Page 117 of Kate and Clara's Curious Cornish Craft Shop
‘I can imagine,’ Jack says. ‘It’s bad enough having to push myself about.’
This is progress already,’ Susan whispers to me. ‘She doesn’t usually say anything to strangers.’
‘My name is Maggie,’ this older Maggie says, making her choice for the day and she holds her hand out to Jack. ‘What’s yours?’
‘I’m Jack,’ Jack answers, taking her delicate hand in his strong one, ‘and this is Kate.’ He gestures to me, and I move forwards, but Maggie only has eyes for Jack right now.
‘You were a soldier,’ Maggie says, as a statement rather than a question.
‘Yes, I was. How do you know?’
Maggie points to one of Jack’s tattoos peeking out from the sleeve of his T-shirt. ‘Military.’
‘That’s right, it is.’
‘My father was in the army,’ Maggie says. ‘The US Army … maybe you knew him?’
‘No, I don’t think so,’ Jack says diplomatically, ‘I was in the British Army.’
Maggie nods. ‘Yes, that would make sense. Were you at Normandy for the landings? My father was at Omaha. He was injured but he survived.’
Jack shakes his head. ‘No, that was a bit before my time, I’m afraid.’
Maggie seems to accept this and nods again.
‘Mom, these nice people have come to talk to you today about when you used to live in St Felix with your mother and Arty,’ Susan says gently. ‘Do you remember?’
‘Of course I remember, girl. I’m not infirm, even though you all treat me as though I am most of the time.’
Susan turns to me and grimaces. ‘Good luck.’
I sit down in the armchair next to Maggie, so she is now in between Jack and me.
‘Who are you?’ Maggie asks.
‘I’m Kate,’ I say. ‘Pleased to meet you, Maggie.’
I hold out my hand but Maggie turns towards Jack. ‘Is this your sweetheart?’ she asks.
‘Yes,’ Jack says smiling at me, and I feel my cheeks flush. ‘She is.’
‘Pity,’ Maggie says. ‘Not often a handsome soldier comes to visit me.’
I nod encouragingly at Jack. It was obvious he was going to get further with Maggie than I was.
‘Maggie,’ Jack says softly. ‘We wanted to talk to you about Freddie.’
Maggie’s slightly vacant expression suddenly sharpens. ‘Did you know him?’ she asks immediately.
‘Sort of,’ Jack says. ‘We know that you used to paint with him.’
‘I did,’ Maggie says in a forlorn voice. ‘But then he left me, like everyone leaves me eventually – my father, then Freddie, then my mother, then Arty, then Susan. They all go eventually.’
‘Mom, I’m not dead,’ Susan protests.
‘Might as well be living with the Yanks. My father was a Yank,’ she tells Jack again. ‘He was in the army, you know?’
‘Yes, I know,’ Jack says gently. ‘We were wondering though whether you and Arty ever found out what happened to Freddie’s paintings? They went missing, didn’t they?’
