‘Melissa and I lived in Antibes at the time and I’d gone along to take some photos for a magazine feature, ‘Everyday Life on the Riviera’. Melissa hadn’t wanted to come. That evening, one of the photographs I took was of a small girl and her mother happily eating ice creams and laughing together.’ Guy stopped speaking for several seconds.
‘The mother asked me if I ever did family group portraits. Said she had a ten-month-old baby at home and wanted a professional family group photograph. Gave me her email address.’ His voice broke. ‘Six hours later I saw them again. Lying on the Promenade des Anglais. The mother was curled around her little girl protectively. Both were dead.’
Tears ran unchecked down Karen’s face as she listened to Guy. His cheeks, too, glistened with tears as he said, ‘I’ve seen some terrible sights, taken some horrific pictures reporting from various warzones around the world, but the sight of that innocent little girl and her mother lying dead in a so-called civilised town in Western Europe was more than I could bear.’
He rubbed his eyes before continuing. ‘Things changed for me that night in a big way. It’s one of the reasons I don’t carry my camera with me everywhere now. I don’t want to record things like that.’
‘The awful thing, too, is innocent children everywhere are continuing to be killed. Collectively the human race seems to be losing its way right now and, although there are still millions of good people out there trying to help, it’s hard to know how to,’ Karen said, wondering if Guy was aware he was still holding her hand. ‘And Melissa? I bet she was frantic with worry about you before you got home.’
Guy gave a short, bitter laugh. ‘Don’t think so. I got back to find a note propped against the coffee machine. She’d left me that afternoon to go to Paris. She’d been having an affair with my mate Hugo and had decided she’d rather be with him than me.’
Guy turned slightly to look at Karen. ‘And d’you know what? After the evening’s traumatic events, at that moment, I didn’t give a damn. It was so insignificant an event in the scheme of things.’
‘And how d’you feel now, all these months later?’ Karen asked quietly.
Guy smothered a sigh. ‘I was fine with it, until recently when the goalposts were moved yet again. Melissa is good at doing that but I’m hoping things are sorted now. Anyway, enough about me and my problems. Now you know the cottages are safe, are you going ahead with your boutique B&B idea?’
Realising Guy was moving the subject away from the state of his marriage, Karen couldn’t help wondering just how the goalposts had been changed. She nodded. ‘Yes. The more I think about it the more I realise I want to do it.’
‘When you’re ready I’d be happy to do brochure photos for you,’ Guy said.
‘Are you sure? I mean, it would be great if you’re happy to take photos again, but will you still be around at the end of the season?’
‘My plans are totally fluid so I can be wherever I want from now on.’ As he spoke Guy raised her hand and tightened his grasp on it, all the time looking at her.
‘Well, isn’t this cosy?’
Startled, Karen pulled her hand away from Guy’s and jumped to her feet. ‘Derek. When did you get here? You didn’t say you were coming today.’
‘You going to introduce me?’
‘Guy, meet my husband. Guy’s an old friend,’ she said.
Derek, ignoring Guy’s proffered hand and his polite ‘Pleased to meet you’, stared at him without speaking before turning to Karen.
‘We need to talk. Get rid of him and I’ll see you indoors.’ He turned and walked away.
Karen, shaken, sat back down on the arbour seat. Guy, concerned, looked at her.
‘You okay?’
‘Yes, just a bit surprised. I wasn’t expecting him until next week. I’m sorry he was so rude to you.’ Karen hesitated before saying quietly, ‘Could you find Wills and Francesca and tell them Derek is here, please? Oh, you might tell Chris too.’
If Derek was going to be difficult and make trouble, she could do with some support from the family.
*
After Guy left, a shaken Karen made her way slowly indoors, trying to compose her thoughts, and herself, for the inevitable showdown waiting for her inside.
Furious with Derek on account of his rude attitude to both herself and Guy, she knew better than to go in all guns blazing. He would just bait her and take zero notice of what she said. But she had to find the strength to stand up to him and fight for what she wanted.
Derek was waiting in the sitting room, a balloon glass of brandy in his hand, the bottle and another glass on the table within easy reach. He only ever drank brandy when seriously stressed and Karen eyed him warily as she sat on the window seat.
‘Bit early for that isn’t it?’ She hadn’t even realised there was a bottle of brandy in the house. He must have rifled through the kitchen cupboard where she kept a few spare bottles of wine in the hope of finding something stronger.
‘Not from where I’m sitting. Better pour yourself one. When you hear my news you’ll need one too.’
Karen shook her head.
‘Suit yourself.’ Derek swallowed a mouthful. Karen looked at him carefully. Since his last visit he’d visibly aged. New lines were etched in his forehead and his face had acquired a greyish tinge.
‘What are you doing here, Derek?’
‘I’m taking my annual holiday in my wife’s oh-so-beautiful house. The house that could possibly save my skin – if she wanted it to, of course.’
‘You want me to sell this house and bail you out? Why now? Are we in financial difficulty?’ Karen said. ‘I’ll rephrase that. Are you having financial problems and want me to help you out?’
‘Got it in one. But not likely to happen, is it?’
‘No,’ Karen said. ‘I can’t sell it.’
‘Won’t, you mean.’
Karen inclined her head in acknowledgement of his words. ‘That too. What about our home, the one that’s already on the market?’
‘Had an offer on it two days ago,’ Derek said.
‘Was it a good one?’
‘Knocked ten thou off the asking price. Told ’em I’d knock two off, no more.’ He shrugged. ‘Still waiting to hear back.’ He drained his glass and stared morosely at it.
‘Have you found somewhere you want to buy?’
‘Not looking.’
‘Why not?’ Karen said, surprised. ‘I thought the whole idea was to buy something smaller. Get rid of the mortgage once and for all.’
‘Because, you stupid bint, there won’t be any money.’ Derek’s voice was harsh as he stared at her.
Karen froze. ‘That can’t be right.’ Both sets of parents had helped with the deposit for the house years ago, and over the years their mortgage payments had gone down – as the value of the house had risen. She was ninety-nine per cent certain that there was very little in the way of an outstanding mortgage on the place.
‘There’s a lot of equity in the house.’
‘Not any more there isn’t,’ Derek said. ‘By the time the bank have had their money, it will be all gone.’ He waved his empty glass in the air. ‘All… gone.’
‘The mortgage wasn’t with the bank.’
‘No, but the credit cards I’ve been juggling with are and the loan I took out against the house is.’ He reached for the bottle of brandy but Karen snatched it up first.
‘No more until you’ve told me exactly what’s going on. And don’t call me names.’
‘I’ve overextended. Or, put another way – I’m broke. No assets, no money. Selling the house will clear everything but leave me with nothing. Oh, and you, of course. From my point of view, though, if you are planning on divorcing me, now would be a good time to do it, because what I haven’t got, you can’t have.’
Derek stared at her. ‘You are planning on divorcing me, aren’t you? That’s what you wanted to talk to me about? You might as well – it’s been a marriage in name only for a long time now.’
‘And whose fault is that?’ Karen said. ‘And don’t lay the blame on me – I wasn’t the one spending money on other women.’
‘Woman,’ Derek corrected her. ‘That’s finished too now. Didn’t like the idea of me being poor.’
‘So you’ve lost all our money and more, plus our family home, all for a fancy woman who’s now tossed you out. Nice one, Derek. How are you planning on telling Wills and Francesca?’
Derek shrugged. ‘Think they’ve already guessed something’s up.’
‘Whether they have or not, they deserve to hear the truth from you.’
‘Something I’d be interested in hearing too,’ Chris said, walking into the room. ‘But personally I think you’re such a stranger to the truth in any shape or form we’re unlikely to hear it. You were born a philanderer and a liar.’
‘Talking of philandering – ask your sister what she was getting up to out in the garden when I arrived. Cosying up to some bloke.’
Chris glanced at Karen. ‘Guy?’ When she nodded he turned back to Derek.
‘Guy is an old family friend. I doubt very much my sister was cosying up to him, as you put it. Right now he’s in need of sympathy and help, which is what Karen would have been offering.’
Karen glanced at her brother. Had Guy confided in him about the traumas in his life?
‘Not offering it to me, her husband, though,’ Derek said.
‘I think over the years she’s given you more than you deserve. I for one am glad she’s finally come to her senses and is going to kick you out.’ Chris turned to look at Karen. ‘You are going to kick him out, aren’t you? Please don’t tell me you’re going to go all little woman on us and forgive him yet again?’
Karen shook her head as she stood up. ‘No, I can’t take any more.’ She turned to Derek. ‘You’ll speak to Francesca and Wills, tell them what you’ve done, and then you’ll go, okay?’
Derek shook his head and waved his brandy glass at her. ‘Afraid I’m not going anywhere today. Don’t want to get caught drink-driving.’
‘Never bothered you before,’ Karen said. ‘I’ll go and find the children, then I’ll make up the boxroom for you. There’s no way I’m having you in my room tonight. First thing in the morning you’ll leave. I’ll file for divorce as soon as summer is over.’
*
Bruce stood on his terrace looking out to sea in puzzlement. The sun was setting but where was everyone? Usually, the sundowner after the AGM this first Sunday in August was more like a neighbourhood street party than anything else. It was an unwritten rule: after the meeting everyone picked up a bottle of something, a plate of nibbles and wandered along to Bruce’s. It had happened for more years than he cared to remember really. But this evening – nobody.
Taking Girly for her evening walk, he’d seen Derek’s car parked alongside Karen’s. Strange that even Derek hadn’t put in an appearance. He could usually be relied on to turn up wherever there was drink. The way Karen had been talking recently, maybe it was showdown time in The Captain’s House. Bruce sighed.
Thank goodness he and Gabby had had such a strong marriage and had always talked things through. Not that they’d ever had the problems Karen was experiencing; still, they’d had to weather some difficult times like most couples. But they’d survived and grown close through it all.
He could hear the youngsters, Wills, Francesca, Tia, with a couple of Wills’ friends from the village, down by the pool, larking about. Charlie and Guy were sitting on the front steps of No. 3, beer bottles in hand, and Charlie appeared to be saying something serious to Guy. They were both so engrossed in their conversation Bruce didn’t like to disturb them.
Another ten minutes and he’d lower the flag. Maybe it was time for flying the flag every day to stop. When Gabby had instigated it during their first summer of owning the cottage all those years ago, apart from the socialising, which she adored, she’d wanted to create a sense of community and continuity around the old cottages. Now she was gone, had the idea of community died with her? Bruce acknowledged to himself, his summers would never be the same again.
‘What d’you think, Girly?’ Bruce said, fondling the dog’s ears. ‘Time to call a halt?’ Girly leant in against his leg, her brown eyes regarding him steadily while Bruce came to a decision.
After dealing with Gabby’s ashes, he’d tell everyone that, from now on, summer sundowners would be once a week on Sunday evening. And then perhaps next summer he’d quietly drop them altogether. It would be a shame never to use the flagpole ever again so he’d still fly the occasional flag for special occasions but that would be all.
‘Where is everyone tonight?’ He jumped as Guy’s voice broke into his thoughts.
‘Busy with other things, I expect,’ Bruce said, turning to face him. ‘I was about to lower the flag on my own.’
‘Charlie will be here in a moment. No sign of Karen, though?’
‘No. Derek’s here so I expect they have things to discuss.’ Not sure how much Karen had told Guy, Bruce didn’t say anything else.
‘I met him earlier. He was spoiling for a fight when he arrived. I hope Chris is there to support her.’ Guy hesitated. ‘He strikes me as a real piece of work.’
‘Has Karen spoken to you about him?’ Bruce said.
‘A bit. She’s hinted at problems, saying she needs to sort her head out.’
Bruce nodded. ‘She used to talk to Gabby. Things haven’t been good for a few years.’
‘He’s not violent, is he?’
‘Not physically, but mentally I think he can be cruel. Ah, here come Simon and Hazel. And Charlie too. I’ll fetch the nibbles and then we can lower the flag.’
Week Two
Awake early, after a surprisingly good night’s sleep, Karen made her way downstairs to the kitchen and switched the coffee machine on. Five minutes later, sitting out on the terrace listening to the dawn chorus, she began to try putting some perspective into what had happened the evening before.
She’d found Wills and Francesca down by the pool and told them Derek wanted to talk to them. An hour later a subdued Francesca had found her curled up in the wooden arbour.
‘Oh Mum, I can’t believe he’s been so stupid. He seems to have thrown you, us, away without a single thought. What are you going to do? Is there really no money?’
‘Your father has done a good job making sure of that. As for me, I have something I’m thinking about.’
‘But it’s not fair at your age.’
‘Hey, less of the age thing. I’m not decrepit,’ Karen protested. ‘It’s not something I’d volunteered for but lots of people have to reinvent themselves in midlife. It’ll be a challenge.’
Wills had joined them then and given Karen a big hug. When he called his father a ‘thieving bastard’ she’d looked at him but didn’t say anything.
‘He is, Mum, you can’t deny it.’
‘Maybe not but there’s very little point in name-calling.’
Karen decided against telling them about her tentative plans. She’d do that when Derek had left. The three of them had sat there together for a while until Wills had said he was going down to the village pub, and Francesca went back to the pool. When Karen went indoors there was no sign of Derek and she’d tidied up and gone to bed. Passing the small bedroom off the landing, she was relieved to hear loud snores. At least she didn’t have to face Derek again until the morning.
Sitting out on the terrace now as the morning sky lightened and the sun rose, Karen’s thoughts were centred again on what the future might hold. What was likely to happen, how she’d cope, and importantly, whether she’d be able to earn enough money to live on. Wills and Francesca’s reaction to the idea of turning The Captain’s House into an upmarket B&B would be important too. If they disliked the idea, then she’d have to think again, but the more she thought about it, the more excited she got about actually putting the plan into action.
As for divorcing Derek, she wouldn’t wait for the summer to
be over to file for divorce. Initially she’d decided to wait until she returned home and use a solicitor from there, but if she was making this place home, it made more sense to use a local solicitor. The next time she went to town she’d set things in motion.
With that decision made, she returned to the kitchen and set about preparing breakfast for everyone. By the time Chris appeared, the smell of baking bread was filling the kitchen and freshly made croissants were in the basket waiting to be slathered with her homemade marmalade.
‘He’s not shown his face yet then?’ Chris said as Karen placed a cafetiere and mug on the table in front of him. She shook her head.
‘Bacon and eggs?’
‘Thanks.’ Chris hesitated. ‘Sis, are you okay? I mean really okay? If you need money or anything while this mess is sorted, you know you’ve only to ask. And there’s always a room for you at ours.’
‘I’m fine. This place gives me a roof over my head. But thank you. I haven’t told the children yet but I’m planning on turning the house into a boutique B&B. Too late for this year but hopefully by next Easter I can be up and running.’
‘Being selfish – what happens when family and friends want to visit?’
‘Initially I’ll only let out two, maybe three rooms, so there will always be a room spare for family and friends.’
‘In that case, go for it.’
‘Of course I might end up having to get a “proper job” down in town,’ Karen said. ‘But I hope not.’
‘Give me a shout and some brochures when you’re ready and I’ll spread the word at work.’ Chris hesitated for a second. ‘I have to ask – were you cosying up to Guy last night as Derek insinuated?’
Karen could feel herself blushing as she looked at her brother. ‘He was holding my hand, that’s all. I do still like him, you know. But we are both married – for the moment.’
‘Be careful. If Derek realises how you feel, he’ll make trouble,’ Chris said. ‘Let’s hope it works out this time – thirty years too late but there you go!’
Wills and Francesca arrived then and for the next ten minutes or so Karen was kept busy cooking bacon and eggs. Sandra was the last to arrive and Karen poached herself an egg when she did Sandra’s.
Summer at Coastguard Cottages Page 14