In the days that have followed I have seen a lighter side to my new tenant. He has even smiled. It is a sad smile, but he is ever so handsome when he allows it to grace his face. Some days he goes out fishing and just yesterday he gave me his catch for dinner. He even told me how best to prepare it.

He has agreed to be my handyman in exchange for board in the boatshed, and I have asked Father Anthony to send as many odd jobs for the church his way as is reasonable. I cannot see Charlie holding down a regular job (too many questions would be asked), and the man must eat. If Father Anthony was concerned, he did not show it. He simply made reference to ‘all God’s children’. That man is one of His true blessings.

Peggy’s health is deteriorating, yet he still finds the strength to care for others. There is an apple teacake in the oven as I write this, that I will take over when I visit tomorrow.

Joan Wetherby has had more than enough to say on the matter. She accuses me of keeping a ‘strange vagabond in the boatshed, a madman or criminal with surely dishonourable intentions’.

I finally lost control of my temper when she said this. I told her I preferred the company of a would-be crazed murderer who minded his own business to that of a mean-spirited, unchristian, busy-body who would rather spend her time spreading vicious rumours than caring for her fellow man.

I will ask God’s forgiveness next Sunday for my outburst, many pews away from Mrs Wetherby.

If I am not murdered in my sleep before then, of course.

Perhaps I should not joke about such things.

Her only response, other than a shrill intake of breath, was to say, ‘I can’t believe he ever chose you.’

I have no idea what goes through that woman’s mind sometimes, other than an awful lot of hot air.

Best I finish off this letter before I reveal too many of my evil thoughts.

I miss you, my darling. God willing I have not made a mistake allowing Charlie to stay. A new adventure in my twilight.

Forever yours,

Ivy

PS Mother has taken ill. I shall visit her next week. We remain as distant as ever. Perhaps I should have made more of an effort with her.

Whatever Charlie’s secret was, it was big. Big enough for Ivy to get rid of all the alcohol in her house. Yet he’d found the courage to share it with her. Perhaps, maybe, if Nicole was brave, she could share her past with Danny.

Twenty-nine

The following Friday Nicole ambled down the path towards the small cove just beyond the boatshed, trying to draw on the peace from her surroundings. The evening sky was dark blue, the air warm. The waves lapped the sand softly, rhythmically.