The Beachcomber (53 page)

“Ah, but it should have been
Tom
looking after ye! He’s missing you, that’s for sure.”

Now, as Kathy made to protest, she put up a staying hand. “All right! I know what you’re going to say, and you’re right, so ye are! Tom has to concentrate on what he’s about. Sure, I do understand.”

All the same, Kathy thought, she wished she had the courage to call him. The truth was, she had never needed Tom more than she did now.

They both turned at the creak of the front door inching open.

It was Jasper, his hairy face and bright eyes peering through the gap he’d made. “It’s midday,” he reminded them. “Time for summat to eat.” Like Rosie, he had Kathy’s welfare at heart.

Rosie gave him a wink. “Come to take us somewhere exciting, have ye?”

He winked back. “You’ll have to wait an’ see, won’t you?”

Rosie had her own ideas. “The foyer of a posh hotel, and a pile of cucumber sandwiches with the crust cut off,” she suggested, “with a couple of tight-panted waiters obeying our every command.”

“Hmh!” Jasper laughed out loud. “That’s ’cause yer man-mad, you little hussy!”

Arriving from the inner office, the manager urged that they should not be gone longer than an hour. “There’s a mountain of paperwork to go through – apart from the filing – right down to the last receipt.” He groaned. “After that, every caravan wants cleaning and making ready for the winter.”

Rosie moaned. “I thought you were taking on a couple of part-timers to do that?”

“I’ve changed my mind.” Leaning on the counter, he grumbled, “It’s all right for you two. You’ve got a whole month off to do as you please. I’ll have to stay here, keeping an eye on the place.”

“You’ll be all right, so ye will.” Rosie had to have the last word. “No doubt you’ll be helping yourself to a tot of booze from the bar whenever the mood takes ye!” She laughed. “It wouldn’t surprise me if you didn’t have a woman here to keep ye company an’ all.”

“Hey!” Wagging a finger at her, he warned, “Unless you want me to take a firm hand with you, you’d better watch that wicked tongue of yours.”

Giving him the glad eye, Rosie winked at him. “Is that a threat or a promise?”

“I don’t make promises.”

“Shame!”

He blushed bright scarlet. “Go on with you. And make sure you’re back within the hour.”

Grabbing their coats, they went outside with Jasper. “Where are we going?” Being as they only had an hour, Kathy thought they might just have a sandwich at the bar.

“Don’t be so hasty, lass,” Jasper said with a grin. “Look at what I’ve got.” Rounding the corner, he pointed down the street. “Ladies! Your chariot awaits.”

At first Kathy couldn’t see what he meant, but then she saw and couldn’t believe her eyes. “That’s not
yours
, is it, Jasper?” He had been known to play a few tricks on the odd occasion, and she thought this was one.

Rosie looked down the street and saw it too, then she looked at Jasper. She saw the mischievous twinkle in his eye and laughed out loud. “Why, ye old bugger, you!” With her high heels clattering against the pavement, she went running down the street, whooping and hollering and frightening the pigeons. “Jasper’s got a car –” she wanted the whole world to know – “and a green one at that!”

Kathy was amazed. “What made you get a Morris Minor?” she asked with a chuckle.

“I just fancied going a bit mad, that’s all.” He grinned from ear to ear. “I allus wanted a car, and when I passed me test I could never afford one. I’ve saved over the years … not a lot, mind you, but enough to treat mesel’ in me twilight years. It’s not a new one but it’s in good nick.”

Clustered around the car, a few stragglers were taking an envious look over it. He told Kathy, “She’s so sweet, I’ve give her a name.”

Sliding her arm through his, she said softly, “Go on then … you can tell me.”

Patting her hand affectionately, he declared with pride, “Her name’s Dorothy. After me very first girlfriend.” He blushed at the memory.

Reaching up, Kathy gave him a kiss. “I think that’s a lovely name,” she said, “and I think
you’re
lovely too.”

She had never seen Jasper blush before, but today he had blushed twice. She couldn’t help but wonder if he had fallen for someone.

“Come on then, lass.” Propelling her forward, he opened the doors and invited them in.

It was quite a squeeze, with Rosie almost on Jasper’s knee and Kathy trapped between the seats. They managed to climb aboard, much to the amusement of the onlookers.

“Right then, Dorothy, lass.” Starting the engine, Jasper urged her on. “Let’s see what yer med of!”

It was a stuttering take-off, and when the little car leapt over the bumps in the road, Rosie twice banged her head and wouldn’t stop laughing. Kathy found herself doubled up, and Jasper accidentally put his foot on the brake, sending them forward to within an inch of the windscreen. “Will yer look at that?” he shouted. “I allus knew Dorothy was a goer!”

As they went off down the street, the sound of their laughter echoed from the walls. And though she had not intended it, Kathy found herself laughing until the tears fell. It was the first time she had laughed like that since before Tom left.

Arriving in Bridport, Jasper had three goes at trying to park. The first was when his front tire went up the curb and they all fell to one side and couldn’t get out.

The second time he was moved on by an irate householder with a yard-broom who chased them all the way down the street, yelling at the top of her voice, “Be off, and take that ugly monstrosity with you!”

When finally he got parked and they all tumbled out, Kathy realized they were right outside the café that Mabel’s husband owned. She couldn’t understand it. The place was closed down.

While Jasper was locking up his precious “Dorothy,” she spoke to a passer-by, who told her, “His wife left him, then he went off with some floozy. Mind you, he won’t get much money for that place. It’s not been the same since poor Mabel moved away.”

Kathy nodded. She had heard how that bully of a husband of hers was not doing so well, especially since the news got out of how he beat poor Mabel senseless. Serves him right, she thought. I hope the floozy gives him a run for his money.

After traveling for most of the day, Tom was on the last leg of his journey.

Disembarking from the train in Weymouth, he glanced up at the station clock. It was already quarter to five. He had a half-hour wait for the bus and another half-hour journey before he got into West Bay. The one and only thing on his mind right now was Kathy.

When the bus arrived he climbed on board, gave the conductor the required fare and took his ticket with thanks.

Hitching his ticket-machine higher up his shoulder, the conductor walked on, stopping at each seat to see if there was anyone else wanting a ticket. When there wasn’t, he came and sat down opposite Tom, eyes closed and for all the world looking like he might be having a crafty kip.

Tom smiled. The poor bloke looks done in, he thought. So when they stopped to collect more passengers, and he spied the familiar uniform of a bus inspector, he gently tapped the conductor on the leg. “Time to wake up,” he whispered, and by the time the inspector got on board the conductor was wide awake and tending to his duties “like a good ’un,” as Jasper might have said.

When the bus stopped at West Bay, the inspector got off just before Tom. “Thanks for that, mate,” the conductor told him. “If it hadn’t been for you, he’d have caught me good and proper.”

Tom told him it was no problem, and that he was glad to have been of help.

When the bus moved off, Tom was still standing there, his gaze reaching across the street to Barden House. For a time he savored the sight of the house. In his mind’s eye, he could see Kathy lying on the rug in front of the fire, and his heart leapt.

Quickly now, he made his way past the harbor and across the road, the sweet, salty tang of sea air filling his nostrils. Oh, but it was good, he thought.

At long last, he was home – and soon, thank God, he and Kathy could begin to make plans.

Inside the house, Kathy was alone; just as Tom had pictured her, she was lying across the rug in front of the fire, fascinated by the bright, leaping flames as they danced and wove themselves into a frenzy.

Tom was never far from her thoughts and now, as she wondered about him, she made a decision. “I’ll call him in the morning,” she murmured softly. “I miss him so much. I need to hear his voice. I need to tell him how much I love him. I won’t tell him about Samantha, not yet. I’ll just ask him to come home as soon as he can. I need him here, with me.”

Coming up the path, Tom saw that the curtains were open. Stepping onto the lawn, he peeped through the window. There she was, arms folded beneath her head and her face turned toward the fire. He smiled. “As I thought,” he whispered, “just the same.” There was something very comforting in that.

He knocked on the front door.

It was a moment before she answered.

The door opened and there she was, silhouetted in the soft light coming from the hallway; a small, familiar figure, sending a rush of contentment through his senses. In the background he could hear a song from the film,
Singin’ in the Rain
, playing on the wireless.

“Hello, darling.” His voice was soft, his eyes adoring. “You look wonderful!” In the pale blue dress with white collar and fitted waist, she seemed so young, he thought, so vulnerable.

For a brief second she stared through the semi-darkness, her eyes taking in his face, a momentary look of confusion in her gaze. “TOM!” Suddenly she was in his arms, and he was swinging her around. “Oh, Tom, thank God you’re back!”

Laughing and crying, she held him by the hand and led him inside. It had been the worst time of her entire life, but now that Tom was here everything would be all right.

Standing there, the room wrapping its warmth about them, tight in each other’s arms, they held each other close. For a time they were silent, just content being together. The light was dimmed, the fire crackled, and they were so much in love. There was no need for words.

In that precious moment, it was as though they had been through the darkness of a long frightening adventure, and now they were through it together, still safe, more in love than ever.

There was a need in them, a deep, trembling need that would not be held back any longer. Momentarily releasing her, he crossed the room and quietly closed the curtains, shutting out the night and its prying eyes.

She waited, her heart fast with anticipation, her eyes following his every move, until he was back with her, kissing her on the forehead, on the mouth, down the curve of her neck. And she, with uplifted face, offered herself to him.

Reaching down, his dark eyes enveloping her, he slid her dress away, then her undergarments, gasping with amazement as he unfolded her nakedness. “You’re so beautiful!”

Discarding his own garments, he drew her down to the rug, the heat from the fire playing on the skin of his back as he leaned over her. “I love you,” he murmured, his face so close to hers she could imagine herself melting into those dark eyes and being lost forever.

Now, as he entered her, she clung to him, afraid he might be disappointed in her, afraid he might not find her to be the woman he believed she was. But she need not have worried, for she was everything his heart desired.

The lovemaking was not a frantic thing, nor was it soon over. This was another adventure, a most beautiful, wonderful experience: discovering each other’s bodies, touching, exploring; the exquisite binding of two lonely, desperate souls.

It was the long-awaited realization of a love that had grown from the heart and was now blossoming to fulfillment.

When it was over, they lay there, content in each other’s arms, eyes closed, faces uplifted, their glistening bodies gently washed over by the heat from the fire.

They lay there for a while, side by side, with Kathy rolled against him, her arm over the expanse of his chest. Drawing her close, Tom stroked her arm, his senses lulled by the smooth softness of her skin, and the gentle rhythmic warmth of her breath against his neck.

Some time later, when they were dressed, he brought her a drink and they sat together, talking of their love, making plans. As yet, neither of them was ready to break the moment by revealing the darker things on their minds, of jealousy and murder, and all those things that have no place in a quiet heart.

Yet, at some time, they had to be said.

After a while, he held her at arm’s length. “I telephoned you a few times,” he revealed. “I left messages, but you never rang back.”

Dropping her gaze, she answered, “There is something I have to tell you. You know my sister, Samantha, came to see me.”

Tom nodded. “Of course, she was here when I left for London.”

“She wanted to take this house from me. She said Father should have left it to her, because she was the eldest.”

Tom knew now why she hadn’t called him. He had sensed the tension between the two women, and now he knew the cause of it. “And you didn’t call me because you knew I’d be straight back on the next train, is that it?”

Kathy nodded, taking a moment to break the awful news to him, her voice trembling. “Something happened,” she whispered. “Something
terrible!
”