Heather did sometimes stop to think about her granddaughter. Busy with so many things, Beth got a bit lost in the mix. Looking presentable and eating the right food were priorities. Beyond that, Nana didn’t interfere. Maybe she should take more notice.
“Beth, are you alright?”
“Yes.” Beth looked startled at the question.
“I haven’t met any of your friends. Don’t you want to invite them around for tea?”
“No.”
“What’s wrong with them?”
“I – well, I have a few friends, but no one close.”
“What about boys?”
Beth turned a furious red and sighed. “No one I like.”
“Your father, he was a bad man. Selfish, violent. They’re not all like that. You have to find a decent one. We’ll get your hair done again, maybe a colour this time, you’re not bad looking, but we need to give you all the help we can.” Her words were delivered with a big smile.
This was Nana’s version of being helpful. Beth nodded politely and then carried on with her quiet life. There were boys that she noticed. And there was one man who set a good example. Retribution, with his strong sense of right and wrong, was the template for the type of man she wanted.
In no rush to find her own Retribution, she avoided parties and proms. Beth would not be found hanging around the shopping mall or going for a burger with friends. Adult life could wait. And once she was older, she had other things to attend to. Finding her father and bringing him to justice being top of the list.
What would that justice be? If her father admitted to what he had done and begged for forgiveness, would she be lenient? He had murdered her mother and no amount of apologising would make up for that. No, he must die for her to be completely satisfied. She was looking forward to the final confrontation.
The usual teenage problems, boys, fashion, acceptance, and lack of confidence, were not things that Beth worried about. Wearing a uniform at school meant that she wasn’t fretting about her clothes when surrounded by her peers. Some of the girls wore a lot of make-up, but that was not something she wanted to do. It would make her look like Nana, and that was bad.
The first term at the new school had been the hardest. New people that found out about her tragic history. Whispers, pointing and giggling gradually abated and the important business of getting an education could become the focus. Already Beth was considering what her future would be like.
No parents, and only Nana as family, meant that she had to become self-sufficient as soon as possible. A proper career was required. Beth had considered joining the police like Anna and Retribution, but there was only one criminal she wanted to catch. No, she would never be able to emulate her idol.
Nana was right when she talked about Beth’s father. His violence and, ultimately, killing her mother, did not make her trust men. That made romance a low priority. Boys at school were barely on her radar, other than when they acted like idiots and disturbed the class. There was no rush to meet someone. Most girls just needed a boyfriend because they wanted to fit in; not a problem for Beth.
Never part of a clique, Beth didn’t have to worry about being the odd one out. It all seemed like so much effort to maintain friendships which were based on how you looked or what you liked. A few other loners, like herself, banded together when necessary, having lunch, discussing homework, but Beth was mainly happy to do her own thing.
Still beholden to Nana for her clothes, Beth didn’t mix with anyone outside of school. Shiny blouses and sensible shoes marked her out as different. Every teenager’s nightmare. Her mother’s murder made others keep their distance, too. Some sort of stigma was attached to a person who had suffered trauma.
The odd invitation to a party or to go shopping came her way. Beth would consider them and then decide that they were not for her. There was no feeling sorry for herself or worry about missing out. Quite sure that these were not things in which she would like to participate, Beth was happy to wait until she was older for any social interaction.
A simple life without any further drama was what Beth needed at this stage in her life. Fretting about being popular, or which boy liked her, were distractions that she didn’t need. Exams and decisions about what would come next were uppermost in her mind. It was pointless asking Nana’s advice. The woman had never gone out to work.
“Hello, Beth. Have you thought about what you want to do next?” The careers adviser was smiling and nodding encouragingly.
“I want to take a course at college. I’ve been looking at all the leaflets and I think I’ve decided which one,” Beth answered.
“Good, what is it?”
“Journalism.”
“Oh, right. You’re keen on English then? A good exam result in that will help you get a place.”
“My teacher thinks that I will get a top grade so, as long as I remain focused, I should be okay.”
“I don’t think we have to worry about your focus. I wish the other students took their studies as seriously as you do.”
Everything went according to plan. Beth got her good results and a place on the college course. A step nearer to becoming financially independent. There was a path laid out, she was on it, and moving forward. Nothing could stop her now.
Chapter 22
Heather had wanted so much for her daughter, Alison. The beautiful child had grown into a beautiful woman. Despite her looks, Alison had no confidence. She was needy. Was that her fault? Heather had done her best, but the girl had been a disappointment. Then she had met Tim, and things had seemed better.
What a handsome man he was. As a couple they had looked like film stars. Alison blond and slim, and Tim tall and rugged. The wedding – well, it had been magnificent. A fitted dress to show off her daughter’s tiny waist, a stunning venue for the reception and the finest food. It had cost a fortune. It had cost Heather’s ex-husband a fortune.
Her often absent, much-nagged husband had left her before Beth was born. Heather was not going to let him go without handing over the house and a lot of money. A successful businessman, he could afford it. Having got what she wanted, learning that he had taken up with a younger woman and bought a villa in Spain hardly hurt at all.
Alison had moped about for a while because her father had gone. Another excuse to be miserable, Heather thought. They never saw him after the divorce. He sent cheques for Alison and Beth’s birthdays, but that was all. Heather had sent a message to him after the murder and had received a brief, sympathetic reply. Nothing since then, but she was quite happy about that.
Heather cared for Beth. She was her granddaughter, after all. She was not Alison, though. Not even a pale imitation of her daughter’s good looks. Her expectations for Beth were, therefore, somewhat lower than they had been for Alison. Anyway, she had so much to do to keep her life in order, she didn’t have time to fret over the child.
Beth’s hair looked better and she wasn’t overweight. A bit slimmer would be better, but Heather had done what she could. At least she was turned out well, despite a liking for wearing jeans. As long as the girl paired them with a pretty top, they weren’t so bad. At some point she might even snag herself a man.
Regarding herself in the mirror, Heather was not entirely happy with what she saw. In her sixties now, a lattice of wrinkles covered her face. The diet pills kept her thin. She had always been proud of her tiny frame and the clothes she had worn in her twenties still fitted her now. Being slender didn’t do her any favours. In some way she knew that. Her wrinkles were deeper, and that made her look older than she actually was. A lifetime of dieting was a hard habit to break.
The schools these days were marvellous. They took care of sex education, and even had a counsellor for troubled children. Heather had never sat down and talked to Beth about her mother’s death. There didn’t appear to be any lasting effects. There was the girl’s preoccupation with that programme about the man in the mask, but what harm could that do?
Heather mainly cons
umed coffee and her special pills, an intake rather too high in caffeine. It gave her boundless energy and she cleaned and talked to use it up. Staying up late until she was dog tired was the only way to ensure she got a few hours of sleep. In bed at night there were often palpitations that echoed through her body, probably from the pills. But she was thin.
Her ex-husband, Roger, had been a wealthy man. Beautiful in her twenties, probably better looking than Alison, Heather had had her pick of the eligible bachelors. He had been so obsessed with his business and the money. No wonder she clamoured for his attention when he was home. It had all been too much, apparently. Labelled high-maintenance and difficult, her husband had said that he could not take it anymore and he had left.
The last few years, before Beth came, had been pretty lonely. Yes, Heather had friends, the ones she spoke to on the phone, but there were many hours in the day which she filled with cleaning the house and nothing else. Her granddaughter had provided company. Someone to listen to her chat or just share the silence.
Weighing herself, Heather noticed that she was a pound more than she had been the previous day. That would never do. Today she would take an extra pill to get her back on track. Beth was at college – she was studying English, or something – so there would be a whole day to get the place spotless.
First of all, make-up. A thick layer of foundation before Heather drew back the eyebrows that she had so vigorously plucked over the years. Kohl around the eyes, mascara, blusher and her favourite pale pink lipstick. Dressed in a skirt and blouse – she rarely wore trousers – she was ready to undertake her chores.
A list first. Heather loved a list. Clean the kitchen floor, remove any cobwebs with her feather duster, nip to the corner shop for some milk – Beth had used it all on cereal – and then make a couple of calls. Grimacing as she hauled herself up, Heather didn’t feel too good. That was no excuse, the house must be kept in order.
As Heather filled the bucket ready to mop the floor, she felt a bit dizzy. Making it to a chair, she clutched her chest as a searing pain grew. This wasn’t good at all. The kitchen floor would go unwashed. The heart attack was massive, and it finished off the beautifully made-up, still slender, Heather.
Chapter 23
Tim, who was briefly Gerry and was now Hugh, liked his life at the port. He went to work now in clean jeans and a shirt as he spent more time in the office. It had become apparent, after a short period of time, that Tim had a brain and was too good to be doing grunt work. He had reorganised some of the practices and streamlined others. This type of initiative was recognised and rewarded. He was promoted.
Occasionally the smaller cruise ships used the port, and Tim always made sure that he was there overseeing the embarkation. He gave most attention to the ladies who were travelling without a male companion. Smiling and flattering, he would leave a lasting impression on the ones that he had singled out. His targets were younger, attractive and rich.
Tim didn’t steal the women’s money. He didn’t want to attract the attention of the police, so he would not get involved in any crime. He did, however, enjoy their generosity. A brief fling, or a few months with a woman – he didn’t see them for long – was enjoyed. Getting to eat in nice restaurants and the odd holiday were the rewards for his time and attention. Generally, he got out of these entanglements without any bad feeling. The women had a good time and so did he.
Tim liked all of the women he had dated since he had arrived at the port. They were all of a type: rich, attractive and single. There were certain things that he needed to avoid. Husbands, no complications please, and the crazy ones. He could usually spot them, but he’d had a few close shaves.
After the initial approach, Tim could judge whether it would be okay by the woman’s response. Keeping things casual and friendly was the key. If they had called and texted him several times before the first date, he knew they were trouble. Too clingy meant that they would be difficult to get rid of when it was time to move on.
He wasn’t a heartless lothario, just out for what he could get. If the ladies chose to buy him gifts, pay for a holiday or for dinner, he would not turn it down. Polite and caring, but maintaining a bit of distance, the women knew exactly where they stood with him. If things changed, then he was out.
Reading the signs of when to leave was an art. Some women were trickier than others, but on the whole, he got it right. A slight annoyance if he couldn’t make a particular date, more phone calls and texts, or an excess of questions about him were generally seen as indicators that it was time to move on.
The signs of increased interest meant that a woman was looking for some kind of commitment from him. No one that he had met was good enough to make him want to settle down again. Very wary of any hint of marriage – look what had happened last time – Tim went onto high alert at any hint of it.
Tim would, mostly, tell the women that he had enjoyed their time together, but it was now over. The declaration followed a couple of weeks where he had gradually phoned less and been unavailable. There was no surprise when he spoke the words, but there was often disappointment.
He had done the ghosting thing once, when he had to disentangle himself from one woman. Not a pleasant experience for either of them. Being plagued by dozens of phone calls from someone who wouldn’t take no for an answer had been rather disturbing. He’d seriously considered changing his phone number, but the bombardment had stopped before that had become necessary.
The rage which had surfaced when he was with Alison had never come to the fore. Tim put that down to the fact that he was not trapped in these relationships like he had been with her. Now, if he became claustrophobic or annoyed, he could escape. There was no way he was going to lash out at any woman now. He wouldn’t do that, or anything else even vaguely illegal. Staying away from the police was a priority
Chapter 24
Standing watching the passengers arrive Tim saw a woman who piqued his interest. His colleagues watched him go into action as he had spotted his prey. Tim rarely failed to snag whoever he was after. His hair was cropped short. The bald-headed look had been ditched. In smart clothes, he was back to being an attractive, slightly roguish, man. The cheeky smile and ready quips were catnip to the ladies.
“I know that look, Hugh. Who has caught your eye?” Brad grinned at his friend.
“You see that lady there, the one in the nice navy-blue linen dress? She’s the one.”
“Dark hair? I thought you preferred blondes.”
“Variety, Brad, is the spice of life.”
“Why that one?”
“Take note. The shoes and handbag are expensive. Her hair, that is a colour I like to call Rich Lady Brown. She looks a little sad. I think that she needs a bit of happiness in her life. Who am I to deny her a bit of fun when she comes back from her lonely cruise?”
“Another notch, eh, Hugh?”
“A little harsh, Brad. The ladies come and go, but they all have a tiny place in my heart.”
“Are there any that you really like? You know, you feel like settling down with them.”
“Not so far, Brad, and it is not in my plans. Never say never, though.”
Walking towards the terminal, Tim was calm and confident. Once inside, he stopped to chat to people he had met before. Working along the line he smiled, chatted and listened to the passengers. Eventually, he reached the lady in blue and greeted her formally.
“Good afternoon madam, welcome. Is there anything I can help you with today?”
“My bags will be in my suite when I get there?” The navy-blue lady frowned as she spoke.
“Yes, that is all taken care of. Do you have some concerns?”
“I’m just a little anxious I suppose. I’m travelling alone.”
“The crew and staff on the ship will take good care of you. In two weeks, when you return, I’m sure you will have had a wonderful time. My name is Hugh. I will look out for you when you disembark and you will be able to tell me how much you enjoyed th
e voyage.”
“Thank you, Hugh. I’m Caroline. I’m feeling happier already.”
“Good.”
The woman had lovely green eyes, but they were tinged with sadness. Tim wanted to know what her story was. Maybe she was recently widowed or divorced. There had been a hint of a smile at the end of their conversation. In a fortnight, Tim hoped to find out a lot more about Caroline.
The lady with the sad green eyes occupied Hugh’s thoughts many times over the following days. He checked the passenger list and found out Caroline’s full name, address and date of birth. Tim felt a bit uncomfortable prying into her life, but it interested him. Hopefully, it would come in useful later.
On the day that the ship returned, Tim was dressed casually. He didn’t want to appear as if he was trying too hard. The shirt was a little creased and he had a shadow of stubble. Welcoming the returning travellers, he waited for Caroline to appear. When she did, he couldn’t hide his delight.
The elegant woman was wearing jeans and a T-shirt. Caroline was tanned and looked a lot more relaxed than when she had left. Her eyes found his and she returned his smile. They moved towards each other and when they were close, they laughed. It was a moment.
“Voyaging certainly agrees with you. You look great.” Tim did not have to feign his enthusiasm.
“Thank you. I was worried when I left, but it was better than I thought. I’m glad to be home, but I’m glad that I went, if you know what I mean.”
“I do. Sometimes it’s good to step outside of your comfort zone. You did it, you are home, and who knows what you can achieve next. You might even go for a coffee with me sometime.”
Caroline’s smile grew wider and she reached into her handbag for her phone. Numbers were exchanged and Tim walked her to a cab. He had sent a message within minutes of the car pulling away. “See you soon.”
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