Betrayed in Cornwall Read Free Page B

rose above the piers. Although they did not fish as a fleet most of the fishermen were taking advantage of the tides and the weather. Directly ahead was St Michael’s Mount with a history stretching back to the days when the Phoenicians probably came to trade for tin. Rose loved reading about the history as well as the legends and folklore of Cornwall. She had particularly enjoyed a book about the Mount, once a stronghold of the Royalists, and how it had been defended furiously by them until they had been overcome. Because of their bravery they had been allowed to surrender as soldiers, not as prisoners. But not before his own men had had to restrain the Royalist leader, Sir John Arundel, a man then in his eighties, from blowing the whole thing up in protest. Rose smiled at the recollection as she looked over towards the Lizard Point, the southernmost tip of the country which formed one arm of the huge haven of the bay. No landmarks were visible and, in the distance, its darkly silhouetted outline looked like a sleeping monster. Around the Mount were yachts with red sails and she could hear the engine of a trawler as the sound carried across the water before it came into sight.
    When the telephone rang she assumed it would be a message to say that her parents, Evelyn and Arthur Forbes, had been delayed but it was Laura Penfold, who would ring or call in for a chat at any time of day.
    ‘Did you get the fish? I told Trevor to knock, but you know what he’s like.’
    Rose did. He was one of the most taciturn men she had ever met, speaking only in answer to a question or when he had something to say. ‘I did. Thank him for me.’
    ‘Have your parents arrived yet?’
    ‘No. I’m expecting them any minute.’
    ‘I won’t keep you then. See you tomorrow night.’
    Rose hung up, smiling. How like Laura to telephone about nothing. The smile widened as she heard a car turn into the drive.
    It was several months since Rose’s parents had visited, but they hadn’t altered. Evelyn Forbes was fractionally taller than her daughter and held herself well. She was wearing a pale blue cotton shirt-waister which she had managed not to crease during the journey. Her hair, once the same shade as Rose’s, had faded but it was still soft and was held back from her forehead by a narrow velvet band. She ought to have looked like a relic from the fifties, but Evelyn had a certain style which succeeded in conveying modernity.
    Arthur was five inches taller than his wife and had been lean throughout the whole of his life. Deep lines etched his face which had never lost the colour acquired from working out of doors. Until he had become bored with the ever-increasing government restrictions upon farmers it was the way in which he had earned his living. He understood exactly what the fishermen were going through. Having made enough money to retire, he had done so before the time came when he would need to plough his profits into a losing venture. The farm had been sold and he and his wife had moved to a cottage in the Cotswolds where the garden had been Evelyn’s idea of a dream.
    Emotional tears filled Rose’s eyes as first her mother then her father hugged her. ‘How’s my girl?’ Arthur asked with a lopsided smile. To him Rose was still a girl and would always be one.
    ‘I’m fine. And you both look so well.’ Rose was lucky in that neither of her parents was infirm. They lived a life fuller thanmany people half their age. As an only child she had not been spoiled but she had been treated as someone special with an independent mind. It had come as a surprise to the Forbeses when she had decided to train as an artist but the decision had been hers alone and they had accepted her choice of career without question.
    ‘We’re so very proud of you,’ Evelyn said. ‘We’ve been telling absolutely everyone.’
    ‘Your mother even went to the trouble of buying a new outfit for tomorrow night, and you know how rarely that happens these