Page 113 of A Castaway in Cornwall
A crewman helped Laura and Alex into the boat, then rowed them ashore. When they reached the quay, Alex clambered up first, then reached down a hand to help Laura ascend. She felt strangely weak and in need of his strength.
Standing on solid stone at last, Laura should have felt steadier, but instead the earth continued to sway beneath her.
Alex placed a supporting hand under her elbow. “Are you all right? May take a few minutes to find your land legs again.”
She nodded, drawing in long draughts of cool, salty air, wishing away the dizziness, the mounting nausea. What was happening to her? For her vision narrowed, tunneling into blackness. She felt her legs give way and knew no more.
She had been entangled in the fog, not knowing where she was, all her bearings lost.
—S. BARING-GOULD,INTHEROAROFTHESEA
Chapter 20
Laura became aware of someone mopping her brow. Her vision returned in uneasy intervals, blurry at first, as though she peered through a thin layer of wax.
She glimpsed a wrinkled hand and heard a kind older voice.Miss Chegwin?Laura wondered.
Had she said the name aloud? For the voice gently hushed and soothed her. The woman spoke English but her accent was different. Not Cornish. French? Laura didn’t think so.
“Shh, there now. Drink this.” Warm, soothing liquid touched her lips, her throat, her stomach, and once more Laura slept.
She woke again with a spoon to her lips. “Come, Sara, you must eat something.”
Sara?That was her mother’s name. Why was this woman calling her Sara?
“Laura,” she murmured, or tried to.
“Right. Laura. Sorry.”
An unfamiliar male voice said something she could not make out.
The woman responded, “Is such a large dose necessary? Yes, yes, I know you’re the doctor, but...”
Later, Laura heard a voice she did recognize. Alexander, suggesting something.
“You’re right,” the elderly woman replied. “Fresh air will do her good.” Laura was conscious of being lifted and carried.
“Put me down,” she mumbled, embarrassed at her weakness.
She was settled gently onto a chaise longue. Warm sun shone on her skin and fresh sea air filled her lungs, yet her stupor remained. Her eyelids felt unnaturally heavy, as if weighted.What is wrong with me?
“Go about your business, sir,” the woman said. “I shall sit with her.”
Laura felt a mixture of relief, confusion, and dismay that Alexander was still with her. Was there not somewhere he needed to be, something important he needed to do? What was it? Her brain refused to conjure the answer.
Laura felt a squeeze to her hand, smelled a whiff of spicy shaving soap, and then he was gone.
She wasn’t sure of the name of her nurse but was vaguely aware she was sitting in someone’s small front garden, its stone walls protecting her from the wind. The sound of gulls told her the sea was nearby.
Time passed. Laura slept, stirred, slept some more, dreams and reality muddled together.
From beside her, the nurse said, “A cup of tea, I think. You rest here, and I shall return presently.” She stood and laid yet another blanket over her.
Laura heard soft padding footsteps and a door quietly opening and closing. She was left in solitary peace.
Then a different sound penetrated her mind. Not the door, but a creaking hinge. The garden gate?
Another set of footsteps approached, this time on paving stones.
