The Sweethearts Collection. Pam JenoffЧитать онлайн книгу.
before making their way onto the beach, brightly coloured cones clutched in their hands.
Before Colenso knew it, the evening before Litha – or the summer solstice, as Mara insisted on calling it – had arrived.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’ Jago asked as Colenso scooped up her basket and made her way out of the stall.
‘I told you, Mara and I are going over to the Mount for the summer solstice.’
‘But there are still some people milling around and they might want to buy sweets,’ he frowned.
‘Then you’ll have to serve them yourself, Jago. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon as usual,’ she said, trying not to laugh at his indignant look. Having been rushed off her feet all afternoon, he wasn’t going to make her feel guilty for leaving a couple of hours earlier than usual. ‘I’ll dock it from your wages.’
‘What wages?’ she asked.
Excitement bubbled up inside her as she hurried over to Mara’s tent. She was pleased to see the woman was in fine spirits as they made their way down to the beach. For the past week or so she’d been withdrawn and preoccupied, spending her mornings looking out over the island or chatting earnestly with Sarah before taking herself off to her little tent. After supper she went straight to bed. Mara hadn’t once teased Colenso about her choice of sea plants for their meal, and she missed their bantering.
‘We’ll walk over the causeway to St Michael’s Mount and climb up the pilgrim’s path to the castle. It’s the best place to watch the sun rise,’ Mara told Colenso as, shedding their boots, they stepped onto the cool sand. With the water lapping over their feet, they made their way towards the island.
Despite her earlier excitement, when she saw the outline of The Lizard in the distance, her spirits plummeted. She’d visited the post office earlier that morning and there was still no letter from Kitto. Despite Mara’s assurance, she couldn’t help wondering if he’d succumbed to the schoolmistress’s charms after all. But she couldn’t stay gloomy, for they’d reached their destination.
‘Well, here we are,’ Mara said, sinking down onto a rock and slipping into her boots. ‘I think we’ll take a little rest, it’s a steep climb to the top,’ she added as Colenso bent and tied her laces.
‘I’ve brought us some of Jago’s confections,’ she grinned, extracting a cone of bullseyes from the basket and holding it out to the woman. They sat sucking the striped, lemon-flavoured sweets while watching the activity going on in the harbour. Colenso was sure she’d never seen so many boats.
‘Could bloomin’ break your teeth on these things,’ Mara moaned, taking the sweet from her mouth and throwing it into the water. ‘Come on, let’s get moving.’
‘Goodness, they’ve got cows here,’ Colenso exclaimed, staring at the small black animals in amazement.
‘How else will they get milk and butter?’ Mara snorted as they joined the throng of people wending their way up the steep path. The views from the top were breathtaking, a carpet of green meeting the azure of the sea. Although Mara looked tired, she was adamant they secure their spot on the eastern side ready to see the sun rise.
The sky was just darkening to grey by the time they settled on a rocky crest along with all the others who had come to keep vigil together for the rising sun. Colenso pulled a blanket from the basket and gently covered the woman.
‘If things had been different, I’d have liked a daughter just like you,’ Mara murmured. Colenso turned to the woman in surprise, but she’d already closed her eyes and was snoring gently.
Colenso sat in the gathering shadows, watching pale lights flickering on the mainland, listening to the lowing of the cattle and the gentle lapping of the waves, and thinking of all that had happened over the past months. She could hardly believe that only a short time ago she’d had her life all mapped out and was planning her handfasting ceremony. She wondered what Kitto was doing on this special night, and then, when the image of him with the fair-haired Mary Anne surfaced, wished she hadn’t. Her eyelids grew heavy and she must have slept, for the next thing she knew Mara was prodding her side.
‘Look,’ she whispered. There was a collective gasp around them as a trace of light peeked above the hills. They watched in silence as it grew bigger, rays of red and gold spreading wider across the sky. ‘Sol Invictus,’ Mara whispered, rising to her feet. ‘Let us draw strength and energy from the triumphant sun and concentrate on our outgoing energies.’ Colenso stared at Mara in surprise, for it could have been Mammwynn speaking and, not for the first time, she thought what friends they might have been had they met. ‘Attune to the energies of the waters, the origin of life,’ Mara murmured, stretching her arms out wide to the sea and closing her eyes.
‘Now you must discover the magic of the rock,’ Mara said, her eyes shining as she turned to Colenso. ‘Come on,’ she said, leading the way to an old church. ‘This is where the highest point of the bedrock is seen. It’s a mystical place but to fully benefit you need to touch that stone. Go on,’ she urged. ‘Now close your eyes and make a romantic wish.’
‘Really,’ Colenso protested.
‘Go on. It has to be romantic, mind.’ Seeing the woman wouldn’t be satisfied until she did, Colenso closed her eyes and wished.
‘You don’t really believe in that myth, do you?’ she asked as they made their way carefully down the path.
‘If a romantic wish is made before marriage, it will be granted,’ Mara insisted.
✳
Colenso remembered the woman’s words each time she visited the post office. But by the end of the summer, when the had sun lost its heat and the leaves on the trees had turned from green to gold, she still hadn’t heard from Kitto and gave it up for the myth she’d suspected. As for the reason Kitto hadn’t responded, well, it didn’t take a genius to work that out.
‘The tourists have gone home and it’s time we moved on,’ Mara said, returning from her discussion with the kumpania.
‘Are you sure?’ Colenso asked, noting the woman’s pallor. Not travelling over the summer had done her good but she was still frailer than she’d been when Colenso had first known her. ‘Wouldn’t you rather stay here?’ The woman shook her head.
‘No, we always visit the fair at St Just for Samhain.’ Samhain! Colenso’s heart flipped, but Mara was continuing. ‘The festival’s important, marking the end of the year and …’ her voice faltered, her eyes taking on that faraway look that had become more prevalent of late.
‘Mammwynn said it was also the beginning,’ she ventured.
‘And she was right,’ Mara sighed. Then her voice became brisk again. ‘We’ll be meeting up with Big Al and everyone. Jago’s gone for more stock and says he’ll join us there. Did he pay you before he left?’
‘No, he didn’t,’ Colenso frowned. He hadn’t paid her since Truro and she was down to her last few coppers. Hoping to tempt Mara’s appetite, she’d been buying potatoes and fish, although it was indicative of the woman’s increasing frailty that she hadn’t noticed. Now the weather was getting colder and she needed to buy a shawl. She’d tackle him as soon as she met up with him in St Just.
As they made their way out of Marazion, Colenso looked out over the sea. What a lovely summer it had been. She’d met so many people, explored the shore, visited the Mount. All too soon, they were turning away from the place she’d come to love and were making their way slowly up the hill. It wasn’t long before Mara began to tire and Colenso insisted she rest in the van. Unusually the woman didn’t protest, and even when they turned along a lane that was flat and ran parallel to the coast, she remained inside.
As they passed through the village of Heamoor and onto the road to St Just, Colenso stared around at the changing countryside. Here the land was mainly cultivated, with a scattering of tumbledown houses which, despite their sad state, appeared to be lived