Previously…

‘Hi, Dawn.’

‘Hello, sis, how are you?’

‘Well the day started a bit nasty but things are perking up.’

‘Anything you want to talk about?’

‘Not over the ’phone.’

‘Okay, honey; look, the reason I’m ringing is that I want to drag hubby and the kids over to Penmarris at the weekend. I need to work on them and use my feminine wiles to persuade them all that a move to the village would be a beneficial. Would you like to meet up?’

‘That would be great. Do you want to come here and then we can decide what to do.’

‘Sounds perfect. Eleven do you?’

‘That will be great. I can’t wait to see you all.’

‘Okay, honey, see you Saturday.’

‘’Bye.’

I put the ’phone down and smiled. It would be great to see Adrian, Hayley and Timothy, although I did wonder what they would think of me; let’s face it, I don’t look much like Tom anymore, do I?

And now the story continues…

I was wakened on Wednesday morning by the sounds of rain lashing against my bedroom window and the wind howling in the chimney. Gradually, as I became conscious, I felt a sense of peace. Yesterday had been quite eventful for me, what with the latest revelations about Olivia, Lady Fairbairn’s visit with her extraordinary offer of five thousand pounds to paint Fifi, her pampered pooch, and Dawn ringing to say she was coming over at the weekend with her family.

It was all a bit much considering that I had come to this idyllic haven to get away from it all and possibly drop out of sight. Now I had more friends than ever before and a sister who had come back to me; and then there was Abby–

I stared at the sketch I had made of her and smiled. I reckon I had been smitten by her as soon as I saw her for the first time. I still sense that she has feelings for me too. I don’t know whether it would ever work out and perhaps I am presuming a lot but I was resolved, that by the end of the day, I would visit her and screw up my courage to tell her of my feelings. Better that she told me now that she didn’t have reciprocal feelings for me than later, when my heart would be broken–again.

I stretched, rubbed my eyes and climbed out of bed. Crossing to the window, and drawing the curtains , I gasped at the scene. Layed out before me, was the village with a storm raging over and around it. I knew that when it was windy buthe headlands of the cove sheltered the village from the worst of any storm. Out to sea, the waves looked enormous and the rain was driving almost horizontally past my window.

On the West Beach, the rollers were crashing up the strand and over the rocks, the water foaming white as it smashed against them and sending plumes of spume high in the air, only to be whipped away by the gale–no, storm–force wind.

I stood watching for some time, marvelling at the terrible force of nature and its majestic but violent beauty. Even in the harbour down below me, the boats were plunging up and down violently, straining against their moorings as the wind caught them. No one was on the quay, as far as I could see. This was a day for all right-minded people to stay indoors. Just then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight something orange, battling out to sea between the headlands. It disappeared from view and then appeared again, climbing the steep swell. Then I recognised her–The Penmarris Lifeboat.

Looking carefully–I wished I had a good pair of binoculars–I gasped as I realised that the lifeboat must have been called out. I wondered who was in peril and whether anyone had been hurt. I vaguely remembered something Jocasta told me and went cold. Grabbing my ’phone I rang her number.

‘Hello, Jo?’

‘Oh, hello, Sam.’ She sounded worried.

‘Has David gone out on the lifeboat?’

‘Yes, the maroon went up about an hour ago. Didn’t you hear it?’

‘No. I was asleep. What’s happened?’

‘As far as we know, Lebanese freighter’s in trouble on a sand bank about ten miles off the coast, they have gone to give assistance with other lifeboats in the area.’

‘How are you?’

‘Worried, natch. This is the second time this month they’ve been called out like this. Normally, it’s just a small boat in difficulties or perhaps someone trapped on the rocks when the tide comes in, but there’s always a chance of bad things happening on a call out like this. Of course the girls are worried too, so I have to be strong for them as well as myself.’

‘I’ll come up.’

‘You won’t. It’s really foul out there and anyway, I don’t think your banana cagoule will take the strain.’

I laughed at her feeble joke about my trusty wet weather gear.

‘Well, you know where I am. Please ring me when you have any news.’

‘I will; Look I’ve got to go now, I’ll catch up with you later.’

‘You know where I am.’

‘Sure. Thanks, Sam.’

I pressed the red button, put the ’phone down and went to the window again. The weather was showing no signs of improving–in fact, if anything, it was getting worse.

I put on my satin dressing gown and went down to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, I took out the milk which looked a bit gungy; gingerly, I smelt it, it was more than a bit niffy. Knowing that Mrs. Pearson had made sure that the milkman would deliver here, I went to the front door, more out of hope than expectation. Surely no milkman would venture out in this weather.

Opening the front door was an experience in itself as it nearly came back and hit me full in the face with the force of the wind and rain. I had the fleeting impression of something wet and furry shoot past me and there on the doorstep, in the corner out of the wind, were two pints of milk. Bottles, mind you–none of your cardboard cartons or plastic rubbish. Quickly, I picked them up and slammed the door against the howling wind.

I returned to the kitchen, grasping the slippery bottles, and trying hard not to drop them. I put one straight into the fridge and the other on the kitchen table.

Tammy was in her usual spot in front of the range and after a quick meow of greeting, she went back to her important business of washing herself.

‘Make yourself at home.’ I said on my way to the store cupboard to get some cornflakes. After filling the kettle and putting it on the range to boil. I took off my dressing gown–it had got more than a little damp during my brief encounter with the elements–and hung it over the back of the wooden kitchen chair.

Sitting down, just in my nightie, I was glad that although it was very rough outside, at least the temperature inside was still quite warm. I waited for the kettle to boil, then made a pot of tea. I removed the foil cap from the bottle of milk and poured some on my cornflakes. The bottle bore the name ‘Ernie, the fastest milkman in the West’ emblazoned on the glass and I presumed that he probably was–and the most resilient, bearing in mind the appalling weather outside.

I felt something wet against my bare legs, a furry sort of wet, so I knew it must be Tammy; either that or a humungous great rat–much too scary to think about. Looking down, I saw her staring up at me expectantly.

‘All right, darling, hang on a mo and Auntie Sam will give you some milky.’

I stood up, went to the dresser grabbed a saucer, poured some milk in it, and put it down by the range. Tammy dashed over and lapped up the milk so quickly it was almost as if she was some sort of feline Hoover.

I smiled to myself as I continued my breakfast, feeling safe inside my cosy cottage. Then I remembered; David was out there with the rest of the lifeboat crew, risking their lives for poor souls in peril on the sea. I wanted to do something to help, but knew there was nothing I could do.

I could not but admire the bravery of people who are willing to put their own lives at risk time and time again to plough through mountainous seas to rescue those in distress. Much like fireman who go into burning buildings and others of that ilk. I wished that I could be that brave, but it took someone very special to be able to do such selfless things.

After finishing my breakfast, I poured myself another mug of tea and went back upstairs. Tammy was snoozing in front of the range and purring at the same time, I suppose you could call it multitasking.

I took my tea into the studio and pulled back the curtains. The violence of the storm hadn’t abated and I hoped desperately that David and the others were safe. I longed to go and give Jo a comforting hug, but knew that she needed to be with her girls at a time like this and I didn’t want to intrude. In front of one of the large windows, I had put a table with one of my sketch books. Without really thinking, I started drawing the scene outside. I needed to do something to occupy my mind.

I lost track of time as I drew, being totally absorbed in drawing the awesome scene outside. I included the Penmarris lifeboat battling her way out and decided that after I transferred it to canvas, I would either present it to the local RNLI* or auction it and give the proceeds to them. Let’s hope that my efforts would be worth enough to make a difference. Perhaps Lady F would buy it; let’s face it, if she would pay five thousand pounds for a portrait of her dog, what would she give for something like that?

Dimly, I heard something in the background. I stopped what I was doing and then realised that it was my ’phone. Going into the bedroom I picked it up and pressed the green button.

‘Hello?’

‘Hi, Smantha, it’s Abby.’

My heart flipped and I sat on the bed.

‘Erm–hi, Abby.’

‘Rotten weather isn’t it?’

‘Isn’t it just. David’s gone out with the lifeboat.’

‘I heard the maroon. A lot of villagers have loved ones in the crew.’

‘Let’s hope everything will be all right.’

‘Amen to that. Look, Sam, have you seen Tammy?’

‘You mean that little ball of damp fur lying asleep in front of my range?’

‘The little minx! Normally, I wouldn’t worry, but with this ghastly weather, you never know.’

We both laughed and there was a pause in the conversation.

‘How are my two kittens?’ I asked eventually.

‘They’re fine. Fast asleep with mum.’

‘That’s good.’

‘Are you coming up to see them, some time?’

‘Yes, if the weather improves, I’d like to come later today.’

‘Oh good, it will be lovely to see you again–sorry.’

‘Why?’

‘Why what?’

‘Why are you sorry?’

‘It’s just–’

‘Mmm?’

‘It’s just, I—I’d like to see you; that’s all.’

There was another pause.

‘I’d like to see you too, Abby. I don’t know why, but–look; maybe we can talk later, face to face?’

‘That’d be great; I think we need to talk. Come up any time–please–’

‘All right, I agree that we could do with good a heart-to-heart, look I have to go now, ’bye Abby–oh, and I’ll keep Tammy in until the weather improves.’

‘You are a nice woman.’

‘Maybe, see you soon. ’Bye.’

I put the ’phone down and stared into space for a minute, then with a sigh, I went back into the studio and stared out of the window.

It seemed that the weather was improving slightly, the clouds looked lighter, the wind had dropped to a small extent and I was sure that the sea didn’t look quite so angry. Just then far out to sea there was a ray of bright sunlight shining through the clouds on to the turbulent sea. The ray grew wider as more of the clouds dispersed. Over to the east were even more broken clouds and things brightened up considerably as the sun broke through more strongly.

Then a rainbow appeared over the water as the rain abated and the day continued to brighten. The scene was breathtaking in its beauty and I knew that if I lived to be a hundred, I would always have something to paint here. The only dark thing at the moment was the fact that there were people out there on the sea experiencing a life and death situation, I prayed that everybody would be safe.

I was amazed at how quickly the weather could change here. I hoped and prayed that David and the crew were safe and also the people on the ship too.

Just then the ’phone burbled at me.

‘Hi, Sam, It’s Jo, they’re safe and on the way back. Other lifeboats got there before them and the freighter had run aground on the sandbank further west. No lives were lost.

‘Thank God.’

‘Yes, I’m so relieved. Look, as the weather’s improved, I’m going down to the lifeboat station to meet the lifeboat when she comes in. The girls are coming too, do you want to come?’

‘Yes, I’ll meet you at the end of my lane; when?’

‘Give me ten minutes, ’bye.’

I dressed quickly in jeans and top, added a quick flick of makeup, brushed my hair and I was ready. As I opened the door, Tammy, shot out without a goodbye or a thank you, and scampered of down the lane to Abby’s place. I wondered what Abby would think when I told her my story.

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* RNLI: The Royal national Lifeboat Institution–a charity that runs the Lifeboat Service in the UK.