The Beachcomber (13 page)

Kathy explained about the caravan, which had turned out to be cozy and comfortable. “The site is just a short walk from the house,” she said. “It so happened they’d had a cancellation and I was able to take the caravan for a night.”

Maggie was exhilarated. “See! I told you there’d be a caravan site.” She went on enthusiastically, “Happen I’ll stay there with my bloke, seeing as you don’t like him.” She continued, in a worried voice, “Will you be able to get the house right? I mean … it’s bound to cost you for getting the lights and the water on.”

Kathy sighed. “That’s not all. There’s paint peeling off everywhere, and it looks to me like the window-sills are rotten.”

“I can’t believe yer dad let it get that bad.”

Kathy had wondered about that herself. “Maybe he was in love and didn’t notice, or maybe he was tight for cash since he was keeping two homes going. But it’s been empty for over a year … maybe longer for all we know. It’s stood right through the winter at least, and I’m sure the sea air can do a lot of damage.”

“So, how will you afford to get it done up?”

Kathy confided her plan. “I intend getting a little job. I could buy paint and brushes, rub the wood down and do the work myself at weekends.”

“Hmh! Rather you than me.”

The conversation inevitably came onto men. “Go on then!” Maggie urged excitedly. “Have yer come across any good-looking blokes yet?”

Kathy laughed. “Give over, Mags, I’ve only been here five minutes!” Kathy’s mind went back to Tom. “There was
one
man though … in the chippie … aged about thirty-five or -six, I reckon.” She recalled him clearly. “Nicest-looking chap I’ve seen in ages, only …” She paused, trying to put her feelings into words.

“Only …
what?
” Maggie was not the most patient of people.

“Well …” Kathy couldn’t quite put her finger on it. “He seemed, I don’t know, kind of sad. I nearly choked on a hot chip and he told me to be careful.” She could see him now, in her mind’s eye. “He had the loveliest smile.”

Maggie laughed. “Sounds to me like
you’re
the one who needs to be careful. Some bloke smiles at you in the chippie … and you’re gone.”

Kathy hotly denied it. “Don’t be daft! I’m
not
‘gone,’ as you call it. I don’t know him from Adam and I don’t want to. Besides, I reckon I’ve got enough on my plate without worrying about men!”

Maggie was incorrigible. “All right, all right!” she chuckled mischievously. “If you say so.”

“I
do
. So you behave yourself.” As her money ran out, Kathy promised to write very soon. She knew the chances of Maggie putting pen to paper were slim.

On her way to the house, she paused to look at the boats in the harbor. Everything was beginning to come alive: it was still early but the boats were being fitted out and taken to sea; down on the slipway a man and a woman were launching their boat.

Some way along the harbor, two sleepy-eyed children walked along, holding their mother’s hand and looking as if they would still rather be in bed. Others were running and leaping about, excited by being at the seaside and impatient to get down on the beach with their buckets and spades. Kathy loved it all. After London, it was like another world.

Eager to get back to the house, she turned away. It was then that she saw the man from the chip shop emerging from the shop, his newspaper rolled up in his hand and his head bowed as if deep in thought.

She recalled what Maggie had said. “One smile and yer ‘gone.’” That was not true, but there was something about this man that seemed to cling to her. It wasn’t just that he was handsome, or that, as he strode across the road, the sun shone down on his hair and streaked it with gold; nor was it just the pleasing sight of his long, lean figure in flannels and white shirt, with short sleeves revealing strong, bronzed arms. It was more than that.

There was something else. Something the eye couldn’t see. Something she had sensed last night when she saw him for the first time. There was a natural “goodness” about him … a warmth that reached out, yet kept you at bay somehow. She had seen it in his eyes last night. Even when he smiled at her, she had seen how his dark eyes were full of sadness.

Intrigued, she watched him walk away, over the bridge and on, past the caravan site and up the hill, until she could no longer see him. “A man with troubles,” she deduced quietly. But, she shook herself, she was not here to get involved with another man.

Continuing onto the house, she realized for the first time how wonderfully sited it was. There was a well-kept public green in front and a high wall at the back, with shrubberies and lawns either side, though, like the front garden, they were badly overgrown.

As she stood with her back to the door, she had clear, uninterrupted views of the harbor on one side – a hive of activity – and the river on the other, with boats and ducks, and a restaurant whose terrace spanned the water on wooden stilts. “You chose well, Dad,” she murmured, and a great sense of quietness flooded her heart. “I
know
I’ll be happy here.”

The extent of disrepair was more than she had realized. Apart from the peeling windows and overgrown gardens, the path itself was pitted with holes and the gate was hanging on one hinge. There was a shed at the side of the house that was already halfway collapsed, and a broken window upstairs at the back. “Blimey, Kathy!” She took a deep breath. “You’ve got your work cut out and no mistake.”

For one nerve-racking minute she wondered if she was up to it … or even whether she could ever afford to do it. But the longer she stood there, the more the doubts melted. One way or another, she was determined to restore this lovely house to its former beauty.

Delaying the moment when she would open the door and go inside, she sat on the front step, gathering strength and mentally preparing herself. “It was
your
house, Dad,” she whispered, “yours and hers. And now it’s mine.” She caught her breath in wonder and blew it out in relief. “I need a while to take it all in,” she thought.

Having been to the shop for his ration of pipe-baccy and his daily paper, Jasper saw her sitting there, a small, solitary figure deep in thought. “Well, I never!” He was surprised to see the house had a visitor. “Wonder who she is?”

As always, his curiosity got the better of him.

Strolling over, he called out from the gate, “You look like a little lost fairy sat there.”

Jolted from her thoughts, Kathy called back, “I’m not lost, I’m here to stay.” As soon as the words were out she took a great deal of comfort from them …“I’m here to stay.” It sounded wonderful to her ears.

Taking it on himself to come up the garden path, Jasper stretched out his hand in welcome. “I’m Jasper.” He introduced himself with the most disarming grin. “And if yer haven’t already guessed, I’m the number one nosey parker hereabouts.”

Kathy took to him straight off. “I’m Kathy Wilson,” she said, shaking his hand, “the new owner of Barden House.” She said it with pride and the widest smile he had ever seen.

“Well now, Kathy Wilson, welcome to West Bay.” He sat down on the steps beside her. “Did yer know yer can get piles from sitting about on cold, damp steps?”

Kathy laughed out loud. “No, I didn’t,” she confessed, “but I do now.” She thought he was the loveliest, most natural, most odd-looking creature she had ever met. And she was delighted that he’d stopped to chat.

As was his nature, Jasper got straight to the point. “What’s brought you to West Bay?” He had a particular reason for asking.

Kathy gestured to the house, shook her head. “I had to come here,” she said. “The house was left me by my father.”

Jasper was visibly taken aback. “Oh! I’m sorry, lass. I didn’t realize your father had passed on.” He had wondered whether that might be the case, but now that it was confirmed he felt deeply sorry. Her daddy had been a fine man, and a good friend. “I’m glad yer daddy had the good foresight to leave this house to you, his daughter. It’s a grand old place.” Full of wonderful memories, he thought sadly. “A house like this should not be left to rot away.”

Kathy had been curious as to his earlier remark. “Did you know my father?”

“What meks yer say that, lass?” He hadn’t meant to give away too much, but there were times when his tongue had a mind of its own.

Kathy persisted. “Just now you seemed shocked. You said … you “didn”t realize” my father had passed on. To me, that sounds as if you knew him.”

Jasper nodded. “Aye, lass,” he admitted, “I knew him right enough. He was a good man … the best in my books.”

Momentarily unable to speak for the rush of emotion this produced, Kathy took a while to compose herself. “Tell me about him,” she asked softly, “and Liz. Tell me about
her
.” Each time she spoke her name, Kathy grew more curious.

“Mmm.” Nodding affirmatively to himself, Jasper laid down his newspaper, lit up his pipe and, taking a deep drag of it, he blew the smoke into rivers of curls that dipped and dived in the cool summer breeze. “Well, now, let me see,” he murmured. “What would yer like to know, lass?”

“Everything.”

“By! That’s a huge responsibility, lass.”

“I know.” Jasper’s kindly voice and calming manner put Kathy at ease. “But, you see, I didn’t know anything about her until my mother told me. And
she
only found out after my father …” Kathy gulped hard; it was still painful, even now. “Mother made a terrible song and dance about it, though the way she treated him, I sometimes wonder why he stayed with her.”

Jasper was philosophical as always. “No relationship is easy,” he pondered. “Them as says different are out-and-out liars.”

Kathy knew the reason for her mother’s anger and found herself confiding in Jasper. “She hated him even more when she found out he’d chosen another woman over her and, to make matters worse, Dad left their love-nest to
me
. Mother kept it to herself all this time … no doubt meaning to sell it and pocket the money. But when she came to have a look at it, she hated the house … said it smelled of fish. She wanted nothing to do with any of it. She thought the house was worthless … ‘derelict’ was what she said, and that it was … ‘filled with cheap, rubbishy furniture.’ Then she found out the deeds were in my name. Even if she could have sold it, she probably wouldn’t have done. Firstly she’s about to marry a wealthy old man, so she didn’t need the money, and secondly, she had another, more devious plan up her sleeve.”

Jasper was intrigued. “What kind of plan?”

“She intended giving my sister all her jewelry and the family home. I reckon she thought that, if she handed me this house at the same time, I couldn’t possibly object. That was her thinking, I’m sure of it.”

Jasper leaned forward, his voice low and intimate. “Your daddy never spoke about his life in London, but in a moment o’ confidence he did tell me that he ’ad only one great regret in his life. Now I think I know what he meant.” Jasper thought this delightful young woman had been hard done by, and said so. “Tell me summat, lass.”

“If I can.”

“Yer said one o’ the reasons yer mother told yer about this place was so she could give summat more valuable to yer sister, is that right?”

“That’s what I think, yes.”

“And if yer hadn’t been given this house …
would
you have ‘objected’ … about yer sister being given all these expensive things?”

Kathy managed a smile. “No. All my life my mother has given me nothing – not material things, and certainly not her love. And I never asked for anything. I had my dad’s love and, in the end, I made my own way, in spite of her.”

“I understand.” Jasper saw the determined set of her jaw and thought how like her father she was. “It’s a pity your mother saw this house as ‘derelict.’” He gave a hearty chuckle. “I reckon Liz would be deeply hurt to hear her carefully chosen furniture described as being ‘rubbish.’”

Kathy explained. “Mother was bound to say that, because she thought my father and Liz had probably chosen it together. In fact, I’m sure she only came to see the house out of curiosity. My mother would never have dirtied her hands on Father’s love-nest … unless, of course, it was filled with priceless things.”

“Ah, but it
was
filled with priceless things, lass.” Jasper glanced up at the house. “It was filled with happiness and love. For your father and his sweetheart, every day was a new adventure.” As he spoke his eyes shone. “They were so much in love … it was a joy to see.”

Kathy felt that joy now. She felt her father’s love all around her. “Did you know my father well?”

Jasper nodded. He had spoken with Kathy’s father many times during his stay here. “I knew them both,” he confided. “I was here the day they bought this house, and I watched them blossom and grow the more they were together.”

He sighed. “In this life you only ever get one chance at true happiness; if you let it go, it may never come again. Liz and your father knew that. They lived every minute together as though it was their last.” His voice broke. “I’m sorry it ended the way it did.”

Kathy was anxious. “
How
did it end?” She needed to know. “Please, Jasper … I’d like to know.”

Jasper wasn’t altogether sure. “It’s not my way, lass … to betray a confidence.” It went against all his principles.

Kathy gave the answer he needed. “Daddy wouldn’t mind,” she said softly. “I think he
wants
me to know, or he wouldn’t have left me this house.”