Gloria Cook - Reflections

It was a strange thought to occur to her, that since her return here over a year ago to her mothers house, this was the first time she had been alone in it. Why should that matter now? Beth Tresaile was eagerly awaiting the imminent arrival of her closest friend Kitty, so why think of something so unnecessary, and give it a second thought and even a third?

There was, of course, bad history for her here in the cliff-top Owles House, of the bitter quarrels between her parents, her mothers heavy drinking, the neglect and fear she had suffered during her early childhood. At just seven years old, Beth had been abandoned alone, locked outside in the bitterly cold dark winter. She had run terrified along the drive, out into the lane and had somehow found her way nearly all the way down to the fishing cove of Portcowl, where a kindly fishing family had taken her in. Beths maternal grandmother, Marion Frobisher, from Wiltshire, who had raised her, had showered her with love and care, all the while stressing to Beth that her unstable, alcoholic mother Christina had been fully to blame for her past miseries.

Years later, following her grandmothers death, and feeling raw from a tragic miscarriage and broken heart, Beth had been driven to confront and rail against Christina over her selfish, demented motherhood. Kitty Copeland, her friend from her peaceful childhood days, had travelled down with her. At the initial reunion, frosty and guarded on Beths part, eager and apologetic on Christinas, emotional for them both, Beth had seen that Christina was rather frail in health and living a quiet, simple life.

While being put right by various locals about the unfortunate past, Beth had soon discovered that much of Christinas shameful behaviour had been cruelly provoked by her social-climbing, bullying husband Phil Tresaile, and to Beths utter dismay, by Christinas own mother. Taking a Cornish holiday with a young impressionable Christina, Marion Frobisher had made it obvious she despised her daughter. Beguiled by the artful charmer Phil Tresaile, Marion had been observed carrying out an affair with him, before he had seduced and impregnated Christina. Furious and jealous, Marion had allowed the couple to marry, and Owles House had been bought with Christinas money.

Beth had learned that her father Phil Tresaile had constantly and unjustly accused Christina for being responsible for the almost immediate death of Beths sickly twin brother, the son he had so wanted; a secret kept from Beth. Phil Tresaile had deserted his young family but had gone on to partly redeem himself by dying a heros death in the Great War. Beth, encouraged by trusting, kind-hearted Kitty, had rightfully concluded that Marion and Phils abuse of Christina had pushed her towards alcoholism and her final mental breakdown and disappearance, resulting in her incarceration for many months in a mental institution. Beth had accepted everything about her past. She had no lingering issues, only sad reflections, mainly about the baby she had lost and the secret she was keeping from Kitty, a secret that would shatter her. The father of Beths baby had been Kittys adored older, married brother, Stuart. The pregnancy had brought the affair to an end, Stuart fearing that a scandal would ruin him and Beth had not wanted to hurt his young family. Ironically, months later Stuarts wife had left him and their two children for another man, and Stuart had tried, through Kitty, to wheedle his way back into Beths life, asking if he could come down to Cornwall where Beth had decided to settle down. Beth had put off the suggestion firmly. Having found strength in her new life she had had no desire for a weak man and she wasnt going to be second best. She had reflected that it had been selfish and wrong of her to embark on an affair with a married man, and after her years of unjustifiable resentment towards her mother, to be careful in future of the judgements she made.

Beth had sold her property in Wiltshire and bought a cottage locally but she stayed at Owles House most of the time. She continued looking out of the sitting room window into the blustery grey October day for the taxicab ferrying Kitty from St Austell railway station. Beth already had her coat on. She would hurry outside and cry excitedly, Welcome Kitty! Ive been so looking forward to seeing you again and for you to be back once more to share in the magic of this place.

Part of the magic Beth had found here was that the impressive, wisteria-clad mid-Georgian house, the mighty rambling cliffs sheltering the fishing cove below and the waters of the bay were not as her tormented childhood view of them, desolate, lonely and menacing. Instead everything including the tangy salt of the sea and the endless views were enchanting, trustworthy and soothing. Beth had everything she wanted here. She had a fond relationship with Ken Tresaile, landlord of the Sailors Rest, the uncle she had been denied access to because her father had fallen out violently with his family. And there were two special people she had not known existed before: Joe Vyvyan, her younger half-brother by her mothers late second husband; and her older half-sister, abandoned by Phil Tresaile, adopted fishermans daughter Evie Vage.

Presently, Christina was attending a social committee meeting at the vicarage and Joe was at school. The daily help, the cheerful Mrs Reseigh who lived down in the cove, had left an hour ago. Normally, Beth would have gone with Christina, they did almost everything together, but Beth was waiting for Kittys arrival. Alone. And for some odd reason it unsettled her. Almost as if it was a portent that something bad was on its way.

Thats daft, she said aloud. Dont be silly.

Yet a shiver seared up her back and made her glance over her shoulder. Had it suddenly gone cold in the spacious room where a log fire crackled and hearty flames soared towards the chimney, or was she simply imagining it? All was as usual in the room, the furnishings a careful blend of arts and crafts and gentle fines. The tall windows were allowing plenty of daylight in and there were no shadows. Carlton Ware vases were filled with russet, gold and cream chrysanthemums. A French brass carriage clock ticked softly on the mantelpiece.

Something wet pressed into her hand. Oh! Her heart lurched and beat wildly.

She looked down ready to thrust something dreadful off her hand then she was laughing, feeling foolish. Oh, its you Chaplin. It was Joes handsome German shepherd. She wasnt alone in the house after all. She crouched down to hug Chaplins broad neck. Im such a silly to have forgotten you were here, faithful old thing, such a silly to have taken fright of you, and really daft to get the chills over absolutely nothing at all. And if there were any ghosts here youd have growled and seen them off, eh?

Ghosts. Why on earth was she thinking about ghosts? She had lain to rest all the ghosts from her past. Her old loathing and resentment and need for revenge against her mother had been replaced forever with deep love and concern. After his initial distrust, Joe had accepted her. As a boy now approaching his fourteenth birthday he kept a natural distance from her but he showed her the odd touch of affection.

Chaplin suddenly scrabbled away from Beth and barked excitedly with his front paws up on the window ledge, and Beth was nearly upended. Kitty! She had missed her friends approach, something she loved to see. Since returning home to Wiltshire Kitty had set up a small business, but she had twice come down for weekend stays and back in May she had managed a whole week. Now she was allowing herself a long stay that would wonderfully extend through to Christmas and the New Year. Kitty was leaving her personal assistant in charge of Copeland Crafts. It pleased Beth that Kitty, although she never complained about it, would be free for a while from having to shore up Stuart, who was finding life rather hard since Connies desertion.