Page 33 of The Sisters of Sea View
Beloved Wife and Mother
Forever in Our Hearts
Mr. Henshall’s wife. Who, according to the dates, had died about three years before.
Their daughter, Effie, must have been ten or eleven years old at the time.
Had Katrin Henshall come to Sidmouth hoping for a cure, and instead, like so many others, died there?
She thought back to her innocent comment,“If you have come here for our healthful sea air.”And his snort of derision.
No wonder.
Georgie called to her from the church porch, “Sarah, are you coming?”
Sarah hurried to join her, even as she doubted she’d be able to focus on the service.
If nothing else, she would pray for the husband and child left behind.
After finishing the pressing correspondence, Emily walked back to the beach with the room list, figuring the Cordeys would be relaxing at their cottage after a day’s work.
Sure enough, Mr. Cordey sat outside with his pipe, Tom withhis carving, and Punch with a mug of ale. She imagined Bibi would be inside, doing the washing up. Tom rose when he saw her, while the other men stayed as they were.
Mr. Cordey pulled the pipe from his mouth. “Evenin’, maid’n.”
“Good evening. How was your day?”
“Fair to middlin’. Yourn?”
“Good. A new guest arrived today. As nice as can be, though he can’t see. I can’t imagine being blind—can you?”
“I’d hate it,” Punch said. “Then I couldn’t see yer purty face.”
“But you’d catch more fish, ’stead o’ gawkin’ at foine maid’ns all day.”
Mr. Cordey winked at her, and Emily smiled in reply. She then spied lines of split fillets, hanging to dry over a fire. She’d not noticed them before.
“Smoked herrings...?” she murmured.
He glanced over his shoulder. “Aye.”
“I don’t suppose you would sell us a few? One of our guests requested them particularly.”
“Sure us will. Punch, go an’ wrap some fer the maid’n.”
His son grinned. “Anythin’ fer Miss Emily.” And he went off to do so.
Mr. Cordey said, “Now, tell yer Mrs. Besley to fry ’em in butter or poach ’em in milk. Not too long, mind.”
“Thank you. Please add them to our account.”
Tom stepped toward her. “Bring the list?”
“I did, yes.” She handed it to him.
He glanced at it. “Trees, ey?”
“Yes.”
