Gwen's Gentlemen: Seafarers, #3

By Ruth Hay

A nineteenth century seaman's journal. A woman searching for renewal. An unexpected friendship.

Is it possible that Gwen’s life could be transformed like her sister Emily’s? If so, which of the gentlemen, dead or alive, will claim her affections?

In the first two books in the Seafarers Series, Emily Harrison finds her true love in Victor.
Now it could be her sister’s turn; but there is a problem. Gwen Harrison has never been an easy person to like. Perhaps it is because of her hard-scrabble existence, but when she is left on her own after her sister Emily’s marriage, she has to rethink her life and look to her future. And that means men!

Can she snag a man and persuade him she has changed her ways? Does she even want to?

This is the third novel in the Seafarers series of discerning women's fiction adventure books. It can be read as a standalone story. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ruth Hay
• Release date: Mar 10, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524277932

Book preview

1

The day the ‘Notice to Vacate’ arrived through her letterbox, Gwen Harrison knew she could no longer put off the difficult decisions awaiting her.

She had returned from a short stay with her sister Emily and husband Victor, to a small, dark, damp cottage that was to be demolished in one week.

Looking around with eyes that were now accustomed to the superior accommodations of the apartment at High Tides, she saw the sad truth; everything in the cottage was outdated, outworn and fit only to be thrown out.

It was an unhappy realization nevertheless. This place was where the sisters had lived all their lives. It was where their mother and father had lived, and the grandparents before them. The tiny garden was where Gwen had encouraged vegetables to thrive and old English plants like lavender and rosemary to blossom. Number Six, Cottage Row, Foxfield, was all they had known and now it was to be consigned to a scrap heap along with all the other cottages.

She had only a few days left in which to dispose of the contents. This was the hardest part. The memories were all around her. Her chair by the fireside that was indented with the weight of her father before her, the soft furnishings Emily had lovingly sewn, the dishes her mother had loved and cherished, the slate tiles on the floor worn down by the feet of generations and the table scoured and polished to within an inch of its life by all the women of the Harrison family in succession.

Gwen sighed and immediately rolled up her sleeves. This was no time to dilly dally. Decisions had to be made. Her inborn sense of distaste for any kind of waste was rising up to challenge her. If there was any way to recycle the unwanted goods she would find it. In the meantime, she would assemble anything that could be useful in the new seniors’ apartment building which was about to rise up in the village in some six months and where she had already selected her future abode.

Of course the size of her new living quarters was not fully known. Along with others, she had been shown a floor plan. She knew there was one bedroom, one full bathroom, a compact kitchen adjoining a lounge, some storage cupboards and two windows, one of which was a sliding door onto a small balcony. She had reserved one of the six upper-level apartments because of this feature. The first floor apartments had no balconies as a safety measure.

As she thought of this, Gwen made up her mind to dig up some of her favourite plants from her garden and place them in pots for the balcony. It would be a little touch of home. But what else of home should be saved?

She wandered around picking up items and putting them back in position again. She felt that once she started, nothing would ever be the same. Her memories would be altered. It would be the beginning of a final farewell.

Emily had told her sister to throw it all away and start fresh. She wanted nothing from the cottage but, then, Emily had a splendid new home with a new husband and a new life to match. Gwen’s new start would not include all of those amazing features and yet it was a perfect opportunity to re-evaluate and to establish new routines and new ways of being. It would be foolish to drag her old life with her to the new building. She unfolded the two boxes she had brought and took a deep breath. What would not fit into these boxes was not going to her new life. That was final.

One last look around and she began.

Ever since the idea had been presented to the residents of the cottages in Foxfield, they had known their lives were about to change radically. When all of them had decided to accept the offer of cash, or a seniors’ apartment, it was somewhat of a surprise to Gwen. Her first thought was that Daphne Dixon would ruin the whole enterprise. The developer intended to demolish all six cottages, numbered from two to twelve, and also the Village Shop at the bottom of the hill. Since this was Daphne’s livelihood as well as her home, Gwen expected strenuous objections from the shopkeeper. Everyone in Foxfield knew about Daphne’s ability to object to almost anything and her opposition was virtually guaranteed.

The developer, however, was a canny Scot. He sized up the situation and presented Daphne with an offer she could not refuse. The new building would include space for a ground-floor-level shop and Daphne Dixon could have first choice of the available apartments.

Gwen watched while Daphne hummed and hawed and tried to protest but the words would not emerge from her throat. She was well aware of the problems all the cottage owners had with damp. As the owner of the lowest-lying building in the village, she had to be constantly on alert for rising damp. Even in her tiny stockroom she must keep boxes and parcels off the floor. Over the years when it was a typically wet English winter, she had lost stock and to Daphne Dixon lost stock was money gone forever.

She immediately quizzed the developer about floor space in the proposed shop, and his window plans and his safety measures, and the proposed schedule of work and it was not until he had provided satisfactory answers to all her questions that the assembled group of cottagers could breathe a sigh of relief. If Daphne Dixon was willing to accept these terms then there was real hope the plan would go ahead.

The shopkeeper soon had an advantage none of the others had. Her small flat sat above the shop and the developer agreed she need not vacate immediately. Part of the new driveway would be placed over her property but it was not a space he required at once. The Village Shop could continue to supply necessities to the residents of Foxfield for some months to come. Daphne Dixon was content.

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Gwen had looked around the circle of cottage neighbours perched uncomfortably on folding chairs in the chill meeting room of the old church. All of them clutched cups of tea or coffee to their chests in a vain attempt to still their shivers. She knew they were contemplating the need to vacate their homes while the new seniors’ residence was constructed. Gwen was in an enviable position with regard to this problem. She had a fine apartment waiting for her in her sister’s home in Tunbridge Wells. She guessed others might not be so lucky.

Gwen and Emily Harrison had maintained a firm policy of privacy for their entire lives in the third cottage in the row. Gwen was adamant that none of their neighbours should know about their impoverished circumstances and this had led to her reputation for being ‘a stuck-up, snooty madam’, an appellation of which she remained quietly proud.

To keep her privacy required little to no contact with the neighbouring cottage residents but this did not mean Gwen was unaware of the comings and goings of those residents. For many years, when Emily was off at her part-time job in the Petersfield Dental Office or at one of the other tasks in the town that had augmented their meagre income, Gwen made it her business to watch everything and everyone. She knew a lot about the other cottagers’ movements but nothing much at all about the actual people.

Number Eight, their neighbour on the upward slope, was occupied by a single, elderly man. She recognized him in the meeting and noticed how he moved around awkwardly in his seat. Clearly he was not happy sitting there. His name was Brian Shields, and he was the last brother of a family who had been in the cottage since the days when Gwen and Emily’s parents were in Number Six. Gwen wondered vaguely how he would cope and hoped he had remaining relatives somewhere who could give him a room while the construction was underway.

Seated next to Brian was another elderly man, Joe Stevens. Daphne, repository of all the village gossip, had told Gwen he had plans to move away and stay with his daughter now that his wife had died. For him, the timing of this change would be perfect. He would leave with money from the developer.

A younger couple was also present. Gwen had hardly seen these two. It was unusual for a new couple to move into the old cottages and Gwen supposed they were very short of money if it was all they could afford. Their cottage was right next to the first in line, Number Two, which had been condemned several years before because of a fire in the thatched roof that had damaged the structure. Gwen had always thought the fire had also affected Cottage Number Four, her nearest neighbour on the downward slope. She had been pleased when it was vacated, thinking it, too, would be uninhabitable. Clearly, she was wrong. The young couple were evidence of that.

Cottage Number Eight held the Reverend and Mrs. Norman Webster. Felicity Webster represented them at the meeting as, she was quick to explain, her husband had been called away to a sick parishioner. Gwen had nodded to the lady but as neither she nor Emily was a regular churchgoer, she had not established a connection to the couple. Their cottage was owned by the diocese and occupied by whoever was the current vicar of Foxfield Parish Church. The Websters should be able to find accommodation through their church connection, Gwen calculated.

It was none of her business how the others would manage the six-month building schedule. She was interested in knowing the details, however, as the residents of the twelve seniors’ apartments were to be her new neighbours and she had some concern about who would be living in such close proximity to her own apartment in the future. Neighbours could be a nuisance if they were of the wrong type. It was a matter of some concern to Gwen.

A second row of chairs held more familiar faces. Darwin Elliott and Harry Frame had been her cleaning customers for years and both had a good understanding about boundaries. They had decided to give up their superior homes on the other side of the green area and move to more convenient, one-floor apartments. Gwen knew this move would supply them with plenty of cash for the rent. They had no money worries for the future.

Beside the two men sat a strangely-dressed woman who had been introduced by Darwin as his neighbour, Miss Ermintrude Evans. This was the first time Gwen had seen the lady and she was curious about why. Had she been hiding in the charming villa? Why had Darwin never mentioned her? Surely Gwen would have noticed the woman in her flowing clothes that seemed to consist of several colourful layers one on top of another. Gwen’s instinct to track down people’s stories was awakened. She planned to get to the bottom of this mystery as soon as possible but she was also aware of further mysteries to be solved.

Of the twelve available apartments she could identify the occupants of only five; herself, Daphne, Darwin, Harry and, presumably, this Ermintrude woman. This left seven unknowns and it would be six whole months until she would know for sure who else would be her near neighbours in the new seniors’ building.

2

It was not in the nature of Gwen Harrison to waste six months of her time in idle speculation. She knew Daphne Dixon would keep a tab on all the comings and goings in Foxfield while Gwen resided in Tunbridge Wells but she had a number of projects of her own to complete in the former housekeeper’s apartment on the lower level of the High Tides mansion.

First, she wanted to work on the large garden at the rear of the home. A good start had already been made on this project. Gwen had befriended the gardener. Dan had learned to respect the country-woman’s knowledge of vegetables and fruit trees. Gwen had determined to supply the household with fresh produce and make the garden pay for its keep and Dan agreed to help.

Second, she had encouraged Emily and Victor to take advantage of the Seafarer Cruise Line’s reduced-price voyages for which Victor, as a retired, long-term employee, was eligible.

After all, Victor, you have the right to enjoy a holiday on board without the necessity to instruct a group of ladies in dance steps every night and day. You should go and relax with your new bride. I will take good care of everything here.

Victor and Emily had discussed this offer at length in the privacy of their bedroom.

What do you think Emily?

I need to know how you feel, Victor. Is it too soon? Would you feel uncomfortable in an environment where you had been a working staff member not too long ago?

Victor Roberts lifted his wife’s hand and gently kissed the two rings on her third finger.

If you were by my side, my dear, I would not be thinking of anyone or anything else. Our last Seafarer voyage was fraught with so much drama and uncertainty, it would be a very pleasant thought to just become an invisible couple among all the other travellers. It could be a delightful honeymoon trip for us.

Hmm! I know Gwen would look after the house and she might even make friends with Mischief in time. As she is going to be with us until her new residence is complete, it would give us a bit of a break if we went off for two or three weeks by ourselves. I rather like the idea, Victor.

Excellent! I’ll look up the itineraries for this season and see if there’s something available to please my lady wife. We shall have a superior Seafarer cabin and everything First Class all the way.

Oh, Victor! You do spoil me much too much.

For a moment his handsome face grew solemn. Dearest Emily, I have waited so long to have an opportunity to spoil a woman who loves me as wholeheartedly as you do. It’s my pleasure entirely.

As they drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms, it occurred to Emily that her sister might want free rein to pursue a very special interest. On a prior visit, Gwen had uncovered an old seaman’s journal concealed in what had once been the housekeeper’s apartment. Emily could see her sister’s eyes gleam every time they had deciphered another page of the journal and speculated on the meaning of those written statements. Gwen had always had a talent for ferreting out secrets on their annual cruise holidays. She now had a laptop computer on which to record her stories, courtesy of Emily’s winnings at the casino on board during their last and most memorable cruise. Given a free hand with the material, Emily estimated her sister would be busy creating an amazing tale.

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Emily had correctly identified her sister’s third project but there was a fourth item on her list. Victor had given his sister-in-law the key to a large storage room on the upper floor of the mansion. Furniture that his mother and father had rejected, when they bought newer antiques to suit their style, had been placed in this room for future disposal. Victor wanted Gwen to select anything she needed from here for her new seniors’ apartment in Foxfield. It was Emily who had suggested this to him.

She may transfer the old, broken down furniture from Number Six, Cottage Row to her new place unless she has an inexpensive option. There’s nothing better than free to our Gwen and it would be much better for her to start off with fresh things around her. I certainly appreciate how much it helps to let go of old ideas and habits when you are surrounded with brighter, lovelier pieces every day.

I hope you include me in that, Emily?

Oh, Victor! You are such a tease! You know how much I value you above all the expensive items in this home, but Gwen does not have a Victor to brighten her days and nights. I think it would be a kind gesture to offer her whatever she needs from the storeroom.

I agree, and it’s typical of you to think of her in this way. I would be relieved if she empties the entire space. I’ve never known what to do with it all.

That’s settled then. She can pick out what she wants while we are away and she won’t have to ask permission from us. I’ll get her to put stickers on the things that would fit into the new place and we can have them moved there when the building is finished.

Emily stopped to think for a moment. Never in her life had she had the opportunity to be so generous to another person. The sisters were obliged to depend on her earnings and any charitable instincts she might have had previously, had to be squashed in favour of saving for life’s necessities and the once-a-year cruise holiday when they pretended to be something they most certainly were not.

Now, and entirely unexpectedly, she was ‘Lady of the Manor’ with a husband who was the soul of generosity. Of all the benefits of her new position, this ability to share the largesse she had acquired by marriage was the most welcome. Victor’s idea to make the housekeeper’s apartment available to Gwen had shown her the way. She intended to take an active role in community services in her new town of Tunbridge Wells. She was ready and willing to ‘pay it forward’ as people said nowadays, and the thought filled her with anticipation.

Gwen Harrison was eagerly anticipating the departure of the Roberts’ on their cruise. She wanted to have free run of the house in their absence to prove her reliability and to return some of the kindness both of them had