by Gloria Cook
‘I don’t think so.’ Selina took a sip from her glass of white wine. ‘Go away.’
Dougie Blend had shuffled nearer and bent to speak into her ear. ‘We’ve never spoken directly but we’ve spent many pleasant evenings at the same establishments. I’d never forget someone with the beautiful colour of your eyes. Or someone’s tastes. You enjoy men and lady friends.’
‘Only when I choose to.’ She had never given her real name in the places he had mentioned – she was relieved about that. Afraid he might make a scene – Dougie Blend was known as an unprincipled man who’d think nothing of embarrassing someone publicly – she had smiled directly at him. ‘Perhaps I might choose to some other time, I’m rather busy today.’
‘I’ll live in hopes then,’ he had replied jovially, revealing large, voracious teeth. He handed her his business card. ‘Get in touch, old thing, any time.’
Draining her wine glass in one angry gulp, she had signalled the waiter for a refill. And to her added frustration, a woman next accosted her. An old woman, smartly attired, but her coat, hat, gloves and shoes were at least a decade old. ‘I’m so sorry you’ve been bothered by that dreadful man. He thinks he can speak to anyone he likes just because he’s an alderman. He disgusts me. I wish they didn’t allow him in here.’
‘I wish they didn’t allow you in here either,’ Selina muttered under her breath. She said aloud, ‘If you’ll excuse me. I’m about to go.’
The old woman seemed not to hear. ‘This is a respectable place, it’s… it’s…’
Selina looked over the annoying stranger with a medical eye. She was blinking, as if her mind had suddenly shut itself off and was struggling to get restarted, and she was rocking on her feet. For a moment Selina thought she was showing signs of senility, then she realized she had taken a little too much to drink with her meal. The last thing Selina wanted was to carry out some sort of muddled conversation with this woman, but the compassionate side of her was stirred – and she hated it when this happened – the part of her that people reluctantly admired, which she saw as a quirk in her character. She got up and eased the woman down in the opposite chair and ordered coffee for her.
‘How very kind of you. I’m Miss Gertrude Roberts,’ the stranger said, some of her senses coming back to her. ‘I’m a retired district nurse.’
‘Oh, really?’ Selina said. ‘Do you live close by?’
‘I’ve a little house up in Bosvigo Road. It’s not far from here.’
‘I know where that is. I think you’re a little unwell, Miss Roberts. Drink your coffee and I’ll put you in a cab and take you home.’
‘Oh, you would? I can’t thank you enough. I don’t usually get like this.’ Gertrude Roberts hiccoughed, and Selina was suspicious she got a little inebriated often.
‘How many years were you a nurse?’ Selina said. Conversation would keep Gertrude awake.
‘For forty years.’ There were tears in her eyes and Selina summed her up as desperately lonely now her life’s work was at an end. ‘I served the St Allen district: Zelah, and Marazanvose and Hennaford.’
‘Hennaford? I used to know some people there.’ Selina wondered if this would prove useful to her. ‘Harvey, I think they were called.’
‘Oh, there’s been such sadness there. The squire, he was only a young man, died a few weeks ago, and before that he and his wife lost a two-week-old baby. And there was that business with the baby with the birthmark…’
The old woman was rambling, about to go back over every memory of every birth she had attended. Selina cut her off. ‘Tell me about what you do now. Do you have a routine? But first let me ask the waiter to order us a cab.’ She listened to Gertrude’s prattlings for ten minutes, then escorted her home and saw her safely inside her front door and into an armchair to sleep away the afternoon.
‘I can’t thank you enough,’ Gertrude had muttered as her eyes closed. ‘You must call on me any time.’
‘I don’t think so,’ Selina had murmured, locking Gertrude’s door and posting the key back through the letterbox.
Wearing sunglasses and a headscarf tied film-star style so no one would recognize her, she left the row of ordinary terraced houses and made her way back down into the town, moving on to Kenwyn Street, and turning into Little Castle Street, where she could look up to the top of the steep Castle Street, where the livestock market was. She could hear the indistinct voice of the auctioneer and see a busy scene. It was unlikely Emilia was up there transacting business, her father usually saw to that. Selina was fuming about so much wasted time. And fuming with herself for not crushing Perry before leaving the house at Highertown. She turned right into River Street, and while passing along on the other side of the road from the County Museum, she had thought of an excellent punishment for him. Either he agreed to leave Cornwall and move somewhere overseas with her for good, or she’d let the world know about his affair with Emilia. It was the old story and one she relished with malice – if she couldn’t have Emilia, then as sure as hell he couldn’t either!
The thought of Perry pining away for Emilia made her smile. A vicious, feline smile. He’d go. Perry would do nothing to risk harm to his precious Em. As the days and weeks and years dragged on without her, perhaps he’d put a gun to his head. There wouldn’t be anything else for him to do. He’d not take up with another woman, not even for carnal relief. He was pathetic – good and kind, honest and considerate – but pitiable. It would be a just punishment for Libby’s death, and for having the only person in the world that she, herself, had ever loved or could ever love. Perry deserved the horrible lonely end coming to him.
Aiming to fix Perry into a new life, planning to make every decision for him from now, to control him entirely until there was only a shambles left of the man Emilia Harvey was in love with, she crossed the road to a gentleman’s outfitter’s to buy him some new clothes. Then she saw Jim Killigrew watching some sweet young thing.
The words on the van parked beside the pavement had hit her with surprise. It was hilarious. Well, bully for him! Jim Killigrew, the eighteen-year-old youth whom she had so ruthlessly seduced and tossed aside, had grown up and had his own little business. She had known nothing of this. She had not gone to Alec’s funeral, not wanting to be spurned by the villagers, which would have upset Emilia – now she wished she had. Did she have a lot to make up for! A shadow as dark as midnight settled on her face. Jim Killigrew had made a success of himself. Success until now. This was where his luck would run out. He had laughed at her humiliation during a public event, the day Tristan Harvey had torn into her over terrifying his wretched son with the threat to castrate him. She’d had to run to get away from the jeers of the crowd and had fallen flat on her face. And Jim Killigrew had stood over her and laughed and crowed. For that she would bring his life crashing down. All she had to do was to find his present weakness.
Swearing profanely, Jim strode back into the ironmonger’s. Selina waited. He came back out, hefting a heavy box under one arm, which he put into the back of his van in one effortless movement. Selina watched appreciatively. She knew his strength. Most men would have had to carry the box in both arms and then found it tricky to balance the box in one arm while opening the van door, then there would have been a grunt of relief when the box was relinquished. Not so with Jim. His robust form, his powerful muscles were a match for anything. Such stamina and a quick mind to learn he’d had as a youth. Now he was in his prime. A wholly fine sensual being. Selina wetted her lips with her tongue.
Jim closed the van door and made for the driver’s seat.
Selina was beside it, her ungloved hand resting on the handle. ‘Aren’t you going to offer your sympathy over the loss of my niece?’
‘I’m sorry for your brother. I’ve got nothing else to say to you.’ Jim was finding it hard to keep his temper in check. How dare she try to take him for a fool again, playing one of her rotten games. She was immoral and evil, the total opposite of Elena. ‘Get out of my way or I’ll run y
ou over in the street!’
Selina grinned, revealing her teeth. ‘Oh, don’t be like that, Jim.’
Jim was about to tear her hand off the handle when a motor car pulled up behind the van. It was Perry in the Daimler. He wound the window down. ‘Selina! Leave off annoying Jim. Get in the car. There’s been news.’
Chapter Twenty-Four
Was his spirit here? His essence? Some last tiny particle of him before he left the earth for ever? Would she see him in the corner of her eye, but when she turned her head to look he’d be gone? Would she smell the wonderful scent that was unique to him? People said that sort of thing happened.
‘Alec?’ She turned in each direction. ‘Alec?’
The stream seemed to tinkle a little louder on its way, a joyful note. The warm breeze rustled lazily, peacefully through the overgrowth of long grasses and nettles. The leaves of the oak tree above crackled merrily under the strength of the sun. The sun danced sparkling patterns through the branches. ‘Alec? Is any of this you?’
‘He’ll never leave you, Aunty Em.’
‘Oh! Jonny. I never heard you.’
‘It breaks my heart to see you looking so lost.’
‘I—I was just thinking.’ Emilia dried her tears. ‘Here in Long Meadow, it was a good place to come to die. The best place for your uncle. I could bear it more if only he hadn’t been alone.’
‘I don’t think he was alone.’
‘You don’t? How can you be sure?’
Jonny sat down in the exact spot where Alec had been found. He held out a hand to her. She joined him. ‘Listen again. Close your eyes. Absorb the atmosphere.’
She did so. And heard the clear leaping water, the brushing of the leaves, the cattle lowing in the next field, the coo of a wood pigeon. ‘Now does that feel as if he was lonely? Everything he knew was here. It was the place where he found peace. He left you in the house, Aunty Em, left you at the farm with the boys and Lottie because he knew you’d look after it and them.’
‘Thank you. Thank you, Jonny. I’m seeing Ernest Rule, the solicitor, this afternoon for the reading of the will. Your father and Ben are coming with me. Would you like to come too? I think Alec would’ve wanted that.’
‘I’d be honoured to be there.’
Emilia rested and thought about Alec, taking refuge here, relaxing here, taking photographs here. Yes, it had been a good place in which for him to die.
She thought about the words he had struggled to write in his letter. Such love he’d had and freely he had given it. And strength and courage to face his torment and end alone. She had known there had been something wrong with him but she had never allowed her thoughts to dwell on the worst thing. And when it had happened, the way Alec had chosen to go made it seem somehow poetic and beautiful. No harrowing bad memories. Just Alec with her one day and not the next. She thought about how differently Alec would have felt if he’d known about her and Perry. No doubt he would have followed the usual road of a cheated husband and taken his wrath out on Perry. He would have fought to keep her, she was certain of that, and she would never have left him and the boys, but all the love between her and Alec would have been gone for ever. It would have been her fault, and sometimes it made her grief, her loss, almost unbearable. He had told her to seek happiness. She felt she didn’t have the right to do so. Her feelings were so numb that when Perry was at the farm she treated him only as a very close friend.
After another ten minutes Jonny suggested they return to the farm. ‘You look very grave suddenly,’ she said, as they made the climb up the valley.
‘I hope you won’t get too upset by this, Aunty Em,’ Jonny said, catching her hand. ‘I left the farmhouse just after you and there was a phone call. From Perry Bosweld. I’m afraid the poor chap’s been asked to identify a body.’
‘Oh, Perry,’ Emilia wept. ‘How terrible for him.’ If only she could be with him. And a thought came into her mind that she should have felt sorry for but never would. If only it was Selina who had died and not Libby. If the body turned out to be Libby’s, she hoped passionately that Selina would quickly take herself off again, for as surely as day followed night, the beastly woman would unforgiveably cause trouble somewhere.
* * *
‘Jim! I thought you were working at Shortlanesend this afternoon.’ Elena was surprised to have him suddenly appear in her kitchen.
‘The customer asked me to start tomorrow instead.’ Jim hugged her closer than usual. It was he who had postponed the job. Unsettled by his encounter with Selina Bosweld, he’d needed to see Elena.
Elena leaned back in his arms and studied him. He seemed to be in a heavy mood. ‘Is everything all right?’
‘Course it is.’ He put a gentle kiss on her lips.
Moments later, Jim was settled at the table with a mug of tea. Elena fetched the cake tin. ‘I’ve made these cheese scones specially for you.’
‘You don’t need to keep spoiling me.’ He gave her an affectionate, grateful smile.
Elena always blushed prettily when he paid her a compliment. ‘I like to.’
He rolled his eyes, adding a merry twinkle. ‘Mind I don’t start taking you too much for granted.’
‘You wouldn’t do that.’
‘What makes you so sure?’ He teased her gently.
‘I know you.’ She liked to be teased in this way. It took the place of more intense courting. Jim had not kissed her properly yet. She was glad of that. Apart from the children’s company – they were now taking a nap – they spent many hours alone; anything might happen, and she had no idea how to deal with that side of life.
‘Already?’
‘Of course. I’m a good judge of character. Jim…’ She became serious in a way that Jim called her biblical mood.
‘What is it, sweetheart?’ Jim became alert.
‘I saw Mrs Rowse from the farm this afternoon. She told me that Libby Bosweld’s body’s been found.’
‘Oh. That’s sad.’ Mention of the girl intensified his disgust over the meeting with Selina Bosweld. ‘I saw her aunt in Truro today. God, I hate that woman.’
‘Jim, please, language,’ Elena tutted, ‘and you shouldn’t hate anyone.’
‘Elena, you don’t know what she’s capable of.’
‘Tell me. We shouldn’t have secrets.’
He could never, ever, tell this gentle innocent woman, whom he had come to love in a peaceful sort of way, about the shameful association between him and Selina Bosweld. The memories he had were terrible; he still felt abused and humiliated. Elena probably took it for granted that he wasn’t a virgin; she might not even have thought about it. She’d be horrified if she learned he had been seduced in the very room she slept in.
Jim took a gulp of tea and picked up a newspaper and hid behind it. Damn it, he shouldn’t have mentioned the Bosweld woman. He longed for a cigarette, but he’d not been here long and had extinguished one on the back doorstep. Elena would raise her sweet enquiring brows if he went outside for another so soon. He believed that she had a direct line to God and was supernaturally protected, and he had this irrational fear that God might decide to put his thoughts into her mind. Protected… Jim suddenly had a very real fear. Selina Bosweld was vindictive and he had clashed with her this afternoon. He might have to be very careful for a while; it might be necessary to protect Elena and the kids, and his future with them. He clenched his fists. That bitch had just better not try anything or there could be another sudden end for the villagers to talk about.
* * *
Dolly Rowse drew in her lips and hurried past the sitting room into the farm kitchen. ‘Emilia, you’re not serious about allowing that woman to stay here? Surely not?’
‘What else can I do, Mother?’ Emilia stood back from the airing cupboard with fresh bed linen in her arms. ‘She’s just seen the body of her beloved niece. She’s in a terrible state. Perry was right to bring her here. And what about him? He needs to have caring people around him. He’d never cope with Selina o
n his own. I could hardly send him away, could I?’
‘I s’pose not,’ Dolly bit her lip. ‘But my dear, can you cope? You’ve only just become bereaved yourself.’
Emilia stared at her mother. It was rare for the doughty housewife to give her endearments and look at her with such treasured concern. ‘I think so. Alec would have insisted that Perry stay. It’s dreadful for him, he adored Libby.’
She would never forget the look of desolation on Perry’s face as he’d led Selina into the farmhouse. ‘Th-there was no mistake, Em. It… it was her swimsuit. I’m sorry…’ He’d been barely able to get the words out. ‘Selina’s gone to pieces. I had to come here. I didn’t know what else to do.’
Selina was clinging to him, sobbing worse than anyone Emilia had ever seen, hardly able to stay on her feet. Emilia had gone to them, reached for them both, although she had only wanted to hold Perry. The three had hung on to each other for some time. Emilia had felt Perry’s tears wetting her hair. ‘You did the right thing,’ she whispered to him.
Selina had virtually collapsed and Emilia had helped Perry drag her into the sitting room, where she had been since, sobbing under a blanket, refusing to talk, or eat or drink.
Emilia said her mother, ‘Perry’s not close to Selina. In fact, so he told me, they had a dreadful falling out just before they drove up to Padstow. Hopefully she’ll go away again very soon, and he’ll have no one. I’ll make up the beds for them.’
‘That woman might be in a pit of grief right now, but I don’t trust her. I don’t like her. Nor does Jonny. He soon made himself scarce outside again when he saw she was here,’ Dolly breathed noisily. ‘As long as she’s under this roof I’ll be keeping a very close eye on her. I’m your mother, it’s my place to see you’re all right. You’ve put off the reading of the will. Told Ben and Tristan not to come. You’ll have to see to that soon.’