wide as the eyes of an owl hunting in the dark. Sadie is like a statue, and I can’t move or speak. And then the spell breaks, and we’re just an old woman drinking tea, a girl eating bread and honey, and a dog who wants a walk.
“Go on home now,” says Granny Carne. “Best you don’t stay here any longer. Hurry now—the bus’ll be at the corner at ten past nine, and if you miss it, there’s another two hours to wait.”
But I go straight past the bus stop on the road to the churchtown. I keep my head down, hoping that no one will recognize me, but of course people do. First the post van stops for a chat; then Alice Trewhidden is on her way up to catch the bus; then the vicar appears at the church gate just as I’m going by.
“How you doing, Sapphire girl? How’s life down in St. Pirans?”
“Your mum all right, then? She like it down there?”
“Ah, Sapphire, good to see you! How are you all ? How is your mother?”
“She’s all right.”
The vicar’s face is smiling, but his eyes are sharp. He drops his voice, and suddenly it’s a person talking to me, not a vicar. “It’s hard,” he says. “Don’t think I don’t know that.” I don’t know what to say to this. “’S okay,” I mumble. The trouble is that whenever I see the vicar, my mind flashes back to Dad’s memorial service. I don’t want to think of it.
“Give your mother my love,” he adds, and I don’t know what to say to that either. Mum always liked talking to the vicar. Dad never went to church, but Mum did sometimes, just on her own.
By the time I get away, I wish I’d caught that bus. But I can’t go back to St. Pirans without seeing our cottage. It doesn’t matter if the people who are living there now see me. They won’t know who I am. When they came to look round, before they decided to rent it, I went out for a long walk. I didn’t want to meet them.
I reach the top of the track that leads down to our cottage.
Everything is so familiar yet slightly different. Even the baling twine tied round the gate is a different color: green now instead of orange. There is a jeep parked outside the cottage. It’s old and dusty, but it looks in good condition.
Dad always wanted a jeep.
Our front door is open. Radio music spil s out into the garden. To my surprise the vegetable patch has been completely dug over. The gooseberry bushes have been pruned, and the roses. The window frames are freshly painted.
The curtains Mum made are no longer blowing at the kitchen window. Instead someone has put up smart new curtains, the color of cornflowers. I try not to like them, but I do.
Sadie sniffs eagerly around outside the gate. I walk very slowly, trying not to dawdle too obviously, trying to make it look as if I’m just having a relaxed walk with my dog. “Come on, Sadie girl,” I say loudly in case anyone inside is listening. But Sadie is more intelligent than to believe I really want her to move on.
I drink in every detail of the cottage. It’s so nearly the same and yet completely different, because we don’t live there anymore. This must be what it’s like to die and come back to haunt a place you used to love.
“Can I help you?” asks a voice. I jump violently and feel a blush start to spread over my face.
“No, no, I’m fine, my dog’s just—”
A woman swings out of the doorway. She’s on crutches, but she handles them easily, as if she’s been using crutches for a long time. She’s younger than Mum, wearing a long red skirt and a sweater. “Were you looking for something?” she asks. Her eyes are penetrating. Has she guessed who I am?
“No, no, I’m going for a walk with my dog…down to the cove maybe—”
You idiot, Sapphire. Why did you mention the cove?
Maybe they haven’t discovered it yet.
“The cove,” repeats the woman. “Do you know it?”
“Yeah.”
“I’d really like to see it. I can
“Go on home now,” says Granny Carne. “Best you don’t stay here any longer. Hurry now—the bus’ll be at the corner at ten past nine, and if you miss it, there’s another two hours to wait.”
But I go straight past the bus stop on the road to the churchtown. I keep my head down, hoping that no one will recognize me, but of course people do. First the post van stops for a chat; then Alice Trewhidden is on her way up to catch the bus; then the vicar appears at the church gate just as I’m going by.
“How you doing, Sapphire girl? How’s life down in St. Pirans?”
“Your mum all right, then? She like it down there?”
“Ah, Sapphire, good to see you! How are you all ? How is your mother?”
“She’s all right.”
The vicar’s face is smiling, but his eyes are sharp. He drops his voice, and suddenly it’s a person talking to me, not a vicar. “It’s hard,” he says. “Don’t think I don’t know that.” I don’t know what to say to this. “’S okay,” I mumble. The trouble is that whenever I see the vicar, my mind flashes back to Dad’s memorial service. I don’t want to think of it.
“Give your mother my love,” he adds, and I don’t know what to say to that either. Mum always liked talking to the vicar. Dad never went to church, but Mum did sometimes, just on her own.
By the time I get away, I wish I’d caught that bus. But I can’t go back to St. Pirans without seeing our cottage. It doesn’t matter if the people who are living there now see me. They won’t know who I am. When they came to look round, before they decided to rent it, I went out for a long walk. I didn’t want to meet them.
I reach the top of the track that leads down to our cottage.
Everything is so familiar yet slightly different. Even the baling twine tied round the gate is a different color: green now instead of orange. There is a jeep parked outside the cottage. It’s old and dusty, but it looks in good condition.
Dad always wanted a jeep.
Our front door is open. Radio music spil s out into the garden. To my surprise the vegetable patch has been completely dug over. The gooseberry bushes have been pruned, and the roses. The window frames are freshly painted.
The curtains Mum made are no longer blowing at the kitchen window. Instead someone has put up smart new curtains, the color of cornflowers. I try not to like them, but I do.
Sadie sniffs eagerly around outside the gate. I walk very slowly, trying not to dawdle too obviously, trying to make it look as if I’m just having a relaxed walk with my dog. “Come on, Sadie girl,” I say loudly in case anyone inside is listening. But Sadie is more intelligent than to believe I really want her to move on.
I drink in every detail of the cottage. It’s so nearly the same and yet completely different, because we don’t live there anymore. This must be what it’s like to die and come back to haunt a place you used to love.
“Can I help you?” asks a voice. I jump violently and feel a blush start to spread over my face.
“No, no, I’m fine, my dog’s just—”
A woman swings out of the doorway. She’s on crutches, but she handles them easily, as if she’s been using crutches for a long time. She’s younger than Mum, wearing a long red skirt and a sweater. “Were you looking for something?” she asks. Her eyes are penetrating. Has she guessed who I am?
“No, no, I’m going for a walk with my dog…down to the cove maybe—”
You idiot, Sapphire. Why did you mention the cove?
Maybe they haven’t discovered it yet.
“The cove,” repeats the woman. “Do you know it?”
“Yeah.”
“I’d really like to see it. I can
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