There was no sign of his painting gear, Isabel noted now as Rhodri got up from his seat to greet them. She hoped he hadn’t been waiting long; it was only just after 4 p.m. though the time they’d agreed to meet.
‘I’ve ordered a pot of tea and a scone each with jam on the side. I hope that’s all right? The monks make their own jam. I poked my head in the farm shop and bought a couple of jars of their raspberry preserve as well as some relish. You can’t beat homemade.’ He smiled at them both.
‘Lovely, I’m parched,’ Constance said, nodding her earlier sentiment about it being time to go home forgotten at the thought of tea and a scone.
‘Me too,’ Isabel reiterated with a smile. ‘Did you do some painting?’
‘I did thanks, and then I packed up so as I could mooch around the abbey. There’s all sorts to see here you know. I spotted one of Nico’s works on display in the art gallery, and the Brothers keep pigs and rescued hens as well as maintain an impressive vegetable patch. They’re pretty much self-sufficient.’
‘It’s not changed since I was a girl,’ Constance said.
‘No I’d imagine not,’ Rhodri replied. ‘It’s a special place.’
Constance and Isabel looked at each other upon hearing that sentiment not long since uttered by Constance. Isabel reached across the table and patted her hand, and Rhodri’s gaze swung between the two of them unsure as to what had transpired that afternoon but too polite to ask. The arrival of their tea and plump scones with a pottle of homemade jam provided a diversion, and the trio tucked in. A few bites later and with crumbs all down her front, Isabel declared the scones and jam, ‘delicious.'
It was a silent ride back to Sea Vistas and sensing no one was in the mood for chatting Rhodri let the radio play softly. From the dip of Constance’s head, Isabel was guessing she’d nodded off. She gazed out the window, but didn't see the countryside this time; her mind was too full of what Constance had told her. Rhodri had stilled the engine before Isabel caught up with the fact they were back at Sea Vistas. The car park was nearly deserted save for the staff members with most of the Sunday visitors having headed off to let the residents have their dinner.
Rhodri got out and unloaded the wheelchair not bothering to mess about with unfolding it; it had taken them long enough to collapse it once more in the first place. He leaned it against the Land Rover before giving Isabel a hand to help Constance down. Isabel linked her arm through Constance’s and followed Rhodri’s lead as he carted the chair inside to the foyer ahead of them. It was a different girl on reception, there for the evening shift and she introduced herself as Courtenay with a ‘C.' Isabel hadn’t seen her before, and she returned her greeting cheerily.
‘Did you have a nice outing?’ Courtney directed her question to Constance who told her she was Constance with a ‘C’ before giving her a curt, ‘yes thank you.’ The girl’s manner was that of someone fresh from school and to whom anyone over the age of thirty-five was ancient. Isabel bit her lip to stop herself from smiling at the exchange. It didn’t pay to talk to Constance as though she’d been put out to pasture. Rhodri she saw too had a gleam in his eye.
He jangled his keys. ‘I’ve got a pottery class tonight, Isabel, do you want a lift home?’
‘No thanks, I’ll probably go straight from here to the Rum Den. Thanks so much for taking us today Rhodri.’ She made a mental note to purchase some petrol vouchers, not that he was likely to accept them.
‘It was my pleasure. Right then, ladies, I’ll be on my way.’ He leaned down and kissed Constance on the cheek, ending the day as it had begun.
‘Thank you for today.’
‘You’re very welcome.’
The two women stood and watched him go.
A clatter from the direction of the dining room reminded Isabel of the time. ‘Would you like to pop through to the dining room, and see what’s on offer?’
Constance shook her head. ‘No I’m not hungry. Are you?’
‘No, that scone did the trick. Shall I see you up to your room then?’
‘Yes. I’m quite done in.’
Isabel wasn’t surprised; it had been a huge afternoon. They made their way to the lift that was standing open waiting for them. The corridor outside Constance’s room was deserted, Isabel saw as the doors slid open. She took Constance’s arm and matched her pace waiting patiently as they reached her room. She opened her purse asking Isabel to retrieve her room key. A moment later Isabel followed her inside and paused to admire the pink glow the room was cast in as the last of the day’s sunshine bounced off the soft furnishings. It was such a warm and welcoming space, she thought. The significance of Sea Vistas to Constance’s past suddenly struck her. It was where she met Henry and lost him too. Henry Johnson, the great love of her life, had played out the final scenes of his life in this building.
Her eyes flitted toward Rhodri’s painting; she understood now why Constance had wanted it the moment she saw it. Quarr was hers and Henry’s place it was where Teddy had been conceived.
She led Constance over to her chair by the window and watched her sag into it.
‘Would you like me to stay for a bit, Constance?’
‘No, dear. I think I’d like to be alone.’
‘You’re
