by Nicola May
But I didn’t (smiley face) Rosa replied immediately.
(picture of wings) You are an angel.
I know. Text me when you’re back.
Rosa stretched and yawned. ‘Right, come on boy, let’s get down that beach and have a walk. It looks like it’s going to be a beautiful day.’ On hearing the magic ‘w’ word, Hot was whiffling around, waiting for his lead and harness to go on, after his mistress had thrown on some clothes and cleaned her teeth.
After all the cold winter walks they had taken together, it was a joy, Rosa thought happily, to stroll on the beach with the sun on her face and not having to wear a coat. Hot barked in delight as he mingled with all the other dogs out this morning. The sea was still and calm, and even the seagulls didn’t seem to be crying as loudly as usual. The horizon was so straight it looked like it had been cut with scissors. It wouldn’t be long before it would be possible to sunbathe and even swim.
Despite the peaceful outlook, every time that Rosa looked out to sea now, she couldn’t help but think of Ned’s letters to T - and also of the distressing image of Dotty jumping to her death from West Cliffs, the very place where Ned and Queenie had found such love. Poor Dotty. What on earth must have been going through her mind as she made that final walk up to the edge?
Rosa still found it hard to believe that T was Queenie. She still hadn’t seen any photos of them when they were young, but she doubted, with all the secrecy surrounding the affair, that there would be any of Ned and T together.
Easter had definitely brought many visitors to Cockleberry Bay. If she was honest, Rosa preferred the solitude of the bay out of season. However, low season didn’t sell Versace ties and pay the rent, so she would just have to embrace it - and it was actually quite nice to meet new people.
She tried to call Josh again but met with the same response. Maybe he had gone on a work trip overseas, but she was sure he would have mentioned it. If she hadn’t heard from him by this evening, Rosa decided she would call his office. She knew he was probably going through hell at home, but surely a friend was what he needed right now? She didn’t want to believe that Lucy was pregnant; nor did she want Josh to settle for someone who wasn’t right for him. The truth was, she could not bear for him not to be in her life, nor in her heart.
She was just picking up a ball that Hot had dropped at her feet, when she noticed commotion going on, up at the Ship. Holidaymakers looked on to as two police cars screeched into the car park of the old pub. The unmissable hair and teeth of Sheila Hannafore were then in full view as she was escorted out of the front door and into one of the waiting cars.
The arrest of the wily old publican was enough of a shock for Rosa, without then seeing Seb shooting down the outside fire escape at speed and making a run towards the beach. A policeman who had been sitting in one of the cars spotted him and leapt out in hot pursuit. Rosa just managed to jump out of the way as the breathless officer trod on Seb’s shoelace, causing the scruffy redhead to go flying over on to the sand.
Another uniformed policeman had now caught up and restrained Seb by cuffing his hands behind his back.
‘Sebastian Watkins, I’m arresting you on suspicion of the hit-and-run incident in which Miss Jasmine Simmonds was hurt, on the evening of twenty-third December last year. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be taken in evidence. Do you understand?’
Seb shook his head, as the policeman then shouted: ‘Do you understand, Watkins?’
‘Yes, now get me off this bloody beach.’ Seb snarled at Rosa: ‘And what are you fucking staring at?’
‘Nothing, nothing at all,’ she said calmly. ‘I thought I just saw a boomerang, that’s all.’
CHAPTER 60
Rosa put Hot on his lead and on her way back up the hill, she phoned Titch. ‘You can breathe again, darling girl, as it looks like Madame Hannafore and Wanker Watkins will be getting their comeuppance - and soon.’
She was just relaying what had happened, when she heard a call waiting in the background. ‘Titch, sorry to be so rude, but I’m going to buzz you back. I need to talk to Josh.’
But it wasn’t Josh. ‘Rosa, it’s Lucy,’ said an imperious voice. ‘Josh thinks it’s for the best he doesn’t come down and see you again.’
‘You what? I think he’d be man enough to tell me that himself, Lucy. And I don’t believe it anyway. Put him on.’ But Lucy hung up.
Rosa was now steaming with anger. She immediately phoned Josh’s mobile, which went straight through to answerphone again. She tried phoning his office but got his answerphone on that too. Why did nobody pick up their sodding landlines any more?
Titch managed to pacify her slightly by saying she knew it had nothing to do with Josh as their friendship was as strong as an ox - although she did think it was a bit odd that he wasn’t taking calls from her. ‘Look, go and see Mary,’ the girl suggested, ‘then call me and we will hatch a plan.’
The door to Seaspray Cottage was on the latch when Rosa arrived. Mary told her to come straight in and shut the door behind her. Rosa jumped, as she was expecting her to be up in bed and not in Queenie’s rocking chair in the kitchen.
Rosa smiled at her. ‘Hey, how are you feeling?’
‘As if I’ve had the air sucked out of me. But so much better than I was, dear.’
‘I thought you just had asthma?’
‘It’s a little bit worse than that, but I’ll manage. I should have had the right drugs here ready as I felt an attack coming on, but somehow I wasn’t in the right frame of mind. I was all over the place. I have them all now, so it’s panic over.’ She looked at Rosa’s hand and said, ‘Do you like it?’
‘Yes, it’s lovely. We need to talk, don’t we, Mary?’
‘After what just happened to me, yes, we do, Rosa. I have been kept in the dark far too often and for far too long, and I don’t want the same for you.’
Mary coughed and Rosa could see she was trembling. ‘Get us a nice cup of tea, dear,’ Mary said, ‘and come and sit down with me.’
The tea was brought, along with a couple of ginger biscuits for Mary to nibble on, and after a little while she was less shaky and ready to talk.
‘I was a new-born baby when Gran became my mum. That’s why she resented me at times. She was fifty, felt too old to bring up a young kid like me, but she didn’t have a choice. And every time she looked into my green eyes, she felt that she was looking into the eyes of her dear, lost daughter. She even chose my name, Mary, to be like my mother’s – Maria.’
‘Did you know your father?’
‘Yes, but when he got in his car to drive home from the hospital, the night my mum died, he had a blow-out in his car which led to a fatal accident. Well, that’s what Gran told me anyway. Perhaps he didn’t want to live, even though he now had a baby daughter - me.’ Mary’s lips quivered and she took a puff on her inhaler.
‘Oh my God, it gets worse.’ Rosa put a hand over her mouth in horror. ‘But what about Ned? He must have helped. He was Maria’s dad, after all, right? Tell me the truth, Mary, please.’
‘Yes, I did know that Ned was my grandad, but Gran didn’t want anyone to know that, as she was so ashamed of the affair. Queenie only gave me crumbs of information, but what I could gather is that after Dotty’s death, she went through a dark period of grieving, afflicted by feelings of guilt and regret. Being pregnant as well must have been just terrible for her.’ Mary looked at Rosa. ‘Until I found her suicide note the other day, you see, I didn’t realise Dotty had taken her own life. I thought it was an accident. No wonder Gran had been in such a state.’
Mary took another sup of tea then put her cup down. She turned to Rosa. ‘When I got older, I did used to talk to Grandad Ned; we spent many happy hours together, up on your little outside balcony. Gran carried on telling Ned that she didn’t love him any more and that Maria wasn’
t his child until the day he died. But he didn’t believe her. He knew, all right. Maria was the spit of him. He did everything in his power to be with Queenie, but she wouldn’t have it, so he would help in different ways. Practical ways, so she’d never want for money or repairs on this house.’
Mary concluded quietly, ‘They never had any other lovers, they just had their own special relationship. It was probably better than most conventional ones, in fact, as they both loved each other to the core. Queenie just couldn’t allow herself to love him openly, thanks to her guilt, even after the Cockleberry rumour mill had died its own death.’
‘That’s sad.’
‘Not really, because in a way they were still together; they just didn’t share a bed.’
‘But sad for Maria, not knowing her dad was Ned, don’t you think?’
‘He told me he treated my mother just like he would a daughter anyway, they loved each other, but when she died he said it was like a rocket blowing up both his and Queenie’s lives. But neither of them could give up or run away, as they had me to look after. Grandad Ned said I saved their souls. And, yes, fundamentally Queenie forever struggled without Maria, but I know deep down she loved me too.’ Mary’s voice cracked.
Rosa put her hand on hers. ‘She loved you fiercely, Mary. I could tell.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes. Truly, madly, deeply. I struggle to understand the feeling myself, but when I see it, I know it.’
Mary’s eyes were full of tears. ‘Ned left you the shop, Rosa,’ she said.
Rosa could feel a lump rising in her throat.
‘It was me who came into your flat - I kept the keys, you see. I tried to find the letters before you did. I can’t believe he hid them so well, but Queenie knew they’d be there. I also took the necklace.’
‘And what about the ring and the bronze statue? Was that you too?’
‘The statue of Hot was from Queenie and me, for your birthday, dear. We’ve been looking out for you, Rosa.’
‘The hit-and-run alibi? Sending me to Joe’s house?’
Mary nodded. ‘All of it. Queenie didn’t have eye problems, she wore the dark glasses in the house to make pretend her sight was bad, and the black scarf when she was out of it, so that people would not notice her. She wanted to be your ears and eyes when you arrived down here, so you wouldn’t be afraid.’
Tears were now running down Rosa’s face. ‘Tell me the rest, I have to know.’
‘I don’t drink because I am an alcoholic, Rosa. Gran was hard to live with, as I’ve explained, and I didn’t have a mother’s love. I just used to be a barfly in the Ship. So, one night, after a massive drunken row, about nothing in particular, I took some money out of the teapot where Queenie used to hide it, packed a small bag, then got on the train and went to live in London. Can you imagine how naïve I was? But I was twenty years old and always drunk, so I didn’t see danger - or if I did then, I would probably have welcomed it, to help dull the pain. I didn’t give a damn. All I cared about was where my next drink was coming from.’
Mary rocked back in her chair. Rosa blew her nose and carried on listening intently.
‘There were many drunken nights and many men. But one morning when I woke up in a bed in somebody’s bedsit, in what turned out to be Clapham, I was bleeding and sore between my legs. I was also so hungover I couldn’t move. I knew if I reported it, it would never stand up in court, as I didn’t even remember who the man was or if actually we’d had consenting sex. I also knew that I couldn’t put Queenie through anything else. She’d suffered enough.’
Mary heaved a sigh as she thought back on her life. ‘I didn’t even tell her or Ned that I was pregnant. I had the baby and got myself on benefits and in council accommodation. And even though I cut right down on alcohol through my pregnancy, and didn’t even fancy smoking, once I had the baby I started doing both, just like I’d done before. The health visitor had alerted social services: I was being monitored and I knew that.’
Mary took Rosa by the hands, her face contorted. ‘But one night, I got so drunk that I dropped my baby and she knocked her beautiful little face on the edge of the kitchen cupboard.’ The woman was now in floods of tears. ‘It only was a little knock, just enough to make her cheek bleed, just enough to form a scar in the shape of a perfect little lightning bolt.’
CHAPTER 61
Rosa knew people were staring at her tear-ravaged face when she got on the train at Exeter, but she didn’t care. She sneaked into a first-class compartment and placed Hot on the seat next to her in his basket.
Hours passed; she did not notice. Approaching London, the guy in the seat opposite gently nudged her arm. ‘We’re at Paddington, love.’
Rosa came to her senses with a jump, hurrying with Hot to the outside of the station as she could tell he was dying for a pee. She stared around her and took several deep breaths of the dirty London air, feeling overwhelmed by the noise and traffic after her months in Cockleberry Bay.
As soon as she had received confirmation that Mary Cobb was her mother, and had learned the circumstances of her conception, birth and early upbringing, Rosa just couldn’t cope with the tidal wave of feelings. She needed to get away, to try to absorb this revelation, and most urgently of all, she needed to share the news with the most important person in her life. Josh.
It was so bittersweet; her own birth mother was alive and well and she had become friends with her! It seemed so surreal. And how had Mary and Queenie traced her? There were still questions to be asked, but maybe now she knew enough. And even though part of the story was hard to bear, when Rosa thought of her lonely, motherless childhood, eventually, when the time was right, her mother and great-grandmother had come to find her, to put things right, the way they saw it.
It all made sense now, the reason why they hadn’t wanted her to sell the Corner Shop; it was a massive part of everyone’s life and they saw her inheriting it as mending some of the wrongs of the past. If Queenie hadn’t died, Rosa knew that Mary would have been forbidden to tell her the truth. But life doesn’t work like that, it’s all written. Rosa had to know who her mum was, she deserved that ultimate peace, so she could now carry on and live a happy and fulfilled life.
Ethel Beanacre’s head bobbed up from nowhere as Rosa knocked on Josh’s door.
‘Here, duck, where have you been all this long time, eh? And what are you doing here now?’ Hot started barking as their nosy ex-neighbour lowered her voice and carried on, ‘Your bloke has got hisself a fancy piece.’ The old lady screwed up her face. ‘Blonde tart, shrieks worse than you ever did when she’s drunk.’
‘Is that so? Oh well, I’ll just have to take my chances,’ Rosa replied politely, thinking, who needs the BBC when we’ve got you, eh, Ethel? She had lifted her hand to knock again, when Lucy opened the door. She immediately went to shut it in Rosa’s face.
‘What the fuck? Josh!’ Rosa shouted.
On hearing her voice, Josh came running to the door. Rosa threw herself into his arms, sobbing. Hot still on his lead, jumped up at both of them.
‘Mary . . . Mary,’ she wept, and couldn’t say any more.
Josh led her inside, away from Ethel’s inquisitive gaze. ‘It’s OK, Rosa, I’m here now. What’s happened?’
Just feeling the warmth of Josh’s hug and hearing his soothing voice made her feel safe and cared for.
‘M-m-m-Mary is my m-m-mum.’
‘Oh Rosa.’ He squeezed her tighter.
‘Ned was her grandad, Queenie’s lover. He left her the shop to leave to me. Ned was my great-grandad, Josh.’
‘Look, come through and sit down,’ Josh said tenderly. ‘Lucy, put the kettle on.’
‘Yes, Lucy put the kettle on,’ Rosa spat. She turned to Josh. ‘What’s all this about you not wanting to come and see me again down in Devon?’
Josh frowned. ‘I don’t know what you are talking about.’
‘I haven’t been able to call you eithe
r. I’ve tried loads of times and it goes straight to voicemail. I’ve texted you too.’
‘Here.’ Lucy went to grab his phone.
‘No.’ Rosa was swifter. She picked it up. ‘Let me.’ She looked at it for a moment and then said: ‘So you blocked my number on Josh’s phone, did you?’
Josh looked at Lucy in disbelief. ‘Did you?’
‘I thought it was women who were supposed to want a bit of rough?’ Lucy said spitefully and flounced towards the door.
‘What did you say?’ Josh stood up.
‘Well, she’s not exactly smooth around the edges, is she? And with no parents or family to mention either, what sort of moral code will she have?’
Rosa stood up. ‘I’ll have you know, my mother is worth ten of you - and do you know what? Maybe I haven’t got long blonde hair, false nails, false eyelashes, bits of filler in my lips OR false tits. But what I have got is a heart. And when you strip all of that other shit down, isn’t that what we are made of really? Everybody’s heart looks the same, Lucy, it’s just some are colder than others.’
Lucy stood open-mouthed.
‘And how’s the pregnancy going?’ Rosa demanded.
‘Er . . . I think I’d better . . .’
‘There is no pregnancy, is there?’ Rosa challenged her.
‘Lucy?’ Pale-faced, Josh went over to her and stared right into her eyes.
‘I didn’t want to lose you . . . to her.’ Lucy could hardly speak for anger.
‘So, you told me a blatant lie? About something that major?’ Josh was outraged. ‘I’ve been worried sick about this. About what we should do, moving forward - and it’s all been a complete and utter sham. Get out, you horrible person. Collect your things another time, but for now, just leave my house and get out of my sight.’
Her face ugly with rage and chagrin, Lucy grabbed her coat and handbag and without looking at either of them, went out and slammed the door behind her as hard as she possibly could.