The House was Empty

The House was Empty

The house was empty. Where could she have gone? Where could she have disappeared to?

“Lorna, ring the bell again. Maybe she is out in the back?”

“OK Jeff, You go round and have a look and I’ll go inside and see if there are any signs of life, or otherwise!”

Lorna pulled the door open and tiptoed in. The hall led into the kitchen. On the table she saw two cups and saucers and a small plate of biscuits, lightly covered with a film of dust. There was a small bowl filled with sugar cubes, on the neatly set tray.

Jeff made his way through the back door.

“ Well Lorna, no sign of your mum anywhere. What do you think has happened ? Mary , your mother has simply gone away and not left any messages.”

How long do you think she has been gone, Jeff? It looks like she never intended to go, with the table set for tea. She must have left in a hurry.”

“Don’t know, hard to tell really , what reason she could have had for simply walking out and not letting us know?”

Lorna and Jeff had been sent to Lands End because the rest of the family had not heard from Mary for the past four weeks. That was a long time for a silence, from this quarter.

“I’ll give Tom a ring from here and ask what we ought to do.

“Tom? Lorna here, Jeff and I are in Mary’s house and there is no explanation for her absence. What?

OK we’ll check in with the local Post Office and see if she left any instructions.”

“Good Morning. I am Lorna Cavendish . We are looking for my mother Mary Cavendish, who seems to have gone away, without telling anyone where she was going.”

“Good Morning, Lorna. I was wondering myself, what Mary was up to. She pops in here almost every day to collect post and have a chat. She has not been in for almost a month. I’m afraid I can’t help you. I am just as puzzled as you.”

“Jeff, I think we must go back to the house and tidy up a bit and then go home to London. We can arrange a family meeting to see how best to deal with the situation.”

Mary Cavendish was an attractive woman of 59 years old. She had kept fairly active, looking after her garden and walking on the pathways to Sennen Cove or to the Song of the Sea cave at Nanjizal. The latter, far from any car park , can only be reached on foot. This was Mary’s favourite walk. Her art materials fitted neatly into a back pack. She could spend the day listening to the bird calls and watching the swirling waters of the incoming tide.

That day, someone gave a forceful ring on the doorbell. Mary confronted a solitary visitor on her doorstep. The man wore a SEASALT Porthperran coat with a hood and stood tall. He looked in his late fifties with grey at the temples. His eyes, the colour of his coat looked searchingly at her.

“I am looking for Mary Cavendish. I believe she lives here?”

“You are looking at her, do I know you?”

“ We did know each other a long time ago. I was here in the village and saw one of your paintings in the art shop. It was signed, Mary Roberts. You used to go by the name Mary Roberts?”

“Yes that’s right.”

“The art dealer told me your present name.

“ Do you think I might come in? The wind is quite cold on the steps out here. We used to be neighbours as children. You were my first crush.”

Mary felt as if a shaft of light had illuminated the air. The voice was the same as it had always been, a slight resonance and a faint trace of a Scottish accent. But it was the pitch that was so familiar and she felt a long lost echo of emotion taking hold of her senses.

“And you, mine. Do come in out of the cold, Andrew. It is Andrew?”

“I’ve booked into the Lands End Hotel down the road for a few days holiday. Do you think we can catch up on our life stories so far? I am simply bowled over, finding you after all this time.”

Mary helped him out of his coat. She felt a small shiver of pleasure at the touch of his hand on her arm.

“Would you like some tea?”

“It is such an amazing occurrence, to have found you, Mary. If I had known where you were, I would have been here sooner. What happy coincidence brought me to Land’s End from Edinburgh? It is inexplicable. Yes I would like tea, thank you.”

Mary had a feeling of being trapped in this unexpected situation. She had been alone for more than two decades and had never imagined being sought after in this manner, at her age! She side stepped, filling up the kettle and putting out two cups and saucers with some of the biscuits she had baked at the weekend.

“What happened to you after our last meeting?”

Mary remembered it well and felt a hot flush rising up into her cheeks. They were at a birthday party and Andrew had drawn her out into the garden and along a path pulling her her to him and kissing her gently on the mouth. She remembered the smell of his Old Spice Cologne, the feel of his strong hands against the small of her back. Above all, she remembered his voice saying,

“I’ve loved you, Mary, since you threw a book at me in the playground at school. What a temper you had then. I found it very seductive. Shall we do something about it?”

Instead, much to her subsequent distress, they had drifted apart.

And now here he was in front of her, the same Andrew, the same cool grey eyes looking at her and saying the same words, twenty years later.

“ I’ve loved you, Mary , since you threw that book at me, a maths book as I recall. What fire you had. What about it? Shall we go somewhere and rekindle the feelings we once had?”

Mary tried to pull herself together but it didn’t work. She’d have to throw that idea out of the window! She was all to pieces, putty in his hands.

“ We could leave today and go to the Scilly Isles, to Tresco, a stone’s throw from Land’s End.”

“Well, I have to think it over ,” said Mary doubtfully.

“I’ll give you a few minutes and then go and check out at the hotel and book tickets on the Scilly Skybus to St Mary’s. Nothing like the present. I’m not going to let you get away this time.”

“I have to leave a note for the children in case they come looking for me.”

She wrote a quick note and placed it under the milk bottle in plain view.

“That should allay any fears they may have, about my sudden departure.”

“Pack a case for at least four weeks holiday and I’ll fetch you just after 4pm.”

The blue water of St Mary’s harbour threw up flashes of fire in the late afternoon sun. They had arrived after a 30 minute flight and were now eating a crab salad at the Quay restaurant waiting for the Scillonian III passenger ferry to Tresco.

At home, the note Mary had placed under the milk bottle, had blown away in the wind.

“I’ve booked us into a holiday cottage next to the beach, Mary. We can go walking together. I want to have you to myself for a while.”

“Only one room?” asked Mary after they had dragged their suitcases up the front stairs.”

“Of course silly, we are not green teenagers . What did you expect? ”

“Is this a whirlwind romance?” Mary’s knees seemed to have turned to water. She was incapable of coherent thought.

Seeing we have waited more than twenty years to get to where we are now, I would hardly call it that,” said Andrew smiling.

“Come here Mary.”

As she looked into his eyes, gazing intently into hers, he started to unbutton her shirt.

After three weeks of walking and cycling, they took a ferry back to St Mary’s , arranging with the Anglican priest to meet them at 2PM.

They had a one week honeymoon in Hugh Town before going back to Land’s End.

At the house, Mary found a pile of letters, glancing at the few at the top she noticed they were all frantically asking where she had disappeared to.

 After some phone calls, they all came: Lorna and Jeff, Tom and his wife Heather and the two young nieces.

“Where have you been?”  They asked. Andrew came down the stairs into the sitting room and introducing himself Andrew Blantyre, he turned to Mary and said and this is Mrs Blantyre.

“What do you think you are doing?” they asked in one voice. “You aren’t teenagers you know.” Are you mad?”

“ Yes, we know , and we are not mad. We have been behaving like adults and I can hardly wait to make your acquaintance. I am now a part of your family.

“Yes,” said Mary “and although you all thought I was lost, I am now found.”