The Beachcomber (39 page)

She hoped he would, yet she was worried about him being too close to Samantha, who had an unenviable reputation for stealing other women’s men.

“Well, thank you, darling. I’d love to!” he said, though he would have preferred to take Kathy to Weymouth, where they could be alone. The truth was, they had so much to talk about, and in a few days he would be gone from here, for who knows how long. But he understood how Kathy could not desert her sister who, judging by the look of her suit and attire, had only recently arrived. “What time do you want me?”

“Why don’t you come in
now?
” Samantha had a soft spot for a good-looking man, and this one was all the more desirable because he was her sister’s. “I’m sure we could while away the time until the fish shop opens,” she suggested blatantly.

“Samantha!” Kathy addressed her sharply. “I think it might be a good idea if you used the time to unpack and change.” She tried hard to keep the annoyance out of her voice, but Samantha had a way of riling her that sent all common sense out of the window.

“Fine,” Tom said quickly. Realizing there was some sort of deep-rooted friction here, and not particularly having taken to Samantha, Tom addressed himself to Kathy. “What say I come down about ten past six? I could call in to the chip shop on the way and pick up the order.”

Samantha hid her disappointment. “What a good idea!”

Wanting to slap her, but restraining herself, Kathy told her, “You can take your case upstairs if you like, Samantha.” She gave her directions to the guest room. “You’ll find everything you need in there.”

“Okay, sis.” Smiling at Tom, Samantha sighed. “Kathy was always the bully.” She gave him one of her loveliest smiles. “I’d best go, before she loses her temper with me.” Rolling her eyes like a frightened little girl, she hurried away.

When she had gone upstairs, Tom looked at Kathy with raised eyebrows. “She’s nothing like you!”

Already upset and disillusioned, Kathy retorted, “You mean she’s sophisticated and well groomed, while I’m more suited to plimsolls and a sloppy top?”

Seeing he had innocently touched a raw spot, Tom slid his arm around her shoulders; drawing her forward, he kissed her full on the mouth. “I love you in your plimsolls and sloppy top,” he said mischievously. “Besides, you’re ‘suited’ to
me
,” he told her softly, “and I’m ‘suited’ to you.”

When he looked down she was smiling up at him. “That’s better,” he chuckled. “Now then … walk me to the gate, and I’ll tell you how much I love you.”

When he put it like that, Kathy thought, how could she refuse? – and anyway, in spite of Samantha, he had put back the heart in her. “You’re an old charmer,” she said, laughing.

“Hey! Not so much of the ‘old”!”

From Kathy’s bedroom window, Samantha watched the two of them. She saw how wonderful they were together. She heard their laughter; she cringed when Tom kissed Kathy, and her hatred grew tenfold. “
I’m not finished yet!
” she hissed. “This house and everything in it should have been given to me. I came here to get what’s rightfully mine, and I’m not leaving without it.”

She thought Tom was a real man: handsome, rich, and attentive. “You’re a great catch,” she said, ogling him from afar. “
She
doesn’t know how to handle a man like you. But I do. By the time I’ve finished, I’ll have you
and
the house.” The idea of marrying a man with money was too appealing to brush aside.

K
EEPING A CAREFUL
watch for anyone who might recognize her, Lilian got off the bus and quickly made her way to the churchyard. The gift of flowers was cradled in her arms, as a child might be.

She knew exactly where to find Tom’s family. After all, she had attended the service after the tragedy, and since then had been many times to visit alone.

Coming in through the tall iron gates, she headed for the far side of the churchyard, where Tom’s family were laid to their rest. For a time she looked down at the headstone and the beautiful words written there, and she felt a pang of guilt at loving the husband of this kind-hearted woman. Yet there was a feeling of envy too; a feeling that he should have been married to
her
, and not to this woman lying here. If he had been, this awful tragedy might never have happened!

Her feelings were all mixed up: envy, regret, love and hate; they were all there, etched in her aching heart for all time. “I’m so sorry.” Whenever she came here, she always felt the need to apologize. “I know you were a friend to me, and I was always grateful for that, but it isn’t my fault if I love him, you need to understand that.”

Undoing the wrapping, she took out the flowers: twelve beautiful yellow roses. With tender loving care she set them in the pot at the foot of the headstone, her heart leaping with fear when a voice at her shoulder said, “I’m glad to see you’re putting them in the vase and not throwing them all over the place!”

The caretaker was an old fellow with a bent back and a sour face, and he was fed up with forever clearing up behind other people.

“Go away!” Lilian had no time for him. “Clear off. Leave me alone.”

“Huh! No need to be so downright bloody rude! All I’m saying is, I’m not paid to sweep up after you lot, so just make sure you leave the place tidy when you go.”

He ambled off, mumbling to himself. “Got no respect, that’s the trouble. Damned visitors … no thought for nobody but theirselves.”

Lilian watched him for a minute before getting back to the task in hand.

When she was satisfied the flowers were arranged to her liking, she went to the tap, found the small jug which was there for the purpose and, filling it with water, returned to the headstone, where she topped up the vase.

That done, she looked down on the headstone, her voice trembling with emotion as she whispered, “I love him, you know that, don’t you? I’ve
always
loved him. You were my friend, though. When you came to the office and we talked, and you bought me presents for my birthday … and that Christmas, when I was on my own and you asked me to your house … I loved you, too, in a way …”

Emotions overwhelmed her. “It was so awful … the accident and everything. I’m so sorry. It was my fault, you see. You don’t know how often I’d dreamed of getting you and the children out of the way, so me and Tom could be together. While you and the children were there, I didn’t stand a chance, don’t you see that? I wanted him, and I know he wanted me … but you got in the way!”

She gave a nervous little giggle. “We’ve got a chance now, though … with you gone. I know it’s a terrible thing to say, but it seems to me it was meant to happen this way.” She outlined her plans. “He’s gone away for a while, you see. He said he wanted to be on his own, to think about everything – which is understandable in the circumstances.”

She stood up tall and proud as she declared, “I’ve decided to go and see him tomorrow. I know he’s ready to talk about us. He won’t turn me away, not now. Not with you out of the way for good. You see, he’s been feeling guilty about wanting me, that’s what it is. But it’ll be all right now, you’ll see.”

Suddenly she heard a sound behind her. Swinging round, she saw a young woman approaching from the bushes. “What are you doing hiding there?” A kind of madness took hold of her. “What are you up to?” Lilian was afraid the stranger might have heard what she’d been saying.

“I’m not ‘up to’
anything!
” Gloria laughed with embarrassment. “I was just delivering flowers,” she said. “I took the wrong turn and had to cut through the bushes.” Feeling threatened by the striking woman with her long auburn curls, she told Lilian, “I’m sorry to interrupt.”

Spying the pretty bouquet of flowers in her arms, Lilian asked, “Are they for here?”

“Yes.”

“But there’s no room in the vase now.”

“Oh, it’s all right. Look!” Shifting the flowers, she revealed how they were contained in a vase of their own. “The boss decided this was the best way of going on. You’re right. That vase is far too small. We’ve got a regular order, you see, and sometimes, if there’s flowers in the vase, I have to take mine back … it’s such a shame.”

Lilian wondered what was the matter with the young woman. Her voice was quaking, and she seemed in a hurry to get away. “You’d best do what you came for then.” Lilian stepped aside. “I’m just going, anyway,” she said. “I’ll leave you to get on with it.”

Gloria nodded her appreciation. “Like I say … I’m sorry to have interrupted.”

“It’s all right.” Lilian glanced at the headstone. “She was a friend of mine. It was a terrible thing that happened.”

“Yes, I know … Mr. Marcus told us. Terrible business!”

Lilian had a question. “Are the flowers from him?”

“Yes.”

“They’re lovely.”

She ran her gaze over the mix of dahlias, carnations and roses, all bright and dazzling. “I should think they were expensive.”

“Yes. Very.”

“I’d better go.” It hurt her to realize that Tom was still sending flowers to his late wife. “Be careful not to hide mine.” Another lingering glance, before she hurried away.

Behind her, Gloria shivered. “God. She may be a looker, but she’s a strange one!” Setting the flowers beside the ones Lilian had brought, she tweaked them until they were to her satisfaction, then she stood up. She glanced around her nervously. Delivering flowers to the churchyard was not her favorite pastime, especially when they were meant for this particular place, and she thought she’d heard a noise.

It was probably nothing, she reasoned, turning and heading back to the car park, and her waiting van. She had another few deliveries to make in the churchyard, and then she’d be on her way.

She had finished the last of the jobs here, when she heard hurried steps behind her. “Oi, you!” The old caretaker was out of breath as he waddled to catch up with her. “Where the devil d’you think you’re going?”

“What do you mean?” She recognized him straight off. He was the one who had alerted her last time, when the flowers had been destroyed.

“What do I
mean
?” Grabbing her by the arm, he urged her to get out of the van. “I’ll
show
you what I mean!”

Leading her back to the far side of the big churchyard, he pointed to where she had recently set the flowers beside Lilian’s. “I suppose you were going off without clearing that little lot up, were you?”

“Oh, my God!” She could hardly believe her eyes. The vase, the flowers she had brought, were all smashed and strewn about the churchyard. It seemed whoever did it must have been driven by a terrible hatred, for not only was every head removed from each flower, but the stems were torn to tiny pieces.

“See what I have to put up with?” The old caretaker was beside himself. “It’s bad enough clearing up the usual rubbish, without being made to clear up deliberate vandalism!”

“They were all right when I left – what – quarter of an hour ago,” she muttered. “There was this woman … she was talking to …” A thought occurred to her. “Oh, my God!”

The old man’s voice pierced her thoughts. “You’d best clean it all up, ’cause
I’m
not going to!”

Before she could protest he had stomped off, and Gloria had no choice but to clear up the mess, retrieving the widely strewn pieces and carrying them to the nearest bin.

When she returned to the shop, it was to an icy reception. “Where on earth have you been?” Mrs. Taylor was hopping mad. “I’ve had to manage all on my own this past hour.”

“I’ve been at the churchyard.”

“What … all this time?”

“I think I know who’s been tearing up the flowers.”

“How?” Now she was paying attention.

“Well, there was this woman … about thirty-four … thirty-five. Attractive, well dressed.”

“What are you saying … that this woman is the one who’s been vandalizing the flowers?”

“I might be wrong, but, well … you judge for yourself.”

In an excited voice, she began outlining the events at the churchyard. “I was coming along the main path when I saw her there. She was bent right down, staring at the headstone and talking to herself … well, either that or she were talking to somebody else, and there was nobody else that I could see.”

“So … what did you do?” The manageress hoped they had spotted the vandal, because Mr. Marcus was coming to see them soon. It would be good if they had something positive to report.