Behind Glasson Doors
Chapter 1
It was coming to the end of a warm, summer's day in Portwenn and a slight, petite ten year old was wondering the streets looking for somebody. There was not a soul in sight and she could feel the sun burning the back of her neck and it felt as hot as a desert wind. After a full day in school, she was tired and hungry. The plaits in her hair were ropey and her feet felt as heavy as lead. The light began to get dimmer so she headed home. There was a muffled roar as she wondered past the pub but she had already looked in there. Her home was just the same as when she returned from school, empty and quiet. There was no note left for her today- strange. She picked up a knitted blanket and retired to bed. She lay there listening to the waves, waiting until her father came home. This little girl was of course, Louisa Roberta Glasson.
Louisa still felt ten years old at this moment in time, laying in bed listening to the waves. A raft of emotion came with this memory and the tears ran down her face in a similar trail as would a lazy river. She gave in and went downstairs where her chair and cold cup of tea sat from just a few hours earlier. As she sat, she stared out of her cottage's glass doors. Watching the sea, she sometimes wondered if it reflected her own emotions and thoughts. It had been a sort of friend to her, the sea. From the day she was born, it was always there, always by her side. The tide would come in and back out again. In and out, like clockwork, consistent. Sometimes, it was the only consistency present in her life. Louisa walked closer to the doors to get a better view of the village. Her village. Although there was only the glow of street lamps and the dark blue outline of houses to see at 4.25am, it was flooded with memories for Louisa. Every summer's morning before school, Louisa would make her way down to the Platt, saying 'Hello' to the same faces which usually included Bert and Joan and back then, a very fashionable Sally Tishell. In her pleated skirt and patent shoes, she would throw a few pebbles into the sea before making her way back up the hill to get to school. No matter what age, Louisa had always loved the sea air and would always put a bounce back in her stride. However, it now felt as though all of this was being dragged away from her and it was still very surreal.
Louisa sighed. It had been only four days since she and Martin decided not to marry. Everyday since had been a constant battle of anxiety. The fluster she may get into if she bumped into him in the street. The questions she knew they village gossipers had on their lips, without them even saying a word. It was all too much so in exactly four hours, Louisa would be leaving for good. Her new home was London, even if the thought alone did make her feel nauseous. She sat back down. She wondered if anything, ever would heal her broken heart.
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