Page 67 of A Castaway in Cornwall
“Mr. Lucas, these are the parents of James Kirkpatrick,” Laura explained. “I told you I wrote to them about their son?”
“Ah, the message in the bottle.”
“Yes.” She turned to the older couple. “Mr. Lucas recently survived another shipwreck here on our coast.”
“Miss Callaway saved me,” Alexander added simply.
Laura clasped her hands. “I wish I could have saved your son, but he was already gone when I got to him. If it helps, he was not battered. He was whole and peaceful looking. He had such a pleasant expression. Almost a smile, as though he’d seen his Maker. He was lying on the beach, looking up at the heavens. And I thought, he’s already there.In heaven, I mean. I remember he had a handsome face, and eyes so green. Like yours, ma’am.”
At that, those green eyes again filled with tears.
The man nodded, voice tight. “That’s our Jamie. Always said he was too pretty for a lad.” He shook his head. “That’s not true. He was a beautiful boy, inside and out.”
“We read in the paper about thePricegoing down before we got your letter,” Mrs. Kirkpatrick continued. “We feared theworst. That our boy was gone, never knowing if he thought of us, or loved us, or...”
“Or if he was still angry with me and with God,” her husband finished.
The woman nodded. “You don’t know what receiving your letter meant to us both.”
“I almost didn’t believe it at first,” her husband said. “It looked like our Jamie’s handwriting, but we’d not seen it in so long. How I wanted to believe he forgave me in the end. And reconciled with his Maker. And thanks to you, I know he did.”
Laura smiled gently. “I am so glad.”
Then she asked Wenna for refreshments, and the four sat down and talked longer over tea and a plate of cold meat, bread, and cheeses. Laura decided not to tell them about Tom Parsons taking their son’s watch. No good could come of it, and it would only upset them.
Her uncle and Mrs. Bray joined them for tea, their curiosity piqued. Laura explained why they’d come, and both were suitably sympathetic.
Mr. Kirkpatrick gestured to Laura. “That’s quite a girl you have there. A treasure.”
“I agree wholeheartedly,” Uncle Matthew replied.
Mrs. Bray smiled at them, then turned to give Laura an appraising look, her expression softening. And she said nothing disparaging.
Later, Laura walked the couple to the churchyard and showed them the grave.
Before the Kirkpatricks departed, she fetched the bottle from the icehouse and gave it to them. “It isn’t much, but James did touch this, and had it in his pocket. You might like to keep it. Maybe put a few flowers in it to remember him by.”
Mrs. Kirkpatrick smiled. “A good notion, my dear. I shall.”
Again the couple thanked her and took their leave, planning to stay the night at an inn before beginning their journey north in the morning.
Laura returned to the Fern Haven parlour, weary but satisfied.
“I am proud of you, my dear,” her uncle said.
“Thank you.”
The tears came then, tears of loss and confusion and uncertainty. Uncle Matthew held her as he had not done since she was a young girl. He no doubt believed she cried for the bereaved parents alone. She didn’t explain that her emotions were far more complicated.
With the unexpected visit by the Kirkpatricks, the night had grown late, and Laura and Alexander had not had time to continue their conversation begun in the ice cellar. So the next morning, after she dressed and ate a small breakfast, Laura went to the guest room. Alexander was not there.
Newlyn passed by with a laundry basket. She told Laura he’d gone out early, but she didn’t know where. Had he gone to Padstow’s harbour, hoping to find a shipmaster willing to take him to Jersey or wherever his home was?
Mrs. Bray called up the stairs, vexation evident in her tone. “Laura? Mr. Kent is here and wishes to speak with you. Alone.”
Surprise and foreboding flaring, Laura went downstairs. Treeve stood near the parlour hearth, a folded paper in his hand. When the door closed behind them, she glanced around the room. “Perry is not with you?”
“He has gone to visit some ailing miner’s children. I hope you are not disappointed it is only me?”
