The Pearl Thief

by Fiona McIntosh

  ‘What?’

  ‘My business. It doesn’t affect anyone else. But I must confront him, or my wounds will never heal.’

  ‘Then stay brave and get back to London – are you within direct train distance?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘All right. Call me again in a few hours when you know what train you’re on and I’ll meet it.’

  She put the receiver back and returned to Otto. He was already rugged up in his coat, holding hers.

  ‘I’ve paid. I thought you might like some air, cold though it is.’ She nodded and he helped her on with her coat. ‘There’s a hotel at the top.’

  ‘The Victoria.’

  ‘How about a slow walk up the hill and we can share a farewell pot of tea. The sea looks as stormy as you do … might be a good idea for us to start making tracks.’

  They called out their thanks to the landlady and moved out into the narrow lane. Already the sea water was surging back in.

  ‘They said in the pub that the water will be in here, at street level, in the next day or two,’ he said. ‘Hard to believe, eh?’

  ‘I’ve seen it nearly hitting the steps in January.’

  He raised an eyebrow and with a gentle hand on her elbow guided their path back up the incline of the narrow King Street and past the post office in a tall Georgian building of the same toffee-coloured stone she’d admired earlier. The cobbles felt slippery as they passed the Men’s Institute on their left and the lights of the Dolphin pub halfway up were already glowing through its many panes of Georgian windows. They walked slowly, pausing at lookout points from tiny laneways of cottages. Time passed as Katerina showed Otto every inch that she could of this favourite holiday spot of hers. They deliberately did not mention Mayek, both presumably gathering their thoughts about him, about her dilemma, and the people around her who could be affected by his presence.

  ‘Down there is Bow Cottage … dates back to the early 1600s. It probably has a smuggler’s tunnel.’

  He gave a sad grin. ‘I must return some time.’

  ‘We’ll take you fossicking,’ she jested.

  Chimneys were smoking and she could hear people behind the houses busy in their coal scuttles, shovelling up the fuel to take indoors.

  ‘I like the smell of coal,’ she remarked, trying to keep her mind away from where it wanted to track.

  ‘It’s surprisingly pleasant in a … well, in an industrial sort of way,’ he said. ‘As you know, we tend to burn wood in Europe, so this is a novelty. Seems to burn longer, brighter.’

  ‘I prefer it. I stopped enjoying wood fires … I guess I can smell the forest too strongly in it.’

  He nodded, and she knew he was all too aware of what she meant. ‘Ah, nearly there,’ he said, looking up to see the Gothic structure of the Victoria Hotel looming ahead.

  ‘This is the worst bit, though,’ she admitted and shortened her stride to haul herself up the steepest part.

  ‘People must stay fit and healthy around here.’

  ‘Apart from coaldust in the lungs,’ she replied, just to keep talking about anything other than Mayek. It wouldn’t last. She could feel the questions about to burst out of the doctor but he was too wise to pressure her too quickly.

  The sprawling red-brick hulk of a building crouched atop the hill with sweeping panoramic views across the rocky beach. They arrived at its portico, breathing hard and uncomfortably warm given the pinch of cold at their cheeks. Katerina dragged off her scarf and unpinned her hair, convinced the low headache that was forming was because of how tightly she’d tied it back. She followed Otto into a corridor of busy tessellated tiles of black and tan, a mix of Grecian and geometric shapes that echoed their footsteps towards reception, which opened up to a soaring timber-clad ceiling. The accommodation was on two open levels with neat bannisters encasing them. She heard a door close distantly above.

  A man looked up from behind the counter. ‘Hello, folks. It’s getting colder out there … and darker. Welcome to the Victoria.’

  ‘Is your tearoom open or still closed until the start of summer?’ Katerina enquired.

  The person behind the desk smiled from beneath a series of blunderbuss rifles that were hung on the wall like trophies. Better than the dead animal they killed, Katerina thought, as the gentleman pointed to their right. ‘Of course … these days we’re always open. Just over there.’

  They retreated from the steep staircase of dark mahogany that angled its way through the levels, lit by oddly medieval-styled electric wall sconces. She suspected the old hotel had seen better days. It could use a designer with a keen knowledge of Victorian seaside properties to lend their services and return the establishment to its heyday of catering to the new railway station that welcomed thousands of holiday-makers.

  They found the tearoom deserted, save for an old couple who looked to be local and were preparing to leave. Starched table-cloths hung low over a mix of round and oblong tables. Otto led her across the scuffed and worn narrow floorboards towards one of the tables alongside the satin-papered walls of buttery cream. Tall sashed windows punctured the floral design of the wallpaper to let them glimpse the cliff dropping away sharply to the beach. A chandelier glimmered above the table he chose, as though they were the favoured guests. Katerina seated herself and gazed out past the reflection of the chandelier in the window onto the darkening scene as light failed over the dramatic curve of Robin Hood’s Bay and the tide began its inexorable sweep back into shore. It looked desolate, mirroring how she was feeling since speaking with Daniel.

  A waitress arrived. ‘Welcome to the Victoria.’

  ‘Er, thank you.’ Otto beamed. ‘I think just a pot of tea for two, please.’

  ‘Any cakes?’

  He glanced at Katerina and she shook her head. ‘No, thank you.’ After the waitress left, he remarked, ‘Tell me what happened with Daniel.’

  She told him as the light fell further around the bay and his expression darkened in tandem. Their pot of tea arrived and in traditional Yorkshire fashion it was – in her experience, anyway – hotter and stronger than the offerings of tearooms of the south. The steam from Otto’s cup as he lifted it reached in soft curlicues towards him and she watched his mouth, hidden behind his moustache and beard, pucker to sip with care.

  ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you,’ she said at his slight wince at the heat, doing her best to sound cavalier in spite of what she’d just explained.

  ‘I’m worried.’

  ‘Don’t be. I have Daniel. He won’t let anything happen.’

  ‘Well, you must promise me that you will keep him at your side. Or I refuse to leave you and then you’ll set up a world of new problems for me. However, I didn’t do what I did twenty years ago only to allow you to walk straight back into the clutches of the devil again – knowingly.’

  ‘I promise Daniel will be close.’

  He continued on his mind’s path. ‘As Mossad, he’s got unquestionable skills. He’s also got hardened colleagues who can —’

  ‘I know, Otto. He’s told me.’

  He nodded, indicating he’d said his piece. ‘And Edward?’

  She sighed, stirring her tea aimlessly. ‘What about him?’

  ‘Give him a chance.’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘Katerina. I mean, give a man a chance with you.’

  She glared at him. ‘I did.’

  His expression simmered; old angers were being allowed to surface. ‘Do you want to do this now?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I think we should.’ He spoke over her grimace and how she clattered the teaspoon into the saucer at the base of the cup. He reached for her hand, would not let her whip it away. ‘I am not the man for you. I never was. You were still a child, although I know a new teenager rarely sees herself that way. I was everything you needed in that terrifying period – someone in a position to and prepared to keep you safe at all costs … Perhaps it was an error to look at you with affection, but —’

 
‘I think you Germans don’t really understand what affection is, Otto. You never laid a hand on me,’ she accused him. ‘Hardly affection.’

  ‘That’s because I resisted, Katerina. Many times I wanted to hug you, to make you feel comforted by a show of endearment, but I could tell it was dangerous to the emerging young woman whose feelings were far too vulnerable. You wore them so openly that I’d need to be a dullard not to recognise you were developing a fondness that was unhealthy and downright dangerous to me given our ages.’ Now their eyes held each other to account. ‘So I had to love you in the right way … from the appropriate distance and with a fatherly attitude. You were too young and inexperienced to even know how to handle the emotions you were coping with and you were injured, damaged, traumatised. A single touch from me could have given all the wrong signals to a frightened, impressionable teenager. But you’re no longer that girl and it is surely time to let a man of the present into your orbit – not a dream of the past – who can give you a real life. What you have – even though you tell yourself it’s enough – is not enough. You deserve to be loved, you deserve to be cherished as a woman, not only as a m—’

  ‘Stop it,’ she said, not much above a whispered whimper. ‘Please, don’t.’

  He sighed. ‘I love you, Katerina Kassowicz, as my dearest friend, as a daughter, as a woman I am so proud of. Never wonder about that … just not —’

  ‘I know.’

  He released her hand so she could find her handkerchief.

  ‘I’m sorry to make you cry.’

  She shook her head.

  ‘I’ve wanted to say that year upon year but I dared not write it down … it would have come across harshly on paper.’

  It did hurt to hear it but it resonated with all that she knew in her heart. ‘These are old tears, I promise. I won’t ever stop loving you, Otto, but I want you to feel safe that it’s an old candle and the flame never goes out. It doesn’t burn fiery … it just … you know, makes me feel safe … a comfy blanket. I’m sure every woman looks back fondly to her first crush of teenage years.’

  He smiled sadly. ‘But what you’ve surely done with that blanket in the meantime is tuck it so firmly around you as to not allow anyone to – how shall I say this?’

  ‘Share my blanketed bed?’ She dredged up a smile for him.

  He gave a sad gust of brief amusement. ‘My point is, Mayek took so much from you and you’re in grave danger of allowing him to steal your potential future happiness … but only if you let him. There are good men – perhaps Edward Summerbee – who can show you a new life that doesn’t let go of the old but embraces a fresh future.’ He waited, clearly not wanting to lecture.

  ‘I have no intention of letting Ruda Mayek have any more of me than he already has. His time of reckoning is here.’

  She could see that Otto wanted to ask what she meant by that but she distracted him by suddenly gathering up her things.

  ‘What time is your train? I’m presuming you came by rail into Robin Hood’s Bay?’

  ‘Didn’t you?’

  She shook her head. ‘I drove up from York. I wanted to enjoy the moorland. But it’s getting on, so we’d best be on our way.’

  ‘Are you taking the train home this evening?’

  ‘I’m booked for the first one tomorrow.’ She checked in her purse. ‘Yes, I leave at the ghastly time of seven in the morning. But it doesn’t stop everywhere. I should be in London by around ten. And you?’

  ‘Mine’s at four. It’s just a few minutes from here.’

  ‘It’s on my way and then you won’t have to hurry. I could drive you to York, you know?’

  ‘No, I want to connect through to Durham this evening.’

  Otto wouldn’t hear of her paying for the tea and as they left the hotel he handed her another palm-full of change. ‘For when you call Daniel at York railway station as promised.’ He covered her fingers over the money. ‘Don’t fail to do so.’

  She nodded and pointed towards where the Morris Minor was parked.

  ‘Why does such a tiny place have such an impressive train station?’ he said just a minute or so later when they clambered out in front of the grand building.

  She grinned and shrugged. ‘I think it had a royal visitor back in its day … and this whole region in the previous century was incredibly popular with Victorian daytrippers and holiday-makers; they needed all this to cope with the new visitor traffic to Scarborough, Whitby, even here.’ She glanced at her wristwatch. ‘Come on. You’ve got just under ten minutes.’

  They spotted the senior couple from the Victoria Hotel huddled in the waiting room; they had obviously made a day trip into the region.

  ‘Let’s go onto the platform,’ Otto said.

  They emerged into a new fresh breeze picking up. Katerina could taste the salt riding on it from the coast. It made her think of tears and how this may be the last time she saw Otto for the next score of years.

  ‘Shall we try and not avoid each other, Otto? I promise you it’s not dangerous to be in the same city … the same room as me.’

  His forehead creased in thought, no doubt pleased that the difficult conversation they’d always avoided had now been shared and a firm line drawn, invisibly and yet as clear as the two of them standing there on the frigid platform. ‘Why not? Maybe it’s your turn to come to Salzburg? Bring Mr Summerbee.’

  She gave him a sighing smile. ‘Then invite me properly. I’d like to meet your family. I feel I know them, although Lili is a surprise.’

  ‘Next summer. Come and meet everyone.’

  She hugged him, long and hard, savouring it but realising something had changed. The awkward conversation had shifted the fragile balance and she suspected their correspondence would take a newer, hopefully easier tone. Deep down, though, she suspected she’d miss the tension of Otto’s normally carefully chosen words, looking for the subtext, feeling like their letters were secrets.

  ‘Will you definitely go to Durham?’

  He nodded.

  ‘I’m glad. Maybe we’ll all come next year; Milena too! She may not love the beard either but for what it’s worth, I do.’

  He chuckled into his scarf. ‘I won’t shave it before you come. You’re all welcome.’ The distant scream of a train and the rails below sounding their metal vibration pierced their cosiness. ‘Well, I need to know what’s happening, so I’m going to insist you not only call Daniel but you call me too. I shall be home by the day after tomorrow. Will you do that?’

  His question was lost momentarily, engulfed by the steam that billowed around them as the train drew in with all of its noisy bluster, bringing with it the smell of coal, iron and an industrial age that was fast disappearing.

  ‘These won’t last,’ he said, admiring the huge engine dragging squealing carriages.

  She shook her head. ‘There’s talk of rationalisation. I doubt this line will survive it. Look, there’s only three of you getting on and the train is already empty.’

  ‘Pity,’ he replied. ‘But then sometimes letting go of the past is for the best,’ he added, looking deep into her face.

  She saw the grey in his beard; he was superbly handsome but he was moving into his seventh decade. Yes, it was the right moment for her to let her childish crush go. ‘I hear you, Otto,’ she said.

  He pulled her close and was still tall enough to kiss the top of her head but then he kissed both of her cheeks gently. ‘You make me very proud.’

  Her eyes misted again as he turned away to board, wrenching open the heavy door. She waited until he found a seat, removed his hat and coat and reappeared at the door to let down the window.

  ‘Katerina, I’m not sure why you brought me here. I’m glad that you did, but I can’t tell if I’ve been any help to you.’

  She reached up to hold his hand and held it close to her cheek. ‘Just seeing you has reassured me, made me feel strong again.’

  ‘Promise me you’ll stay safe.’

  She nodded. ‘I promise.’r />
  ‘Don’t let Mayek get anywhere close to you,’ he warned.

  ‘I’m going to take his power away, Otto.’

  He frowned, looking suddenly frightened. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘No more running. I think I know how to finish him.’

  The guard blew his whistle and it was too late for Otto to do much more than stare at her with terrified regret.

  ‘Katerina!’ The train wheels turned, metal screeching against metal. A billow of steam blew back as the iron serpent rolled forward.

  ‘I’ll phone you when it’s done!’ she cried into the noise and the vapours.

  Calling him had been an uncharacteristic and panicked reaction to being stonewalled. If she’d given herself a day, she might have reached this same decision and dear Otto would not have needed to make a mercy dash. And yet perhaps it was because of him; the emotion of seeing him, having his balanced view, just clearing her head with a Yorkshire gale, maybe, had given her clarity … given her direction.

  She would explain to him when it was over that he had made a difference by coming, but for now she watched with guilt as Otto was drawn away unhappily and she waited until the final carriage disappeared from sight.

  Yes. She knew now exactly what she was going to do.

  28

  HAMPSTEAD

  While Katerina was navigating a rocky beach in England’s north, Edward Summerbee was walking from Hampstead Station towards a grocery store that he hoped still existed at the address he had been given. Relief and excitement trilled through him as he stepped into the corner shop. The bell jangled above him and the floorboards sighed an aged creak as he stepped aside to hold the door for an older woman bustling out with a leather trolley rolling on a slightly wonky wheel behind her.

  ‘May I help you with that?’

  ‘Thank you, young man,’ she said, not noticing his chuffed grin, and allowed him to pick up the trolley and place it on the pavement for her. ‘You look a bit posh to be from around here.’

  ‘Just down from the city for a few hours … er, visiting my aunty,’ he lied and then instantly regretted it to see her frown forming the next inevitable query about who that might be. He lifted his hat – ‘Good afternoon, madam’ – and hastened into the shop.