Morwena and Vernon take the long walk of contemplation!

As Morwena and Vernon walked back from Pengelly hill,the home of Bill and Gwen Penhaligan,their minds and emotions seemed to be in a state of flux.Morwena had the image of Newlyn quay etched on her mind with a diamond stylus.She knew his style,his use of the light,and the sheer life that he was able to bring to that scene .His picture was just bursting with life,the life of the cruel sea,yet the sea that could feed those who were brave enough to capture its riches.As she contemplated this,her thoughts centred on Pierre and wether she could find a way of seeing him at St Ives.These mental excursions threw up their own obstacles though,and Morwena was aware of the risks to her reputation if word got out that she was speaking to him.In the close knit community where she lived,if would be a real challenge to achieve a meeting with Pierre without repercussions for her,and worse still,for Pierre.

As she meditated on her options,she became aware of Vernon appearing to stumble over a raised cobble.Try as she might,Morwena could only break his fall.Vernon had hit the ground and had appeared to lose consciousness.Morwena remained calm and tried to revive him but he remained lifeless,listless,dead to the world to her at least.As she endeavoured to cajole him into life by talking to him,she realised that he was now showing signs of acute breathing problems.As she was near Ivor He wood,she decided to raise the alarm at their cottage.At first,there was no response to her calls,but as she increased the volume of her calls,Dorothy Henwood came to the door.Dorothy accompanied Morwena to where Vernon was ,and as she saw him,alarms bells were ringing for her too.Dot Henwood managed to ply Vernon with smelling salts,and upon smelling the Brandy on Bernon’s breathe,she implied that Vernon couldn’t take his drink,and should be confined to the barn at the end of the terrace.Dot knew what drink could do,and she didn’t mince her words.Somehow,Morwena felt a sense of humanity from Vernon.She rather liked the fact that Vernon was mortal,and not perfect as he liked to portray himself.

Morwena thought it a bit mean to leave Vernon in the barn,but Dot wasn’t a lady to be argued with,and she promised that she would check on Vernon during the night too.Morwena didn’t want to be escorted home,as she was happy in her own company.She walked the remaining mile or so home cradled in the emotional blanket of Pierre,and the quay at Newlyn,and of her efforts to see him at St Ives.As she hadn’t thought about the details too much,these thoughts were in the form of sound bites.Morwena knew that she herself had broken off with Pierre.She had been quite mean to him,and had said that she never really loved him,and that he was “a dreamer,and not steady”.Of course,that was said in the heat of the moment,those moments we all have,and it was only a few days after the tragic death of her beloved Pa.Morwena had mulled over those words literally hundreds of times,and had bitterly regretted them.Morwena couldn’t let things remain as they were,she had to try at least to reach out and apologise to Pierre.She knew that she had to think about how to go about this.It wasn’t easy for her to explain,and it definitely wouldn’t be easy to tell him that he had been the father of her dead son.As she began to walk slowly to the entrance of her cottage,she felt the cruel twist of fate on her.She was convinced that Pierre had been the father of her son,but even that was enough for her to be branded as a cheap hussey.Morwena wept herself to sleep,but not because of Vernons,no because of her son and his father.


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