The Beachcomber (42 page)

Mabel’s ready smile greeted Kathy as she came in the door. “I’ve something to tell you,” she said.

Kathy gave her a kiss. “Something exciting, is it?”

Mabel revealed her little secret. “I told you I had a brother I hadn’t seen in years, and I had no idea where he was anymore,” she said animatedly.

“Yes, I remember.” Kathy settled herself into the chair beside the bed. “So, have you heard from him?”

Mabel’s eyes shone. “It seems that eventually he found out where I lived, and went there. The next-door neighbor heard him knocking and told him what had happened … how he didn’t believe that I’d fallen down the stairs, and that my husband had beaten me twice before, that he knew of.”

She paused to take a breath, before going on. “Well, my dear, Eric, that’s my brother, he went to the café and gave that bully a real roasting. He warned him that, if he had his way, I wouldn’t be going back there to be his skivvy.”

Exhausted now, she had to stop for a moment.

Kathy waited for her to recover before asking softly, “And did he?”

“What?”

“Did he get his own way … about you not going back there to be his skivvy?”

Mabel chuckled. “Oh, Kathy, I’m that excited. When I get out of here – in a few days, they say – Eric will have a car to take me away from here. Apparently he never married. He tried many a time to find me, but never could.”

Taking a moment to calm herself, she smiled. “I’m not sure I believe that,” she said wisely, “but at least he’s found me now, and that’s all as matters. He’s done well for himself. After he got demobbed he set up a taxi business. He’s got a nice house and he’s not short of money, or so he tells me.” Again that wide, happy smile that gladdened Kathy’s heart. “He wants me to go and live with him, and I’ve said yes.”

She giggled like a naughty schoolgirl. “I’ll be shot of the café and I’ll be shot of that big bully! Oh, Kathy! I can’t believe my good fortune.”

Kathy was delighted for her. “You deserve it,” she said warmly, but added, “You’ll have to tell me where you’re going, Mabel. I don’t want us to lose touch.”

“That won’t happen,” Mabel promised. “Look in that drawer.” Pointing to the bedside cabinet, she waited for Kathy to open the drawer. “There! That piece of paper.”

Kathy found it.

“Read it, my dear,” Mabel urged. “It’s my new address.”

Kathy read it aloud. “The Grange, Pleasington, Blackburn, Lancashire.”

“That’s where you’ll find me,” Mabel told her.

“But that’s North – inland, isn’t it, Mabel? Won’t you miss the seaside?”

“No.” Softly, Mabel slid her hand into Kathy’s, her eyes swimming with tears and her voice quivering with emotion. “I’m going
home
, lass,” she told her. “Me and Eric were born in Blackburn. It turns out he went back there after the war, and I wish to God I’d done the same. But, oh, you don’t know how glad my old heart is that, after all this time, I’m going back where I belong.”

The next half-hour was filled with talk of Mabel’s new-found family, and of her great excitement at going home, to Blackburn.

Kathy made no mention of her own troubles. She was glad for Mabel, and wished her well, but was sad for herself. She had grown extremely fond of Mabel, an older woman whom she could trust and admire in a way she never could her own mother.

Just before she left, Kathy met Mabel’s brother, who had come to tell her of his plans. They hugged and held onto each other and Kathy thought it was a joy to see.

A small, stocky man with a kindly face and a warm, pleasant manner, Eric thanked Kathy for befriending his sister. “My Mabel has talked a lot about you,” he said. “Thank you for being such a good friend to her.”

Kathy told him how much she thought of Mabel and that she was happy for her now. “Take care of her, won’t you?” she said, and he promised he would.

When she left it was with tears in her eyes and a great lump in her throat. At least that dear woman would never again have to put up with being beaten to within an inch of her life.

It was late afternoon when she climbed onto the bus. Troubled about her own affairs, she turned her thoughts to Samantha. She hoped she might have gone but, knowing Samantha from old, she somehow suspected that she would still be there. If that was the case, then she would have to be firmer. She felt a sudden desperate desire to be with Tom. He would understand; he would know what to do. But with a lurch of her heart she remembered that he might not be around to help her fight this battle. He was leaving for London tonight. Well, Kathy decided, she would have to manage by herself. Samantha had come here to rob her of her home, and she was not going to allow her to get away with it!

Five minutes later, as the bus made its way down the road that led to West Bay, it passed the boarding house. Deep in thought, Kathy didn’t see the taxi draw up, or notice as it dropped off a young woman in a burgundy dress, burgundy shoes and a black coat, and carrying a smart leather case.

As the bus came to a halt, Kathy stepped off and hurried through the streets, along by the harbor, and toward Barden House.

Tom would be here soon; more than ever she was looking forward to seeing him. He was leaving for London on the early evening train. Who knew when she would see him again?

It was with a sinking heart that she saw a light burning in the house.

Coming into the sitting room, she found Samantha still there. Lolling in the chair, with her bare feet propped up on the fender, she was happily warming her toes.

On Kathy’s arrival, she said casually, “The kettle’s on if you want a drink. Oh, and if you’re making a brew, I’ll have a cup as well.” Bold as brass, and with the slyest of grins, she added, “Oh, by the way, Tom came here looking for you this afternoon.”

Kathy was instantly on the alert. “Did he come in?”

“I asked him to, but he said he’d come back.” Softly chuckling, she wiggled her toes. “Shame, that. We could have spent a pleasant hour together.” She gave Kathy a curious glance. “Still, there’ll be another time, I expect.”

She had worked out that if she couldn’t have the house, she might have to settle for Tom instead. After all, he was good-looking, rich enough to keep her happy, and he had a boat. What more could a girl want?

“Did he say why he’d come down earlier than we’d planned?”

“No, why?”

Kathy murmured her answer. “That’s funny. I told him I might not be back from the hospital until about tea-time.”

Again, that sly little glance. “He’s a man, isn’t he? A woman never knows what’s on their devious minds.”

Wisely ignoring Samantha’s jibes, Kathy pointed out, “I asked you to be gone when I got back. What’s keeping you?”

Getting out of her chair, Samantha sauntered to where Kathy stood. “I told you before,” she said, “I’m not leaving until I get what I came for.”

“I can see I’ll have to get you
thrown
out!”

Samantha thought that amusing. “Hmh! I don’t think so. I’m my father’s daughter, too … the eldest one, don’t forget. So, if I were you, sis, I’d be very careful what you say to people around here. They might begin to wonder whether it was fair that you alone should get our father’s house.”

She stared at Kathy for a full half-minute before laughing in her face. “I’m going out tonight – oh, and don’t try locking me out, or I’ll have to break a window, and what would the neighbors say then?” She yawned. “I’m just going for a lie-down. Then I’ll have a bath … I hope there’s hot water in this dump. After that, I’m off to the pub to get drunk.”

Realizing she was being goaded, Kathy didn’t say anything. Instead she stepped aside to let Samantha through.

When she was gone, Kathy wondered how it would all end. There were times with Samantha when she felt out of her depth.
This was one of those times
.

She desperately needed someone to confide in. She really wanted to talk to Tom, but was it fair to burden him with all this, especially when he was leaving for London tonight? Maggie was in London. There was only one other person who would understand.

“Hurry back, Jasper,” she muttered. “I need your help!”

After asking the taxi-driver to wait for her, Lilian climbed the steps to the front door of the boarding house.

One push on the big heavy door and she was inside a small vestibule. Another door led to the hallway, where she found the reception desk set into the recess under the stairs. None of it was what she was used to, but apparently there were only two boarding houses in the area, and no hotel as such. This one was nearest to the harbor, or so she had been told.

There was a brass bell on the desk, which she thumped a couple of times before a small woman with an angular face appeared. “Yes, can I help you?” In spite of her sharp appearance, she was extremely pleasant.

“Lilian Scott,” she introduced herself. “I have a booking; I rang a few days ago.”

The woman located her name in the ledger. “Oh, yes. And how long will you be staying?”

“Just the one night.” Lilian had high hopes. “I’m here to locate a friend; I expect to be staying with him from tomorrow.”

She would have gone straight to Tom’s with her suitcase, but felt it might be best to see him first. She could always come back for her case.

“How did you find out about us, my dear?” The landlady always asked her guests that question: it helped to place the adverts in the right places.

“One of the salesmen from my company knew the area. He had stopped here a few times on his travels. He gave me your address some time back.” And she had kept it safe until she thought the time was right to pay Tom a visit.

Showing a double row of small, brilliant white teeth, the woman grinned. “That’s good,” she said. “Word of mouth is by far the best way to build up a business.”

A moment later, Lilian had signed the necessary form, paid her deposit and, following the woman up a long narrow flight of stairs, was taken to her room.

It was a poky place, with a tiny window overlooking the main road, and a bed that looked as if it was out of the ark. “I pride myself on my cleanliness.” Flinging the eiderdown back, the woman displayed the stark-white sheets underneath. “If the bed is clean, you can be sure everything else is too, that’s my motto.”

She showed Lilian where the bathroom was, and told her what time breakfast would be, and which room to go to. “You can get food at the pub, or there’s the fish and chip shop,” she told her. Then she bade her goodnight and went back down to her half-read newspaper.

Left on her own, Lilian unpacked only what she needed, afterward laying the case on the armchair in the corner. She paid a visit to the bathroom, where she splashed her face and neck with cold water to freshen up.

Ten minutes after arriving, she was on her way out, to where the taxi-driver had been taking a well-earned nap. “Sorry, Miss!” Her tapping on the window had woken him. Leaping out, he let her into the car, before clambering back into the driving seat, shivering when the chilly evening air got into his bones. “The harbor is it, Miss?” She had mentioned it before.

Lilian gave him the full address and, filled with excitement at the thought of seeing Tom, she anxiously settled back. She had to think what she would say, because he didn’t even know she was coming. “I hope he’ll be pleased to see me.”

The driver cocked an ear. “What was that, Miss?”

“Nothing.” Lilian grew agitated. “I was just thinking out loud.”

Curious, he sneaked a look at her in his mirror; to see her softly talking to herself, and sometimes smiling. “God! I hope I haven’t picked up some bloody crackpot.” There had been a case in Dorchester where a driver was attacked by his passenger. It was the first time anyone had heard of such a thing. In the end it turned out to be some drunk who’d had an argument with his girlfriend. Right now, he was languishing in prison where he belonged.

By the time they came up the hill toward Tom’s house, Lilian’s heart was beating nineteen to the dozen. “Be in, Tom,” she muttered, increasingly anxious. “
Please be in!
”

She was disappointed. When they arrived, the house was in darkness; however many times she banged on the door, there was no answer.

“What the devil d’you think you’re doing … trying to knock the damned door down, from the sound of it!” The man from next door had been alerted by her continuous banging. “He’s not in – can’t you tell that … I mean, look! The house is in darkness. If he were in, you’d expect there to be a light on.”

An old misery, he kept himself to himself, though he quietly relished the gossip in the village shop, and liked to watch the goings-on from his window. What he
didn’t
like was being disturbed by some stranger pounding on next door.

He shook his fist at her. “Clear off! And give an old man some peace, why don’t you?”

Lilian was desperate. “Do you know where I can find him?”

The man continued chewing on his baccy, his avaricious old eyes noting the slim figure and the pretty face, and he smiled knowingly. “Who are
you
then?”

Now that she was here, Lilian’s fantasy had become reality. “I’m his sweetheart.”

“I see.” He chewed a bit more and stared at her a bit longer before asking, “Does he know you’re looking for him?” In his own youth he had often played one woman off against another. It was a man’s thing.