Isobella: Self Redemption: Isobella, #2

By Margaret Nyhon

The sequel to Isobella

Isobella had lost it all, her husband, her lover and her millions.

The promise she made to herself to find Tilly Dunnage's tombstone was all that was left here for her, then she would move on elsewhere. Little did she know the secrets that this headstone would reveal. The impact would change her life forever, bringing with it joy and the deepest heartache.

This is a heart-warming novel about reuniting a lost family, and the vying by two family members for the love of one man.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Willow Press
• Release date: May 20, 2018
• ISBN: 9780473425906

Margaret Nyhon

Margaret Nyhon lives in Alexandra, in the Central Otago province of New Zealand, where she writes, paints and practises the crafts of printing and bookbinding. She has worked extensively in hospitality management in New Zealand and resort management in Australia. The urge to trace her family history led to her most recent venture, the writing of her first non-fiction work, de Marisco. Margaret is married and has three adult children and two grandsons.

Book preview

1

Isobella

Isobella could be seen searching the cemetery day after day, walking up and down the rows of headstones reading all the inscriptions, hoping to find a clue as to where Tilly Dunnage lay. She had been to all the funeral parlours in the city in the hope of finding which one may have buried Tilly. She left the Elite parlour until last, as she had assumed in her own mind that it would have been a quiet affair with very little cost, perhaps even a pauper’s grave. These thoughts saddened her. But here she was at the Lady Florentine cemetery where she had spent the last week, as to her total amazement Tilly’s name was on the Elite parlour’s register. She asked the receptionist for burial details on Tilly, but as she was not on duty that day she couldn’t help, she could only tell her at what cemetery she was buried.

Unfortunately for Isobella, the sexton who looked after the cemetery was on holiday the very week that she needed him. He would have had a plan of the burial plots and who occupied them. But this inconvenience had upset Isobella’s plans, so she had to start at the top and work her way through. How inconsiderate of the sexton, she said out loud. But here she was looking the perfect picture, walking along the grass rows in her trademark high heels, not at all practical for a cemetery, but then Isobella had never been a practical-thinking person. As she was nearing the end of another row, she caught a glimpse of a lonely figure carrying a basket of flowers, heading towards a part of the cemetery that Isobella had not yet visited. She watched this person place the basket on the ground, then she knelt down and hugged the headstone, and within seconds she had gone. She was intrigued so when she finished her row she quickly made her way to where the basket lay. Isobella stared at the flowers, which looked like they had just been freshly picked from a cottage garden, then her eyes fixed on the headstone. It was beautiful, made of pink marble, and beyond all belief this is what confronted her:

Matilda (Tilly) Dunnage

God saw her footsteps had faltered and her heart had gotten weak.

So He touched her weary eyelids and said, Beloved, sleep.

Forever remembered

Rosie

Isobella fell to her knees in bewilderment. The tears welled up in her eyes and she tried to force them back, but flow they did. Here at last she had found Tilly not in a pauper’s grave, but resting under this beautiful headstone, one fit for royalty. Her name Tilly was in fact short for Matilda. But this was Isobella’s mother’s name, never in a hundred years would she have connected Tilly to Matilda. Although the two women shared the same name, their lives could not have been further apart. Isobella stood up and read the inscription over and over many times; the words were so beautiful they tugged at her heart. Who would have put them together and who was Rosie? Was she the lonely figure who left the basket of flowers? The search for Tilly’s final resting place was over but now new questions were left unanswered. Isobella kissed the headstone and promised to come back tomorrow. It had been an overwhelming day, but a good one. Her days were long and lonely, and to have a distraction away from her home dramas was a welcome relief. Tonight, she would sleep peacefully knowing someone loved Tilly and that she lay beneath such a beautiful landmark.

*

As she lay in bed, so many things were spinning around in her head. Who was Rosie? Who paid for such an elaborate headstone? Who put the beautiful words together for the inscription? This was not how Isobella imagined Tilly’s ending. With this, sleep overtook her …

The next morning Isobella bounced out of bed with a happy heart. Yesterday was uplifting, and she couldn’t wait to go back to the cemetery in the hope she would meet up with the mystery flower girl. She parked her Ferrari and made her way to Tilly’s gravesite; her headstone was the standout one in her row and Isobella was proud of this. She knelt down and reread the inscription trying to install it in her brain so she could remember it.

Meanwhile in the far distance near the chapel stood a man watching this beautifully dressed lady kneeling by a headstone. Did she belong to the powder-blue Ferrari parked in the carpark? He was intrigued. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, and as she stood up he noticed she was wearing high heels. This made him smile; how inappropriate to wear such footwear when visiting the cemetery. Perhaps it was an impromptu visit, he told himself. He continued watching her until he was disturbed by the phone ringing in his office, so he went in and answered it. This was the cemetery sexton, who had returned from his holiday. He couldn’t wait to go back outside and continue his birdwatching but she had flown the coop. The Ferrari had disappeared. Who was this striking lady? He decided to walk down to where he had seen her kneeling. How strange, he thought; he had often walked past this headstone and stopped and read the inscription. There was something about this plot he couldn’t put his finger on, but it gave him goose-bumps thus leaving him wondering what secrets it held. This was the second person who had visited this grave. He had often seen another young lady carrying a basket of flowers. She never lingered long, it was as if she was always in a hurry. He had tried to make conversation with her but she seemed shy and withdrawn. Now a new person had arrived on the scene; this one he really wanted to get to know. He would just have to wait and hope she came again. Each day as the sexton went about his duties, he kept looking out for this mystery woman. She had never left his mind and now he couldn’t wait to come to work, living in hope of her Ferrari gracing his carpark once again.

Today he noticed the young lady with her basket of flowers so he made his way over to where she lay the basket; perhaps she could enlighten him as to whom the other lady might be. Excuse me, miss, I am the cemetery sexton, I was wondering if you could help me. A lady came to this grave a couple of days ago, she knelt down and looked as if she was praying … she was beautifully dressed and drove a blue Ferrari. Do you know her? The young girl looked at the sexton as if in shock at what he had just said. I’m sorry but I didn’t think Tilly had any friends, especially not rich ones, and with this she scurried off. The sexton was left perplexed. Who was this young lady, who was Tilly and who was the beautiful stranger? Suddenly, life at the cemetery had spiced up a notch.

Nearly a week had passed when Isobella had a sudden urge to visit Tilly. She stopped off at a florist and asked them to arrange a bouquet of cottage flowers, remembering the young lady with the basket; perhaps they were Tilly’s favourites. Then she spotted a lovely glass ball. This was right up Tilly’s alley; it would grace the marble headstone with such elegance and with fond remembrance. I would like to buy this ball along with the flowers, said Isobella. She then drove to the cemetery. On arrival, from the back seat she gathered the ball and flowers and walked across to Tilly’s grave and lay them by her headstone. As she placed the ball a warm feeling overcame her. Had this replaced the cold shiver that used to creep down her spine, the one she felt when Tilly took her hand and led her into her booth? Was this because she was at peace now?

Isobella noticed that the basket of flowers had been recently replaced, as they were still fresh. The lonely figure must have been back. Who was she? She knelt and touched the headstone, then closed her eyes and repeated over and over again the inscription, hoping it would be imprinted in her mind. She talked out loud to Tilly asking, How did you know all the things you predicted were going to happen? How could she possibly have known? If only I could have seen you one last time, she sighed. When she opened her eyes, there was a strange man standing beside her. She stood up quickly feeling totally embarrassed and nearly losing her balance. He reached out to steady her and noticed she was still wearing her trademark high heels. Hardly cemetery footwear, he wanted to tell her, but it brought a smile. Oh, I’m sorry if I startled you, but I am the cemetery sexton. With this, Isobella slowly regained her composure and her thoughts. She was stuck for words not knowing how to explain herself. You are the second person to visit this grave. A young lady came yesterday with her usual basket of flowers, he commented. Do you know the other person, was it Rosie? asked Isobella. I’m sorry I can’t help you with that, I have tried to make conversation with her but she is very standoffish. She comes here at least once a week and is always on foot. She is very loyal. Thank you for that, said a disappointed Isobella. Can you tell me what days she usually visits? The sexton sensed her disappointment. I’m not sure, but next time I will ask her if she is Rosie, if that will help. Yes, that would be great, thank you, replied Isobella. He couldn’t take his eyes off her; she was one very attractive lady, one he would like to get to know better. Sorry for being nosy, but who is Tilly? inquired the sexton. Isobella thought for a moment before answering. Where would she start? It was a long story and she didn’t know this man well enough to disclose her many secrets. Tilly was a fortune teller in town, she explained. Oh, that might explain why when I pass here it is as if there is something going on. Do you think it could be her ghost? Perhaps not her ghost, smiled Isobella, more likely to be her spirit. With this they both laughed. The sexton was really taken with this stranger; he felt a connection with her, one which he could not explain.

The following Thursday morning Isobella drove to the cemetery. She wanted to be there before lunchtime hoping to catch the lonely figure. While she sat in her car facing the entrance, she found herself drifting off into in a daydream. This was broken by a knocking on the car window, and there stood the sexton. Isobella wound down the window. Hi, I have some information for you. The young lady is Rosie, she came yesterday. Tilly was her grandmother but she knew nothing about her. That was all I could coax out of her, but she did say she was coming back on Saturday morning. He could see this was happy news for the welcome stranger. Isobella climbed out of her car and walked around and shook his hand and thanked him for his help. She had brought a sandwich so made her way to Tilly’s grave and sat on the grass. This was where she was at peace. She could forget what was happening back in town, this was an escape. Things were swimming around in her head. Why didn’t Rosie know her grandmother? Why was her name the only one on the headstone? This puzzle would have to be solved before she left town.

The sexton stood and surveyed what was happening in one particular part of his cemetery. A lonely figure sitting elegantly on the grass among the headstones nibbling on a sandwich. This was a first ever, never had he encountered such a strange event with such a fascinating centrepiece. He felt drawn to her, his heart was beating fast and he was nothing more than just a bystander. He had not felt this happy in a long time, not since his wife walked out. He had held on to this bitterness far too long, and here was a breath of fresh air lifting him out of a dark fog. Would she even be interested in him? Was she married? More importantly, was she available?

Isobella talked away to Tilly trying to extract answers to all the mysteries that she took with her, to her final resting place. She told herself that she would just have to wait until Saturday, then hopefully all that was unanswered would be revealed. She was thankful that the sexton was able to help her; he seemed a nice enough man, although there was a little something that didn’t sit quite right with him. He certainly was not one that could steal her heart. It was still reeling from the past year and the hurt she had created then suffered from, all of course self-inflicted.

Saturday had arrived. Was Pandora’s box about to be unlocked? As she drove into the cemetery carpark, the sexton was waiting for her. She climbed out of her car and greeted him. I didn’t expect you to be here today, it is Saturday, you have the weekends off. Oh, I came in first thing in case the young lady arrived before you. He wished he had the courage to tell her the truth, that he just had to see her again. He invited her into his office, which was next door to the chapel, until Rosie arrived, as he could view the cemetery from there. He noticed Isobella was wearing her trademark high heels; he couldn’t hide his smile. Did she even own a pair of flat shoes? he asked himself. I don’t even know your name, he said. I’m sorry, how rude of me, I’m Isobella, and you are? Riley, he answered. He looked at her, and yes, her name certainly suited her; she was one very attractive lady, one that sent his heartbeat sky-high only to be lost among the clouds.

Then he spotted the lonely figure with her basket making her way to Tilly’s grave. Isobella thanked him and made her way down the row to meet her. Hello, are you Rosie? she asked. The lonely figure looked at Isobella with surprise. How do you know me, who are you? I’m Isobella, I knew Tilly but I never knew she had any family. Oh, you knew her, please tell me about her, I didn’t even know I had a grandmother, she sobbed. I received a letter asking me to come to a solicitor’s office, then they told me I had been left an inheritance by a Tilly Dunnage who was my grandmother. She left everything to me, it was a lot of money. I’m not allowed to tell my mother about the money; she wanted it to be our secret. What did she do? she asked. Your grandmother would have loved you. Tilly was a fortune teller, that is how I met her. I walked past her booth one day and it was the name that drew me back. Hanging from her booth was the sign ‘Tilly Dunnage, Fortune Teller’. She came out onto the street and took my hand, and led me into her booth, then told me my future. She was so right, I still can’t believe how she knew. Tilly was obviously very good in her chosen field. What did she look like? asked Rosie. I don’t know anything about her. She was a little old lady, her shoulders were very hunched and she had the darkest eyes I have ever seen, in fact you have inherited them. When I look at you, I see traces of Tilly, said Isobella. Rosie smiled, Tilly’s inheritance is at the solicitor’s. I chose the headstone because I wanted her to be remembered, then I made up the little verse. I paid for it with her money. The solicitor said she died of a heart attack. I come every week and bring her fresh flowers as no one knows she is buried here except me … and now you.

Never before had Isobella felt such a deep attachment to a lost soul, one with the kindest heart and who was harbouring a secret so deep, for someone so young. How old are you, Rosie? Please tell me about yourself, she asked. I am eighteen and live at home with my invalid mother. She relies on me to look after her. She never talked about her mother so I assumed she had died. I don’t even know my father, just what mother told me; he left when I was young. She is a bitter woman and has no friends, so my life is quite dull really. When I left school, mother needed me at home so I lost touch with my school friends.

Isobella looked at Rosie with disbelief. When she compared their two lives, and how she had abused those around her for all those years, there was a huge pang of regret. Rosie had a big heart even though her life up until this stage had been suppressed; she had never been given the chance to blossom. What are you going to do with your life, Rosie, do you have any plans? she asked. Now that I have some money it will be easier for me but not until mother leaves me. I haven’t even thought about a future. I will have no one, it is sad for me to go there. Rosie, I am planning to open my own fashion store and would like you to come and work for me, said Isobella. But I don’t know anything about clothes, I only have two dresses, she sighed. Isobella’s heart went out to her; she had never been given a chance to gain any confidence or even allowed the privilege to dream of a future. She wondered how much a lot of money was to Rosie, then to spend so much on Tilly’s headstone. This was a girl with a heart that stretched to the other side of the universe. Tilly would have been very proud of you, Rosie. She would not have expected you to spend so much of your inheritance on her, she was a simple being. Obviously, she wanted you to have a better life than she had. With this, Rosie came over and took Isobella’s hand. I like you, Isobella, thank you for telling me about Tilly. I have to go now, mother will be wondering where I have gone. I will come back next Saturday; promise me you will be here! Yes, Rosie, I will be here with a picnic and we will lunch with Tilly. With that, she picked up her basket and away she ran through the trees and was gone.

Overwhelmed with emotion, Isobella let the tears flow. This young lady grew up without any knowledge of her background; no siblings … and no father. Here were two people from different walks of life, alone together. Was it fate that brought them down this path, or did Tilly have a hand in uniting these two women? Was Rosie put here to teach Isobella that to have everything one desired and could afford, didn’t make her any happier than one who had nothing? Isobella’s heart was confined to