Daisy flopped down onto the sand. Her lips trembled and she pressed her fist to her chest. She pulled up her knees and at last she let go. She released the tears that had been burning her eyes and with them she tried to let go of the burden she’d carried all these years. A sob turned into a wail and she yelled out her pain, the sound fading into the night. Daisy ran her fingers through the sand, digging them in hard and feeling the grains catch under her fingernails. She raked at it as the sorrow clutched at her heart. She rested her throbbing forehead on her knees and sobbed until there were no more tears to come.
Daisy took a couple of days off work leaving Tamsyn and Old Man Burgess manning Locos and spent them either curled up in bed or pacing the beach. It was where she felt closest to her mother. Aunt Coral had provided a bottomless supply of tea and listened to her retell Pasco’s version of events countless times as Daisy tried to seal the facts in her mind. It was as if she was grieving for Sandy all over again. The pain cut through her, a physical relentless ache. The only small consolation was that her mother had not been totally alone.
All the time Bug had not left her side, even if she went to the toilet he nudged the door open to join her, which she could have done without but the fact the little dog sensed her distress was comforting. Now she knew the missing pieces of the story perhaps she could make peace with the past but right now that felt like it was a long way off.
A few shifts at Locos had Daisy back in the swing of some form of normality, but the revelation about her mother’s death still dominated her thoughts. The initial local excitement at the drug smuggling bust had long since dwindled and she had hired some more help before the season got into full swing. She still had Old Man Burgess working the odd mornings on the hot chocolate shift and alongside her and Tamsyn she had a bouncy Australian named Maddison at weekends who was a fast learner and already a popular attraction with the local men.
A few times she had seen Max at a distance jogging on the beach but they hadn’t acknowledged each other. She was confused by her feelings for Max. She still wasn’t sure she could trust him. It wasn’t long until her forced stay was up, but for the first time it felt odd to think of leaving the bay and saying goodbye to everyone, including Max. Stick to the plan, she thought. She was managing enough heartache at the moment so self-preservation told her to keep a safe distance from him.
She had seen Pasco in town a couple of times but she had put her head down and walked on. Whilst knowing what happened had helped her start to lay her mother’s ghost to rest, it had also highlighted how Pasco had selfishly kept this information secret for all these years solely to protect himself.
Then one balmy evening in early May Pasco walked in to Locos and made himself comfortable in the corner of the bar. Maddison was already working through a big order so Daisy took a deep breath and decided to be the bigger person. For the time being they were all still living in the bay. She put on her best professional smile and went to serve him.
‘Evening, Pasco. What can I get you?’
‘Hello, Daisy.’ His voice was warm and similar to his son’s. She dispelled the thought of Max that burst into her brain. ‘I’d like to try this cocoa gin,’ said Pasco, studying the specials board. ‘What mixer does it come with?’
‘If you like gin and orange it works well in a cocoa martini?’ suggested Daisy.
Pasco licked his lips. ‘Sounds perfect.’ Daisy set to work on the cocktail and tried to ignore Pasco watching her intensely. It wasn’t unusual; people liked to watch when she mixed cocktails, there was a natural fascination, but right now she could have done without his scrutiny.
She handed him his finished cocktail and he thanked her and paid. She waited while he sipped it, closing his eyes and savouring the flavours. ‘Delicious.’ She was expecting something else, but he turned slightly to look across the room signalling the end of the conversation. She should have felt relieved but oddly she didn’t. She took a couple of the orders from Maddison to occupy her mind and stop her overthinking her feelings.
Despite everything, tonight she was drawn to Pasco. She wanted to talk to him and she also didn’t. He was the link to the past, he was the one person who witnessed her mother’s final moments and now he had shared them.
‘Pasco?’
He swivelled around to face her. His face was weathered but still handsome in a roguish way. ‘Yes, Daisy?’
‘Thanks for telling me the truth about my mother. I know it all happened a long time ago but I think it’s helped me to know.’
‘I should have told you before. Not just for your sake but for my own. I’ve been carrying it with me for too many years. Time just puts distance between you and the event, it doesn’t heal anything.’
They exchanged smiles and Daisy got back to work.
As the days lengthened and the weather warmed up, May became increasingly busy and business increased at both ends of the working day. The sun had brought in young families and the recent arrival of the bats had brought out the bat watchers in force, which was excellent for evening trade. With the greater horseshoe bat being quite rare, there were only a handful of nursing roosts located in Devon, making Locos something of a mini wildlife attraction.
When Daisy got back to the cottage late one night she kicked off her shoes and flopped onto the sofa. ‘Boy I’m tired.’
‘Was it busy?’ asked Aunt Coral, switching off the television and giving Daisy her full attention.
‘Yeah, we had a leaving do in and they were pretty much working their way through the cocktail menu, which is excellent for the takings. We also had the usual faces out in force.’
‘Pasco?’ asked Aunt Coral. ‘Was he in tonight?’ Daisy had noticed Aunt Coral asked after him a lot lately.
‘Yeah, Pasco was in. He’s doing all right for himself now he’s got a steady job. Maybe you should ask him for a coffee or something.’
Coral eyed her suspiciously. ‘Now why would I want to be spending time with Pasco Davey?’
‘Who are you kidding? You two are like a couple of teenagers when you get together. What is stopping the two of you?’
Aunt Coral took a deep breath. ‘That was all a long time ago. We’re different people now.’
Daisy felt sad for her. ‘I had a little chat to him recently actually.’
‘Ooh what about?’ Aunt Coral bent forward.
‘We talked a little about my mother, he had some funny memories of her. I think it’s helped him telling me about what happened the night she died.’
Aunt Coral reached out and clasped Daisy’s hand. ‘It was never going to be easy.’
‘No. But I like the idea of her dancing, even at the end. It feels kind of fitting she was acting a bit whacky. Just how I remember her.’
‘They were whacky times,’ said Aunt Coral.
‘I don’t mean drugs,’ said Daisy, quick to clarify what she’d meant.
‘Oh, everyone did a little weed back then.’ Aunt Coral gave a cheeky shrug of her shoulders.
Daisy’s expression changed. She stared at Aunt Coral her frown tightening. ‘Did they? I thought that was the sixties not the nineties.’
‘Oh they were rife in the nineties. Not all the time. We weren’t addicts or anything. Just a bit of weed on the beach and at parties. Harmless stuff.’
Daisy’s eyebrows hitched up a notch. ‘I bet my dad didn’t see it like that – he’s dead against drugs.’ She watched her aunt’s expression.
Aunt Coral broke eye contact as her gaze darted around the room looking at anything apart from Daisy. ‘Perhaps I should go to bed,’ she said, picking up her empty sherry glass.
‘I can’t believe my dad would sit back and let you do drugs?’ Daisy felt she was questioning a fundamental fact about her father.
‘I wish you’d stop saying drugs. There’s a huge difference between weed and something like heroin.’ Aunt Coral looked agitated.
‘But still, Dad is against all of it. He’d never condone it.’ But as she finished the
sentence she saw her aunt sneer. ‘He didn’t smoke the stuff. Did he?’ Daisy waited for her aunt’s response.
Aunt Coral stared at the carpet and said nothing. Eventually she looked up slowly and sighed as she made eye contact with Daisy. She nodded. ‘We all did, love.’
Daisy was still frowning. ‘I don’t believe it.’ This didn’t make any sense. Her father had always had a strong anti-drugs message especially when she was at university. He was always reminding Daisy of the dangers. She thought he was just being over protective but now everything looked very different.
‘I’m sorry, Daisy. We’re none of us perfect, you know. And like I said it was never anything heavy and everyone was doing it.’
‘What changed his mind?’ Daisy’s suspicion was growing. ‘How did he go from casual dope smoker to anti-drugs vigilante?’
Aunt Coral looked cornered. ‘I’ve said too much. This shouldn’t be me having this conversation with you, it should be Ray. Only he can tell you how things changed.’
There was a long pause where the two women sat uncomfortably in the small living room with Bug snoring on the rug, oblivious to the confrontation swirling above him.
Daisy looked shocked as realisation dawned. ‘I’m so stupid. It’s only after Mum’s death that he’s been anti-drugs isn’t it?’ She didn’t wait for a response. ‘My mother smoked marijuana as well. She was high on the stuff wasn’t she?’
Daisy stood up, her breathing was fast and she was overheating. Aunt Coral gave a brief nod. Daisy raked her hands through her hair. ‘Shit. That’s what killed her. She was off her head.’ Daisy started to laugh. It wasn’t driven by humour but by a sick grasp of the situation. ‘That’s why she was dancing on the bloody headland. Not because she was free and happy but because she was stoned.’
Aunt Coral wiped away a tear and Daisy felt a brief pang of guilt. She knew she shouldn’t be calling Aunt Coral to account but nobody else was here. Her questions were coming thick and fast now and she couldn’t stop herself from firing them all at her aunt. ‘Did you tell the police about the marijuana?’
‘No,’ said Aunt Coral, taking a hanky out of her cardigan sleeve and blowing her nose. ‘We agreed it would only make things worse. And we didn’t want the papers getting the wrong idea, making out she was a drug addict or something. It was just a—’
‘A bit of weed. Yeah, you said. But the thing is it killed my mother.’ Daisy was aware she was failing to control the anger spiralling up inside her.
‘I am sorry, Daisy. But it was just bad luck that Sandy went up onto the headland without anyone noticing.’
Daisy was boiling with anger and she knew she was only going to start shouting if she didn’t leave and calm down.
‘And was it bad luck you were all too stoned to look for her?’
‘We thought she’d gone home and then when we got back we all crashed out. Nobody meant for it to happen. You have to believe me. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.’
Daisy couldn’t look at her aunt any more. She grabbed Bug’s lead, clipped it on and picked him up from his comfortable spot. ‘I’m going out. I don’t know when I’ll be back.’
A walk on the cliffs was out of the question. Somewhere that had so often been her go to place was now the last place she wanted to be. Bug was confused by the change in routine but seemed to perk up as a fresh wave of smells hit his squashed nostrils and he trotted along merrily at the lively pace Daisy was setting. Daisy’s head was full of questions she wanted to ask and answers she didn’t want to accept. After all this time, the key piece of information had never been revealed. No wonder her father had been adamant it was an accident and it explained why he always appeared to blame himself – of course he blamed himself, it was his fault.
If just one of them had gone after her before that fateful moment my mother would probably still be here now, she thought. Daisy hadn’t noticed she was crying until the tears dripped off her chin. She angrily wiped them away. This felt so unfair and somehow worse. It could have been prevented. She walked on taking deep breaths as she tried to calm herself down. Blinking away the tears she crossed the road and tried to ignore the drizzling rain.
A thought struck her and she stopped dead, making Bug jerk on the lead as it pulled taut. He gave her an unhappy look. She pulled out her phone and rang her dad. She didn’t care what time it was in Goa. She had a question she needed to ask.
Chapter Seven
After a lot of holding on, whilst various people searched for her father, a bright and familiar voice finally came on the phone. ‘Baby, how are you?’
Daisy was gripping the phone tightly. ‘Who was looking after me the night Mum died?’
‘Er … what’s wrong, Daisy? Has something happened?’
‘Dad. I just want a straight answer for once. Who was looking after me the night Mum died?’
There was a long pause on the other end of the line before he eventually spoke. ‘It was Reg.’
A long silence followed while Daisy processed the answer. She had almost forgotten about Great Uncle Reg and instantly felt bad for her lapse. He had been the one person who had always been there for her so this news shouldn’t have been a surprise.
‘Right. Thanks.’ She was about to end the call.
‘Daisy, I can tell there’s something wrong. What’s brought all this up again?’
Daisy rolled her eyes. He made it sound trivial. ‘Aunt Coral has explained that Mum died because she was off her face on marijuana and everyone else was too and that’s the reason nobody went to find her and why she died—’ Her voiced cracked and she had to take a steadying breath ‘—because you were all too stoned to look for her. How could you?’ She was shaking her head as she spoke. She felt she would never be able to understand.
After a pause he spoke. ‘I’m sorry, Daisy. I’ve spent all these years …’
‘Lying to me about it?’
‘Trying to protect you.’
‘From what? Doing dope like you and Mum used to do?’
‘From knowing your mother wasn’t perfect.’
The sentence hit her hard. She listened to her father’s breathing on the line and she knew instinctively he was crying. They cried silently together for a moment, the distance between them lost.
She heard her father take a deep breath. ‘Daisy, nobody knows if that’s why she died. It may have had nothing to do with it.’
‘Someone saw her the night she died. She was dancing and twirling on the tip of the headland. She lost her footing and she fell.’
She heard her father sob and despite how cross she was with him it broke her heart to hear it. She listened to him cry openly and felt her heart ache for him. Despite everything she knew, Sandy was the love of his life and his world had been shattered beyond repair when she died. This was reopening an old wound and laying it bare.
‘Who saw her?’ he asked at last.
‘Pasco Davey.’
Pasco oddly now seemed like the hero of the story. The man who had risked his own life to pull Sandy from the sea and try to save her while her own husband was in a drug-fuelled slumber.
‘Pasco?’ There was a hint of irony in his voice.
‘It’s a long story.’ Daisy was feeling overwhelmed with the fatigue of her emotions and didn’t have the energy to explain further.
‘Please know that I love you, Daisy. I have to go.’ Her father’s voice was choked with emotion and before she could protest the line went dead. In a flash of frustration she wanted to hurl the phone at the footpath, but what good would it do? She was weighed down with sadness. The rain was spitting on her and adding to her despair. Bug shook off some of the rain, sat back down and patiently waited for Daisy to continue their walk. Daisy noticed she was shivering, the water had penetrated her thin jacket and was dripping off her hair and mingling with the tears. She heard a distant voice and slowly turned towards it.
‘Daisy?’ An equally sodden Tamsyn was coming into view. ‘You all right?’
Daisy
and Bug were a bedraggled-looking pair when they finally made it to Tamsyn’s front door.
‘Come in. Give me Bug, I’ll take him home and explain to Coral. Although I’m not entirely sure why you can’t go back there.’
Daisy looked forlorn. ‘She knows why,’ she said, in a tired voice. Any anger had abated and she was left with only a hollow sadness. Tamsyn ushered Daisy into the living room where she was greeted warmly by the rest of the Turvey family while Tamsyn wrapped Bug in an old towel and marched off.
It was a bit like being in someone else’s house at Christmas. Everyone was overly friendly when all Daisy wanted to do was curl up into a ball and cry. All the times she had wished for the truth, to know all the details, and yet here she was overwhelmed by everything she’d found out. Maybe there was something in the saying ‘be careful what you wish for’. Perhaps she would have been better off not knowing.
‘You poor mite, you’re frozen. Let me put the fire on for you. Sit yourself down,’ said Tamsyn’s mother Min. ‘Alan,’ she then hollered in contrast. ‘Fetch a blanket.’
A well-weathered Alan appeared with something swirly draped over his arm. ‘What’s the fire on for, Min? It’s bloody May.’
‘Can’t you see the girl’s cold?’ Their good-natured bickering had amused Daisy as a child. ‘What else can I get you?’ asked Min.
‘I’m fine,’ said Daisy, looking the opposite of fine. Her usually bouncy caramel curls lay dull and lank from the rain and her fine features were red and puffy from crying.
Ottercombe Bay – Part Four Page 5