Out of My Depth

by Gwenyth Clare Lynes

  “Just as you wish.”

  “Regrettably, Ryan’s friend got involved with the wrong side of the law mainly for helping himself to other people’s property and is currently residing in a Young Offenders Institute,” explained Adam quietly as they joined a group heading towards the church hall.

  “How unfortunate.”

  “Yes, this quiet little backwater, as you described us to P.C. Prettyman, has in recent times been shaken out of its lethargy by some disturbing events. Sadly, most have been attributed to Ryan’s friend, Josh and his father, Joe Cook.”

  “Really.”

  “Ryan is convinced Josh has been harshly treated, thinks the law has got it wrong, and so always jumps to Josh’s defence. But, let’s not spoil the euphoria of this day with sombre events from the past.”

  Within ten minutes they reached the open door of the church hall where the inviting aroma of brewing coffee and sizzling bacon tempted their taste buds and the buzz of animated chatter created a welcoming ambience.

  Adam introduced RK to his wife Laura who was helping to prepare the breakfast. She had woken up when the front door clicked as Adam and Daniel left the house despite their tiptoeing carefulness. Their daughters, too, had stirred soon afterwards so Laura dressed them warmly and bundled them outside but instead of walking down to the quay for the sunrise service she had pushed the buggy briskly up to the church hall with Kirsty running alongside to keep up with her pace. Laura was sorry to miss the Easter morning celebration but felt an extra pair of hands in the kitchen might be more useful. “It will also be warmer for the girls.”

  She was right on both counts. The warmth that greeted their entrance as Laura pushed open the church hall door confirmed that Peek, who held the combined roles of verger and sexton at St Andrews, had set the heating timer to come on early and the enthusiastic welcome Jilly gave on their arrival assured Laura she was most definitely needed. Now, she was ensuring that everyone who had come into the hall expecting breakfast had sufficient to eat. She paused in her busyness to flash a smile of welcome in response to Adam’s introduction to RK before he moved the visitor on.

  “And this is Penny Darnell, our Vicar’s wife.”

  “Welcome to our Church. What brings you to Newton Westerby?”

  “I needed a break from the demands of work. In a brochure I picked up in our local library the description of this place seemed to be just what I’m looking for.”

  “Well, I hope you’re not disappointed.”

  “I’m sure I won’t be. I can hardly wait to absorb the sleepiness and tranquillity of this place.”

  “Don’t let this morning’s peacefulness deceive you. Believe me, it’s not always this calm.”

  “Don’t disillusion me! This morning has been a fantastic start with that incredible sunrise, so unexpected. I’m really looking forward to rambling on the nearby ancient heaths and sauntering through tree-lined lanes where branches overhang with emerging buds. Most of all I’m hoping to feel the bracing sea breeze on my face and the crunch of sand and shingle beneath my feet.”

  “I’m glad you caught the sunrise. It is really special and spring is certainly the best time of the year. Everything is just coming to life. We do still have the occasional cold winds and high tides but that is to be expected on the east coast.”

  “It’s the thrill of this that truly makes me feel alive, will hopefully blow away a few cobwebs and send me home refreshed and thankful for the experience.”

  “I hope you find all you’re looking for.”

  “Excuse me.” Penny moved back to make space for Jilly Briggs who was carrying a tray laden with full breakfast plates.

  “Here we are. I hope you enjoy your meal.”

  As RK sat down and ate the delicious breakfast Jilly set upon the table conversation buzzed all around.

  “I think it would be impossible to be lonely or isolated here.”

  “Oh?” Adam looked at the visitor with his head askance.

  “Well, everyone seems to be included.” RK indicated, with a nod of the head, the lively discussions taking place further down the table.

  “Mmm, when villagers get together they chat and plan and catch up on news. You’ll overhear many interesting conversations.”

  Adam’s words were proved correct, before long RK learned that Dave and Jansy, the first of the villagers the biker met on arrival in the village, were soon to be married. Additional information, concerning the forthcoming nuptials, filtered across the tables between mouthfuls of breakfast.

  “Have you found somewhere to live?” Jansy was asked.

  “Not yet, we’ve been looking but so far unsuccessful in finding anything suitable.”

  “You’re cutting it a bit fine, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I suppose so, but none of the properties we’ve looked at, so far, seems right,” Jansy shook her head forlornly.

  “We’re going to have to reach a decision this week before I go back to sea,” Dave remarked decidedly.

  “Or they’ll be moving into your spare room at Green Pastures, Justin,” Emma, Jansy’s friend, joked. Laughter reverberated around the room.

  “I’m sure Mum won’t mind.”

  “No, nothing so cushy for you Jans, if you don’t soon make up your mind you’ll have to bunk down in Dave’s boat, in between the fish boxes,” further hilarity broke out as Stephen teased his sister.

  “Watch it, Bro, or you’ll be carrying the ring cushion down the aisle as page boy.”

  “Just don’t go to Matty for a new build you’ll end up with a shack around your ankles,” called a voice spitefully from across the room.

  Even RK, whose face had been wreathed in smiles at the thought of a six-foot young man dressed as a knickerbocker-clad attendant at a wedding, was startled by such a sombre warning. This Matty chap was obviously an unscrupulous ‘cowboy’ builder and someone to stay clear of.

  Further down the table arrangements for an Easter egg hunt for the children on Easter Monday were being discussed. An Easter bonnet parade and other activities scheduled for the Bank holiday were also being finalized.

  After breakfast Adam and Ben extended a warm invitation to the visitor to attend the Easter morning service to be held later that morning in the Newton Westerby Church.

  “I appreciate your kindness but I’m afraid I can’t accept.” If the villagers were disappointed by this refusal to attend what for them was the most significant service in the Church calendar they graciously did not show it.

  “I do need to find somewhere to stay for the night, though. Can you point me in the direction of a good B&B?”

  “The village is not over endowed with guest houses, hotels or B&B’s. We just have the Ship Inn on the quay or there’s Jenner’s Mill B&B at Marsh Newton. The only other available accommodation is to be found at the Station Hotel in Newton Lockesby.”

  “Thanks. I think as it’s close by I’ll opt for the Ship Inn,” said RK. However, as it was Easter all their rooms were taken. Undeterred RK rang the Station Hotel at Newton Lokesby but found they were similarly packed to capacity.

  As a last resort RK called Jenner’s Mill B&B. After much muffled discussion they hesitatingly offered to squeeze RK in somewhere, although they too, were fully booked.

  “But don’t come before 4 o’clock,” instructed a youthful voice at the other end of the phone. “It won’t be ready till then.”

  With relief RK accepted the accommodation unaware of the frenzied commotion the call had created.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Some while later RK sat in the crowded restaurant of the Ship Inn enjoying the recommended Sunday ‘roast of the day’ and, at the same time, unintentionally eavesdropping on local gossip.

  After leaving the church hall at breakfast time a brisk walk around the harbour and along the cliff top had generated a healthy appetite. The bright sun of the crisp, early morning now radiated springtime warmth so that RK felt a certain lift in spirits. Truth to tell, the feeling was a vast impr
ovement. The lingering deflation caused by the constant bickering at home seemed to hang like a black cloud over RK. The gloomy doldrums had prevailed for so long they had become the accepted norm. This holiday was an attempt to break the mould and re-establish an even balance to life.

  The crowd at breakfast seemed a good sort, too; welcoming and accepting, even though their hospitality had been grabbed with gratitude but the invitation to worship declined. Can’t get involved with that, however sincere they might be, RK grimaced, that would give Dad cause to read me the riot act and I don’t want to fuel further trouble.

  However, the Ship Inn was packed. The unexpected warm weather had brought out the world and his wife intent on making the most of the Bank holiday. The tables outside along the quayside were filled and the overspill had taken their drinks and bar meals on to the harbour wall and were sitting there enjoying them in the spring sunshine.

  Seats in the dining room proved scarce. RK’s height proffered a good view over the heads of the other diners but the dark hazel eyes scanned for an empty place setting without much success. A group of locals noticed RK’s dilemma and quickly moved chairs around to make a place available at their table which they offered to RK. Thus, squashed in to a space by the wall, RK was both captive audience and reluctant participant.

  “Hent sin yew around these parts afore.”

  “No, I’m just visiting.”

  “Yew the chap wi’ the noisy bike?”

  “Guilty as charged.”

  “Nice machine but it sure dew roar.”

  “Oh, do you think so?”

  “Doan’t like noise in these ’ere parts that int nat’ral.”

  “Oh?”

  “We lives peaceful like.”

  “Yup! The wind, the gulls, an’ the sea be noise enough for the likes of us,” agreed Peek, the verger.

  “I see.”

  “Some ’as ’ad other notions; like them Cooks.”

  “Joe revved that engine of ’is up and raced around like a mad man at times. We put up wi’ that but ’is thieven’ and violence be somethen’ a body can’t tol’rate.”

  “An’ Oi int gorn-a dew e’.”

  “Hope they locks ’em away for a pretty long time.”

  “Aah! They sure dew deserve it after what they did tew Nicky, an’ Vicar’s wife, an’ the Kemps.”

  “Careful, careful now, Joe an’ Josh hent bin charged with killen’ the Kemps, only the break-ins an’ the attacks on Mrs Darnell an’ Nicky.”

  “Aw, come on, if it wasn’t them who else could’ve done it?” Heads shook around the table.

  “Dunnoo!”

  “It’s Michelle, his wife, I feel sorry for. She be the one who ’as to bear the brunt of folk’s anger.”

  “The sooner they gets convicted for what ’appened to Mick and Val, Oi’ll be well pleased, better for all concerned.”

  “Hardly likely, though, be e’?”

  “What dew yew mean?”

  “Well, Josh ’as got two years in Hollesley an’ Joe be given four years for ’is part in the burglary and assaults, but yew see he’ll be out in two…”

  “So, what yew’re a-sayen’ be, if he’s convicted of the Kemps’ murder, he won’t be in prison for very long.”

  “Seems that way.”

  “They’s taken a mighty long time a-sorten’ e’ out.”

  “Well, they do ’ave to gather together all the evidence agin them.”

  “An’ make e’ stick!”

  The questioning of RK ended as conversation concerning the Cook duo’s presumed misdemeanours, pending trial and possible verdict, became heated and opinions flew rapidly up and down the table. It appeared that for a village where time usually stood still, and nothing much ever happened, a great deal had occurred during the last few months to upset the equilibrium of these villagers; burglary, theft, kidnapping, assault and possibly even murder. Although the diners differed in their views about how the culprits should be punished they were unanimous in their condemnation of the perpetrators whom they all believed to be father and son, Joe and Josh Cook, as Adam had intimated earlier in the morning.

  “Put up wi’ ’is behaviour long enough. Not no more.”

  “Yup, felt right sorry for ’im when ’e first lorst ’is job up the nucl’ar at Sizewell but ’is antics ’as gor out o’ hand.”

  “I ’ear young Matty Durrant be headen’ in the same direction if the gossips can be believed.”

  “Is that roite?”

  “Stands to reason shady dealen’s be bound to come to light eventually ’specially in the builden’ trade.”

  “Well, ’e’s met ’is match in Tessa Jenner. Chip off the old block, she be, and she won’t put up wi’ any ole squit.”

  “Matty’s brickies has put down tools, till it be sorted, an’ they be in a funny ole mess at the Mill.”

  “I understand Adam Catton’s boss be on the case an’ he’s a stickler for getten’ things right. If Mr Capps-Walker finds that Matty’s in the wrong he’ll throw the book at ’im, yew can be sure.”

  “No more than he deserves.”

  “Pity they can’t do the same over his moral behaviour. The way he spreads it around be roite sick’nen’.”

  “How Miranda can bear it Oi’ll niver know.”

  “It’s no wonder the poor girl’s gorn hum to her parents.”

  “But if Matty and Miranda be liven’ in different places and not see’en’ one another it’s hardly likely to be sorted, is it?”

  “S’pose yew be roite.”

  “Thass a tricky one, somethen’ like the problem a-tween Dave an’ Jansy Cooper.”

  “Hardly the same them’s be’en’ soo lovey dovey.”

  “Oh? From what I ’ear they don’t seem able to agree on where to live after they get wed.”

  “They don’t know when they be well off. Wish we’d had as many options open to us as they ’ave. We ’ad to settle for Sid’s Mum’s or mine till a place came up for rent. Not ideal but it was all we could afford and we were roite glad of it.”

  “Well, they’ve turned down Alex and Graeme Castleton’s lovely old cottage in the centre of the village.”

  “Oooh! What I’d give to ’ave the chance to live there instead of the damp ole dump we ’ave down the common!”

  “Even Lord Edmund’s spankingly renovated cottages on the far side of the estate ’as been refused.”

  “What dew she want? A palace?”

  “I’d ’eard it be a question of where it be.”

  “Where?”

  “Yup, town or coast, city or country?”

  “Well, of all things!”

  As discreetly as possible RK withdrew from the after dinner chatter and offered profuse thanks for their kindness.

  Just as RK was leaving the Ship Inn, thinking that it was an intriguing pattern people made of the tangled web of other people’s lives, another diner blocked the doorway. He deliberately jostled RK’s arm, spilling his own drink. “’Ere mate, watch it,” he said aggressively. “Unless you want E’s or crack,” he muttered between his teeth. Taken aback, RK murmured, “Sorry,” stepped warily round the unpleasant young man and quickly headed to the exit and fresh air without further incident.

  Once outside RK breathed a sigh of relief. Whoo! I really didn’t appreciate that encounter. Satiated with the delicious meal RK’s footsteps were inclined to dawdle as they closely followed the harbour path, the eye drawn by the movement on the water. With time to kill before being allowed into the B&B, it seemed the ideal moment to lean idly over the harbour wall and absorb the intense boating activity that was taking place.

  So much was going on yet, at the same time, it was peaceful. The yachts with billowing sails that appeared to dance to the rhythm of the breeze were fascinating and the motor boats and fishing trawlers seemed to glide effortlessly through the water. It presented a scene vastly different to the landscape of home. Even the noisy gulls added, rather than detracted, to the ambience. All very natural,
as Peek, the church verger had said.

  The afternoon sun grew even more intense as it travelled across the sky. It became too warm for motorcycling gear so RK removed the cumbersome leather jacket, slung it carelessly across the shoulders, and meandered towards the harbour master’s office. It was a quaint construction built on top of the harbour walls with lookout windows placed strategically over the water giving clear visibility across the harbour mouth towards the sea, as well as, boating activity up and down the river. Mixed tubs of daffodils, tulips and iris brightened the way in. The open door invited entry and a chance to chat with Titus Wills. So, ducking beneath the low beamed door lintel RK gained entrance and began to ask questions of the genial harbour master about customs, searches and the like, then enquired about smuggling opportunity and the incidence of illegal immigrants along this particular stretch of the coast.

  “Is the coast guard station manned 24/7?”

  “Somewhat,” replied Wills noncommittally looking askance at his questioner.

  “What causes the greatest problem, drink or drugs, or trafficking?”

  “Yew seems a might in’erested,” Titus stroked his beard thoughtfully and viewed the tall newcomer quizzically. He and Sergeant Catchpole had earlier in the day discussed their concern at the appearance of this stranger in the village. Most visitors came to enjoy the sandy beaches or the nature reserve and bird sanctuary. This visitor appeared to spend a lot of time watching boats and in view of the directives from their respective department heads regarding the increase of drug and people smuggling along the east coast they stepped up their vigilance if the actions of a stranger aroused any misgivings. Wills felt the tenor of the questions now being asked seemed to support their initial suspicions. He watched his visitor closely as the conversation developed.

  “Well, you hear so much on the news about these things but I don’t really know how it is actually dealt with so, being here, I thought I would ask,” explained RK.

  “New to these parts, be yew?”

  “Yes, I come from Lincolnshire.”

  “Aah! Bulb country.”

  This time it was RK’s turn to look surprised.