The Beachcomber

by Josephine Cox

  She turned her eyes upward to the little circles that jutted out like eyelids, and the long red curtains at the exit doors, and finally at the big, wide screen that sat like a king on its own stage. “One day, I’ll be up there,” she murmured, “when some talent scout spots me and sees what I’m worth.” Sadly, Maggie’s unfulfilled dreams were many and varied. With that she threw open the doors, where already the customers waited to be let in. With as much pleasure as she could muster she led them two by two along the aisle to their seats.

  She shone her torch for them to see their way through the dimly lit cinema, seating them and smiling sweetly before making her way back to the doors. “So far so good,” she muttered through gritted teeth.

  It was only when a rather large woman arrived with two children that the smile faded; it was the very same woman who had complained to the manager. Now, on seeing Maggie, she warned in a shrill voice, “Don’t you start on me!” Thrusting her two children behind her, she waited for Maggie to retaliate.

  When, instead, Maggie smiled at her, the poor woman was flustered and confused. Grabbing the children, she hurried to their seats, where she sat silent, occasionally peeping at Maggie and thinking she must have had a telling-off, or why would she be so nice? Whatever the reason, it was unnerving.

  For the first half of the new horror film, The Ghost Ship, everything went well. There were a few screams from the front when the young couple began hearing strange noises, but that was only to be expected; even Maggie had a scary moment. It wasn’t long before half the people in the cinema were yelling for the heroes to “Get out of there!”

  Otherwise it seemed quiet enough; until a particularly creepy moment caused a young girl to scream in terror. That set off everybody else, and somewhere at the front a child started crying. Then an argument broke out; Maggie, with torch at the ready, set off to investigate.

  When she got there, it wasn’t the children causing the trouble. It was a frail old woman and a burly hunk of a man, who by the time she got there were already in the throes of a heated argument. “She attacked me with her stick!” The big man was leaning threateningly over the woman’s seat in front. “I’m not taking that from nobody, least of all a senile old busybody!”

  The words were hardly out of his mouth when the woman upped with her stick and cracked him neatly on the head. All hell broke loose.

  To her credit, Maggie did manage to calm them down, while from the adjoining rows there were shouts of “Shut up!” and “Sit down!” There was even a call to “Fetch the manager!”

  While the big man was willing to forget the aggravation, the elderly woman was not. “I want him thrown out,” she demanded. “He’s been kicking me in the back of my chair. I warned him time and again to sit still, but he wouldn’t. Every time something happened in the film, he kicked me again.” In spite of Maggie’s surprisingly calm attempts, she would not settle. In fact, while Maggie was pleading with the man, the old biddy raised her stick and gave him another sound smack. When he snatched the stick and threw it aside, she calmly reached into her pocket and, taking out a small snuff tin, she opened it up and threw the contents all over him.

  The poor man was half blinded, and so were most of the people sitting alongside. The chaos was widespread, with everybody coughing and sneezing, and somewhere near the aisle a fight broke out; stalwart as ever, Maggie tried desperately to separate the warring pair.

  Suddenly the film was stopped, and the manager rushed into the fray, the ticket lady and another usherette bringing up the rear. “What the devil’s going on here?” he demanded to know.

  Somehow, amidst all the booing and screams of “Get the picture back on!,” they managed to separate the injured and led them up the aisle to the first-aid room.

  Right behind them, Maggie marched the offending couple to the door. “I shan’t be coming here again!” The old lady was adamant. “And neither will I!” The man was equally adamant. And, after a stream of abuse, all aimed at Maggie, they went off down the street chatting to each other like two old friends.

  Inside, with the film now back on, the people were happily screaming, while Maggie stood at the back, brushing the brown snuff from her lovely uniform, and rubbing her sore eyes.

  She almost leapt out of her skin when the manager seemed to creep up behind her. “See me in the office afterward,” he said, before shuffling away. Her heart sank.

  When the picture was over and everyone filed out, Maggie closed the door behind them. “I’d best get this lot totted up,” the ticket woman said, and got out her adding machine.

  Leaving her there, Maggie made her way to the office, where the manager was pacing up and down. “It’s no good,” he told Maggie as she came through the door, “this is the last straw.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Huh! I’m surprised you need to ask. It was bloody mayhem in there! We had to give fourteen people their money back, and I’ve no doubt that, come tomorrow, the complaints will be pouring in.” He observed her uniform, stained with snuff, and her eyes all red and sore where she’d been rubbing them. “Look at you, woman! You’re a mess …”

  Maggie was up in arms. “It wasn’t my fault.”

  “Oh no!” He threw up his hands in frustration. “It never is, but somehow when Sandra’s away and you’re up front, the world goes mad! I’m sorry, Maggie, I’ll have to let you go. You seem to forget I don’t own this place. I’m just the manager. I work for a wage the same as the rest of you.” Though he was fearful of her reaction, he would rather she got the sack than him. “You stay here while I collect the takings. I’ll have to pay you out of that, and rectify it later. I’ll give you two weeks’ severance, and a fortnight’s holiday pay. That’s more than generous if you ask me.” In fact part of it was a bribe to keep her mouth shut about his indiscretions. He would have to make the difference up out of his own pocket, but that would be a small price to pay for getting rid of her.

  By the time he got to the ticket-booth, Edith had already bagged the money. “We’re well short,” she said, handing it over with the ledger. “Having to pay back on fourteen tickets left a big hole in the takings.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll deal with it.” He bade her and the other usherette goodnight. “See you tomorrow, Mr. Ellis,” they chorused. And they went away laughing about the night’s events. “You never can tell what might happen in this place when Maggie’s about,” said the usherette as their laughter echoed through the darkened street.

  While the manager was gone, Maggie waited. She was fed up: she’d liked the job. “I suppose it’s time I moved on,” she mused. “With a few weeks’ pay, I can go and see Kathy. I might even be able to get a job with her at that holiday site.” Her eyes twinkled. “I might even find myself a proper bloke.”

  Just then the telephone rang. Intrigued, Maggie picked it up. “Hello, this is the Rialto. Can I help you?” She liked to answer the telephone; it gave her a feeling of authority.

  The caller was the manager’s wife. “Could you please bring my husband to the phone?”

  Maggie had an idea. “Oh, Mrs. Ellis, I’m glad you called, I was just looking for your number … y’see, your husband’s not very well. Oh, no, he’s not bad enough to send for an ambulance. He seems to think it’s something he ate. The trouble is, he’s been sick and he feels really queasy. He needs a lift home, and I can’t help. I only wish I could.”

  “Get him a taxi.”

  “I’ve tried, but I can’t seem to find one. So, do you think you could come and fetch him?”

  The voice at the other end shook with anger. “I suppose I’ll have to, won’t I?” And the receiver was slammed down.

  A moment later the manager returned. “Now then, let’s get this over with.” Throwing himself into his seat, he reached into the desk and got out his adding machine, which he proceeded to tap, while at the same time telling her, “I don’t have to pay you a month’s wages, but I think we know each other well enough to realize this
situation can’t go on.” Bagging her wages, he slid them across the desk and sat back, eyes closed and his hand soothing his brow. “It’s all there. Now get out!”

  When she didn’t answer, he glanced up and was rooted to the spot: while he had been tapping away, Maggie had been undoing her jacket. Now she stood before him with her breasts in all their naked glory. “Jesus!” His face went a purple shade of red and the sweat broke out in torrents down his back. “Put your clothes on, woman, before somebody comes in!” His eyeballs swiveled to the door then back to Maggie, and with his mouth open he gaped at her, positively dribbling. “You little vixen.” He tried hard to hold the smile down but, like a certain other part of his body, it popped up, out of control. “Maggie, behave!” In truth, Maggie behaving was the last thing he wanted.

  Maggie smiled seductively. “They’ve all gone home, my love,” she teased, “we’re on our own now.” Sidling up to the desk, she leaned over, her rather ample breasts almost touching his face as she purred invitingly, “I thought we might say our goodbyes properly. After all, we have been very close, haven’t we?”

  Realizing what she meant, he gulped so hard that his Adam’s apple bobbed up, getting stuck for a minute, before it bobbed down again. “Oooh, whatever will I do with you?”

  It was all she could do not to laugh out loud. “Whatever takes your fancy,” she said and, grabbing him by the collar, drew him forward, planting the longest, wettest kiss of his entire life on his open mouth; by which time he was putty in her hands.

  A few minutes later, with Maggie in his arms, the door opened and in walked his wife. It was what Maggie had been waiting for. “NO! Get off me!” Putting on the best show of her life, Maggie pretended to fight him off. As soon as he realized what she was up to, he began shouting about how it was all Maggie’s fault. “She’s a witch! She enticed me …”

  Falling all over the place as he tried desperately to do up his trousers, the poor man was assailed from both sides, with Maggie thrashing him with her shoe, and his wife tugging at his arm until he was sure it had come off at the socket. “You’re a beast!” she cried. “You’ve always been a beast. This is the third time I’ve caught you at it, but it won’t happen again because I’m off.”

  She landed such a slap on his face that it echoed around the room, and even Maggie took a step back. “I won’t forgive you this time!” she cried. “By the time you get home, I’ll have packed my bags and be long gone!”

  Ducking and diving between the two, Maggie grabbed her wages and, buttoning up her jacket, she headed for the door. “I don’t blame you,” she cried. “The man’s off his head. He just went for me. He pinned me down and tore my clothes off. I’m going to the police. I’ll make him pay for this! He’s a maniac. He should be locked up!” Turning on the tears, she looked bereft.

  “No, please.” Being a respectable woman, his wife didn’t want to become the target of such gossip. “Don’t do that.” Taking some notes from her handbag, she thrust them into Maggie’s hands. “Here, take this.” A horrid thought occurred to her. “My God! He didn’t …” She glared at her husband. “You didn’t …?”

  Seeming demure, Maggie looked down. “No, he didn’t. But he would have if you hadn’t come in.” Clutching the money in one hand, she dabbed at her eyes with the other and pretended to cry. “You don’t know how glad I was to see you.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw the accused cowering by the door, muttering to himself and glaring at her with such malice she had to catch her breath. “I was so frightened.”

  “All right, dear.” The woman helped fasten her blouse. “Look, you go away and don’t say anything. I’ll deal with him!”

  With several weeks’ wages in her pocket, the notes in her hands and a smile on her face, Maggie took her leave.

  Outside she could hear the shouting and arguing, and laughed out loud. “That’ll teach you to sack me, you old bugger!”

  She flagged down a taxi. “Take me to Sooty’s club,” she told the driver, “I’m celebrating.” And why not? she thought. She had more money than she’d had for ages, and plenty of time on her hands. What’s more, she had cause to celebrate.

  The taxi-driver laughed. “Come into money, ’ave yer?”

  Maggie trusted nobody. “No, not really,” she answered cagily, “I’ve just finished work.”

  “I can see that.” He had picked her up outside the picture-house and seen her uniform. “That’s an usherette’s uniform you’re wearing, ain’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Like your job, do yer?”

  “It’s all right,” Maggie chuckled, “but I should have been an actress.”

  As they drove on, she thought of Kathy. “Watch out, gal!” she muttered. “I’m on my way.”

  Samantha was hopping mad. “Don’t you understand? I’ve got nothing! My house has gone and I’ve no job.”

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Martin, but, as I see it, you have no call on your sister’s house. According to the will, and what you’ve already told me, the house was bought in her name and passes to your sister without condition. On your mother’s marriage to Mr. Lennox, you were given the family home, also without condition. This house was debt-free and, as you yourself said, in excellent condition. The fact that you lost it does not in the eyes of the law give you the right to a share of your sister’s property.”

  “What kind of solicitor are you?” Samantha was vitriolic in defeat. “It was my mother who gave me the house. My father left me nothing. I’m destitute. I’m having to live in rented property again. I have debts that need paying, and there are no decent jobs to be had. My mother’s got herself in a situation where she can’t help, and the only way out is for me to take back from Kathy what should have been mine in the first place. After all, I am the eldest. I should have been left the house, not her.”

  “Not necessarily. Being the eldest does not automatically make you the heir. In any case, your father bought the house in your sister’s name. I’m afraid I can see no way around it.”

  “You must be able to do something! Bring her to court. Make her sell the house and give me half the proceeds. Christ Almighty, I would have thought it was simple enough!” Springing out of her chair, she banged her fist on the desk. “If you won’t do it, I’ll find someone who will.”

  Getting slowly out of his seat, the solicitor stood up, his face twitching with anger as he told her calmly, “That’s entirely up to you. But, as far as I’m concerned, you have no case.” He thought she was the most selfish, spiteful and bone-idle creature that ever crossed his threshold. “But you do have choices … three, in fact.”

  Samantha’s eyes lit up. “Well, now we’re talking. And what are they, might I ask?”

  “Well, you could get another job and work your way out of trouble. You might think about getting married … to someone who can satisfy your taste for expensive things.” Her exquisitely tailored clothes and the diamond ring on her right hand had not gone unnoticed. “Or, you could go to your sister and beg her to help … if, of course, she is in a position to do so, and if she has a mind to help someone who is so obviously out to ruin her.”

  While the unpalatable “choices” were spelled out for her, Samantha’s hands clenched and unclenched. Now, as she spoke, her voice shook with rage. “How dare you? I could report you for speaking to me like that.”

  Quite unconcerned, he smiled. “I don’t think so,” he said. “I am merely expressing the choices you have, as I see them.”

  Straightening up, she took a long, noisy breath through her nostrils. Staring at him with murder in her eyes, she threatened, “My stepfather is a powerful, influential man. I shall tell him how you treated me, and you may be sure he will be in touch! Moreover, I shall make certain my friends are warned about you.”

  Unmoved, he returned the copy of her father’s will. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to help,” he said, then showed her the door. Head high, she marched out, threatening hell and damnation as she went.

  Shaking
his head, he closed the door and returned to his work.

  He’d had them all in this office at some time or another: the evil and the gullible, and those who were really in need of help. But this one was unique. A woman who was able enough to work but chose not to, who had squandered her own inheritance and who, without compunction, was prepared to rob her sister of her home, had to be amongst the worst.

  Going to the window, he flung it open, as though needing to rid the room of her presence.

  In Bridport, Kathy made straight for the café and Mabel.

  Seeing the older woman at the far end of the room, Kathy gave a quick wave and, smiling, Mabel hurried down to be with her. “It’s good to see you,” she said. “I’ll be finished in a minute or two, then you can walk me home and stay for a cup of tea. We’ve not been so busy today, and I’ve had very little company.”

  Patting Kathy’s arm affectionately, she added, “Besides, we hardly ever get time to talk properly, do we, dear?” Kathy had to agree.

  A short time later, arm in arm, the two of them strolled down the street, Mabel setting the pace, and Kathy content to chat as they walked. “Will your husband be in?” She had visions of that ugly lout waiting for them as they entered the house.

  Mabel shook her head. “He’s off down the pub with his cronies,” she answered. “Come Friday, he can’t wait to pack up and get away.”

  Sensing the sadness underlying Mabel’s words, Kathy merely nodded. And no more was said on the matter.

  The cottage was spotless; every nook and cranny scrubbed and shining, and each ornament polished until you could see your face in it. “This is such a pretty place, Mabel!” Kathy thought it enchanting.