The Mystery Of Macgregor’s Cove – Episode 27

Cast of characters dressed in 18th Century clothing stand in front of white cottage

“I’ve dinner to make and you’ve ditching to get back to.” 

Ethel and Sandy stood facing one another across the kitchen. 

Stiff-backed, her gaze steady and without saying a word, Ethel had heard him disclose that Kit was his son. Now you could hear a pin drop. 

Turning and striding into the pantry, she began gathering carrots, parsnips, potatoes and onions. 

Only when Ethel felt the draught of air and heard the garden door shutting as he went outside did she emerge with the trug of vegetables across her arm. 

Sitting upon the hearth stool, she began peeling. 

*  *  *  * 

“That’s a lazy wind,” Great-aunt Macgregor began, letting herself in and immediately breaking off at sight of Ethel. 

She was at the fireside; a half-peeled potato in her motionless hands. 

Head bowed, Ethel sat staring unseeing into the glowing logs. Her whole world and all she held dear had fallen down about her. 

“Whatever is wrong?” Mathilda hurried to her side, resting a hand upon Ethel’s shoulder. 

While Mathilda busied herself brewing a pot of camomile and honey tea, Ethel confided everything Sandy had told her. 

“As you know, he and I weren’t young when we met,” Ethel reflected, sipping the hot, soothing tea cupped within her cold hands. “It was a good while later we started walking out. Longer still before he asked me to wed. 

“I was too old for fanciful lovey-dovey notions,” Ethel went on. “But I believed we had a blessed marriage. Yet every day he’s kept the truth from me. 

“All these years, I’ve been second-best to Marietta – and she’s given Sandy a son.” 

Abigail Phillips

Abbie is the newest member of the fiction team at the "Friend." She loves how varied the role is - every day is different and there is always a new story to read. She is keen to work closely with established writers and discover new writers, too.