‘Probably not,’ Alfie said in the serious tone of an adult, then he got back to drawing a wigwam.
‘When are the others coming?’ Colin asked Harry. Because Alfie trusted the man, he did also. ‘I want to go in the sea.’
Harry looked past the few shops. Andrew Macarthur’s car had just come into sight and behind it the Reverend Farrow’s was pulling out to pass the first horse and cart. ‘We’re in business, boys. Go get your buckets and spades.’
‘We ain’t got none,’ Alfie shouted back. Used to improvising, and very good at it, his large brown eyes had been sweeping over sand, rocks and bank seeking suitable objects as substitutes.
‘I’ve brought some for you.’
‘For all of us?’
‘That’s right. They’re in the boot of my car. You can fetch them, Alfie.’
‘Brilliant!’ Alfie shrieked. ‘Thanks. You’re a nice man. Can’t see why people don’t like you.’
Harry made a wry face. There was only one person in Kilgarthen that he cared about liking him and she was walking their way, wearing a straw sunhat, sleeveless blouse, thin cotton skirt and sandals, holding her chubby baby on her slender hip.
Playing his cat and mouse game, Harry merely smiled at Tressa then gave his attention to Rodney, moving him to his other arm and stroking his head.
‘Is he all right?’ Tressa asked. ‘Can you manage?’
‘Poor little chap was car sick, weren’t you, Rodney? We had to stop for him twice.’
Rodney was enjoying the unaccustomed closeness of being ensconced in a pair of big arms. He was feeling better already but some of Alfie’s artfulness had rubbed off on him and he reckoned he could get a big ice cream if he played his cards right. He looked at Tressa mournfully out of big blue eyes.
‘Never mind, Rodney.’ Tressa rubbed his back and Harry breathed in her gentle perfume. ‘The sea air will soon buck you up.’
‘I hope you’re looking after that child properly,’ Andrew said curtly, hurrying up to them.
‘I’m perfectly at home with children, Macarthur,’ Harry said, keeping his voice light. It amused him how the other man worried about his wife’s welfare when he was around. ‘Shall we lead the way to the beach? There are a few people about but there’s a nice spot just there by the stream,’ he inclined his dark head. ‘The children can paddle safely where we can keep an eye on them.’
The rest of the party joined them in small groups. After a short trudge across the sand, there was a prolonged bustle as rugs were laid on the fine sand, hampers and bags of food and towels were put in the shade of two umbrellas, deckchairs were set up.
The women helped the children into their bathing suits and insisted that those who had sunhats must keep them on. Ice cream was promised to those who were well-behaved. The Reverend Endean’s wife had brought a first aid kit in the event of grazed knees and insect stings. There were twenty-two adults in all, and while some supervised the children’s play, others took the opportunity of having a flask cup of tea.
Kinsley Farrow announced a programme which the ‘committee’ had agreed upon. First there would be a sandcastle building competition which his friend, the vicar of St Enodoc who had joined the party, would judge and award prizes for. Then the picnic would be eaten. After a period long enough for tummies to settle, the children would be taken down to the shoreline to paddle and splash in the sea; swimming was banned because the sea was running high. Finally there would be a cricket match.
Laura was sitting on a rug between Tressa, Guy and Ince. She passed Ince a cup of tea and made a comment that had been on her mind since they’d set out. ‘I rather thought that Eve Pascoe would have come today. You did ask her if she’d like to, didn’t you, Ince?’
‘I don’t think it’s her sort of thing,’ Ince muttered, scanning the rolling waves that could thunder inland on this north coast of Cornwall with great ferocity.
Tressa hadn’t missed the moody note in his voice and looked round Laura curiously at him. ‘You must bring her over to Tregorlan some time, Ince.’
Ignoring Tressa, Ince sipped the tea then put the cup back in Laura’s hand. ‘Thanks. I think I’ll go and play with Vicki.’
Tressa and Laura had discussed the possibility of a romance between Ince and Eve. They were disappointed that nothing seemed to be progressing along those lines.
‘What can we do to help?’ Tressa said after Ince had gone, both women watching him pad across the sand with his head down until he reached Vicki who was building a sandcastle with Rachael Farrow.
‘I don’t think we’d better do anything,’ Laura replied cautiously. ‘Ince has changed since Spencer and I married. I don’t think he would appreciate what he would see as interference. Anyway, we could stir up something that Ince might come to regret. Eve Pascoe is a mysterious woman. Sometimes I wonder if she could be married.’
‘Really? I hadn’t thought about anything like that. Pity there aren’t more young women about. You can see how much Ince would like a family.’
‘I’m beginning to wonder if Harry would like the same thing. Look how he’s getting on with the Uren boys.’
Tressa only grunted at that suggestion. Her eyes had been following Andrew as he’d gone round organising two sides of men and children for the cricket match, but every now and then they had strayed to Harry’s tall, dark, striking frame. While most of the men were casually dressed but smart, Harry wore his clothes with his own devil-may-care flair. When he laughed his teeth showed neat and white between his wide mouth.
In the pub last week Tressa had been forced to stay in his arms for her safety and because she’d felt sick, but she had been aware that he’d nearly kissed her. She regretted deeply that she had been unable to move away from him. She had not told Andrew it had been Harry who had saved her from possible further injury. Now she felt she had been disloyal to Andrew and had the uneasy feeling that Harry could threaten her marriage. Given the right opportunity, she intended to talk to him, to tell him that she was sure he was still out to seduce her despite his apparent disregard. If he thought she would always be on her guard perhaps he would give up his lecherous campaign.
Alfie won the sandcastle competition for the best overall work of art. Loosely interpreting the rules, he had built an aeroplane complete with cockpit that he could sit in. He had worked on his creation for over a sweaty hour on his own, refusing to let any of his brothers help him. Sculpting, piling, patting, pressing, smoothing, fetching water, his artistry impressed all the gathering and he blushed proudly at the round of applause. He remembered to say thank you when he received his prize, a large stick of rock and an illustrated pocket-sized book about the sea and its creatures. Vicki and Rachael, their joint effort being a traditional sandcastle complete with moat and flags, shared the second prize of a quarter pound of lemon suckers.
After the picnic, in which heaps of sandwiches, splits, yeast buns and lemonade were consumed, the party relaxed in the sun. Roslyn Farrow was enjoying caring for baby Emily who, away from the strained atmosphere at home, was bright and content. Roslyn laid her down with the other very small children to doze under makeshift shades of tea towels and cardigans. Johnny Prouse, who had come for the change of scene and sea air, snoozed contentedly in a deckchair under his ancient straw hat. To the amusement of their wives, Andrew got together with Kinsley to discuss tactics for the cricket match. It was only a friendly game, with most of the team members being children, but Andrew was leading a team against Harry and he was taking it very seriously. Ince sat back from those left in the group, sifting sand through his hands, his knees drawn up, head bent over.
‘You don’t look very happy,’ Spencer said, crouching beside him and lighting a cigarette. ‘Anything I can do? I hope you know you can turn to me like you did before I went off half-cocked at you.’
Ince held out his palm and let a pile of sand gather on it. ‘Outings like this remind me that I haven’t got my own family, that’s all.’
‘I, um, thoug
ht perhaps you and Eve Pascoe had something going.’
‘You must be joking! I can’t make head or tail of that woman.’
‘Do you like her? I mean have you got feelings for her?’
‘No,’ Ince said sharply. ‘Anyway,’ he laughed sourly, ‘Les is so frightened I’ll whisk her away from him he doesn’t let her out of his sight.’
Blowing out smoke, Spencer looked at Ince sympathetically. ‘You’ve had a bloody rough time this year, thanks to me and a few others.’
‘I don’t bear you any grudges, Spencer, so you can get that out of your head. I was even pleased for a while that you thumped me. I thought it would help me get somewhere with Eve.’
‘So you have tried then?’
‘I almost got to kiss her!’ Ince exploded, then quietened down when a few curious faces turned his way. ‘But Les saw us and went wild.’
‘Sounds like you shouldn’t give up hope, mate. Why don’t you ask her out again?’
‘I don’t think she’s much interested in me,’ Ince told him. She had become rather aloof and seemed preoccupied with her own thoughts. Occasionally he caught her looking at him with what might have been a wistful expression, but she soon looked away again.
‘Well, she won’t be interested if you go around with a miserable face like you’ve got now,’ Spencer counselled, putting a hand on his shoulder. ‘Anyone would think you were me.’
Spencer had never been given to making fun of himself and Ince stared at him. Spencer was grinning. ‘Come on, cheer up. I could have lost Laura by dragging my heels so long over our wedding date. Eve looks a determined sort of woman to me. If she wants to go out with you, then she’ll find a way. You’ve got nothing to lose by asking her out for a drink, have you? Surely you can find a moment when old Les isn’t around.’
A smile formed at last on Ince’s gentle features. ‘You’re right. I’ll do it. It isn’t as if she’s under twenty-one and has to answer to Les for everything.’ He was quite spry now. ‘Thanks for the pep talk, mate.’
Spencer looked fondly at Laura. She was cuddling Guy who was sleeping in her arms. He wanted Ince to know the comfort and affection of a woman which he was experiencing for the second time. He always kept a careful check on Laura’s dates and he knew she was two days late and his hopes were as high as hers that soon it would be their baby clasped lovingly in her arms.
Wanting to monopolise Guy a bit longer, Laura suggested to Tressa that she take a walk along the beach. Being somewhat of a loner by nature, Tressa welcomed the break. She paddled the length of the shoreline, walking in the direction of Pentire Point, a headland that rose up a glorious three hundred feet of rugged granite. She let the tips of the waves lick her bare feet and she pulled the scarf out of her hair to let her long brown hair spill free in the wind. Putting her hands over her flat tummy, she thought about her coming child, considering names with a sea flavour for it, Robert after the shanty Bobby Shaftoe, Helen after Helen of Troy whose beauty had launched a thousand ships. Out in the bay was a stretch of treacherous sand called Doom Bar; she hoped her children would sail easily through their lives and not come a cropper like so many sailing ships had on the Bar.
The tide was steadily coming in up the beach and she was too cautious to carry on to the base of the cliff. She turned about and retraced her steps. The tide was quickly consuming the sand and she had to keep moving inland to avoid getting her skirt wet, but there was still a wide expanse of the beautiful lichen-covered, purple and green-streaked rocks of Trebetherick Point to be explored. She had been a little girl, the same age as Vicki, when she had last jumped over the rocks here and looked for shore wildlife in the pools of water.
She was out of sight of the others, dipping her toes amongst the seaweed in a rock pool when Harry came up to her. He was smoking a cigarette with his usual reckless grin.
‘I’m surprised your husband has let you out of his sight with me around.’
Tressa had been half hoping Harry would seek her out. For once she had plenty to say to him. ‘I’ve been wanting to speak to you alone.’
One eyebrow rose very slowly. ‘I am honoured; Go on.’
Putting her small, rough hands on her narrow hips, Tressa said as sternly as she could, ‘You took liberties with me in the pub that night.’
‘I did?’ he said as though amazed, touching a hand to his chest in a gesture of innocence. ‘I rather thought I’d saved you from being trampled to death.’
‘I’m grateful for your quick actions in saving me from being hurt, but you know what I’m talking about. You held me closer and longer than was necessary. There was no need for you to take me behind that table. I hate to think what you would have done to me if we’d been alone.’
Harry laughed dangerously, then he moved nearer to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. He’d had enough of playing silly games with her. ‘I don’t exactly remember you struggling to get out of my arms, sweetheart.’
She swiped his hand away from her. ‘How could I? I was nearly unconscious!’
‘So you say.’
‘It’s the truth. How could you think I’d want to be that close to you by choice?’
‘You make a lot of self-righteous noises, Tressa darling, but I think you may be just the teeniest bit excited and flattered by my attention. I don’t think you want me to stop chasing you. You didn’t tell your husband that it was me who came to your aid that night, did you?’
‘O-only because he w-wouldn’t have liked it,’ Tressa stammered. A panic rose inside her, clamping the edges of her heart, and she backed away from him. ‘What are you trying to say?’
‘Let me put it this way, Tressa. I want to make love to you. I always have. I could have just about any woman I like, but there’s something about you that keeps me in a state of constant arousal.’
‘You’re disgusting!’ she shrieked, edging further away. She was now knee-deep in the pool, water creeping up from the hem of her skirt.
‘Perhaps I am,’ he smirked. ‘But it’s your fault for being so absolutely delicious. I’ll make a deal with you, Tressa. Let me have just one proper kiss and I won’t tell your dear boring Andrew that you let me kiss you behind that table.’
Tressa was very frightened but fought to keep her wits. ‘You can’t blackmail me like that. I won’t let you.’
‘You mean you’d rather risk your happy marriage for the sake of one little kiss? Come on, darling. Don’t be awkward. Who knows, it might even get you out of my system once and for all.’
‘I’ll tell you what I’m going to do, you wretched swine,’ Tressa snarled, wading out of the water and confronting him. ‘I’m going to march across the beach and tell Andrew every single thing you’ve just said. No doubt he’ll want to do something about it. We’ll see how you like that, shall we?’
‘I don’t think you ought to do that, sweetheart,’ Harry purred evilly.
The threat in his voice made Tressa freeze. She glared at him with fear mounting inside her. ‘Wh-what do you mean?’
‘I think there’s been rather too many fights lately for the good people of Kilgarthen to keep on tolerating, don’t you? Spencer nearly ruined the fete by thumping Ince Polkinghorne. Tamblyn and Miller nearly ruined Celeste Cunningham’s goodbye party. If you go running to Andrew with that sordid little tale, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from putting a punch on my chin. As a gentleman,’ he grinned, ‘I’d have no option but to defend myself, and that would certainly ruin the outing for all those dear kiddies. I can see their little faces now. Crying their eyes out because there would probably never be another outing to the beach. And all because some silly young girl kept something from her doting hubby. So, what’s it going to be, Tressa? A kiss, or a lot of distraught children and a suspicious husband?’
The danger will come in an unexpected way. Part of Dolores Uren’s warning rang in Tressa’s ears. But this kind of sordid proposition from Harry Lean was not unexpected or surprising. Tressa was in a terrible dilemma over this,
but could Harry do something even worse to harm her and those she loved? If she gave in to his blackmail she knew it would only make things worse. She didn’t doubt that Harry would demand she go to bed with him to keep silent that she had agreed to kiss him on the beach, and he wouldn’t stop there. She could see all her happiness sweeping away from her in one despicable act. Tears seared her lids. ‘Please, Harry, don’t do this to me.’
‘No need to cry, darling, over one little kiss.’ His quickness startled her. He placed his hands on her waist and drew her to him,
Tressa felt his breath on her face and his lips seeking hers.
‘No!’ She wrenched herself away from him, the back of her hand flying to her mouth as if she’d been poisoned. Then she saw something that might save her. Rodney was toddling on his own towards them.
Harry saw him at the same moment and was angry that the boy had been allowed to wander off unsupervised.
‘Poor bloody kid!’ he snapped, lifting the boy up in his arms. ‘Do they want to see him lost or drowned? He may come from a poor family but his mother loves him just as much as any other.’
Rodney put his small arms tightly round his neck. He trusts me, Harry thought. The child trusts a man who has been trying to force another man’s wife into his bed. Harry had meant to trap Tressa and then carry on an association with her on a regular basis. He had laughed at Bruce Tamblyn’s affair and had never stopped to think what Bert Miller was going through. Bert hadn’t been seen for days; he was near to suicide, according to the latest rumour.
Harry looked at Tressa and it was then he really saw her tears and the despair in her tender pale face and had an inkling of how she must be feeling. Small and childlike, fresh and innocent, the qualities that had kept him attracted to her for so long, she looked vulnerable and pathetic with sea water dripping off her skirt. If he had got his way with her it would have wrecked her life and her family’s. His lecherous campaign and threats alone had caused her untold distress. He was sickened with himself. For the first time in his life he realised what sort of a man he was. It was a grotesquely ugly sight and he was shaken to the roots of his rotten soul.
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