The Beachcomber

by Josephine Cox

  He laughed. “I thought I did, but I was wrong. I see you now for what you really are. I’ve known for some time how you’ve been bailing her out … squandering my hard-earned money. Well, not anymore. I might be old, but I’m not completely senile. I’ve worked too long and hard to give it all away to two scheming parasites like you.”

  Clenching a fist, he shook it at them, his harsh words addressed to Irene. “From now on, I intend keeping a tight rein on every penny. If you want so much as a new pair of stockings, you’ll have to ask me. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  He pointed to Samantha who was cowering back. “As for your bone-idle offspring … she can work for what she wants, the same as I’ve had to do all these years.”

  He gave Irene a withering stare. “For the sake of appearance, I won’t see you on the street. You are my wife, after all.” His voice shook with anger. “Though, God knows, any other man would have you out the door with only the shirt on your back!”

  Ignoring her continuing pleas, he warned, “When I leave this house now, I intend going straight around to my solicitor.”

  Horrified, Irene grasped the implications. “No, Richard. Please! Don’t do anything reckless. We need to talk. I want to explain …”

  “The time for talking is over.” Smiling, he nodded. “But don’t worry, my dear. I’m not about to do anything “reckless.” In fact, I’ve already done that in marrying you.” His once-handsome features hardened. “But I’ll tell you this much: by the time I’ve finished, I’ll have my will so watertight that neither you nor your wasteful daughter will ever get your hands on a single penny. Not while I’m here on this earth, and not when I’m gone.” His smile was withering. “That much you can count on.”

  As he walked out, Irene ran after him. “No, Richard … give me time to explain. You misunderstood … Richard!”

  But he was already gone, and Irene was devastated.

  Behind her, Samantha’s thoughts were already turning to her sister, Kathy.

  CHAPTER 9

  KATHY LOVED HER new job. Even the boss was pleasant to work with, and though he saw himself as a bit of a Romeo, she managed to keep him at bay.

  “He fancies you, so he does!” The other woman who worked the desk with her was a red-haired, freckle-faced forty-year-old, an Irish lassie with an appetite for men and a way of detailing her previous flings with the same exuberance as Maggie. Her name was Rosie, and she had a laugh that would frighten horses. “I’ve seen the young rogue looking at yer arse,” she told Kathy with big eyes and a knowing wink. “I’d watch him if I were you.”

  Putting her finger to her lips, Kathy managed to quieten her. “He could be listening,” she warned softly. “You’ll get us both the sack.”

  Rosie laughed. “Ah, but he’ll never sack you!” she said confidently. “At least, not until he’s had his wicked way with ye.”

  Kathy chuckled. “If that’s the case, I’ll be working here till I’m old and gray.”

  Just then the young man in question walked by with the area manager, the two of them deep in conversation. Tall and lanky, he towered above his superior. “He’ll be kept busy today, so he will,” Rosie imparted. “That area manager is a right one. He wants everything just right, and woe betide anyone who steps out of line.”

  Kathy observed the two men: the site manager, tall and lanky, with slightly stooped shoulders, and his superior, a short, stocky man with piercing eyes. “He looks like a nasty piece of work,” Kathy whispered. “I wouldn’t want to get in his bad books.”

  Now, as they went out the door, the site manager turned to smile at Kathy, his small eyes crinkling until they almost disappeared into his head. As the cool September wind blew in through the open doorway, his flyaway, fair hair stood up on end, making him look as though he’d had a fright of sorts.

  “Sure, he looks like one o’ the little people.” Rosie stifled the giggles until he’d gone out the door. “Ah, now, how could you be making love to a man that looks like that?” She fell about at the thought of it. “Sure, you’d never be able to concentrate your mind.”

  As always, Rosie’s warped sense of humor had Kathy in stitches. “Rosie, you’re a wicked woman!” Kathy chided, but when Rosie started she laughed until the tears ran down her face.

  For the next two hours, they were kept busy. Being Saturday lunchtime, the holidaymakers were returning their keys and settling up before making their way back home.

  The first to arrive was Ray Clitheroe, a haggard, worn-out fellow in his late forties. “Another holiday over,” he groaned, “it’s back to work on Monday …!” After paying his dues, the big, homely man leaned toward Kathy. “Thank God, that’s what I say!”

  “What? You mean you haven’t enjoyed staying with us?” This was Kathy’s first encounter with him. “If you need to make a complaint I can pass it on.”

  Rosie’s interruption was timely. “Hello there, Ray,” she said with her best smile. “Glad to be off again, are ye? Sure, it surprises me you keep coming, when you always seem glad to get away. Anybody would think we didn’t look after ye, so they would.”

  He gave a surprisingly shy grin. “Now stop the teasing,” he told her sternly. “You know very well I can only stand so much of it.”

  Kathy thought it a peculiar conversation, until she heard someone outside yelling at the top of her voice, “For Gawd’s sake, Ray, get a move on. The kids are beginning to get restless.” That was his wife, a plump and shrew-like woman.

  “See you next year,” he cried, rushing out through the door to six clambering children, and a torrent of abuse from his wife, who propelled him toward where the children were climbing and fighting and causing mayhem. “Sort ’em out!” Having pushed him forward, she then retired to a safe distance and lit up her fag.

  “Ah, will ye look at the poor divil?” Rosie sighed. “It’s no wonder he’s glad to get back to work.”

  “I bet he was good-looking when he was younger.” Kathy had observed the strong physique and those bright blue eyes that in their time must have been able to charm a woman.

  “I dare say he was,” Rosie agreed. “His wife must have been goodlooking, too, before she went to seed.” Kathy looked again at the woman, with her lank brown hair and double chin, and she could see how, even now, after having had six children, there was something about her that might be described as pretty. “I think you’re right,” she said thoughtfully.

  “Oh, I am!” Right or wrong, Rosie always defended the female of the species. “And don’t forget, it were him who got her with children one after the other. So don’t you go wasting too much sympathy there.”

  The next person to return her keys was a woman of about thirty, a tarty peroxide blond, her face thick with make-up. “Sure, ye could scrape it off with a knife,” Rosie remarked as the woman went out the door. Luckily the woman didn’t hear, for if she had there would have been a stand-up scrap, as was her hot-tempered nature.

  There followed a trail of caravanners, families and single folks, and couples on a dirty weekend, all leaving a small tip for the counter clerks and all vowing to come back next year.

  “See them two?” Rosie gestured to a couple snogging in the doorway. “They’re both married to somebody else … having a naughty weekend away, so they are.”

  Kathy was intrigued. “How do you know that?” It seemed unlikely they would tell anyone.

  “Sure, they’ve been here before, when I used to clean out the caravans and chalets …” She preened herself. “That was before I got promoted to receptionist. Mind you, I had to do a bit of creeping, but I don’t mind that. You get out what you put in … if you know what I mean.” The look she gave spelled it out.

  Blushing deep crimson, Kathy had to smile. “I can’t think what you mean,” she remarked, feigning innocence.

  “Well, anyway … I were telling youse. I went off same as usual with my mop and bucket and all my cleaning paraphernalia. I usually started at number two and worked my way through t
o number eighteen, but on this particular day, number two had asked if I could leave it till later, on account of they wanted a lie-in. So, I started the other way round, and when I went merrily into number eighteen, thinking they’d already left for the day, I don’t mind telling you, I got the shock o’ my life, so I did!”

  “Why?” Kathy was all ears. She had come to love hearing Rosie’s accounts of the things that went on in the caravan park. “What happened?”

  Rosie lowered her voice. “I usually start in the bedroom and work my way out. So, as cool as ye please, I opened the door with my key and went in. I’d already heard all the grunting and groaning and never thought for a minute it were them … I imagined it were dogs fighting outside. Well, like I say, I opened the door, and they were that busy they never even heard me. Bold as brass, the two of them: him with his bare arse jiggling about in the air, and her spread-eagled on the bed underneath him. It’s enough to give a body the heart attack, so it is.”

  By now, Kathy couldn’t tear herself away. “Whatever did you do?”

  “At first I didn’t move … my eyes were glued on his arse … up and down, it went … up and down, like one of them horses on a merry-go-round. Then, just as I stepped backward, the floor creaked and he swung round.” She laughed out loud. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Sure, you’ve never seen a sight like it in all your life!”

  Kathy had conjured up the most vivid of images in her mind. “Then what?”

  “Well, he looked shocked and so did she, then he laughed and said, ‘Bloody hell, woman! For a minute I thought it were the wife!’ He then pointed to the woman who was wriggling to get out from under. “Worse still, it could have been her husband, and you wouldn’t want to mess with him, I can tell you.”

  “And did you leave then?” Kathy’s face was hot with embarrassment. She hoped she would never be put in such a predicament.

  “Well, I was about to … I mean, I apologized and groveled and said I didn’t realise, and he told me not to worry, but could I please go away and give them time to finish what they’d started.”

  Kathy’s eyes grew big with amazement. “You’re having me on!”

  “I’m not! I swear to God Almighty, that’s what he said. Well, I had to run outta there, because I could feel the laughter bubbling up inside me. Once outside, I laughed all the way to the stockroom. And do ye know how long it took them to surface?”

  “I daren’t guess.”

  “Two hours!” She chuckled at the memory. “They came into the storeroom and gave me a quid to keep my mouth shut. ‘Don’t let onto a soul what I told you,’ the man said, and I never have … until now.”

  After the last of the caravanners had gone, Kathy thought how fortunate she had been to land this job, with a workmate like Rosie. She couldn’t help but wonder if she would still be behind this desk next year. Or would she have moved onto pastures new? For now she was happy enough in her work; with Rosie working alongside her, making her laugh, the hours just seemed to rush by.

  “Right!” Rosie gave her a nudge. “That’s it for the day.”

  Making the last entry into the ledger, Kathy glanced up at the clock. It was pointing to midday. “My God! I didn’t realize it was that time!” Closing the ledger, she helped Rosie hang the many keys in their rightful place on the board.

  Just then, the weekend shift arrived to take over. “Fancy a drink before you get off?” At the minute, Rosie was without a man-friend and, as she had told Kathy many a time, her family was too far away for her to visit too often. “I’ve a thirst on me like a navvy,” she said. “Will ye join me in a little drink?”

  Going through the main bar, they ordered their drinks – a Bacardi for Rosie, and a long cool glass of orange for Kathy. “Look, I’m a bit short o’ cash,” Rosie began.

  “Don’t worry.” Kathy was used to Rosie’s excuses and, as always, she discreetly brushed it aside. “This is my treat.” The sad truth was that Rosie liked a drink too much. She’d be paid on a Friday and, after a wild night out in Weymouth, she’d have to scrimp and save for the whole week. But Kathy didn’t hold that against her. She knew all too well what it was like to be lonely, and if that was how Rosie coped, then it was nobody’s business but her own.

  When the drinks arrived, they carried them outside to the terrace. “It’s getting chilly.” Rosie took a great gulp of her drink. “Come September, there doesn’t seem to be the same warmth in the sun. Don’t ye think so, Kathy?”

  Glancing up at the drifting clouds, Kathy agreed, though, “I hope we haven’t seen the last of summer just yet,” she mused.

  Sitting there, lazily chatting with her new-found friend, Kathy thought she had never been happier. Now, as the clouds shifted and the sun struggled through, she looked across at the harbor and the people strolling by. An image of Tom suddenly came into her mind. She felt her face flush.

  “Penny for them?” Rosie’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

  Kathy apologized. “Sorry, Rosie. I was miles away.”

  “Huh! Sure, I could see that for myself.” She took a swig of her drink. “Was it your man ye were thinking of?”

  Kathy blushed again. “What man?”

  Rosie gave a wry little smile. “Ah, sure didn’t I see him walking you home from work the other night, and didn’t the stars sparkle in your eyes when you looked up at him?”

  Kathy laughed. “Nonsense!” she said firmly.

  “Ah well, we’ll see about that,” Rosie declared. “I’m just a born romantic, me.” Taking another swig of her drink, she asked, “So he’s not your man, then?”

  Kathy was slow to answer, because she wasn’t at all sure what she felt, never mind what his intentions were. “He doesn’t say much about the way he feels,” she said finally. “He hardly ever talks about himself, or his past. I’m not sure he views me as anything more than a friend.”

  “What do you feel about him?” Once Rosie had a drink inside her, there were no boundaries to what she might say. Besides, she had come to like Kathy a lot, and wanted her to be happy.

  Kathy thought. “I really like him,” she said, “but sometimes I wish I didn’t.” No sooner were the words out than she regretted them; she realized she did want to be more than his friend.

  “Have ye told him?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because there’s something about him … some private thing that makes me keep a distance. When we’re together I feel he needs to talk, but then he suddenly clams up and that’s that.”

  “He’s got troubles of a kind … is that what you’re saying?”

  “I’m not sure. All I know is, we have been alone on a few occasions, but sometimes he seems to be somewhere else … miles away. Yes, he does seem to be troubled about something, and though I feel he wants to discuss it, he doesn’t seem able to.”

  “Do you think he is keen on you?”

  Kathy smiled at the prospect. “Like I say, I’m really not sure.”

  “Why don’t ye ask him?”

  Kathy shook her head. “I can’t do that.”

  “Why not? You want to know where ye stand, don’t ye?”

  “Not if it frightens him off.” Leaning forward, Kathy said quietly, “Oh, Rosie! He seems such a special man, I’m afraid to spoil it.”

  Not wanting to step over that line between concern and interference, Rosie backed off. She could see how deeply Kathy felt about Tom.

  They both relaxed, drinking their drinks and, for a time, content to watch the world go by.

  While Rosie dreamed of love won and lost, Kathy thought about Tom and how he did seem haunted by something. But she never doubted his love for her, not really, because she sensed it every time he looked at her.

  Just then Rosie voiced what was on Kathy’s mind. “Is he married, d’ye think?”

  “I don’t think so.” Kathy was quick to answer. It was good to discuss it with Rosie, as long as she could be discreet. “I’m sure Jasper would have mentioned his wife
if he had one.”

  “Have you ever seen him with a woman?”

  “Never.”

  “Have ye been to his house?”

  “No.”

  Rosie thought on that for a minute before stating the obvious: “He could be hiding something.”

  “Such as what?” Kathy didn’t care much for this line of thought, but she had to admit to herself that all these things had already crossed her mind.

  “I wouldn’t know,” Rosie answered, “but if I were you, I’d find out before ye get too deep in love it breaks your heart.” She paused for a minute, her mind wandering back over the years. “I’ve been through all that, and I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.”

  “I know what you mean, Rosie,” Kathy replied quietly. “And I appreciate you worrying about me.” She had told Rosie that she was divorced, that Dan had left her, and she knew her new friend was looking out for her. She gave a whimsical smile. “But the truth is, I think about him when I go to sleep, and when I wake, and all day long he’s never far from my mind.”

  Rosie groaned. “Dear mother of God, you’re a lost cause, so ye are.”

  Kathy laughed. “Thanks for that!” Taking a long gulp of her drink, she then confided, “Jasper goes in Tom’s house often. He’d know if Tom was hiding anything.”

  “Is Jasper that old fella with the beard and whiskers … a kind of rough-looking Father Christmas?” Rosie asked.

  Kathy laughed. “He’s the one. The best friend a man could ever have, that’s what Tom says, and I agree with him.”

  Rosie nodded. “I’ve passed the time of day with him myself. He’s a lively old bloke … always ready to set the world to rights.” She was curious. “How well d’you know him, then?”

  “He just kind of turned up on my doorstep. He saw me there and we got talking. Apparently, he knew about my father and Liz. He helped me to get myself sorted out with the house and everything, and now he comes around often. It was Jasper who organized the outing to Weymouth the other week, you know, when Tom bought the sailing boat.” She’d told Rosie all about that special day.