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Authors: Josephine Cox

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BOOK: The Beachcomber
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Kathy wished with all her heart she could do something, but it wasn’t in her power. “Don’t be sorry,” she urged. “I understand.”

He wondered how
anyone
could understand, yet she really
did
seem to. It was the amazing way she lifted his spirits, and her genuine, heartfelt compassion, that made him love her all the more.

Coming closer, he looked into her face and saw the anguish there. “I know how difficult it must be for you as well. But I meant what I said before,” he promised. “I
do
love you. And our time
will
come.”

She slid her hand into his. “I know.”

His smile was tenderly intimate, yet teasing. “So, are you hungry?”

“Starving … I told you! But I’ll get the sandwiches.”

“Absolutely not!” With a stern expression, he playfully demanded, “Who’s the captain on this ship … you or me?”

“You, sir!” She snapped her heels and saluted smartly.

“Exactly,” he laughed. “So sit yourself down and enjoy the view, while I get on with my duties.”

Smiling happily, Kathy obeyed the order. It was all a game, and she was content to play along. She was with Tom, and nothing else mattered. But in the back of her mind, the questions never went away. Would he ever be free of those nightmares? Was there a future for them? Or would it all end in tears?

After lunch they made their way farther along the coast to the village of Lyme Regis. Here, they came ashore, and, hand-in-hand, they went off to explore the narrow streets. They walked along the Cobb and up to the cliff tops, from where they could see the coastline stretching away in both directions. They held hands and ran and laughed like children; when he kissed her, she melted into his arms. Now, more than ever, she knew that was where she belonged.

The hours passed and soon the daylight was fading. When evening began to draw in, he suggested reluctantly, “I think it’s time we went back.”

Equally reluctant, Kathy agreed, pulling on her jumper as the air grew chillier. “Will you teach me to swim?” she asked him on the way back, and Tom said he would.

As they threaded their way along the coast, it started to rain. Tom fell silent. Kathy sensed his dark mood, but wisely said nothing. If he wanted to confide in her, he would, she thought.

And to her relief, he did. The minute the boat was safely anchored in the harbor, he asked her to stay a while. “Wait till the rain stops,” he said. “I’ll walk you home later.”

“What is it, Tom?” She always knew when he was troubled, but this time it was different somehow. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head from side to side as he fondly observed her. “You know me too well.”

“So, there
is
something wrong?” Afraid now, her stomach lurched. Was this where he told her he wanted it all to end?

Her heart sank when he admitted, “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Trying to put on a brave face, she urged, “You don’t want to see me anymore. That’s it, isn’t it?”

His dark eyes grew wide with amazement. “Oh no!” Gripping her by the shoulders, he told her reassuringly, “I would
never
want that! If you believe anything, you must believe that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Oh, Kathy! I can’t tell you how much I want to be with you.” His voice shook with emotion. “You’re
everything
to me!”

Relieved, she clung to him, and for a time they took comfort in each other. Presently, he held her at arm’s length. “You knew I would have to go away sooner or later, didn’t you?”

She nodded resignedly. “Is that what you have to tell me … that you’re ready to leave me?”

He nodded, a look of reluctance on his face. “I’ve already made arrangements to see Inspector Lawson, the man who handled the case from the outset. He’s based in London now. I want us to go through everything again, with a fine-tooth comb. Dorset police say they’ve exhausted all lines of enquiry, but there
has
to be a way of tracking that car, and the person who sent my family to their deaths.”

His fists clenched and unclenched as he thought about it. “The police have missed something, I’m sure of it. A car and its driver can’t just vanish into thin air!”

Seeing how, in spite of him saying his rage was under control, Tom was growing agitated, Kathy wrapped her warm, gentle hands over his fist; it was clenched so tight his knuckles had bled white. “Tom?”

“Yes, darling?” Calmer now, his dark eyes smiled down on her.

“Are you sure you’re ready to deal with all that?”

Again, for a brief second, he seemed miles away. “If we’re to have any future, yes. I need to see it through.” He readily admitted, “There are still times when the anger takes a hold, but now, at long last, I really
can
think clearly about what happened. And there’s another thing …” He hesitated. “I’m convinced my wife Sheila knew who it was that drove us over the cliff.”

He let his mind go back to that moment when he first sensed it. “Just before we went over the cliff, she glanced back. I saw the look in her eyes, Kathy! I saw the flicker of recognition, then it was too late and all hell was let loose.” Running his hands through his hair, he closed his eyes in torment. “She
knew
. I swear to God she knew who it was!”

Realizing how it was troubling him, Kathy tried to rationalize his suspicions. “Did she call out a name?”

“No,” he recalled, “there was no name.”

“Did she
say
anything at all that caused you to think she knew who it was?”

Again he shook his head. “It wasn’t anything Sheila said … there was no time for that. It was just that instant when I glanced at her … an instinctive thing. It was there in her eyes … the way she looked back … the way her face fell in astonishment.”

He banged his fist on the hull. “There was no time! Later, I forgot all about it for a while. I was too sick with hatred … I couldn’t think of anything else … But, now, I’m certain of it. She
did
know who it was. There’s no doubt in my mind about it.”

“And have you thought who it could be?”

“Endlessly!”

“And?”

He shrugged. “And I’ve come up with nothing.”

“Surely it couldn’t have been a friend?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” His answer was hesitant.

“Do you
know
all her friends?”

He nodded. “You could count her friends on the fingers of one hand. They met once in a while, went shopping, and did all the things that women do. They were women just like her, married with children. I shouldn’t think any one of those would want her hurt.”

He described her. “Sheila was well liked, had lots of interests, always going to some class or other.” He gave a small wry laugh. “I could never keep up with her!”

Something he said made Kathy wonder. “You said she went to classes?”

“That’s right.” He cast his mind back. “The children were growing up, and she decided she wanted to learn a new language … She started French classes. She went twice a week, and loved it. She was getting very good, too.”

Kathy considered that for a minute, then said, “What about the people she went to class with? Did you know any of
them?

Her question hit hard. “My God! I never thought of that.” It was possible, he thought. “She will have made friends there, but she never mentioned anyone in particular.” He grew frantic. “There’s something else too – something really strange!”

Digging into his trouser pocket, he took out an envelope, which he handed to her. “Read this, Kathy. The letter is from the florist I appointed to deliver a regular supply of flowers to the churchyard. Read it … tell me what you think.”

Curious, Kathy opened the envelope. Taking out the letter, she proceeded to read it aloud:

Dear Mr. Marcus,

I know you asked me not to contact you, except in the event of any hiccup with the regular payments for the fortnightly delivery of flowers. This is not the reason for my contacting you. The flowers are delivered as we agreed, and the payments are paid into my bank account on time. There is no problem there.

The trouble is, someone appears to be deliberately destroying the flowers by throwing them out of the container and strewing them about. They then replace your flowers with their own.

I can imagine how distressing it will be for you to read this letter, and I’m very sorry to have to be writing it. I haven’t written before, because at first I thought it might have been an accident, or someone playing a prank. But then it happened again and again, and it began to look like a deliberate and calculated act of wanton destruction.

Of course I quickly replaced the flowers, and kept an eye on them as far as I could. But it’s happened again. This time they were torn into shreds, and were almost unrecognizable as the roses and gypsophila we delivered. Some attempt appears to have been made to burn them on the path close by; the church-warden came to the shop and told me about it. He was most upset, and so was I. It beggars belief that someone could do such a thing.

In all my years as a florist, I have never known anything quite like it. The church-warden has confirmed that no other flowers in the churchyard have been interfered with, so I’m afraid it appears to be a personal attack on either you or your family.

I’m sorry, Mr. Marcus, but I really am out of my depth here. Please advise as to what you would like me to do.

Yours respectfully,

Margaret Taylor

“But that’s terrible!” Kathy was shocked to the core. “Who in their right mind would want to destroy flowers in a churchyard? And why only the flowers sent to
your
family?” Knowing the history of his family’s tragic circumstances, Kathy couldn’t help but be afraid for Tom himself.

Tom had been stunned by the letter, and it showed in his voice now as he confessed, “The letter came yesterday. I couldn’t bring myself to discuss it with anyone, not even you. Oh, I wanted to! But I thought it was unfair to burden you with it.”

Now she could see why he had been out there walking the beach at such an ungodly hour. “That’s why you couldn’t sleep, isn’t it?” she remarked. “That’s why you were pacing the beach when everybody else was tucked up in their beds?”

He smiled. “Not you, it seems.”

She admitted it. “No. For some reason, I couldn’t sleep either.”

“But you’re right,” he murmured. “What’s happened is shocking and awful, and whoever is doing it must be sick in the mind!”

Kathy found it hard to believe. “I just don’t understand why anybody would destroy your flowers.”

Tom had thought long and hard about it. “Someone must really hate me.”

“Or someone hated your
family?

Tom had already considered that, but it was inconceivable. “It doesn’t make sense. It’s me they want to hurt … they can’t hurt my family anymore. It’s me who sends the flowers. Besides, if it was my family they resented, why would they replace my flowers with fresh ones? It must be me they have a grudge against.”

His explanation only served to make Kathy even more fearful for him. “Can you think of anybody who would hate you enough to do this?”

He smiled sardonically. “I’ve beaten many a rival company to a lucrative contract.”

“Do you really believe a business rival would do such a thing?”

Serious now, he shook his head. “No. That’s not the way it works. We all have to make a living. You win some, you lose some. That’s the way it is in business.”

Talking with Kathy had helped his mind to focus, because now something else occurred to him.

“I’m beginning to think that whoever drove us off that cliff was after me and not my family. They just happened to be there when the opportunity presented itself. I’ve thought and thought, and I reckon that’s why the flowers are being left … as a kind of twisted apology. Don’t you see, Kathy … whoever did this is getting at
me
. It’s
my
flowers they’re destroying. It’s
me
they want dead!”

Though Kathy followed his reasoning, she daren’t think about it too deeply, or she would never have another night’s sleep. “I’m not so sure.” Like a dog with a bone, she was loath to let it go. “I can’t believe anybody would kill an entire family just to get at you. Maybe you were just unlucky enough to meet some mad killer that day; someone who started out with murder in mind, and you and your family just happened to be there.”

Tom had to admit, “All right, it’s possible.” But it wasn’t enough to satisfy him. “It still doesn’t explain why somebody is destroying my flowers and putting fresh ones in their place. To me, that seems like a personal thing.”

Kathy relented. “You’re right. It’s a strange business. It’s best you go and try to resolve it one way or another; I can see that now.”

“I want rid of it, Kathy.” His mind was made up. “Whoever it was that robbed my wife and children of their lives must be made to pay for it.” His voice fell to a hush. “I need to know
why!
And if it was me they were after, I also need to make sure they don’t get another chance to finish the job.”

He took her in his embrace, his face against the softness of her hair and his voice low in her ear. “It’s coming between us, and I don’t want that. It will always be there. Unless I can put it to rest once and for all.”

BOOK: The Beachcomber
10.63Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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