Later, as they pick their way carefully down Memory Lane after a sudden shower of rain has made the cobbles slippery, Lu feels the morning’s tension slipping away at last. There will be time enough later to think more about what Angelina has said. For now, a contentment she hasn’t experienced for years washes over her and she shivers with pleasure. They pass what must have once been a long row of fishermen’s cottages and eventually reach the shingle.
‘We’ll have to carry the buggy over this bit,’ says Isaac, picking up the front bar as Polly takes the strain at the back. Peter is already taking his shoes off. Lucia hangs back to have a word with him as the others stride off down the beach.
‘I think we should call it a day here,’ she tells Peter, lowering her voice so Tommy can’t catch what she’s saying. Pengelly is wonderful, but putting distance between herself and Angelina seems like a good plan at the moment. She can’t help feeling that the old lady will try to get her hands on the compass again at the first opportunity.
‘Oh, that’s a shame. I was just getting into the swing of this paddling lark,’ Peter says, wriggling his toes in the firm sand. ‘Haven’t had this much fun since … well, since I lost my wife.’
Peter shields his eyes against the glare from the sunlit sea and watches the rest of the party head for the shoreline. ‘They’re not going to want to leave here yet,’ he says. ‘But let’s not forget who’s the boss around here.’ He grins down at her and Lucia’s heart swells with affection. ‘Where next then?’ he asks.
‘Can we talk about that all together when we’re back at the pub? There’s something I need to do first,’ Lucia says.
‘Absolutely. I’ve got a marvellous idea of my own but I’m not sure if it’s practical or if anyone else would go for it. We’ll discuss the matter in the fullness of time, my dear. Now I need to dip these aged toes in the water.’
Lucia looks down at the toes in question. Peter’s feet look as if they’ve never before seen the light of day. The skin is brilliantly white and his ankles are thin and bony. She has a sudden pang of alarm at the thought that she hardly knows the man and yet she’s dragged him away from the only home he’s ever known and now she has not the slightest idea where they’ll go next. When her eyes return to his face though, she’s reassured. His smile is radiant and she can see he’s itching to join the others.
‘Off you go,’ Lu says. ‘I’m just going to sit here for a little while and get my breath back. It’s been a crazy few days.’
Peter needs no further bidding and heads off down the beach as Lucia sinks down onto the firm sand and opens her bag. Cross-legged, she fetches out the compass and takes a moment to admire the sheer beauty of its colours in the bright morning sunshine. Then she follows the now familiar ritual of holding it in the palm of her hands.
A deep sense of peace flows through Lu’s body as, still for the first time today, she lets her mind rest. The sound of the gulls and Isaac’s joyous laugh, something she’s not heard for what seems like an age, permeate her soul, and the fresh sea breeze seems to be clearing out all unwelcome thoughts about the state of her marriage. The tang of salt in the air, the growing warmth of the sun and the barking of a distant dog as it leaps in and out of the waves are enough for a few moments, but then she remembers what she’s meant to be doing before the others return.
The compass and the barometer have been busy while Lu’s been daydreaming. The needles have already settled, with the compass indicating due south and the barometer clearly pointing to the word variable. Lu is relieved that they’ve left cloudy behind. That must have referred to Tommy’s feeling, she thinks. Maybe the compass is still able to feel echoes of its previous owners emotions? That would make sense. She gives herself a little shake. Actually, none of this makes sense, it’s suspending disbelief that’s the thing here.
Taking a moment to reassess her own views about the compass, Lu realises that every time she reaches for it, she’s becoming increasingly certain that it does have … powers. Even admitting this to herself makes her feel a bit silly but she can’t deny the truth of it as it forms in her mind.
So, variable and south. What can it mean? Lu tries to conjure up an image of the layout of Cornwall. Feeling as if she’s cheating, she pulls out her phone and Googles the question. It’s quickly apparent that travelling due south from here they would end up somewhere in the Bay of Biscay. Lucia shivers. It’s time she stopped pretending. The compass is telling her to go to France and that is something she never thought she’d be brave enough to do. It’s almost as if Eddie is calling her, but can she do it? And will the others even want to go so far afield?
Back at base, the group sit around the largest table in the lounge and make short work of the most enormous platter of sandwiches they’ve ever seen.
‘I’d like to stay here forever,’ mumbles Polly through a mouthful of panini. ‘This is bliss.’
‘Ah. And that’s what I wanted to talk to you all about.’ Lucia meets Peter’s steady gaze and feels heartened. ‘I think it’s time we moved again.’
A chorus of groans come from Polly, Isaac and Tommy but Lucia ploughs on.
‘These last two places have been my choice but we can go anywhere you like next. Has anybody got any ideas?’
Silence falls. After a decent interval to give the others chance to speak, Peter clears his throat. ‘I’d like to make a suggestion, if I may,’ he says. ‘Why not, as we’re so close to the channel, head on down into France?’
Lucia stares at him. Is he doing this for her, in some twisted way, to force her into facing her past? But Sir Peter’s eyes are wet as he carries on. ‘Frances and I spent many happy weeks travelling through northern France in our old Bluebird. It was a bit too sporty for that sort of job but having the top down and the wind in our hair … and the rain sometimes, if I’m honest … was sheer magic. I would dearly love to do it again once more, before … well …’ his voice tails off and Tommy reaches over to pat his friend’s hand.
‘I’m game,’ he says. ‘I’ve got my passport. Never go anywhere without it.’
‘Oh, so have I,’ Peter agrees. ‘Old habits die hard. “Be prepared”, Frances always used to say. Sometimes even when we thought we were just visiting friends on the Sussex coast we’d wind up in Newhaven and on the ferry before you could say au revoir. But what about the rest of you?’
Isaac frowns. ‘I don’t even know where my passport is,’ he says, rather too loudly. ‘I only got one because there was an exchange trip planned at Uni but, I never needed it in the end.’
‘It’s here, I put mine and yours in just in case.’ Lucia waits for Isaac to get even crosser at the prospect of being forced to step even further out of his comfort zone but Polly has moved closer to him and it seems as if her presence is enough to reassure him, for the time being at least.
‘You’ll be fine, love,’ Lu says. ‘If I can do it, you can too. It depends what everyone else wants to do though. Polly, I know you’ve got your passport because I reminded you. Oh, but what about Reg! I hadn’t thought of that. Of course he’ll need a passport too. He’ll have to go on yours. Never mind, it’ll just mean we’ll have to wait while you add him. We can probably do it at a post office.’
Polly’s looking at her feet. ‘No, we can’t do that but it’s not a problem. He’s got a separate one. There were … reasons. And mine’s still got five years to run.’
‘Excellent. So what’s holding us back? Is it a good plan?’
‘Where would we go from? I don’t know anything about getting across there.’ Isaac says. Lucia thinks he sounds less resistant now and Polly’s eyes are sparkling.
‘I haven’t really been anywhere abroad apart from a little bit of Spain,’ she says. ‘I’d love to see France.’
‘Well, if Lucia and Isaac are happy to make northern France our next port of call, we can make some enquiries about ferries. We’re not too far from Poole, are we? How do you all feel about a bit of a cruise to Cherbourg?’