The Particular Appeal of Gillian Pugsley by Susan Örnbratt

Author:Susan Örnbratt
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance;Isle of Man;Ireland;Canada;Fiction;Women's Fiction;Historical Fiction;FIC014000;FIC027200;FIC044000;Susan Örnbratt
Publisher: Light Messages
Published: 2015-03-23T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11 - 2003

I used to long for riches

The key—or so I thought –

To all the things the world has got,

To smooth life’s tortuous road.

But passing time has proved to me,

The things I value most,

Are yours, or mine and have no price,

Though priceless in their worth.

A kiss of love, the smile of a friend,

The clouds are silver lined.

And whether to castle or cottage they come,

Each brings something no riches can buy.

Chapter 11

2003

Saturday morning is proving to be optimistic here at the farm. I woke up after all and that’s something poor old Angus couldn’t do the morning I found him next to me, motionless. He hadn’t even twitched in his sleep, but it was his time and I was grateful he hadn’t suffered the way I’ve been. Quite frankly, I’m pleased I have another day. I refuse to let damp socks ruin the attire.

Though the doctors may well be annoyed with me, insisting that I reconsider at once being admitted sooner than later, that remains their problem. As a matter of fact, I think I’ve stumped them that I’m not already packed and shipped away to the heavens. Granted, I refuse to leave this world being told what to do in my final hours; I will dawdle as much as possible. I know it’s only a matter of days before I must say good-bye to this lovely horse farm forever, but until they drag me away, I want to feel the countryside in me. If that means falling dead in the neighbor’s cornfield, causing a swarm of locusts in the flat cold of late November, gnawing on me till there’s nothing left, then so be it. At least I will have left this world in the open air.

“Grandma?” A tapping at the door pleases me. I always like to have a bit of company. “May I come in?”

“Yes, of course,” I say, trying to turn up the volume, but I’m afraid low is the only setting I have these days. Gilly pokes her head in, looking concerned that she’s taken me from sleep. “Don’t worry, dear, you didn’t wake me.”

“Kate said you were napping, but I really wanted to talk to you.”

“About your book?” I ask curiously.

“Well …” she says as her eyes turn away from me, “maybe, but not now. Actually, I wanted to take you somewhere.”

“That’s getting more difficult, I’m afraid, and I’d like to avoid a stroll through the cornfield across the road.”

Gilly’s brow pinches together. “There’s no corn this time of year, Grandma,” she says patting my hand as though I’ve lost my mind.

“Where do you want to take me then?”

“That’s a surprise,” she smiles with a naughty gleam. I can see it in her eyes even behind those dark rims. “You don’t need to worry about anything. If you’re going to the hospital soon, there’s no way I’m going to let this opportunity pass.”

Opportunity? I’ve always loved that juncture somewhere between surprise and freedom, and goodness knows opportunity is freedom.

“Well, you don’t need to twist my arm.

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