Page 1 of A Found Family at the Cornish Country Hospital

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Isla had spent far too many hours researching how to mark her father’s sixtieth birthday in a creative way, but when even Google couldn’t come up with an answer, she had to accept defeat. After all, you could hardly hold a surprise party, or arrange a hot air balloon trip, for a man who’d been dead for more than five years.

The list of things suggested to commemorate the milestone birthday of someone who had passed away was easier to navigate. Visiting the grave had been top of the list, but she did that regularly anyway, and it didn’t seem nearly enough. One of the suggestions had been to go to a place her father had loved, but Nick Marlowe always insisted that nowhere could beat his beloved Cornwall. And, since Isla already lived in the same area where her father had been born, that also took visiting the place where he’d started his life off the list. And she already made a regular donation to the Huntington’s charity, the disease that had taken her father from her when Isla had been nowhere near ready to let him go.

She wasn’t sure she’d ever have been ready, but her mother’s decision to shield her from the rapid progression ofhis illness, while she was studying all hours in the final year of her degree, had made it even more shocking when the end had come. Isla’s student accommodation had only been half an hour away from home, but her mother had played down the doctors’ concerns about how quickly her father’s health seemed to be deteriorating. It was only when it had become clear that he wasn’t going to pull through this time, that Isla had finally been called to her father’s bedside. Her mother had said it was merciful that the final stages of his illness had been hastened by a bout of pneumonia he couldn’t recover from, because he’d have hated for them to have to watch him become someone else entirely. But Isla had felt robbed of so much and, even now, it was impossible to see any part of it as a blessing. When he’d been forced to give up work just after his fiftieth birthday, as the disease became more advanced, her father’s consultant had said he probably had ten to fifteen years left. Instead, he’d got four. And as much as everyone had tried to comfort the family by talking about how he’d been spared from losing any more of who he was, Isla had desperately wanted to hold on to whatever tiny part of him was still left, for as long as she possibly could.

‘Are you ready?’ Noah, the vicar at St Jude’s, gently touched her arm, startling her far more than it should have done. She’d been expecting him at any moment, but she’d been lost in her thoughts, back in those last days at her father’s bedside, when he hadn’t been able to speak, and she wasn’t sure he’d understood her when she’d told him how much she loved him, or even realised she was there. ‘I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump.’

Noah had been so kind since she’d contacted him with her request, and she hated the thought that he might feel even the tiniest bit responsible for how emotional she was being, so she shook her head. ‘I’ve been like this all week. It should have been such a milestone for Dad. All he ever wanted was to make it tosixty, to give him a chance of being able to walk me or my sister down the aisle, and maybe even see his first grandchild. Sixty wouldn’t quite have given him grandchildren, but he’d at least have known that Lexi was expecting the twins, and he’d have been able to be by her side when she married Josh. He always said his girls, Mum included, were his life, and he made so many sacrifices for us. I just wish he could have had a tiny bit longer, so he got to hold his grandchildren in his arms. Even if it was only once.’

She hadn’t meant to say all of that, but Noah’s kindness had opened up the floodgates more than once, and there wasn’t really anyone else she could talk to about just how much her father’s sixtieth birthday was affecting her. It had been obvious how guilty Isla’s mother, Clare, felt about not being able to come back to Cornwall to mark her late husband’s birthday. But with Lexi having had a number of complications in the first four months of her pregnancy, her mother didn’t feel able to leave Mount Dora, the small town in Florida where she’d grown up, and where the vast majority of Isla’s family now lived. Despite almost thirty years in the UK, Isla’s mother had told her that returning to her hometown had felt like the only way to save her sanity after losing her husband. Everywhere she looked in Cornwall reminded her of the man she’d loved, and it was just too painful. Lexi had been more than happy to accompany her and had met her husband Josh within six months of arriving. Clare had begged Isla to ‘come home’ to be with them, but despite how often she’d visited Mount Dora, and how beautiful it was, Cornwall was the only place that had ever felt like home. Even living in Truro, when she’d worked at the hospital there, had felt like a wrench. So getting a job at St Piran’s hospital, in the area of Cornwall where she’d been raised, had been a dream come true. She missed her mum and her sister terribly. But even if Cornwall hadn’t had a hold over her soul, she couldnever leave her grandparents. Her grandmother had already lost her only child, and Isla wasn’t sure she’d have been able to live with herself if she’d left Grandma Joy without any of her grandchildren either. But the truth was, Isla would have missed her grandparents every bit as much as they’d have missed her.

‘Your dad sounds like a wonderful man from everything you’ve told me.’ Even Noah’s tone was gentle, and when she’d first approached him with an idea about how to mark her father’s birthday, she’d got the sense that he’d also faced a difficult loss of his own at some time. There was just a level of empathy that could only come from understanding those emotions personally. ‘Are you ready?’

‘I think so.’ Isla put her hand in her pocket, checking for the twentieth time that the letter was still there.

‘I dug the hole this morning, and James from the garden centre delivered the tree about an hour ago, so everything’s ready if you’re sure you are?’

‘I want to get it done before my grandparents arrive.’ Isla turned and smiled at Noah, determined not to cry before they’d even planted the tree she’d bought in her father’s memory. He’d always loved the colours of autumn, and his favourite tree had been the mountain ash. When Isla had approached Noah about planting a tree in St Jude’s churchyard, where her father was buried, he’d been really enthusiastic about the idea, especially after a storm the previous winter meant he’d been forced to take the decision to have a couple of the mature trees cut down. What had taken Isla longer to ask, was whether Noah would be okay with her putting a letter to her father in amongst the roots of the tree when they planted it. Somehow saying it out loud felt ridiculous, even though she’d loved the idea when she’d come across it online. Isla wasn’t sure she believed the words would ever reach her father, but she’d needed to write them all the same. To tell him everything that had happened since he’d died,and to thank him once again for making the unselfish decision he had, so that his children never had to face discovering whether or not they had the Huntington’s gene he’d inherited from his own father. Nick had discovered he was positive for the gene back in the early nineties, in the year testing had first become available. And when he’d learnt there was a fifty-fifty chance that he’d pass it on to his children, it was a risk he just wasn’t prepared to take. Just a year later, Clare had given birth to their first daughter, with the help of a sperm donor. Four years after that, Isla had arrived. Her parents had got their longed-for children, and they weretheirchildren, wholly and completely, regardless of where half of their DNA had come from.

When Isla had finally found the courage to ask Noah about the letter, he’d told her he thought it was a wonderful idea, which had helped more than he’d ever know. It didn’t seem silly any more, and it made it easier for her to believe that her father would finally hear the things she’d tried saying to him in the last days of his life. She’d spoken to her mother and grandmother about a lot of the things in the letter, but Isla wouldn’t have wanted anyone else to read the whole thing. Some of the words were for her father alone.

‘Okay, it’s just up the path. I chose the empty spot that has a view of the sea. I know you said your father loved being on the water.’

‘He did, and Nan always used to joke that he should have been born with webbed feet.’ For a moment, Isla had to swallow hard against the tears that had been threatening all day. If only her father had been born with something as easy to live with as that, instead of the genetic timebomb that was Huntington’s disease. But this wasn’t a moment for dwelling on could haves. Planting a tree that might easily live for four or five hundredyears was part of the legacy she wanted to create to mark her beloved father’s sixtieth birthday.

There was something else she wanted to do, but she hadn’t spoken to anyone about that yet. Not even Noah’s kind disposition was enough for her to feel able to confide in him. She had other people she needed to talk to first, and she had no idea how they were going to react. Although she had a horrible feeling they might not like it.

Between Isla and Noah, they’d managed to lift the eight-foot pot-grown mountain ash into the hole Noah had dug, and she pushed the letter under the root ball, before they filled in the hole. April showers had threatened all day, and it had been overcast until the moment she’d let go of the letter, and then the sun had come out. It was just a coincidence, but that didn’t stop Isla feeling happier than she had in days as the sun warmed her skin. It was the closest thing she’d ever get to a hug from her father, and it meant she was ready to face her grandparents when they arrived to visited their son’s grave.

‘Hello my love, you’re still looking far too thin.’ Isla’s grandmother enveloped her in an embrace that smelt of Lily of the Valley and Deep Heat. They were Joy’s signature scents when she was suffering from the back pain that was the result of a slipped disc more than twenty-five years before. It was quite the combination, but it was strangely comforting to Isla.

‘I weigh exactly the same as I have for the last three years.’ Isla shrugged. The number of steps she took every day at work meant she could still fit into a size twelve, despite a passion for biscuits that bordered on an obsession. But she definitely wasn’t in any danger of fading away.

‘I just worry about you, that’s all.’ Joy narrowed her eyes as she looked at her granddaughter. ‘Although you look really happy, almost glowing. Have you met someone?’

‘No Nan, I haven’t.’ Isla laughed again. It was the same question her grandmother asked her every time they met, her voice full of hope that this might be the time when the answer would finally be yes. As far as Joy was concerned, a happy relationship was all she wanted for her granddaughter. Isla was pretty sure she knew what was at the root of it. Her sister Lexi meeting Josh meant there was no chance of her returning to Cornwall, and Joy was probably hoping that the reverse might be true for her youngest granddaughter. Isla could understand her grandmother’s logic, but partner or no partner, she had absolutely no intention of leaving Cornwall. ‘I just had a moment, when I felt as though Dad wasreallyhere, and that makes me happier than anything else.’

‘I love it so much when I get moments like that.’ Joy put an arm around her granddaughter’s waist. ‘Me and Grandpa are always smelling your dad’s favourite aftershave around the house, aren’t we, love?’

Her grandmother turned towards her husband, who nodded. They were the kind of couple who still held hands, almost twenty-five years after they’d got married. Grandpa Bill was her grandmother’s second husband, but Isla couldn’t remember a time before him, because she’d only been eighteen months old at their wedding. Joy’s first husband had died of Huntington’s disease five years before that. From what Isla’s father had told her, his parents had been devoted to one another before the illness took him bit by bit, so Joy hadn’t just found true love once, but twice over. It was no wonder she saw it as the most important thing in life.

‘There’s a robin who comes into the garden, every time I’m out there working too. And I’m sure that’s Nicky.’ Bill’s tonedared anyone to try and tell him that wasn’t the case. He’d come into his stepson’s life when Isla’s father had been in his early thirties, but they’d always had a close bond, and Joy and Bill had both called him Nicky. He’d been an only child and Bill had never had any children of his own, which meant their lives had revolved around their son and his family. Losing him had hit them incredibly hard and, when the rest of the family had moved to Florida, Isla had become even more aware of being the light in their lives. They worried about her all the time, calling to make sure she’d got home from work okay if it was raining hard, or God forbid, on the odd occasion it snowed. They were so proud of every tiny thing she achieved too, and Joy told everyone she met about her granddaughter ‘the nurse’.

‘I’m sure he visits Clare and Lexi in Florida too, although that’s a lot of flying for a little robin.’ Joy winked at her granddaughter. There was no bitterness in her voice, even though it must have broken her heart when half her family moved over four thousand miles away.

‘What time did you arrange to do the video call?’ Isla glanced at her watch. It was almost 7p.m. and the light was changing to a honey-coloured glow, as the sun slowly began to dip lower in the sky. It wouldn’t set for more than an hour, but the day was clearly on its way out and her father’s sixtieth birthday would soon be over.

‘Half seven our time, and one-thirty for them. I thought dinner for us and lunch time for your mum and Lexi was the best plan; I just needed to be here for six fifty-five. It’s when Nicky arrived in the world.’ Joy was explaining it to Isla like she’d never heard the story before, but her grandmother had relived every detail of her father’s birth on numerous occasions, everything from it lasting for twenty hours, to the fact that the midwife’s name had been Barbara Nicholas, and she’d refused to leave Joy’s side until her son was safely delivered. ‘I’ve goteverything ready to go. All your dad’s favourite foods, and your mum’s made the same for them.’

‘Dad would have loved the idea of us all getting together, even if we are on opposite sides of the Atlantic.’ The lump was back in Isla’s throat. Technology made it much easier to see her mother and sister, even if it wasn’t in the flesh, and it had also allowed her to be there for the big moments of Lexi’s pregnancy, like when the sonographer had confirmed, just the week before, that she was expecting one daughter and one son. But it wasn’t the same as them all being together, and right now it seemed like a lifetime until they would all be together again. Isla had booked three weeks off work and bought the tickets to fly out with her grandparents a week after Lexi’s due date. They’d talked about going earlier, because there was a good chance she might give birth sooner than expected with twins, but Lexi would need time to bond with her own little family too. Life was moving on for Isla’s big sister, and she was incredibly happy for her, but sometimes the changes in Lexi’s life made the gulf between them feel far bigger than the number of miles that separated them.

Isla didn’t speak again until a few minutes after they’d reached her father’s grave, waiting until her grandmother had had the chance to whisper the words she needed to say to her son at the very moment he’d been born. ‘When Dad arrived, did you love him instantly, or did it take a while to feel that way?’

She stopped breathing as she waited for her grandmother to answer. What Joy said next could change Isla’s life. ‘I would have done anything to protect him. I felt that from the moment I set eyes on him and the truth is that love grew a hundred-fold over time.’

‘Joy, long time no see!’ A woman of a similar age to Isla’s grandmother bustled up the path towards them, not seeming to take in the fact that they were standing by a grave. If she had noticed, it clearly wasn’t going to put her off her stride.‘It must have been ten years since I last saw you, mustn’t it? I moved back to Port Agnes a few months ago, to be closer to my grandchildren, and I decided to join the bell ringing group. We practise every Wednesday at seven-thirty, and I offered to open up this week. I might be eighty-two on my next birthday, but I’m determined to stay active.’ The woman barely seemed to pause for breath, but Isla’s grandmother eventually got the chance to respond.

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