The Beachcomber (9 page)

Over the coming week, Jasper was a godsend.

Tom had settled into the cottage as though he was born to it, and the two men became firm friends. Though he would have liked to cut himself off from the world, Tom knew there were practical things he must do, such as letting his bank and other agencies know his change of address, and sorting out the rental agreement for the cottage. He had thought about applying for a telephone to be installed. Having a telephone line to the outside world went against all Tom’s plans – and it would be expensive. But he worried about whether he should have a line for emergencies, and for keeping in touch with his good friend Lilian and his brother Dougie. In the end he decided to wait and see. There was a payphone just down the road.

“I expect you’ll want to arrange deliveries of milk and newspaper too,” the old man suggested, but Tom refused that idea. “I think it would be better if I walked down to Amy’s and collected them,” he decided and, for once, Jasper agreed.

By the evening after his arrival in West Bay, Tom had managed to get most of the practicalities dealt with and out of the way. To celebrate, he and Jasper paid a visit to the pub, where they drank a pint of best bitter and chatted to the locals.

Afterward, Jasper introduced him to Amy. “Any friend of Jasper’s is a friend of mine,” she said. Tom was astonished at how tiny and vibrant she was. Looking into her deep brown eyes and noting the sunshine of her smile, Tom could understand what Jasper had said. Yes, he thought, she has a goodness that shines out. And, like Jasper, he was filled with admiration.

The next morning, Tom was up early. For whatever reason he had found it difficult to sleep. “Must have been the beer,” he groaned, rubbing his stomach with the flat of his hand.

As he couldn’t sleep, he got washed and dressed and made his way downstairs, where he searched the cupboards, greatly relieved to find that Jasper had allowed for all occasions. The bicarbonate of soda in a glass of water was just what the doctor ordered.

While the kettle was boiling he threw open the back door and stood watching the sun come up. “Looks like it’ll be a glorious day,” he murmured. Already the air was warm and the skies blue, with no hint of a cloud anywhere. “Makes a man feel good!” He had not even spent forty-eight hours in West Bay, and already he was beginning to relax.

He drank his tea, and a few minutes later he had put on his jacket and was making his way to the cliff tops. High above the world, striding through the fields and on toward the sea, he felt like a man out of his time. It was a weird and wonderful feeling.

Down below in the hamlet, Amy was sorting the newspapers, with the help of Jasper, who every morning insisted on lifting the heavy bundles as they came in. “Look!” Amy had caught sight of the man at the top of the cliff. “It’s odd for someone to be walking the cliffs at this early hour, don’t you think?”

Curious, Jasper looked up. “It’s that Tom chap.” He recognized him straight away: the long, lean figure and that mop of hair, made unruly by the wild air-currents that swirled up from the beach below. “Poor devil. Looks like he couldn’t sleep.”

Amy suspected that Tom was a man with troubles but, like Jasper, she asked no questions. Now, though, she was curious. “Whatever’s he doing up there, at ten to six of a morning?” A terrible thought crossed her mind. “He’s not going to throw himself over, is he?”

“Good God no!” Jasper chided. “What little I know of him, I wouldn’t say he were the sort to throw himself over a cliff!” Though it would not be the first time a man had leaped from the cliff tops to end it all.

Jasper studied Tom for a moment longer, quietly satisfied that he would come to no harm up there. All the same, he could tell that Tom was deeply troubled; from the way he sat hunched on the boulder, so still, his head bent low to the ocean, as though deep in thought.

“What’s he doing?” Like Jasper, Amy was concerned.

“He’s searching, lass.”

“Searching … for what?”

Jasper shrugged. “Who knows?” He shook his head. He wondered what might be going on in Tom’s mind at that minute. He remembered the way it had been with him, and his heart went out to that young man. “He’s looking for what we all want,” he murmured. “Contentment … peace of mind, call it what yer will.”

Something in his voice made Amy reach out to touch him. “Let’s hope he finds it then,” she said softly. “You too, Jasper.”

The old man squeezed her hand. “Yer a lovely lady,” he said.

She laughed at that. “Flatterer!”

Drawing away, she wagged a finger at him. “We’d best get on with these papers, or they’ll not be delivered by this time next week!”

As they worked, Jasper occasionally glanced up to where Tom was, high above the world, away from all things painful. “After a time it won’t hurt so much,” he murmured. “It’ll get easier, son, you’ll see.” He gave a long, shivering sigh. “Whatever it is that haunts yer, it’ll get easier, I promise.”

He hoped there would come a day when Tom might confide in him. After all, everybody needs a friend, he thought. As for himself, he had been fortunate in finding one in little Amy.

Up on the cliff top, Tom was oblivious to the interest he had caused. He thought about his wife and children, and he smiled. “I wish I’d brought you here to this lovely place, when I had the chance,” he whispered, “but you’re here in my thoughts and in my heart.” Before, when he thought of them, he had found it hard to breathe for the pain, but now, when he thought of them, it was with a strange sense of joy. “I’ve been a lucky man.”

He looked straight ahead, as though speaking to a physical presence. “I’ve had the love of three wonderful people, and I’ve shared their lives. That’s something that can never be taken away.”

There was something else, too, and the hatred was like a bad taste in his mouth. “You might be hard to trace, you murderous bastard!” Instinctively clutching his fist until the knuckles bled white, he spoke in a whisper. “But I’ll find you and, when I do, you’ll rue the day you took my family from me.”

Time and again he had searched his mind for a reason, and each time he was forced to surmise that the person who ran him over that cliff-edge must have been out of his mind. But it made no difference. “Madman or fool, you took three lives that day … and ruined another.”

A terrible sense of rage overwhelmed him. “You’ll pay for it. When the time is right, I’ll take up your trail and make you pay for what you did!”

He stood up and strode away, his face set hard as stone as he walked toward the cottage and a measure of sanctuary. For now he must give himself the time he so badly needed. But the day would come when he would heal. His mind would clear and he would be able to think straight.

On that day, he would set out to find the killer.

And he would not rest until he found him!

“F
OR
G
OD’S SAKE,
Kathy!” Trying unsuccessfully for the umpteenth time to fasten the portmanteau, Maggie sat back on her knees and groaned. “What the hell have you got in here … the kitchen sink?” Suddenly free of her weight, the portmanteau heaved a sigh and up popped the lid. “Oh no … not
again
! Throwing herself flat on the floor, arms outstretched and eyes closed, she told Kathy, “That’s it, gal. I give up!”

Up to her neck in scattered clothes and half-filled boxes, Kathy threw down the saucepan she was carrying and walked across the room. Leaning over the prostrate figure of her friend, she suggested invitingly, “What say we stop for a cup of tea?”

Looking up through one weary, open eye, Maggie wanted to know, “Is there any o’ that fruitcake left?”

Kathy rolled her eyes. “Oh, I dare say I can find us a piece … but only
if
you can stop swearing and moaning long enough to eat it!”

Maggie scrambled up. “Go on then, gal. Go to it.”

While Kathy busied herself at that, Maggie made another attempt to close the portmanteau lid, whooping and hollering when it finally clicked into place. “But
you
can carry it down the stairs!” she warned Kathy as they sat at the table with their tea and cake. “I’ve got a date on Thursday.” She chuckled naughtily. “I’d rather not turn up ruptured … if you know what I mean?”

Kathy gave her a warning in return. “As long as you don’t end up
pregnant
instead!”

Maggie was indignant. “No chance. I’m not
that
stupid!”

“All the same, be careful. You know as well as I do … blokes are only ever out for one thing.”

“Not this one.”

Replacing her empty cup on the table, Kathy was curious, “Who is he, then?”

“Just a bloke.” Shrugging her shoulders, Maggie bent her head to the tea in front of her.

Realizing, Kathy groaned. “Oh, Maggie! It’s not that cunning devil who kept bothering you the last time we were at the Palais, is it? The one who kept combing his hair and winking every time you turned round?”

Maggie went on the defensive. “It might be.”

Sitting back in her chair, Kathy sighed. “Maggie! Maggie! Will you never learn?”

Wide-eyed and accusing, Maggie stared back at her. “What’s wrong with him, that’s what
I’d
like to know?”

“Well, for starters, he’s vain and arrogant, and for another, didn’t you see his snidey ‘mates,’ sniggering and carrying on behind him?”

“So?” Now she was really on the defensive.

Undeterred, Kathy spelled it out. “So … they were egging him on. You said that yourself.” She was convinced. “I reckon he’s trying to get off with you for a bet.”

“I asked him that and he denied it,” Maggie answered sulkily.

“Oh, did you now?” This was something Kathy had not been aware of. “So, you thought the same, did you? You never told me.”

Maggie didn’t like being cornered. “All right, it did cross my mind that he just might be trying it on for a bet, but he wasn’t.” Leaning forward, she gave Kathy one of her “leave me alone” stares.

Kathy got the message. “Okay, I won’t say another word.”

“Good!” Sighing loudly, she told Kathy, “I really like him. Anyway, I know how to look after myself.”

“Fair enough.” Not wanting to upset her, Kathy backed off. “Just be wary, that’s all I’m saying.” Her own mistake with Geoff was in her mind.

Secretly, Maggie still had her own doubts about her date, but she was feeling lonely already, and Kathy hadn’t even gone yet. “What about
you?
”

“What d’you mean?”

“Are you sure you’re doing the right thing?”

Kathy gave a half-smile. “No.”

“Then don’t do it.”

“It’s too late now. I’ve broken it off with Geoff, I’ve left my job, my flat’s been rented out to someone else and, thanks to you, I’m already packed.” Glancing at the portmanteau, she laughed. “If it bursts open on the train, I’ll pretend it’s not mine.”

At that, Maggie laughed with her, before making a serious suggestion. “If you change your mind, you know they’ll give you back your job, because they said so. And you can always bunk in with me until you find another flat.”

Kathy thanked her, but, “This is something I have to do, Mags,” she replied thoughtfully. “I believe that house at West Bay was left to me for a purpose. Dad wanted me to have it, and I need to go there.”

“Well, yes, I understand that, but why can’t the pair of us go together … just for a week, to get the lay of the land. There’s no need to throw away everything, not when you’re not sure what you might be walking into.”

Kathy didn’t see it that way. “We’ve been through all this, Mags, and I’m still determined to go … though I wish you were coming with me, at least for a holiday.” Lowering her voice, she tried to explain how she felt. “I’ve no family to speak of … except you. I work hard and pay my bills and sometimes I can’t see the point of it all. I’m not happy, Mags … I haven’t been since Dad … well, not for a long time, and what with Mother always on my back, and Samantha whining and moaning at every little thing, I think I’d have gone crazy if it wasn’t for you.”

“But look, Kathy … packing up and moving to a strange place … to a broken-down old house you’ve never even seen?” Pausing, she let the words sink in. “It’s such a drastic step.”

Kathy was unmoved. “But I’ve got nothing to lose.” She gave a smile that was meant to put all Maggie’s doubts aside. “I’ll be all right, you’ll see.”