‘I’m looking at it. What’s that place over there, Zac?’ Melody asked.
‘That’s Elizabeth Castle. You can visit it if you like because it’s open to the public.’
Patsy laughed. ‘It’s surrounded by sea. I can’t picture myself swimming there and would need to find someone with a boat to get there.’
‘Ahh, but that’s not necessary,’ he explained. ‘There’s the Castle Ferry, an amphibious vehicle that looks like a misshapen tank – or maybe a truck – that takes visitors there and back. They’re known locally as Ducks. You can also walk along the causeway when the tide is out.’
‘Sounds fascinating,’ Melody said, hoping she would be able to see the causeway at some point. ‘I presume it has quite a bit of history to it, like the castle in Gorey that we struggle to pronounce the name for.’
‘That one is Mont Orgueil, but the locals sometimes refer to it as Gorey Castle, so you can always call it that instead.’
She listened as he explained that the islet they were looking at was a fifteen-acre Elizabethan fortress.
‘It dates back to when Sir Walter Raleigh was the governor of Jersey. Did you know that King Charles II was given refuge here during the English Civil War? To say thank you, he gave the island a huge area of land in America.’
‘Really?’ Patsy gasped.
‘Where?’ she asked, intrigued.
‘Have a guess.’
She thought about it as he continued driving.
‘This bay is St Aubin’s Bay by the way,’ he said. ‘Hollyhock Farm is in St Ouen, on the north-west of the island. It shouldonly take us another fifteen minutes to get there because there’s not too much traffic at this time of the day.’
He indicated the hamburger stall at the end of the avenue and laughed. ‘That’s where me and my mates spent many evenings as teenagers eating burgers and chatting before catching buses home.’
She liked hearing about local life on the island, wanting to absorb the sense of what it really felt like to live there.
‘Sorry, I never answered your question about the land in the States, did I?’ The car slowed as the two lines of traffic filtered into one. ‘Any thoughts on where it could be?’
She thought for a moment and, when Patsy didn’t say anything, Melody answered. ‘I have one suggestion, but it seems too obvious to be right.’
‘Give it a go.’ He smiled at her in the rear-view mirror. ‘Go on.’
‘I don’t suppose it’s New Jersey, is it?’
‘It is.’
‘No way. That’s amazing. And all because the king was allowed to come here.’
‘Yes. You see, being welcoming is something that’s in our blood. It’s nothing new to us locals.’
Melody laughed. ‘It must be.’
‘Have you never wanted to leave here?’ Patsy asked. ‘Or maybe you haven’t always lived on the island?’
‘I worked away until fairly recently, as did Lettie. She was in London working in fashion and I worked all over the place. I’m a sound engineer by trade.’
‘Sounds fascinating.’ Melody liked that Zac and his sister gave up everything to step in and help keep the family home and business.
‘It can be. I’ve enjoyed my work and being based in London for the past few years, but there comes a time when family needsto come first and this was that time for me. I will have to think about returning to do a few contracts soon though, otherwise they’ll forget who I am. How about you?’
‘I’ve done all sorts of things. My mother was a homeopathic practitioner, and I learnt a lot from her, but branched out into other areas, like crystal therapy, colour therapy and aromatherapy, until I began training as a yoga instructor and that’s how I mostly earn my living. Gran has always been one to try out new things and I think our interest comes from her initially.’
Patsy laughed. ‘Her mother has always blamed me for making her eat what I grew when she was young.’
Melody recalled many amusing conversations when her mother teased her gran about her childhood. ‘I think she was more bothered that you always insisted on making all her clothes, Gran.’
