The Body on the Beach (The Weymouth Trilogy) (28 page)

‘I thought I had better bring him back to you, Kathryn,’ explained Mr Berkeley, taking her hand. ‘I know you will need his assistance in getting ready for your move. Unfortunately he appears unlikely to be much good to you just for the moment, though I expect he will sober up soon. After all, to my knowledge he has not had a drink since four this morning, when he was thrown unceremoniously out of Mr Brewer’s house after being
unforgivably
rude to him for the previous hour or more. I had gone home myself at about the same hour. I was just on my way over to visit Sandsford when I saw him still slumped on Mr Brewer’s front steps, much where I had
left
him
last night
. It did not appear a very comfortable bed. He has complained loudly enough about it all the way back here.’

‘Thank you so much, Andrew. As you say
, I could do with his help
. Not that there is very much to pack – it appears that Mr Brewer has purchased almost everything in the sale – but I will need him to carry his share when we take it into Weymouth on Monday.’

They had followed Giles into the kitchen. He was slumped morosely at the table. Andrew and Kathryn looked at each other and said nothing.

‘I was actually on my way to see Tom and Sally, if you are happy for me to speak to them, Mrs Miller. I have a little employment proposition to make to them. I find I have need of a couple of extra pairs of hands and thought that they may be interested in working for me at Belvoir - if I may?’

Kathryn
gave him a grateful
smile. What a thoughtful friend he had proved himself to be. Of course she would be happy
for him to sp
eak to
them
.
There was nothing she would like more than for him to speak to them.
It would
be another
weight off her mind. Indeed, she
felt that she
would have been more than hap
py to work for him herself.

Sally was still in the wash-house and Tom would doubtless be nearby. She let him out through the back door and then turned to
face
her husband, who had picked up
his guns
from the dresser
behind him, where he had left them
the
previous
day, and was polishing
t
hem
morosely, muttering to himself.

She looked at him mutely.

‘Don’t look at me like that,’ he snapped. ‘You are looking reproachful. I do not like it. It is not warranted.’

Kathryn let out a deep sigh. She was not in the mood for this today.

‘What has happened this time, Giles?’ she asked him. ‘What has gone wrong for you now?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean that you are upset about something. I know you well enough by now. You always get like this when something has gone wrong.’

‘Get like what?’

‘Like you are now – jumpy, angry, morose. It frightens me, Giles. It only makes things worse.’

‘Worse? What do you know about making things worse? It is only you that ever makes things worse.’

‘I do
n
’
t know how you can say that, Giles.
It seems to me that I only ever try to make things better.’

‘And you think that I do not? You think that I take pleasure in seeing things fall apart? You think that I am happy that I have lost all my money yet again? Happy that Brewer’s a thieving, cheating bastard and has conned me
out
of the lot? It’s when I try to make things better that things go wrong. And I only ever try to make things better for your sake. So it has to be your fault. If it wasn’t for you none of this would have happened in the first place.’

The last thing that Kathryn wanted was yet another fight with him. So she watched him
silently
for a moment as he grumbled incoherently about the filthy state of his gun
s
.

‘Well I shouldn‘t worry
too much
about them
if I were you, Giles,’ she said, after a while. ‘I am sure t
hat Mr Brewer will not expect them
to look perfect after all.’

Giles cast her a puzzled look.

‘Brewer? What on earth has Brewer got to do with it?’

‘Mr Br
ewer has included them in his purchase, Giles. They
will belong to him on Monday – indee
d, strictly speaking, they belong
to him already. I shouldn
’
t
worry too much about polishing
t
hem
if I were you. There are more important things to be done at any rate.’

‘But a man needs his guns. What gentleman does not possess a gun? You are talking nonsense as usual, Kitty. I shall not be leaving my guns.’

‘But you will have no say in the matter, Giles. The guns are on the inventory, I am certain of it, along with almost everything else that we owned. And anyway, there would not be room in the apartment for them. It is quite compact, you know.’

As she said this the back door opened and Sally entered the kitchen with an arm full of washing, closely followed by Mr Berkeley, who was similarly endowed. They proceeded to hang it up
in front of the fire
on a string which had already been slung there for the purpose.

‘The apartment? What apartment?’

‘The room I have taken in Weymouth.’ Kathryn was starting to feel just a little exasperated with him. He appeared to have forgotten all about the need for their removal.

‘But we are not going to Weymouth. I had told you already that I did not like that room. It smells. I have arranged it all myself. We are going to Osmington Mills. We shall be sharing Mr Chard’s house for a while.’

Kathryn was aghast.

‘Osmington Mills? But I do not wish to go to Osmington Mills, Giles. Osmington Mills is a good three miles further on. I need to be in Weymouth. It will take me far too long to walk to Weymouth from Osmington Mills. Osmington Mills will not suit the purpose at all.’

‘
You
do not wish to go? And since when have
your
wishes been of any consideration whatsoever?’

‘Well perhaps it is about time that you did consider them, Mr Miller,’ put in Andrew, from the fireplace, apparently quite unable to maintain his silence any longer. ‘After all, your wife is the innocent party in all of this. It is not her fault that you have robbed her of her home. I would have thought it the least you could do, to consider her wishes for a change.’

Giles glared penetratingly at the man who was making free with his washing by the fire.

‘And since when have my wife’s wishes been anything at all to do with you?’ he asked in a loud voice. ‘In fact, now I think of it, what gives you the right to stand here in my kitchen at all, listening to my private conversations and butting in all the time?’

‘I need to be in Weymouth for my work, Giles,’ said Kathryn, soft
l
y. ‘We will need an income, after all. I will need to take on as much work as I can find. I cannot possibly do that if we hide ourselves away at Osmington Mills.’

Giles leapt out of his chair, which fell backwards with a crash, threw his gun down onto the table, strode over to her and grabbed her shoulders.

‘Work? What work?’ he yelled, giving her a shake. ‘Since when did you do a day’s work in your life, you stupid bitch? You have never done anything for me – not one thing since I met you. It has all been left to me. Who is the one who works for a living in this household? Eh? I am. Who is the one who risks death every day playing cat and mouse with the blasted Revenue? Eh? I am. Who is the one who goes shooting for rabbits and birds to put some meat on your miserable table? Oh, I am again. How strange. And all you do is to swan ab...’

’That’s enough, Miller. Can you not see that you are hurting her?’

Giles, indeed, was shaking his wife so hard that Andrew was afraid that he should shake her off her chair.

‘Do you know something, Berkeley,’ (Andrew was a little relieved that he h
ad managed to divert
Giles’ attention away from Kathryn for a moment.) ‘I am getting just a little fed up with all your interference. Will you shut up, or would you like me to close your mouth for you?’

Andrew took a step in his direction. Giles leapt back, glaring. His
thigh hit the muzzle of his pistol. He spun
around and fingered it.

Kathryn was starting to
quake. She sensed that t
hings
were getting out of hand
.

‘Giles. Giles, please sit down, my love
,’ she pleaded. ‘
There is nothing to get angry about. Andrew was kind enough to bring you home, after all.’

‘Andrew? Oh, so it’
s Andrew now, is it? Andrew, indeed. And what does he call you, this Andrew, my dear innocent wife? Kathryn? Kitty, maybe? Or something altogether more personal? Eh? Eh? You ought to be ashamed of yourself
, you smug little self-satisfied bitch
.
Andrew indeed. And d
o you know,
now I think of it I always thought
that that bastard of a brat of yours was onto something. I knew...’

‘Stop right there, Miller. You have insulted your wife quite enough. She is as innocent as a
little child
and I can tell you that for nothing. She has not once done anything to be ashamed of – not one thing – aye, and I have urged her often enough to do so I can tell you, you ignorant, pathetic little worm. I will not have you saying anything against her
– not one word, do you hear?
It is you who should be ashamed. It is you who should hang your head and beg her forgiveness. God only knows that she deserves it.’

‘Me? Ashamed? What the devil should I feel ashamed about? I am her husband, Berkeley, in case you should forget. I am the bitch’s husband, the devil curse her, and I
can do with her whatever I want to do
.’

‘Her husband? Her husband? And what right does being her hu
sband give you to abuse her so vi
olently
– eh? What right does being her husband give you to rob her of everything she ever had, everything she ever cared for – eh? Why, have you forgotten the vows you made when you married her?
She
has not forgotten
he
r
vows to
you
– nay, not even once. You promised to support her, did you not? You promised to give her everything that was yours. You promised to love her as she loved you, and all you have done is to spurn her, abuse her, neglect her at every turn. She has spent her marriage running after you, doing your bidding, subordinating her every wish to yours. She has suffered your abuse without rancour. You have insulted her in front of your friends and laughed in her face. She has seen her dear aunt thrown out of her home and into poverty and death – a poverty that she faces herself now, because of you. She has seen you take her darling little son – a shining light, the light of her life - to his
death. You have beaten her, ridicul
ed her, degrad
ed
her
. You have given her months of heartache, months of fear, months of desperation.
You have lost her respect and you have lost her love.
Look at your wife, Miller. Look her in the eye and then tell me that it is not so.’

Giles was still fingering his gun. He was taking quick, sharp little breaths. His shoulders were heaving convulsively. He looked at Kathryn. He looked fearful and cowed.

‘It is not true. Tell him, Kitty. I love you so much, I could not possibly do those horrible things to you. He is lying. He wants you for himself. Tell him it is not so.’

Kathryn
was still quaking but she
shook her head very slightly.
She was not prepared to lie to him,
not prepared t
o pretend for him any more. Giles
had
finally
lost
his
tenuous
grip on reality and she
would not,
could
n
o
t follow him into the
abyss
.
She would
have to
tell him the truth at long last and be prepared to
take
the consequences of what she had to
say
.

‘It is all true, Giles,’
she
said, quietly. ‘Every word of it is true. I loved you once. I loved you so much that it hurt. And since that time you have syste
matically destroyed that love. With every insult, with every blow y
ou have dismantled it, piece by piece, and torn it from me until there is nothing left
to tak
e
. I loved you once, Giles Miller, but
while I will honour my pledges to you and to God – I will stand by you and support you
faithfully
as I promised to do
in church
-
I can never, ever show any love for you again.’