The Beachcomber

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The Beachcomber Page 38

by Josephine Cox


  Tom was already anxious. “You’ve got Dougie’s things, then?”

  “Yup. Got ’em yesterday. There’s not much in all … papers and business schedules, that sort of thing. More to do with work than anything else.” He paused. “Eat up!”

  Tom had seen how agitated he was, and he needed to know. “You’ve found something else, haven’t you?”

  The inspector nodded. “Did you know your brother kept a diary?”

  Tom shook his head. “I’m beginning to think I didn’t know anything about him at all. More’s the pity.”

  Whatever it was the inspector had found in Dougie’s home, Tom knew it must be incriminating or he wouldn’t have called him in. “This diary. Does it throw any light on what happened?”

  “It tells us all we need to know.”

  Tom was curious. “Can I see it?”

  “Not yet. It’s still being tested in the lab. But I can tell you the guts of it.”

  Tom waited, but he was not prepared for what the older man was about to reveal. “Your brother was jealous of everything you did … everything you had. Your wife, your kids, even the job you taught him.” He paused, before going on in softer tones, “He envied you, Tom … resented the very ground you walked on.”

  He momentarily glanced away, then, raising his gaze, he looked Tom straight in the eye. “Look, Tom, I don’t take any pleasure in telling you these things. But, at some point or another, the contents of that diary will be made known. It’s better you know now exactly what was in it.”

  Coolly returning his gaze, Tom kept control of his emotions. “I understand that, and I appreciate you giving me forewarning. I can’t pretend I’m not deeply hurt by what he thought of me, because I am. I had no idea. Can you believe that? He wanted me out of the way … was prepared to kill my entire family. For what?”

  He shook his head slowly and thoughtfully from side to side, as if making himself believe it. “I spent most of last night thinking about it, and the harder I thought, the more I understood – and the less I understood at the same time.”

  “That’s a strange way of putting it, Tom.”

  “No, not really.” Leaning forward, he wiped both his hands over his face, gave a long, drawn-out sigh, took a swig of his tea and was quiet for a minute. “I can take him being jealous of me,” he murmured presently. “I can take the hating … I even understand it a little. Older brother, first born, first to walk, first to school … to have a sweetheart, a wife and family. Setting standards … showing him the ropes at work; always one step ahead.”

  He gave a thoughtful nod. “I can see how Dougie might have resented that.” He could see it, but not really accept it. “He was my brother. I did everything I could for him. But now I know … it was never enough.”

  “Did you not suspect anything, about the affair with your wife?”

  “No. Nothing.” Tom needed to know. “Did the diary confirm what he said … those last few words?” He had only one thing in mind, and it was more painful than anything he had ever before encountered in his life.

  “I’m sorry, Tom. The answer is yes.” The inspector had been dreading this moment. “He and your wife had an affair for six years. They planned to go away, but then she changed her mind and finished it. He couldn’t take that.”

  Tom was distraught. “How could I not know? Six years she and Dougie were seeing each other, and I had no idea!” He was angry, angry with them, angry with himself. “How in God’s name could I not know?”

  He looked up at the older man. The question burned in the air between them. He wanted to ask … was desperate to know, yet didn’t want to know.

  The inspector read his mind. “Why don’t we leave it now, Tom?” he suggested kindly. “Put it behind you. Get on with your life.”

  Tom wanted to, but he had to know. Otherwise how could he ever go forward. “Was it true,” he asked, “what he said about my son?”

  There was a moment when the inspector thought he might lie to save Tom a great deal of heartache, but somewhere down the line the truth would out and he would be the villain. “I’m sorry, Tom.”

  A loud, broken sob caught in Tom’s throat. He stared down at the floor, the air thick with silence. The boy he had adored was not his! He was Dougie’s son. DOUGIE’S SON! The cruel words echoed over and over in his mind. But then an even more terrible thought struck him. “Dougie was prepared to sacrifice his own son to destroy me.”

  Now, when he looked up, his eyes were blinded by tears. He didn’t say anything more. It was too late. All too late!

  He got out of the chair and, turning away, walked slowly across the room. At the door he paused, but he didn’t look back. Instead he slowly turned the door-handle and, leaving the door ajar, went away, down the corridor and out of the building.

  The chill struck his face as he walked out into the daylight. Reality!

  Thrusting his hands into his coat-pockets, he walked along the street like a man in a trance, the stark truth leaping in and out of his mind like the stab of a dagger. “Not my son. Dougie’s son.”

  Some time later, never really sure how he got there, he found himself standing in the churchyard looking down at her gravestone. In his mind he could see her as if it was yesterday. “How could you do that to me … to us?”

  Anger had crumbled to sadness. “It won’t change the way I loved him, nor will I ever forget the great times we had together. He’s still my son, whatever you and Dougie did. Peter … is … still … my son!”

  The words were issued through gritted teeth, deliberately spaced, quiet but forceful. Nothing and no one could change the way he felt, or wipe out what he and his son had together.

  The following morning he paid his bill, called the inspector to tell him where he could be found, and left the hotel. He had done what he came to do, and now it was time to leave. It had been too long a journey. Too lonely.

  Every day, every minute, Kathy had been on his mind and in his heart. Yet he had kept a clear head and worked his way through, and now, thank God, it was over.

  Though he felt he didn’t deserve it, he had a wonderful woman, and a life waiting.

  Behind the counter at the site office, Kathy confessed to Rosie how desperate she was to phone Tom, and how she had promised herself that she wouldn’t. “Even if I did call him, I wouldn’t tell him about Samantha.” She was still adamant on that score. “Only I would like to know how things are going with him.”

  “Why don’t ye ring him then?” Rosie urged. She knew how, several times, Kathy had been on the verge of calling Tom. “Ah, sure, ye know where he is. He’s called you umpteen times, so you know he wants to talk.” Leaning one elbow on the desk, she gave Kathy a nudge. “Aw, look, me darlin.’ He must be just as anxious to talk with you, or why would he call?”

  Just then a weathered young man came in. “Do you have any caravans? Only I’ve been walking the hills hereabouts and I’m looking for a base for the winter.”

  Rosie was sympathetic, but replied, “I’m sorry, luv. Sure, I’d give ye a key straight off, so I would. Only we don’t let caravans through the winter. Matter o’ fact, we’re just now closing down. But there are any number of guest-houses in the area.”

  Reaching under the counter, she brought out a directory. “Look through that if ye like. I’m sure you’ll find something to suit.”

  With a snarl, he threw it back at her. “Don’t talk bloody stupid, woman! I wouldn’t be asking for a caravan if I’d got money for ‘guest-houses.’ Much use you are! It’ll be another night on the hills, I expect. Thanks for nothing!”

  With that he stormed out, with Rosie calling after him: “Good riddance to ye then, ye bad-mannered bugger. I hope yer arse freezes over, so I do!”

  With everything she had on her mind, Kathy couldn’t help but chuckle. “One of these days that bad temper of yours will get you in trouble,” she said.

  Rosie laughed out loud. “Ah, sure, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been in trouble. It’s what k
eeps me going, so it is.”

  She got back to the matter in hand. “Are ye going to call that man of yours, or what? Especially since he’s been calling here, anxious to find out if you’re all right.”

  Kathy nodded. “I will call him. Besides, I need to hear his voice. I need to know he’s okay.”

  Now that Samantha had been taken home, she wanted Tom close, but she continued, “I know how hard it was for him to go back there, Rosie, and how long it’s taken him to face up to it all. The last thing I want is to send him off track. You know as well as I do, if he thought I needed him, he’d be back here like a shot, and then where would he be?”

  Rosie had seen first hand how Samantha’s death had upset her, and how broken she was about her mother’s blaming her for it. “Aw, look now, Kathy. I’m so sorry about your sister, and I’d give my right arm if I thought it would bring your mammy to her senses, but it won’t. Sure, I can see that now. I know it’s not been easy, and I know you’ve taken it real bad. But you’ve come through it with a strong heart, so ye have.”

  Many was the time since Samantha’s death that she had taken Kathy in her arms and talked the tears away.

  She took her in her arms again now. “Aw, Kathy, me darlin,’ I’m proud of ye, so I am!”

  Kathy smiled up at her. Rosie had a way of making her smile, even when her heart was heavy. “I don’t know what I would have done without you and Jasper,” she said. “You’ve been wonderful.”

  “Ah, but it should have been Tom looking after ye! He’s missing you, that’s for sure.”

  Now, as Kathy made to protest, she put up a staying hand. “All right! I know what you’re going to say, and you’re right, so ye are! Tom has to concentrate on what he’s about. Sure, I do understand.”

  All the same, Kathy thought, she wished she had the courage to call him. The truth was, she had never needed Tom more than she did now.

  They both turned at the creak of the front door inching open.

  It was Jasper, his hairy face and bright eyes peering through the gap he’d made. “It’s midday,” he reminded them. “Time for summat to eat.” Like Rosie, he had Kathy’s welfare at heart.

  Rosie gave him a wink. “Come to take us somewhere exciting, have ye?”

  He winked back. “You’ll have to wait an’ see, won’t you?”

  Rosie had her own ideas. “The foyer of a posh hotel, and a pile of cucumber sandwiches with the crust cut off,” she suggested, “with a couple of tight-panted waiters obeying our every command.”

  “Hmh!” Jasper laughed out loud. “That’s ’cause yer man-mad, you little hussy!”

  Arriving from the inner office, the manager urged that they should not be gone longer than an hour. “There’s a mountain of paperwork to go through – apart from the filing – right down to the last receipt.” He groaned. “After that, every caravan wants cleaning and making ready for the winter.”

  Rosie moaned. “I thought you were taking on a couple of part-timers to do that?”

  “I’ve changed my mind.” Leaning on the counter, he grumbled, “It’s all right for you two. You’ve got a whole month off to do as you please. I’ll have to stay here, keeping an eye on the place.”

  “You’ll be all right, so ye will.” Rosie had to have the last word. “No doubt you’ll be helping yourself to a tot of booze from the bar whenever the mood takes ye!” She laughed. “It wouldn’t surprise me if you didn’t have a woman here to keep ye company an’ all.”

  “Hey!” Wagging a finger at her, he warned, “Unless you want me to take a firm hand with you, you’d better watch that wicked tongue of yours.”

  Giving him the glad eye, Rosie winked at him. “Is that a threat or a promise?”

  “I don’t make promises.”

  “Shame!”

  He blushed bright scarlet. “Go on with you. And make sure you’re back within the hour.”

  Grabbing their coats, they went outside with Jasper. “Where are we going?” Being as they only had an hour, Kathy thought they might just have a sandwich at the bar.

  “Don’t be so hasty, lass,” Jasper said with a grin. “Look at what I’ve got.” Rounding the corner, he pointed down the street. “Ladies! Your chariot awaits.”

  At first Kathy couldn’t see what he meant, but then she saw and couldn’t believe her eyes. “That’s not yours, is it, Jasper?” He had been known to play a few tricks on the odd occasion, and she thought this was one.

  Rosie looked down the street and saw it too, then she looked at Jasper. She saw the mischievous twinkle in his eye and laughed out loud. “Why, ye old bugger, you!” With her high heels clattering against the pavement, she went running down the street, whooping and hollering and frightening the pigeons. “Jasper’s got a car –” she wanted the whole world to know – “and a green one at that!”

  Kathy was amazed. “What made you get a Morris Minor?” she asked with a chuckle.

  “I just fancied going a bit mad, that’s all.” He grinned from ear to ear. “I allus wanted a car, and when I passed me test I could never afford one. I’ve saved over the years … not a lot, mind you, but enough to treat mesel’ in me twilight years. It’s not a new one but it’s in good nick.”

  Clustered around the car, a few stragglers were taking an envious look over it. He told Kathy, “She’s so sweet, I’ve give her a name.”

  Sliding her arm through his, she said softly, “Go on then … you can tell me.”

  Patting her hand affectionately, he declared with pride, “Her name’s Dorothy. After me very first girlfriend.” He blushed at the memory.

  Reaching up, Kathy gave him a kiss. “I think that’s a lovely name,” she said, “and I think you’re lovely too.”

  She had never seen Jasper blush before, but today he had blushed twice. She couldn’t help but wonder if he had fallen for someone.

  “Come on then, lass.” Propelling her forward, he opened the doors and invited them in.

  It was quite a squeeze, with Rosie almost on Jasper’s knee and Kathy trapped between the seats. They managed to climb aboard, much to the amusement of the onlookers.

  “Right then, Dorothy, lass.” Starting the engine, Jasper urged her on. “Let’s see what yer med of!”

  It was a stuttering take-off, and when the little car leapt over the bumps in the road, Rosie twice banged her head and wouldn’t stop laughing. Kathy found herself doubled up, and Jasper accidentally put his foot on the brake, sending them forward to within an inch of the windscreen. “Will yer look at that?” he shouted. “I allus knew Dorothy was a goer!”

  As they went off down the street, the sound of their laughter echoed from the walls. And though she had not intended it, Kathy found herself laughing until the tears fell. It was the first time she had laughed like that since before Tom left.

  Arriving in Bridport, Jasper had three goes at trying to park. The first was when his front tire went up the curb and they all fell to one side and couldn’t get out.

  The second time he was moved on by an irate householder with a yard-broom who chased them all the way down the street, yelling at the top of her voice, “Be off, and take that ugly monstrosity with you!”

  When finally he got parked and they all tumbled out, Kathy realized they were right outside the café that Mabel’s husband owned. She couldn’t understand it. The place was closed down.

  While Jasper was locking up his precious “Dorothy,” she spoke to a passer-by, who told her, “His wife left him, then he went off with some floozy. Mind you, he won’t get much money for that place. It’s not been the same since poor Mabel moved away.”

  Kathy nodded. She had heard how that bully of a husband of hers was not doing so well, especially since the news got out of how he beat poor Mabel senseless. Serves him right, she thought. I hope the floozy gives him a run for his money.

  After traveling for most of the day, Tom was on the last leg of his journey.

  Disembarking from the train in Weymouth, he glanced up at the stat
ion clock. It was already quarter to five. He had a half-hour wait for the bus and another half-hour journey before he got into West Bay. The one and only thing on his mind right now was Kathy.

  When the bus arrived he climbed on board, gave the conductor the required fare and took his ticket with thanks.

  Hitching his ticket-machine higher up his shoulder, the conductor walked on, stopping at each seat to see if there was anyone else wanting a ticket. When there wasn’t, he came and sat down opposite Tom, eyes closed and for all the world looking like he might be having a crafty kip.

  Tom smiled. The poor bloke looks done in, he thought. So when they stopped to collect more passengers, and he spied the familiar uniform of a bus inspector, he gently tapped the conductor on the leg. “Time to wake up,” he whispered, and by the time the inspector got on board the conductor was wide awake and tending to his duties “like a good ’un,” as Jasper might have said.

  When the bus stopped at West Bay, the inspector got off just before Tom. “Thanks for that, mate,” the conductor told him. “If it hadn’t been for you, he’d have caught me good and proper.”

  Tom told him it was no problem, and that he was glad to have been of help.

  When the bus moved off, Tom was still standing there, his gaze reaching across the street to Barden House. For a time he savored the sight of the house. In his mind’s eye, he could see Kathy lying on the rug in front of the fire, and his heart leapt.

  Quickly now, he made his way past the harbor and across the road, the sweet, salty tang of sea air filling his nostrils. Oh, but it was good, he thought.

  At long last, he was home – and soon, thank God, he and Kathy could begin to make plans.

  Inside the house, Kathy was alone; just as Tom had pictured her, she was lying across the rug in front of the fire, fascinated by the bright, leaping flames as they danced and wove themselves into a frenzy.

  Tom was never far from her thoughts and now, as she wondered about him, she made a decision. “I’ll call him in the morning,” she murmured softly. “I miss him so much. I need to hear his voice. I need to tell him how much I love him. I won’t tell him about Samantha, not yet. I’ll just ask him to come home as soon as he can. I need him here, with me.”

 

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