by Nicola May
‘Yes, but it looks like I may have had the day’s takings stolen from the shop earlier. I don’t want to discuss it now, if you don’t mind, as my head is all over the place and I’m tired. I might be wrong – I hope I am.’
‘Ah, right. Are you sure you’re feeling all right though?’ Alec was concerned.
‘I’m fine, honestly.’
‘And don’t forget you’ve got that snazzy CCTV system.’
‘Oh yes – you’re right!’ Worried for their safety after a fire was started deliberately in the shop, Josh had gone security-crazy and insisted they install the best equipment on the market. It was so discreet and well-hidden that Rosa had forgotten it was there.
Just as they started to head up the hill, a stranger approached them. He was a very upright, white-haired man in his mid-fifties, wearing a long black coat and sucking on an ornate Meerschaum pipe. He could have stepped straight out of a horror film, with his debonair good looks and somewhat spooky appearance.
‘Excuse me and sorry to bother you folks but I missed the show, did I?’ His voice was soft, almost hypnotic.
‘Yes, the annual excitement for Cockleberry Bay is over,’ Alec said in a dead-pan voice.
‘Damn. I was looking for someone too. He always did love the fireworks, you see. I thought it would be a definite.’
‘Oh, what is his name? We may know him, as this is a small place,’ Rosa replied politely.
‘It’s Nathanial, Nathanial Webb.’
‘Er, we do know a Nate,’ Sara chipped in.
‘Webb, you say?’ Rosa suddenly felt sick.
‘That’s him, he always did like to shorten it, much to his mother’s dismay.’ He then looked directly at Rosa. ‘He’s got curly dark brown locks, just like yours, in fact.’ He stared at Rosa for what felt like a minute, but was probably only seconds.
For some strange reason Rosa, again, instinctively wanted to protect the long-haired loner. She said, ‘I don’t have his number, but he quite often comes into my shop. Should I take your number, and then when I see him, I can ask him to call you, maybe?’
‘Great idea. Here’s my card.’
Rosa looked at it. Christopher Webb, Webb & Sons, Funeral Directors.
‘Ah, I see. You must be family then?’ Rosa’s voice shook slightly.
‘You’re a bright spark, aren’t you, young lady?’ The silver fox tapped the contents of his pipe into his palm, then, looking at her intently again, said, ‘Yes. Nathaniel is my son.’
CHAPTER 39
Lucas had insisted that he sat in with Rosa while she was being interviewed by DC Clarke. Knowing full well that she wouldn’t be capable of pushing anyone down a flight of stairs, he was here to protect her, as well as learn why the police were insinuating such things.
‘If she’s tried to murder my old woman, I want to hear it straight up,’ he imparted with a completely straight face, much to Rosa’s annoyance.
‘That’s enough now, son. You’re not on CSI. Sit quietly or sit outside, please.’
Did this man not have any kind of empathy? Rosa thought. Poor Lucas hadn’t even buried his mother yet, and here was Poirot having a go at him.
The DC sniffed, then added, ‘Rosa, you’ve gone very pale.’
With that the pregnant girl, splaying her fingers over her mouth and forming the muffled sounds of ‘Where’s the Ladies?’ ran as fast as she could to the door. As light suddenly dawned, a big lump of emotion filled Luke’s throat like a stone. He coughed loudly in an attempt to shift it without bursting into tears.
DC Clarke, oblivious as ever, busied himself with the reams of paperwork in front of him, while the blonde young woman police officer tried hard not to look the handsome plumber in his tight indigo jeans and black hoody up and down.
‘How are you feeling?’ The detective smiled kindly on Rosa’s return, as she held a tissue to her mouth.
‘Dodgy burger last night, I reckon. I’m so sorry.’ She sat down. The WPC handed her a fresh glass of water and gave her a friendly, knowing nod.
‘Are you sure you want to carry on, Rosa?’ Luke put his arm gently on hers.
‘Yeah, let’s just get this over and done with, shall we?’
DC Clarke tapped a pencil annoyingly against his phone. ‘Very well, we’ll make a start.’ He took a mouthful of coffee and smacked his lips. ‘So, Rosa Smith of the Corner Shop in Cockleberry Bay, I want you to tell me your movements from the very beginning to the very end of October the thirty-first of this year.’
CHAPTER 40
The small, ancient church with its stained-glass windows was packed right to the last pew. Sheila Hannafore may have made a few enemies, but her pub had been the main drinking-hole for centuries and a local haunt for most of the mourners here today. The formidable woman had certainly known how to run a tight Ship! And that was blatantly obvious from the turnout today.
Rosa was so happy that her mum had agreed to accompany her, as she didn’t think she could have faced it on her own. Mary hadn’t had a proper chance to catch up with her daughter yet, as the hospital had decided to keep her in longer than expected. Her breathing did seem much better than before though, so as much as it had irked her to be away from home, she had been grateful for the intervention.
Tom Hannafore stood up, his eyes red from crying. Although Tom stood taller and dressed older than Lucas, you could tell they were brothers. Peering through the mourners to the front of the church, Rosa could see half of Lucas, and that his arm was linked into that of a woman. Rosa could only assume it was an auntie, as she had the same bright white hair as his mother had had.
Lucas had been worryingly quiet, almost mute on the way back from the police station the other day. Not surprising really, on discovering that his mother had tried to take her own life to make his and his brother’s lives easier. But at least the ‘secret’ was out now. And thankfully, while they were sitting there, DC Clarke had relayed the confirmation from the pathologist that the deceased’s injuries could have been caused by an intentional jump and not a push, which was something the police hadn’t even considered. They just knew it couldn’t have been an accident.
Rosa’s great-grandmother Queenie’s words echoed in her head, asking: ‘Is it necessary? Is it kind?’ A moral dilemma arose as to whether Rosa should mention that she had heard music in the pub, thereby insinuating that someone else had been there at the time of Sheila’s fall. After thinking long and hard, she had concluded that revealing this information would not benefit anyone, especially Lucas. And thinking of her pregnant self, not her and the child either.
Anyway, if Nate had been at the scene, then surely Sheila would have said something. Rosa’s judgement of people – excluding that creep, Joe Fox – had always been spot on, so it was that same judgement which had allowed her to make the final decision. She would say nothing further. Nate Webb was a vagabond, not a murderer. And whatever else had gone on within the walls of the Ship Inn that night could now be buried along with its feisty landlady.
Tom Hannafore cleared his throat and tugged at his black tie before beginning to speak. ‘I’d firstly like to thank you all for coming. It means a lot to my family to see such a big group of friendly faces. To all of you, Sheila Hannafore was Good Old Sheila from the Ship Inn, a fine publican as I know most of you would agree.’
‘Hear hear!’ reverberated around the still church. His voice softened. ‘But to me and Lucas, well, she was our mum.’ He took a deep breath. ‘We may not all be blessed with fortune, but what every single one of us does share is both time,’ he paused for effect, ‘and love. So, before we all head down to the Ship, where we would like to give Sheila a good send-off, please listen and take in these beautiful words from the poet Henry Van Dyke.’
Holding back her own tears, Rosa grasped her mother’s hand as Tom bravely began his short recital.
‘Time is too slow for those who wait
Too swift for those who fear
Too long for those who grieve
Too short for those who rejoice
But for those who love,
Time is an eternity.’
He held an imaginary glass upwards and catching Luke’s eye, finished with, ‘Cheers, mum, gran, cousin, sister. Sheila, we will love you forever.’
CHAPTER 41
Titch was sitting up waiting for Ritchie to come home to her mum’s bungalow from his evening shift at the chippie. As soon as she heard the key in the door, she went through to the kitchen and put the kettle on.
‘Hello, my fishy fiancé, smelling gorgeous as usual.’ She rushed up to him and stood on tiptoe to kiss him.
‘How’s my beautiful girl this evening – and am I to assume that our little man behaved himself?’
‘I’m fine, ta, and your son was remarkably asleep by seven-thirty too. So, I got to watch some of the TV that I’ve been wanting to catch up on. Do you fancy a drink, something to eat?’ Titch offered.
‘I could do with a beer actually.’ Ritchie stuck his face in the fridge and fished out a cold can. ‘I’ve been on with Mum tonight; she’s driven me mad. She’s so bossy – it’s her way or the highway. I’ll be glad when they retire to be honest. We can run it our way, then.’
‘I’ve been meaning to ask you,’ Titch added, looking a bit guilty. ‘Have you seen an envelope anywhere? I had it that night I crashed out, but I can’t for the life of me remember where I put it.’
‘You mean this one?’ Ritchie pulled it from behind some bills that were stacked in a rack on the side. ‘I meant to talk to you about it and I forgot too. Life is so bloody busy.’ He took a long pull of beer and sighed with the relief of taking the weight off his long legs. ‘I hope you don’t mind but it was open with no writing on the front, so I nosily pulled it out and read it.’
‘I’ve got nothing to hide from you, my darling, so of course it’s fine.’ Titch made herself a cup of tea and sat down next to her husband at the kitchen table.
‘What you’ve written is beautiful, from the heart. You so deserve to be gifted that shop, Titch.’
‘That’s the thing – I started writing it and well, I don’t see any point. Josh really knocked my confidence that day. Maybe he’s right and I’m not good enough to take it on. I would fail and I don’t want that for our little family. Plus, we will have the chip shop business eventually, so I think I should let it lie.’
‘You’ve already said you prefer serving at the Corner Shop to working in the fish-and-chip shop.’
‘Yes, but I said that rashly before you told me that it was your family business and was being passed down to you/us when we are married. I will, of course, do everything to support you,’ Titch said loyally. ‘We’re a team, remember. And I don’t want to muck things up for any of us.’
‘The shop would be so much easier to manage with a baby than working late nights.’ Ritchie smiled and kissed his pretty fiancée gently on the lips. ‘And if we are going to have some babies of our own, then you need to be happy and I don’t want you working all the time if you don’t have to. Especially not at night.’
‘I don’t know.’ Titch sighed and sipped her tea.
‘All I’m saying is that you shouldn’t let that one comment from Josh stop you from following your dream, because, on reading between the lines, I believe that’s exactly what running the shop would be for you – a dream come true. You love that place. You love Rosa. It just makes sense. And talking of sense, you have common sense in spades. You know all about the ordering, the stocktaking, and if you get stuck, I can sort the figures. I’m good at all that shit – I’ve had to be from a young age working where I do.’
Ritchie drained his beer. ‘I believe in you, Titch Whittaker. And there’s less than two weeks now to get it to Rosa. So, in my opinion you need to finish what you started.’
‘I’ll see.’ Titch stuffed the envelope back behind the bills.
Realising nothing more needed to be said on the matter tonight, Ritchie stood up. ‘Talking of finishing what we started, or tried to start that night, this sausage is in desperate need of a fine old battering.’ He took Titch’s hand and put it down the front of his joggers.
‘It’s a good job my mother wears earplugs.’ Titch laughed. ‘But come on, you rude boy, you’re right – it’s about time we had some fun.’
CHAPTER 42
On seeing Luke standing by his mother’s graveside, Rosa halted uncertainly. She was taking Hot on his early-morning walk and didn’t expect anyone to be here at this hour. She had come to see what people had written on the mountain of flowers that were propped against the raised mound of earth. Despite her non-religious beliefs, she not only loved a church but, weirdly, had always found graveyards fascinating. Had even started getting ideas for baby names from the headstones.
Mary and she had agreed that attending the wake wasn’t the right thing to do. ‘We’ve paid our respects, duck, and that is enough,’ Mary had said firmly. Rosa could tell that Josh was secretly pleased with her decision. She also knew that with Luke’s emotions running so high with her, it would be much kinder to step back and leave him to deal with everything to do with his family in his own way.
It was too late to turn around. Casually, she walked down the path towards the grieving man, doing her best to act as if she always took this route, trying to stop Hot peeing against gravestones as she did so. The cemetery was on higher ground and made for a breath-taking view of the bay. Winter sun was poking its head through, and even the gulls sounded more cheerful than usual with their constant mewing. Spotting a white dove sitting on a raised crypt near the edge of the wall, Rosa thought there were worse places one could wish to rest for eternity.
She was almost on top of Lucas before he spoke to her, his voice breaking. ‘Why didn’t you tell me straightaway, Rosa?’
How silly was she to think that he would never mention something so massive?
‘Oh Luke, I wanted to but also I didn’t want to hurt you any further. You’d just lost your mum and then to hear that she had thrown herself down the cellar steps deliberately, well…’
His voice was now barely audible. ‘I meant about you being pregnant.’
Rosa inwardly cringed. She’d rather talk with him about his mother than confront the great big baby-shaped elephant in the room now.
Since that day in the police station, when Rosa had been sick and the penny had dropped, Lucas had felt as if his insides were burning. When he had met the pretty brunette, she had been single, and he wasn’t. When she was in a relationship, his hopes were still quite high that she might dump Josh for one of her own kind. Even after she was married he had kept a faint hope going – but pregnant? No, he knew now that the chances of ever being with Rosa Smith, formerly Larkin, were completely over – and the realisation of this hurt. It hurt a lot.
‘Oh! Well, I haven’t told everyone yet. I’m not even three months, Luke,’ she replied, trying to make light of it but feeling his pain so strongly it compelled her to hold her arms out to him.
‘No. No, Rosa! Just leave me alone. I came here for some peace.’ He turned away from her, then swung himself back round. ‘What is wrong with me? Common sense tells me you’re married, and I know I can’t be with you.’ Then, not knowing what to do with the emotions that were searing through his veins, he set off and started walking towards the cemetery gates.
Letting Hot off the lead and praying he would behave in this sacred place, Rosa ran after the troubled man. Holding both of his arms tightly, she said, ‘Look at me. You’re going through hell but I’m not the problem. It just seems as if I am because you are hurting so much about your mum. I will always be here for you as a friend. I really like you, Luke. And if I’m being totally honest, and if it helps, well, I fancy you too.’
‘Then why can’t we be together?’ he burst out. ‘Isn’t that what a relationship is? Friendship and lust?’
Rosa closed her eyes for a second. ‘Oh Luke. I am in love with Josh. Life’s all about timing, and well…it was just off for bo
th of us.’ She tried to sound upbeat. ‘Now we can have everything without the complication that a real relationship brings, can’t we? Friendship, fun, a bit of banter – some harmless flirting?’
Lucas put both hands over his face as if that would make all his pain disappear. He then looked directly at her and said bitterly, ‘You just don’t get it, do you?’ He pulled away. ‘Everything, you say? Are you really that deluded, Rosa? We can’t have anything, not now.’
‘I’m so sorry, Luke.’ Hot appeared now, barking at both their feet. ‘So sorry.’
As he strode out of the gates and down the street towards the bay, Lucas looked back and shouted hoarsely, ‘And if I can’t have you – what’s the fucking point!’
CHAPTER 43
‘How much do you reckon a fifty-voice soul choir would be for the reception?’
Titch was sitting at the Corner Shop counter flicking through a wedding magazine that she’d stolen from the doctor’s surgery.
Rosa came through from the back kitchen with mugs of tea and a plate containing some of the Co-op’s Triple Chocolate Cookies, as recommended by Mary.
‘You crack me up, Titch Whittaker. We can only seat thirty in the café. Where would we put them all?’ Then, on placing the tray down by the till, Rosa added, ‘Saying that, I’m sure me and Sara can step in. We do a mean rendition of “Ave Maria” every time we mop the floor, but I can’t guarantee it won’t flatten the bubbles in the champagne.’
Titch’s expression didn’t alter. ‘Hmm. Can I take a rain check on that?’ She then said randomly, ‘Have you thought of any baby names yet?’
‘No, I haven’t had much chance to think about Mr Bump’s name yet, because there’s been so much going on.’
Titch shoved a biscuit into her mouth, licked her fingers. ‘Mr Bump, eh?’ she said with her mouth full.