set of stairs that took them into the old servants’ section. The main house, which was considerable and chilly, was kept in pristine archival condition, ready for the droves of summer tourists who liked to look around the place where it was rumoured Henry VIII had once stayed overnight on a stop in Cornwall. Opening up the estate was the only way that her family could pay the extortionate heating bills and upkeep of such an ancient building.
As they got to the bottom of the stairs, the warmth of the kitchen stretched out to meet her, and she heard her aunt Jean laughing inside.
‘We have a visitor,’ announced Uncle Tom as he opened the door. ‘One of those escapees from the capital.’
‘Ah, there you are, love,’ said her auntie Jean, putting down a wooden spoon from something she was stirring on the stove and sauntering over to envelop Sophie in a huge hug.
The kitchen smelled of something spicy, like chilli con carne, it was warm and appealing. Her uncle wandered over to the stove and picked up the lid of a pan. ‘Oh, this looks interesting,’ he stated.
Quickly releasing Sophie, Jean hurried over to the stove, taking the lid from him and putting it back down. ‘That’s not for you. I’ve got a nice piece of haddock for you.’
‘Why can’t I have this?’ enquired Tom, scrunching up his eyes like a petulant child.
‘You know what the doctor said. Boiled fish and vegetables for you if we want to keep you around, Dad.’
‘Sounds like you hate me,’ he scoffed. ‘What’s the point of living if I have to eat food like that to last?’
He shuffled back out of the room mumbling to himself and Jean shook her head.
Sophie enquired after his health in a low voice. ‘Is he doing okay?’
‘He’s having a good day today – he does better when he takes his pills,’ Jean said, cocking an eyebrow. ‘And we’ll probably have him around for a while yet. Though the forgetfulness comes and goes, and some days are very hard. How was your journey down, love?’
‘Very pleasant. I love coming here,’ said Sophie, stretching, and sitting down in the chair at the broad pine farmhouse table.
‘Let me get the kettle on, make a cup of tea, and you can tell me all about things in London.’
After a long chat with her auntie Jean, where Sophie somehow managed to glide past any mention of Matt, she caught her up to date on her gran’s news and what she had been doing in her new job, then they got to the business at hand.
‘So, tell me again, dear,’ Jean said, covering her hand with her own, ‘about where you found this photograph.’
Sophie told her all about the exhibition and the story that her grandmother had told her.
Jean shook her head. ‘It’s an absolute mystery to me, I’m afraid, no one has ever really talked about her. I didn’t want to say anything to Dad. He goes to bed early now. Maybe over this week you can do some searching? There are boxes of photographs in the attic, and surely there must be something from this mystery sister. There must be a birth certificate or whatever somewhere. Maybe we could piece together this history for you.’
‘I can’t believe Uncle Tom would never have talked about his other sister.’
Jean’s voice dropped to a whisper. ‘All I can tell you is there was a lot of heartbreak for years after the war. I don’t remember anything being told directly to me during my childhood. But I do remember stories of people being hostile towards Dad in the village. Who knows? This may help me put together the pieces of my own family puzzle.’
With her grandmother’s stern warning about Uncle Tom’s health still echoing in her mind Sophie sipped at the tea her auntie Jean had automatically placed in front of her. Sophie pondered Jean’s words, seeing the encouragement in her eyes, and hoped that she wouldn’t somehow uncover something that might make things worse.
13
The next day Sophie woke up and, as she stretched, she could almost feel all the stress of London leaving her body. Cornwall was starting to work its magic on her. She loved the city and all its buzz, but when Sophie needed to find herself, collect all the fragments of herself, Cornwall was invariably the place to do it. Showering, she got dressed and went down for breakfast. The hub of the little kitchen was warm and alive with the buzz