Pendeen: A Middle Aged Gentleman’S Guide to the Problems, Pleasures, and Consequences of Holiday Romances

By Bill Smith

One man,
One group of enthusiasts,
(Romantic opportunities?)
Two consecutive Summer holidays,
Two women,
Totally different,
but equally fascinating.
How on Earth will he cope?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Mar 3, 2014
• ISBN: 9781491892985

Bill Smith

Bill Smith is the author of two cookbooks and many articles and essays in various magazines and journals. In 2019 he retired after twenty-five years as head chef at Crook's Corner Restaurant in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. He has received nominations several times from the James Beard Foundation for Best Chef Southeast and served for six years on the board of the Southern Foodways Alliance. In 2021 he received the Craig Claiborne Lifetime Achievement Award from that organization.

Book preview

Prologue

Once upon a time, in a county far far away (Cornwall), and a long time ago (1944, before I was born!) a man named Leonard Spencer started writing a story. It was a good story, finally stretching to four volumes, about a good man, Robert Pendeen, of his wife, Zelah, former child beggar, how he found her, and their life together. It was hailed as a great romantic triumph, and eventually some thirty years later, a television series entitled simply, ‘Pendeen,’ was made, based on this story. It too was a huge hit, also hailed as a great romantic triumph, and was sold to countries all over the world, making huge stars of its leading actors, namely Russell Penventon, who played the title role of Robert Pendeen, and Angela Ritter, who played the love of his life, his young bride Zelah.

At about the time the TV series was being contemplated, the author, having written several other successful books in the meantime, decided to revisit the scene of his earlier triumph, and wrote another three volumes to add to the saga. These were written when he had matured greatly in style and character, and met with great critical acclaim and also sold in millions, but no further TV series had ever been made of them.

Eventually, a sort of fan club, the Pendeen Society, was set up for devotees of the books and TV series, in order to try and persuade the relevant people to make another series based on the later volumes. Nothing much was achieved and the club seemed to hibernate, but a while later, under new management, things started to happen.

For one thing, I joined, hoping that such a club, based as it was around a common interest, might succeed on the romantic front where computer dating and other such expensive pursuits had failed miserably. However, nothing much else happened, either on the romantic or the Pendeen front. A year after that, though, things did start to happen.

Many things; not all good. For instance, who was the mysterious Mr Zuffhausen, and what exactly were his plans for Zephyr Films and the continuing story of Pendeen?

* * *

Chapter 1

How it all began.

So, who am I? Please allow me to elucidate.

My story begins on the 26th of February 1997, not one of the most important dates in the history of the world, but quite significant to me on two different levels. That day was modestly significant because it was my birthday, and would eventually turn out to be rather more significant, for reasons which I shall soon tell.

I stared, slightly bleary eyed, at the birthday card with which my mother had greeted me when I got to the breakfast table; it was from my sister, left at her last visit.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY it said, as if I needed reminding

If you look in the mirror and you can see grey hair and wrinkles, at least you know…

I turned inside to read… your eyesight’s OK.

Thanks, Carol, I muttered unappreciatively, thinking for the moment that this sort of Big Sister-Little Brother banter was supposed to have died out in the teens, a long, long time ago now. Just what I need on a morning like this, I added, listening to the rain pouring down outside.

So, there I was; nearly fit, nearly fat and nearly fifty? Nearly true.

Real Alpha Male stuff? Hardly.

I sat at the breakfast table that morning, morosely contemplating the fact that I was entering my forty eighth year, and my life seemed to be going, if anywhere, just further along the same old rut that I’d been following for God knows how long. Didn’t someone, I think it was a sports journalist, once wish that his early morning cup of tea would turn blue, to let him know that something significant was going to happen that day?

I gave my tea a long, hard stare; it stayed resolutely brown.

Having finished breakfast, and given the Daily Mail a further perusal, I looked at my cuppa; still brown. Suddenly, from somewhere near my boots, came a huge yawn. Eyes tight shut while still looking in the direction of my tea. I heard what sounded like a gentle, Thwack! which made me open my eyes a bit sharpish, to see a pale blue envelope. This, as the saying goes, would turn out to be the first day of the rest of my life, and definitely the more interesting part… although I didn’t realise it just yet.

Where was I? Ah yes, that pale blue envelope.

Your mail, said Mum, indicating said envelope, which she had put on my teacup.

Oh, thanks, I mumbled, still slightly groggy from that yawn. I started to open it.

Who do you know, she asked accusingly, who uses pale blue stationary?

Absolutely nobody, I replied, maybe rather curtly. I’d got used to this sort of interrogation over the years since the divorce. Every time there was a hint of a woman in my vicinity, which wasn’t often, she found yet more ways of saying, I told you so!

Obviously, I suppose I should have broken away from the apron strings years ago but, being unable to afford it, it never happened. My control freak father died not long after I married (You must know the type, There’s two ways to do this, son; my way and the wrong way! and in my childish naivety, I kept thinking that, being father, he must be right, even when common sense said otherwise) and I decided that marriage was the best way of doing something independently of his wishes. I think the shock killed him! Mind you, mine was a textbook case of marrying to escape a domineering parent, as its short life proved very well. Maybe now, some fifteen years later, I was starting to lose some of the hangups that I’d got from the pair of them.

* * *

I opened the letter, and as mother retired, muttering, back to bed, read on:

Good morning, it began cheerfully. (Not very, I thought sourly, as I listened to the delightful weather outside) My name is Jan Hallam. and I’m organising a holiday in Cornwall for later in the year, probably some time late in September.

I already had a touring holiday in Scotland planned for June, just me, my Ford Fiesta van, my tent and my camera gear, so this looked interesting for late summer. I read on:

Those among you with long memories may remember the TV series Pendeen, from some years ago, and I am hoping to make this something of a theme for the holiday, with at least one, possibly two, occasions on the holiday being spent in appropriate costume. Also, as the story was largely set in Cornwall, at the time of the Napoleonic wars, and most of the outdoor scenes were shot there, I’m hoping to see how many of those scenes we can look at in the time available, including visits to some pretty impressive houses there, some of which were also included in the series.

As an added bonus, I used to work with Russell Penventon, who was the star of the show, as his press agent, and I’m hoping that he will be available, work permitting, to join us occasionally on some of the excursions. Even if he can’t be there a good friend of his, Dave Lock, who also featured in the series in a supporting role, hopes to be there, again if work permits, so there should be somebody there to give us a commentary.

You may be wondering how I got your name and address, and I have to confess that, as well as working in the past with Russell Penventon, I was also a member of the Pendeen Society and, when the good lady who ran that group decided recently that she couldn’t continue, because of family commitments, I took over the reins, and the mailing list, and here we are. Under new management, as it were.

If you are interested, please fill in and tear off the form at the bottom of this sheet, and return to the address above. (likewise if you don’t want to be on the mailing list!)

* * *

I remembered watching, and thoroughly enjoying, the series on TV all those years ago, as had millions of others by all accounts, so I certainly did not wish to be removed from the mailing list. I’d even bought two volumes of the original saga at the time, but had long since lost them by the time honoured method of lending them to friends and never getting them back. Since then, much water had flowed under life’s bridge, and I had filed Pendeen to one of the dim and distant corners of my memory, where it had mouldered ever since. Maybe now was the time to retrieve it from that mysterious labyrinth.

* * *

All this was still passing through my mind some time later as I put that envelope in my jacket pocket and set off for work. Maybe I was being a little harsh when I said that, Same old rut, thing, etc. etc. Granted, as a factory clerk, my earnings were hardly in the Getty class but, as I had no great expectations in the romantic stakes, I was probably chugging along reasonably happily. The blokes I worked with all seemed equally happy in their work, and my immediate boss, the works foreman, tall, genial, Harry Daniels, was as fine a man as I’d ever worked for. Yes, life could have been an awful lot worse so, if not exactly with a spring in my step and a song in my heart I set off to earn my daily crust at Hadleigh Electric of Walthamstow, manufacturers of bespoke substation transformers to many of the world’s national grid systems; anything from three to sixty-odd tons each.

* * *

The weekend after receiving that letter, I filled in and detached the form and posted it to the address shown. That done, I continued on my way to the local shops in general, and the Sue Ryder charity shop in particular to investigate the Pendeen book situation. I quite often shop there for books as it’s cheap, and I usually tell the people serving to keep the change, so I can feel as if I’m doing some extra good at the same time.

I was hoping I might catch one or two of the books, preferably volume one, so I could start at the beginning when, Lo and Behold, there on a shelf, were all four volumes, the basis for the TV series. Thanking my lucky stars, I carefully took volume one, entitled, Robert Pendeen from the shelf. It was obviously an edition that coincided with the TV series as it had a photo of the eponymous hero, as played by Russell Penventon, taken from the show, on the front cover. I turned to the flysheet, to see the price, and pencilled in the corner it said, 75p. which seemed quite reasonable. £3 for the four of them didn’t sound at all bad, and I was just about to collect the other three books from their resting place when I noticed an indentation showing through the flysheet, as if something had been written on the other side. Wondering what it was, I turned the page and had a slight shiver when I realised that this book had been autographed by none other than Russell Penventon, star of the show, and Leonard Spencer, the author of the entire saga.

Clutching the books, I paid up and returned home to start studying for the holiday.

* * *

It soon became a standing joke at work that I’d suddenly taken to reading what all my workmates delighted in denouncing as ‘Bodice Rippers.’ I tried to educate them in the niceties of Leonard Spencer’s literary erudition, the well researched historical detail covering lots of different topics: mining, medicine, shipbuilding and even including dance steps and card playing. I can still remember one of my better educated work mates, Tony Sheffield, 19 years old and working with us in his gap year to finance his way through a University course in electrical engineering. One lunch time he was trying a crossword.

Card game! he called, Four letters; blank A, blank O. Any ideas, anyone?

Easy! I called back, Faro.

What the hell’s that? he queried, in a deeply doubtful tone of voice.

A card game! I calmly answered, waving the book.

Oh well, it seems to fit. I’ll give it a try.

Another satisfied customer.

* * *

Just how satisfied a customer I was to find out a few days later, when Tony appeared in our office, carrying a video cassette, which he placed on my desk. It was the first video of the series. I found this at home. I thought you might like to borrow it.

Oh, that’s great Tony, thanks. I’ll probably watch it tonight.

After you were talking about Pendeen the other day, Tony explained, I remembered my mum raving about it when it was on telly all those years ago, so I asked her if we’d still got the videos of the series. Knowing my Dad to be an inveterate hoarder, I thought I was on pretty safe ground and, sure enough, there in a box was the series, all four videos

All four, that’s good… er, where are the others?

He replied, a little hesitantly, I asked Mum if I could lend them to you, as you seemed to be such an enthusiast for the series, and the books, and she said sure. I was originally going to bring them all to you but, having decided to watch a bit of this tape, just to see what all the fuss was about, I ended up watching all of it over the last couple of evenings, so I hope you realise this means that you’ll have to have to wait until I’ve watched the others before I pass them on to you!

At this point, there was a rustling behind us as Harry looked over the top of his paper, looked over the top of his glasses, and gave a long, meaningful look at Tony. Oh dear, he said, tut-tutting and shaking his head sadly. Another good man gone. Not that he was really in any position to cast aspersions; as soon as he’d seen me start on book two, he immediately asked if he could have a read of book one!

* * *

That evening I hid myself away from public gaze, and from my mum’s gaze, and watched the whole of that tape, all in one go, all three hours of it. Oh boy, that certainly took me back some! I remembered how, way back when it was first shown, in the 1970s, I’d seen the trailers for it and thought, Oh God no, not another historical drama, all earnest tedium; Charles Dickens, William Shakespeare, you’ve got a lot to answer for, boring so many people for so long! and made a point, as I had before with all such dramas by those two aforementioned gentlemen, of studiously not watching it. (this one wasn’t by either of them, but I didn’t know that at the time as I had yet to introduce myself to the niceties of Leonard Spencer’s literary excellence)

So how did I come to be in the situation I was in now? Apparently the series which I had so carefully avoided watching proved to be so popular that they had taken the never before heard of step of repeating it almost immediately after first showing it. All this, of course had completely passed me by, and on one particular Saturday afternoon I had been helping a friend dig over his back garden. Having spent the best part of four hours in pretty heavy manual labour, I arrived back home and collapsed in a shattered heap in an armchair, just in time for the heavenly chorus of the opening theme tune of episode two of this wretched programme, ‘Pendeen’. Being simply too tired to get up and walk away from it, I consoled myself with the thought that I would probably fall asleep fairly soon, saving myself from seeming hours of boredom. In fact, by the time that hour long episode was over, not only was I wide awake, but I was already making a mental note to reserve the same time next week for episode three, having thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it.

Soon after the entire series had been reshown, with me watching all the remaining episodes, a letter appeared in one of the daily papers announcing the formation of a Pendeen Society for enthusiasts of the TV series. That looks interesting, I thought, as I made a note of the address and wrote off for details. Said details duly arrived, and I read them quickly but, as I was getting engrossed in something else at the time, I carefully filed them in a safe place and promptly forgot all about them, for several years, but at least it seems my name and address got on the Pendeen Society mailing list, awaiting this long postponed opportunity to revolutionise my life.

All this was still going intermittently through my mind a couple of days later when Tony appeared with the second video cassette of the TV series.

I expect you’ll be watching most of this tonight… he said.

Probably, I replied, taking the cassette from him and looking at the sleeve notes.

In that case, Tony replied, a little hesitantly, could I ask a small favour?

I should think so, I said. I must owe you one by now.

My Mum mentioned last night, while I was watching this one, that when this was on in the 70s, she had, as she put it, a king size crush on Russell Penventon. (Oh God yes, my wife too, Harry muttered disgustedly in the background) So I was wondering if I could have the first two cassettes back when you’ve watched this one, so that I can copy them for you to keep. Then I can hang onto these and keep Mum happy.

Sure, I replied cheerfully, "no problem. After all, you’ve got to keep Mum happy.

Tell you what, I added, I’ll pay you for the tapes so you can do another copy for numbers three and four.

As Tony happily left the office, I gave the sleeve notes of cassette two a read, looked forward to numbers three and four coming soon, and resumed reading book two.

* * *

Now that both Harry and Tony were getting interested in the Pendeen saga, they both started asking me questions about details of the plot. Now, Tony was a bright lad, well used to absorbing huge amounts of information at first reading on most subjects, hence his studying for a university course, and Harry, being a fairly highly qualified engineer, wasn’t far behind him, but I, by comparison, having barely made OND in mechanical engineering, (about the equivalent of A levels) lagged quite some way behind both of them in speed of uptake, and for this reason I had some difficulty answering them.

Fortunately, some time before, one of the members had written to Jan with this problem very much in mind, and asked if it was possible for Jan to compose some sort of resume of the entire Pendeen book / TV / Society situation, for when her friends started asking the inevitable, awkward questions, and she had gladly done so. Having given due thanks for Jan’s foresight, I could now, whenever they started asking those awkward questions, show them my copy of her dossier:

* * *

The Pendeen Story &

The Pendeen Society

in a nutshell

In the beginning was the book… .

In the dying months of 1944, Leonard Spencer, a wounded war hero, was invalidded out of the army to return, after a period of convalescence, to civvy street. He spent most of that time with his parents, who had retired to Cornwall before the war, and became so fond of the place that, having taken a keen interest in its history, he decided to while away his free time writing a story… .

They say most first novels are largely autobiographical, so why should this have been any exception… .

It was set in late 18th Century Cornwall, and Robert Pendeen, a wounded war hero, had just returned home from army service in India. He had decided on an army career because his life didn’t seem to be heading anywhere, and his recently widowed father seemed agreeable, so he had gone. While he was away, his father’s tin mine, only marginally profitable at the best of times, went broke and the land surrounding Pendeen House wasn’t sufficiently fertile to make farming much of an option, so things went steadily downhill. Hearing that his father was in poor health, Robert returned to find that his father had since died, leaving him sole beneficiary to a virtually useless farm and a defunct mine.

Periodically, he went to visit his relatives from the more prosperous branch of the Pendeen family, who lived in the much more majestic Trethowan House, built for them in the past when that branch of the family was particularly rich, but now living on past glories as their own mine was gradually failing.

Robert managed to get a loan from an old family friend, and with this decided to investigate the possibility of finding new lodes and restarting his mine. Travelling into town for some provisions, he was accosted by a child beggar, but he rejected her with a laugh, which brought a hail of abuse from her. He was still chuckling over her inventive turn of phrase as he continued riding into town to buy his supplies.

Returning that evening with a loaded wagon he found she was still there so he decided, on the spur of the moment, to offer her a job working as his housekeeper’s assistant. Initially, she misunderstood what it was he was offering, and jumped at the chance, but as soon as she found out what the job actually entailed, she decided against staying, but by this time it was pouring with rain outside, so she thought she had nothing to lose by staying on a while and giving it a try.

Three years later, she was still there, running not just the household, but also the two old servants inherited with it, and with such a deft touch that Robert was impressed. He was so impressed, in fact, that he married her, so Zelah Curnow, former child beggar, became Zelah Pendeen, lady of the manor, such as it was.

In the meantime the mine, the original reason for heading into town and accidentally finding himself a housekeeper/wife, was doing fairly well. Not brilliantly, but well enough to keep the wolf, in the shape of the dastardly, villainous banker, Jeffrey Pendragon, from the door. Mr Pendragon had a particular interest in the Pendeen property because it bordered onto the sea in an inlet which formed a particularly good natural harbour, which he had designs on building into a small port, a sort of north coast version of Charlestown, recently built on the south coast, but the refusal of Robert Pendeen to go broke was a continual blight on his plans. Trethowan House had fallen into his grasp when that mine closed but, not bordering onto the sea, was no use to him.

Zelah meanwhile, in spite of, or maybe because of, her lowly upbringing, became a more than capable verbal sparring partner with the dastardly Pendragon, once saving Robert’s financial bacon when Pendragon swooped while he was away on business.

Following a serious rockfall in his mine, Robert discovered a rich lode of copper, which transformed his fortunes almost overnight, enabling him to branch out into other money making schemes. But no matter how rich he subsequently became, he never lost touch with the people who helped him when he first returned home as a poor man, and he always helped them to fight off the evil advances of Pendragon or his henchmen, which was one of the reasons for the book’s popularity. Overriding all this, though, and definitely the major reason for the appeal of the book, was the lively, (sometimes fiery!) vivacity of the leading lady and the equally passionate relationship between them.

Considering his lack of previous experience at writing, Leonard was pleasantly surprised, not only in getting this book published in the first place, but in the fact that it sold well. Well enough, in fact to inspire him to write volume two, which followed on in 1950. (Volume 1 having been published in 1947) Volume three came in 1953, and volume four in 1955. By this time he had decided that, since the Pendeen story seemed to be complete, to diversify into other fields of writing, and the Pendeen saga was left, although it still sold steadily through the subsequent decades.

Next came the television series… .

In the 1970s, a certain TV company, ever on the lookout for a new idea for a television series, somewhat belatedly discovered the Pendeen saga. By all accounts, they weren’t quite sure what to make of it, Leonard Spencer, steady seller though he might be, wasn’t Dickens or Shakespeare, but someone liked the story, so they pressed on.

With some inspired casting all the way down the list, but especially among the leading names, the series was an enormous success. Russell Penventon made himself a huge reputation as Robert Pendeen, and carried on in british TV. Similarly Angela Ritter found fame as Zelah Pendeen, was promptly snapped up by Hollywood, and was largely lost to British TV viewers. Reggie Benson, already well known as a character actor on TV, saw his reputation achieve new heights as the evil Jeffrey Pendragon.

Eventually, Pendeen was sold to forty foreign countries, and some years later Russell Penventon, holidaying in Tokyo, was idly channel hopping on his hotel TV, when he came across Robert and Jeffrey having a very heated discussion—dubbed in Japanese!

Eventually, after some decades had passed, Leonard decided, probably in a moment of nostalgia, that he would like to see what would have happened to the characters of the Pendeen saga in later years and so, as luck would have it at about the time the powers that be at the TV company were contemplating his first series of books, he set about continuing the saga. Three later volumes being published in 1978, 1981 and 1984.

These later volumes, written when Leonard Spencer had