The Beachcomber (24 page)

Kathy’s eyes grew big with amazement. “You’re having me on!”

“I’m not! I swear to God Almighty, that’s what he said. Well, I had to run outta there, because I could feel the laughter bubbling up inside me. Once outside, I laughed all the way to the stockroom. And do ye know how long it took them to surface?”

“I daren’t guess.”

“Two hours!” She chuckled at the memory. “They came into the storeroom and gave me a quid to keep my mouth shut. ‘Don’t let onto a soul what I told you,’ the man said, and I never have … until now.”

After the last of the caravanners had gone, Kathy thought how fortunate she had been to land this job, with a workmate like Rosie. She couldn’t help but wonder if she would still be behind this desk next year. Or would she have moved onto pastures new? For now she was happy enough in her work; with Rosie working alongside her, making her laugh, the hours just seemed to rush by.

“Right!” Rosie gave her a nudge. “That’s it for the day.”

Making the last entry into the ledger, Kathy glanced up at the clock. It was pointing to midday. “My God! I didn’t realize it was
that
time!” Closing the ledger, she helped Rosie hang the many keys in their rightful place on the board.

Just then, the weekend shift arrived to take over. “Fancy a drink before you get off?” At the minute, Rosie was without a man-friend and, as she had told Kathy many a time, her family was too far away for her to visit too often. “I’ve a thirst on me like a navvy,” she said. “Will ye join me in a little drink?”

Going through the main bar, they ordered their drinks – a Bacardi for Rosie, and a long cool glass of orange for Kathy. “Look, I’m a bit short o’ cash,” Rosie began.

“Don’t worry.” Kathy was used to Rosie’s excuses and, as always, she discreetly brushed it aside. “This is
my
treat.” The sad truth was that Rosie liked a drink too much. She’d be paid on a Friday and, after a wild night out in Weymouth, she’d have to scrimp and save for the whole week. But Kathy didn’t hold that against her. She knew all too well what it was like to be lonely, and if that was how Rosie coped, then it was nobody’s business but her own.

When the drinks arrived, they carried them outside to the terrace. “It’s getting chilly.” Rosie took a great gulp of her drink. “Come September, there doesn’t seem to be the same warmth in the sun. Don’t ye think so, Kathy?”

Glancing up at the drifting clouds, Kathy agreed, though, “I hope we haven’t seen the last of summer just yet,” she mused.

Sitting there, lazily chatting with her new-found friend, Kathy thought she had never been happier. Now, as the clouds shifted and the sun struggled through, she looked across at the harbor and the people strolling by. An image of Tom suddenly came into her mind. She felt her face flush.

“Penny for them?” Rosie’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

Kathy apologized. “Sorry, Rosie. I was miles away.”

“Huh! Sure, I could see that for myself.” She took a swig of her drink. “Was it your
man
ye were thinking of?”

Kathy blushed again. “
What
man?”

Rosie gave a wry little smile. “Ah, sure didn’t I see him walking you home from work the other night, and didn’t the stars sparkle in your eyes when you looked up at him?”

Kathy laughed. “Nonsense!” she said firmly.

“Ah well, we’ll see about that,” Rosie declared. “I’m just a born romantic, me.” Taking another swig of her drink, she asked, “So he’s not your man, then?”

Kathy was slow to answer, because she wasn’t at all sure what she felt, never mind what his intentions were. “He doesn’t say much about the way he feels,” she said finally. “He hardly ever talks about himself, or his past. I’m not sure he views me as anything more than a friend.”

“What do you feel about him?” Once Rosie had a drink inside her, there were no boundaries to what she might say. Besides, she had come to like Kathy a lot, and wanted her to be happy.

Kathy thought. “I really like him,” she said, “but sometimes I wish I didn’t.” No sooner were the words out than she regretted them; she realized she did want to be more than his friend.

“Have ye told him?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because there’s something about him … some private thing that makes me keep a distance. When we’re together I feel he needs to talk, but then he suddenly clams up and that’s that.”

“He’s got troubles of a kind … is that what you’re saying?”

“I’m not sure. All I know is, we have been alone on a few occasions, but sometimes he seems to be somewhere else … miles away. Yes, he
does
seem to be troubled about something, and though I feel he wants to discuss it, he doesn’t seem able to.”

“Do you think he is keen on
you
?”

Kathy smiled at the prospect. “Like I say, I’m really not sure.”

“Why don’t ye
ask
him?”

Kathy shook her head. “I can’t do that.”

“Why not? You want to know where ye stand, don’t ye?”

“Not if it frightens him off.” Leaning forward, Kathy said quietly, “Oh, Rosie! He seems such a special man, I’m afraid to spoil it.”

Not wanting to step over that line between concern and interference, Rosie backed off. She could see how deeply Kathy felt about Tom.

They both relaxed, drinking their drinks and, for a time, content to watch the world go by.

While Rosie dreamed of love won and lost, Kathy thought about Tom and how he did seem haunted by something. But she never doubted his love for her, not really, because she sensed it every time he looked at her.

Just then Rosie voiced what was on Kathy’s mind. “Is he married, d’ye think?”

“I don’t think so.” Kathy was quick to answer. It was good to discuss it with Rosie, as long as she could be discreet. “I’m sure Jasper would have mentioned his wife if he had one.”

“Have you ever seen him with a woman?”

“Never.”

“Have ye been to his house?”

“No.”

Rosie thought on that for a minute before stating the obvious: “He could be hiding something.”

“Such as what?” Kathy didn’t care much for this line of thought, but she had to admit to herself that all these things had already crossed her mind.

“I wouldn’t know,” Rosie answered, “but if I were you, I’d find out before ye get too deep in love it breaks your heart.” She paused for a minute, her mind wandering back over the years. “I’ve been through all that, and I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.”

“I know what you mean, Rosie,” Kathy replied quietly. “And I appreciate you worrying about me.” She had told Rosie that she was divorced, that Dan had left her, and she knew her new friend was looking out for her. She gave a whimsical smile. “But the truth is, I think about him when I go to sleep, and when I wake, and all day long he’s never far from my mind.”

Rosie groaned. “Dear mother of God, you’re a lost cause, so ye are.”

Kathy laughed. “Thanks for that!” Taking a long gulp of her drink, she then confided, “Jasper goes in Tom’s house often. He’d know if Tom was hiding anything.”

“Is Jasper that old fella with the beard and whiskers … a kind of rough-looking Father Christmas?” Rosie asked.

Kathy laughed. “He’s the one. The best friend a man could ever have, that’s what Tom says, and I agree with him.”

Rosie nodded. “I’ve passed the time of day with him myself. He’s a lively old bloke … always ready to set the world to rights.” She was curious. “How well d’you know him, then?”

“He just kind of turned up on my doorstep. He saw me there and we got talking. Apparently, he knew about my father and Liz. He helped me to get myself sorted out with the house and everything, and now he comes around often. It was Jasper who organized the outing to Weymouth the other week, you know, when Tom bought the sailing boat.” She’d told Rosie all about that special day.

“Did Tom seem keen then?”

“He seemed to like talking to me on the bus. And he told me what a lovely time he’d had.”

“Ah, sure, is that all?” Rosie was skeptical. “To my mind he either loves ye or he doesn’t. A girl needs to know where she stands, so she does.”

“So,
you’d
ask him, would you?”

Rosie thought on that. “Well, mebbe not. Y’see, if ye ask him, ye might frighten him off, then your chance is gone for good. On the other hand, if ye
don’t
ask him, you may never know
where
ye stand. The two of youse could go on for years and in the end it could lead nowhere.”

“I’ll have to take that chance.” Kathy could not see herself asking Tom how he felt about her. It was too early. Too bold.

“There ye are then.” Rosie sighed. “Like I said … you’re a lost cause.” She drained her glass. “I’d best be off. I’ve to get meself ready for a date. Y’see, there’s this caravanner who wants to take me out for a night on the tiles, and who am I to waste an opportunity like that, eh?”

Kathy had a warning. “Be careful, Rosie. Some of these single blokes are only out for what they can get.”

“Ah sure, don’t I know that?” She giggled like a schoolgirl. “And I don’t give a damn.”

She went away down the street waving and chuckling, and Kathy waved back. “Have a nice time,” she murmured with a little smile, “and don’t get into mischief.” Rosie was made in the same mold as Maggie, she thought, and, rain or shine, she wouldn’t want either of them any different.

“D’yer want that drink, missus?” The little cockney boy had slid into Rosie’s seat without Kathy seeing. “’Cause if you don’t want it, you might as well give it to
me
.”

Momentarily taken aback, Kathy recognized the little chap as being one of the caravanners whose mother, with one other child, had only recently arrived at the site. The mother appeared to have little money; from what Rosie had told her, the woman’s husband had paid in advance to book them all into the caravan and promptly ran off with some woman, supposedly a friend of theirs.

Angry and disillusioned, the mother had been determined to enjoy their holiday anyway. As she said to Rosie, “To hell with him … before too long he’ll come back, wanting his warm bed and an easy meal on the table, but when he does he’ll be shown the door, you can depend on that.”

Without hesitation, Rosie had been in full agreement. “You do right,” she told the hapless woman. “Men like that want their doofers chopped off.” Though, knowing Rosie, Kathy thought that would be the last thing she wanted … for any man to be without his “doofer,” as she called it.

“Well, missus, do I get the drink or not?”

Kathy pushed the glass of orange toward him. “I’d had enough anyway,” she told him with a smile. “Go on, son. You finish it if you want.”

“Cor, thanks, missus!” In minutes he had wolfed the drink down. “Mam says we can’t afford luxuries,” he said, his eyes filled with tears. “She says our old man’s run off with his tart, and we’ll have to go without.”

“Without
what?
”

His little face was downcast. “Everything! Me dad promised we’d be going on the donkeys in Weymouth and we’d ’ave ice-cream. He said if we were good he might take us for a ride in one o’ them boats … he said sometimes if you pay, they let you take them out all by yourself.” He glanced up, his eyes alive with anger. “An” now we ain’t gonna get nuffin.” As he talked he nervously wound his tiny fists one into the other. “I hate him.” His bottom lip began to tremble. “
I hate him!
”

Aware that at any minute he would burst into tears, Kathy put a comforting arm around his shoulders. “I’ll tell you what,” she said. “How about if I treat you to an ice-cream? A big strawberry cornet, with chocolate sauce on top.”

Though he licked his lips at the prospect, he shook his head. “Naw. Me mam says she’ll tan me arse if I take anything from strangers. I shouldn’t have had that drink, only I were thirsty, and she ain’t got no money.” He thought about the ice-cream and wondered if it would be all right, but then he shook his head. “Naw. I’d best not, missus.”

“What if we find your mammy and ask her?”

As it turned out, they didn’t have to look far for her, because just then she could be heard calling for him, and a moment later she appeared from around the corner. “Where’ve you been, you little sod?” Taking him by the scruff of the neck, she told Kathy, “I’m sorry if he’s been a nuisance. He keeps wandering off, and I can’t keep track of him.”

Kathy assured her he had been fine. “In fact, I was thinking of asking you a favor.” She could see how, in spite of her bravado, the poor woman looked haggard and pale. It must be hard for her to cope, she thought.

The woman was instantly suspicious. “What kind o’ favor?”

“I could take him off your hands for half an hour if you like … give you a break?”

“Why? What you got in mind?” God only knew she could do with a break. The girl was too young to realize what was happening, but not the boy. He was in such a rebellious mood, she didn’t know how to deal with him.

Kathy understood her dilemma. “He’ll be safe enough, I promise. I thought I might get him an ice-cream and take him down to see the boats … if that’s all right with you? A friend of mine has just bought a small boat. I’m sure, if we asked him, he wouldn’t mind letting your lad go aboard … just to have a look round.”