‘Do you know where she hailed from in the UK?’ Isabel recalled the traces of an accent, the slight rolling of an ‘r’ and dropping of an ‘h’ she’d picked up as Ginny spoke her last words.
‘Southampton originally.’
Goosebumps prickled her arms; she wasn’t surprised she was from the South East she had managed to say that she wanted to go back to Wight, but the same city as her? The coincidence sent a shiver coursing through her. ‘I’m from Southampton.’
Father Joyce sensing he had a captive audience was only too happy to continue with his musings. ‘Well now isn’t that a coincidence, and it was definitely Southampton because I remember she mentioned it in conjunction with her being the city from which the Titanic sailed forth. She didn’t talk much about her life before coming to New Zealand. Although we got onto the subject of the war one day and she did remark that she’d gone to live in the town of Ryde on the Isle of Wight at the outbreak of World War Two. Ginny said it was deemed safer than the port city, and she married a local lad while she was there on the island.’
If Isabel had had antennae, they would have been quivering. Here was the connection Ginny had to Wight.
‘She never told me his name, but she did tell me she was pregnant when the news arrived that her husband had been killed in battle. The poor fellow, like so many other young men of the time, didn’t get to celebrate his twentieth birthday or the birth of his son.’ He shook his head, and the wisps of hair floated up briefly before settling back down on his scalp with a silent sigh. ‘After his death, she felt she couldn’t stay on Wight with all its ghosts of what might have been, so she returned to the mainland with her son. It was there she met Neville who adopted Teddy. He was still a wee babe, and the three of them immigrated to New Zealand in the mid-forties along with the rest of the ten-pound poms wanting to put the war years behind them.
‘They bought land upon arriving here and farmed it until Neville died. It wasn’t an easy life she was always quick to mention, but it was a good life. She tried to run the farm on her own for a while after Neville passed but it was too much, and she sold up. I think it always saddened her that Teddy didn’t come home and step in where his father left off, but he had a different path to follow. She’d downsized and moved into Timaru shortly before I arrived in town.’
Isabel seized the break in his story. ‘Father Joyce, just before she passed she asked me to promise her something.’
He peered closely at her. ‘I can see whatever it was she asked of you is weighing heavily on your mind, Isabel.’ Then, he did a little jiggle ridding himself of the crumbs that had settled on the front of his robe before turning his attention back to Isabel. ‘You’re welcome to share that promise with me if you think it might help.’
‘She asked me to find someone called Constance and to tell her she was sorry she should never have left. Those were pretty much her words, and the only clue she gave me was that she’d wanted to go back to Wight herself to say sorry.’
‘Now that is interesting,’ he rubbed his chin, ‘because there was something on Ginny’s mind of late. She wouldn’t allude to what it was other than to say she needed to go back to Ryde—there was someone she had to see. She must have been referring to this Constance she mentioned to you. She wouldn’t tell me why she wanted to go back, but there was a desperation about her this last while which I can only put down to her age and the realization that nobody lives forever. In fact, the day she died a suitcase was in the car as well as a return ticket to the United Kingdom. Did you know that?’
Isabel shook her head; she’d been in too much shock at the time to pay attention to anything other than Ginny.
‘No, why would you? Teddy, told me he was most perturbed by this as he knew nothing of her plans.’ Father Joyce laid a hand on her arm once more. ‘Isabel, Ginny, for all her endearing attributes was also a woman with a stubborn streak. I believe it was this unwillingness of hers to listen to those who knew better that saw her continue to get behind the wheel. This was despite being told she was endangering others each time she did so. It’s a blessing that nobody else was hurt in the accident as she wouldn’t have been able to rest in peace had she done so.’ He nodded and raised his hand in a wave to signal goodbye to one of his parishioners who’d paused as though wanting to interrupt but had thought better of it. ‘Mrs Mercer, a gossip of the highest order if you give her an in,’ he mumbled out the corner of his mouth.
Isabel watched in amusement as the older woman in a pair of black trousers that fitted a tad too snuggly— and would cause concern were she to attempt to bend over—scuttled over to join a small party also
