Read Online The Day of the Storm by Rosamunde Pilcher - Free Book Online Page A

this managing person. I had not come to Porthkerris for any other reason than to see Grenville Bayliss, and I had an uncomfortable feeling that if I once got involved with this man he would stick like a burr.
    I said, “No, not The Castle…” meaning to suggest some other, more modest establishment, but he cut me short.
    â€œThat’s great,” he said, with a grin. “Mrs Kernow of Fish Lane it is, and you won’t regret it.”
    My first impression of Porthkerris, in the dark and the gusty rain, was confused to say the least of it. The town was, on this unsalubrious evening, nearly empty of people; the deserted streets gleamed wetly with reflected light, and the gutters ran with water.
    At a great speed, we plunged down into a warren of baffling lanes and alleys, at one time emerging out on to the road which circled the harbour, only to turn back once more into the maze of cobbled roads and uneven, haphazard houses.
    We turned at last into a narrow street of grey terrace houses, with front doors opening flush on to the pavement.
    All was seemly and respectable. Lace curtains veiled windows, and there could be glimpsed statuettes of girls with dogs, or large green pots containing aspidistras.
    The car slowed at last and stopped.
    â€œWe’re here.” He switched off the engine, and I could hear the wind and, above its whine, the nearby sound of the sea. Great breakers thundered up on to the sand, and there was the long hiss of the retreating waves.
    He said, “You know, I don’t know your name.”
    â€œIt’s Rebecca Bayliss. And I don’t know yours.”
    â€œJoss Gardner … it’s short for Jocelyn, not Joseph.” With this useful bit of information he got out of the car and rang a bell in a door and, while waiting for an answer, went to retrieve my rucksack from underneath the tarpaulin. As he heaved it out, the door opened and he turned and was illuminated in a shaft of warm light which streamed from inside the house.
    â€œJoss!”
    â€œHallo, Mrs Kernow.”
    â€œWhat are you doing here?”
    â€œI’ve brought you a visitor. I said you were the best hotel in Porthkerris.”
    â€œOh, my soul, I don’t belong to take visitors at this time of the year. But come along in now, out of the rain, what weather isn’t it? Tom’s down at the Coastguard lodge, been some sort of a warning up from the Trevose way, but I don’t know, I haven’t heard no rockets…”
    Somehow we were all inside and the door shut and there was scarcely room for the three of us to stand in the narrow hall.
    â€œCome along in by the fire … it’s nice and warm, I’ll get you a cup of tea if you like…” We followed her into a tiny, cluttered, cosy parlour. She knelt to poke the fire to life and add more coal, and for the first time I was able to take a good look at her. I saw a small, bespectacled lady, quite elderly, wearing bedroom slippers and a pinafore over her good brown dress.
    â€œWe don’t really want tea,” he told her. “We just want to know if you can give Rebecca a bed—for a night or so.”
    She stood up from the fireplace. “Well, I don’t know…” She looked at me doubtfully, and what with my appearance and the dog-smelling coat I didn’t blame her for being doubtful.
    I started to open my mouth, but Joss sailed in before I could say a word. “She’s highly respectable and she won’t run away with the spoons. I’ll vouch for her.”
    â€œWell…” Mrs Kernow smiled. Her eyes were pretty, a very pale blue. “The room’s empty, so she may as well have it. But I can’t give her supper tonight, not expecting anybody, I haven’t anything in the house but a couple of little pasties.”
    â€œThat’s all right,” said Joss. “I’ll feed her.”
    I started to protest, but once again I was