Spotlight on "At Maunston Quay"
Life weaves its magic of triumphs and disappointments everywhere, and often those burdened with more than their fair share of tragedy can feel lost and alone.
Even in a quiet coastal backwater such as Maunston Quay, people like Lewis Airy struggle with their personal tragedies and grief. And when Anna arrives, evidently trying to come to terms with the cruel twist life has dealt her, she seems at first yet another individual to have found herself washed-up in the village.
But Anna proves to be more than that, and not only for herself.
Against all the odds, perhaps Maunston Quay is the kind of place to offer the second chances that give hope to everyone.
“My new year started with reading Ian’s novel, At Maunston Quay, and it was perfect. I had forgotten that for the last two years I have bounced between quarantined home life and fitful re-entries into social settings. Ian’s book grounded me with slow, gentle reminders that our connections with ourselves, our environment, and each other can heal in miraculous ways. Ian, thank you for this gift! You made me cry on the subway!” – from a US reader
Excerpt from Chapter Two.
"There you are," says a woman’s voice, the tone suggesting he had been expected all along and was actually at fault for being a little late.
"Here I am," says Lewis, smiling at Shirley as she approaches him. She is wearing a bright blue and white stripped apron, one of a considerable range of aprons in her possession. It is, in effect, her ‘uniform’. She has confessed on more than one occasion not to need to wear anything approximating to clothing protection, but regards the putting on and taking off of an apron as signifying the transition into and out off work mode.
"You’ve come for your shopping then?" she says unnecessarily, and then checks a list she has secured just under the corner of the till. "Seventeen pounds forty."
"And how are you today, Shirley?" he asks playfully, teasing her at the lack of polite greeting and the immediate demand for money.
"The same as you would expect me to be," she replies. "I’d be better if I didn’t have to work with that idiot brother of mine - but then you know that anyway."
When he doesn’t reply, busy with his wallet, she carries on.
"Is there anything else, otherwise I’ll just go and get your bags."
Lewis looks back at her.
"One thing. Has the holiday cottage been let?"
Shirley’s left eyebrow lifts a little.
"Why do you ask?"
"Because I just saw someone getting off the train. I think they were heading that way. Either that or Bradley has a secret woman!"
"Secret woman, indeed!" She laughs a little too guardedly Lewis thinks, but he has only known her for a small number of years, and Shirley - as with so many people who have spent their lives in relatively rural settings - can take a while to unravel.
"Yes, that’s what I thought too."
At this she laughs a little more heartily. Lewis feels he has re-proven himself as a ‘local’. It is a little game he has to play with them all from time to time.
"Well, yes, it has been let as a matter of fact." She weighs up how much she should tell him. "The lady - assuming you saw the right person - is called Anna Woolley. Booked the cottage early last week, actually."
"Oh? For how long?"
"Well, that’s the strange thing; indefinitely, I suppose.”
"Indefinitely?"
"She’s paid for three weeks up front and asked for first refusal on the time after that. Of course, I told the Johnsons that was a little unusual, but they said considering they were hardly able to let it anyway, any money was better than none, so I should just go ahead."
"They were right there," Lewis concurs.
"Where?"
"About some money being better than none."
Shirley extends her hand.
"Talking of money…"
Lewis hands over twenty pounds which Shirley takes, rings up the seventeen forty in the till, then fishes out his change.
"Are you going straight home?" she asks.
"Yes. Why?"
"Well, you can do me a favour." She begins to walk away from the counter, speaking to him over her shoulder. "You can deliver some groceries to our Ms. Woolley for me. It’s only a couple of bags. Staples, mainly. She ordered and paid for those in advance too."
Before Lewis can object, she has disappeared out the back of the shop. As he waits, he wonders whether he would really have wanted to object anyway. If this new woman is going to be a neighbour - even for a short while - it would make sense to start out on the right kind of footing with her.
Shirley returns with three carrier bags which she hands to him.
“These are yours,” she says. "I’ll get the other two."
"I’ll put these in the car," he says.
Outside he opens the boot of his unlocked car, and places his shopping to one side. Having done so, he pushes his walking boots and waterproof jacket slightly further to the back to ensure he has sufficient space for the additional two bags.
Inside, Shirley waits for him, extra bags at her feet.
"What’s she like?" she asks.
"The new woman?"
Shirley nods.
"I don’t know. I didn’t see her very clearly. Or at all, really. All I know is that she has a red coat and a blue suitcase."
"Not much to go on," Shirley confirms. "Anyway, she sounded nice enough on the phone. Said she’d been looking for some peace and quiet - and, of course, I told her she’d get nothing but that here!"
Lewis picks up the two remaining bags. As he turns, he says "I’ll keep you posted, shall I?"
"You’d better!" she replies.