The Cornish Guest House (42 page)

‘And if it wasn’t for her, we might never have found your daughter,’ Liz reminded him. ‘It must have taken a lot of courage to go to London and inform on her husband. I wonder what’ll happen to her now.’

Rosie had nodded off in one of the armchairs, her head resting at an awkward angle, her lips slightly apart, and she was making snuffling noises in her sleep.

Robert yawned. ‘We should go to bed.’ It was well after 1 a.m.

He lifted Rosie up – she was very light – and she stirred only slightly as he carried her towards the door.

‘Do you think I can go and see Jesse?’ Loveday asked. ‘Will he let me speak to him?’

Robert paused, wishing that he could give her the answer she wanted.

‘I honestly don’t know if he’ll even open the door to you,’ he said truthfully. ‘But you have to try.’

Sitting around Shelley’s cramped kitchen table on Saturday morning with her and her two children, Charlie and Amber, while Oscar played next door, Tabitha found herself wondering if she’d emerged from a deep sleep to discover that the life she’d thought she’d had was a dream and that this was her true family, her reality.

If Shelley had been dismayed when, three nights previously, Tabitha and Oscar had arrived on her doorstep at nearly midnight, accompanied by two police officers, she’d tried not to show it. Unable to think of a single other person to contact, Tabitha had called her from the police station and asked for a bed for a few nights. Where she and Oscar would sleep after that, and indeed far into the future, she had no idea. All she’d known was that there was no way she’d return to The Stables. That chapter of her life was finished.

Shelley had been remarkably accommodating, given that Tabitha had disappeared to London without a word, that she, Shelley, had been unceremoniously laid off work and then, to crown it all, the boss had been arrested. Her house in Callington had only two bedrooms, one for her and her husband and the other for their two children, but she’d made up a mattress for Oscar on the floor of the front room.

‘I’m afraid you’ll have to take the sofa,’ she’d said apologetically, through bleary eyes. ‘Bathroom’s at the top of the stairs and help yourself to tea or coffee or anything you want.’

Tabitha had thanked her warmly, more grateful than she could say for the sight of a soft pillow and duvet, desperate to close her eyes and forget for a few short hours that any of this had ever happened.

She’d imagined that she’d sleep like a baby but, instead, she’d lain awake for hours, listening to the unfamiliar creaks and rattles of a strange house and chewing over all that had happened. Oscar was flat out, having dropped off somewhere between Exeter and Newton Abbot, and he’d barely stirred when she’d carried him inside. He’d had a peculiar and exhausting day, most of it spent in the company of a smiley female police officer who’d done her best to entertain him while Tabitha was being questioned, and by the time they’d clambered in the car, he’d been way past his best.

He’d screamed for a good ten minutes before nodding off beside Tabitha on the back seat, his body still shuddering with sobs. For the rest of the journey she’d stroked his cheek and hair, his head propped on her arm, and stared out of the window into the blackness, trying not to wonder what would become of them or dwell on the fact that, unbeknown to her son, his secure little world had well and truly crumbled.

She’d woken the following morning still tired, only to have to break the news to Shelley that she needed her to look after Oscar while she returned to the police station for further questioning.

‘I’ll pay you, of course,’ Tabitha had said desperately, thinking she should spend while there was still cash in the bank, but Shelley had been almost offended.

‘I can’t pretend I don’t miss my job but I don’t want no money to look after the little ’un,’ she’d scoffed. ‘You’re in trouble and I can help and that’s all there is to it.’

Tabitha’s eyes had filled with tears. Shelley had always seemed so shy, nervous and uncommunicative, yet when Tabitha had really needed her, she’d shown her true worth.

‘Thank you,’ she’d said, praying that Oscar wouldn’t kick off when he saw her leave, as she wasn’t sure that she could bear it. ‘I’ll be back as soon as I can.’

It had been made clear to her that she was likely to be charged as an accomplice to the crime and, as such, could go to prison. It was just possible that the Crime Prosecution Service might decide not to pursue her case, given that she’d been under duress and was a key witness, but the police could offer no promises. They wanted to know not just about Henry Mount Financial Services but also about all Luke’s previous Manchester dealings. They were interested in Carl, too, and had promised to check out whether or not he’d been in the Tremarnock area and look into issuing a stalking and harassment warning. This gave Tabitha small comfort, but it was something.

In any case, she was happy to divulge as many of Luke’s secrets as she could; in truth, it was a relief to get them off her chest. She’d returned to Callington almost drunk with exhaustion, but with a certain strange sense of elation, too, because finally she’d come out of hiding. As frightened as she was about the future, she felt for the first time in many, many years, if ever, that she could hold her head high because she’d done the right thing at last.

She’d almost forgotten about the days of the week and months of the year; time seemed to have telescoped so that all that mattered was the here and now, getting through the next few minutes, the next half-hour, so when Shelley informed her that it was the weekend, she was quite surprised.

‘The weekend? Already? Do you need me to leave?’ she asked, while Shelley cracked some eggs into a bowl and put the saucepan on to heat. ‘I said I’d only stay two or three nights.’

Shelley was in a faded white T-shirt and crumpled pink pyjama bottoms, her mousey hair tied back with a black plastic clip in a greasy up-do. Once Tabitha might have thought her slovenly, but now she had nothing but admiration for this kind woman who, despite losing the job that she so badly needed, had taken her in without a murmur.

‘Now, what sort of question is that?’ Shelley asked, spinning round, hands on hips, and giving Tabitha a reproachful look. ‘Where do you think you’re going to go, then?’

Tabitha had no answer.

‘Don’t be daft,’ Shelley went on. ‘I know it’s a bit cramped, but you can stay as long as you like. At least the press don’t know you’re here. They’re swarming all over Tremarnock instead, poking their noses in where they’re not wanted.’

Tabitha shivered. She’d avoided newspapers and TV and could only imagine how interested reporters must be in the events unfolding. Even more reason for the inhabitants of Tremarnock to wish they’d never clapped eyes on either Luke or herself, she thought. She doubted if she’d ever dare set foot in the place again.

Charlie, who was nine, had finished his cereal and was getting bored, kicking the leg of his sister’s chair.

‘Stop it!’ hissed twelve-year-old Amber, shoving him in the ribs.

‘Can I go now?’ he whined, but his mother told him to wait for the eggs. ‘They won’t be long.’

A strong smell of hot butter wafted from the saucepan and the kettle boiled again, filling the kitchen with steam. Shelley’s husband must have put the football on TV next door because a burst of cheering erupted and Oscar appeared suddenly, alarmed by the noise, and pulled on his mother’s leg, wanting to be picked up.

It was Charlie who heard the doorbell; he must have had sharper ears than the rest of them.

‘I’ll answer!’ he cried jumping up, relieved to be released from the torture of sitting in one place.

‘That’ll be the postman, I s’pect,’ Shelley reassured Tabitha, having noticed her start. ‘It’s a new one and he seems to get here quicker than the last.’

When Liz entered through a veil of heat and steam, it took Tabitha a moment or two to register who it was before her mouth dropped open. ‘Oh!’

Liz addressed Shelley first. ‘I hope you don’t mind? I heard Tabitha was here and I thought I’d better come early to catch her.’

Shelley, who was growing accustomed to being at the epicentre of the drama, merely nodded and fetched a mug from the shelf above the sink. ‘Cuppa?’

By now, both children had given up on the idea of scrambled eggs and made a dash for the door, leaving Shelley to shrug resignedly, before lifting the spitting pan of butter off the hob. Liz pulled out a chair without being asked and sat opposite Tabitha, who instinctively shrank back, not knowing what sort of treatment she was about to receive.

‘I want to thank you,’ Liz said, fixing Tabitha with a pair of large, brown, earnest eyes. ‘You found Loveday and brought her back to us. You were very brave.’

Liz was small and slim, much slighter than Tabitha, and she was dressed in a plain blue woollen sweater and jeans, her hair tied back in a blue spotted scrunchie. She looked delicate, fragile almost, despite the swelling that was obvious now beneath the baggy top, yet there was something powerful about her too, an inner strength that seemed to illuminate her pale features. She looked like someone you could rely on.

Tabitha felt herself shaking, and held on tight to Oscar on her lap for comfort. She hadn’t expected this kindness. At most, she’d hoped that people wouldn’t think quite as badly of her as before. First Shelley, now Liz. Their generosity overwhelmed her.

‘I should have stopped him sooner,’ she said, licking her lips that had gone dry. ‘I should never have let him give Loveday that job. I didn’t want her to work for him.’ She shook her head. ‘I should have protected her.’

Shelley was still standing by the kettle, listening in rapt silence to everything that was being said. She reached mechanically for milk and tea bags, not wishing to miss a single word, and passed a mug each to Liz and Tabitha.

‘You had a lot of problems,’ Liz said gently. ‘Loveday told me.’

Tabitha glanced at Liz fearfully. She seemed genuine and compassionate, but could she be trusted? Tabitha had once trusted Carl, but these days she had no faith in anyone save Molly – and Loveday, perhaps.

Amber poked her head in again to ask if she could go out with her friends. She was wearing a lurid silver jacket and what looked suspiciously like lipstick and eye shadow.

Shelley frowned, as if she was about to object, then thought better of it. ‘Mind you’re back by dinner time, though, and I don’t want you wandering round them streets, getting up to mischief.’

‘We’re not doing nothing wrong,’ Amber whined, ‘just going to the park.’

‘And don’t you go talking to that Puddicombe lad,’ Shelley replied. ‘He’s bad news.’ But Amber had already scarpered.

The TV was still blaring in the adjoining room and Liz wrinkled her brow.

‘Shall we go out? It’ll be easier to talk.’

Tabitha nodded and Shelley darted towards the exit: ‘Hang on a mo while I get dressed. I’ll only take a second.’ She wasn’t going to miss a thing.

The three women emerged into the daylight and Tabitha breathed in and out deeply, grateful for some fresh air after the closeness of Shelley’s kitchen. Oscar had climbed willingly into his pushchair, keen for a change of scenery, too, and she strapped him in tightly before they set off down the narrow street, passing rows of terraced Victorian houses, some painted white, blue or yellow, others with the brick left bare, gardens bursting with spring daffodils and tulips.

‘Where are we going?’ Shelley asked eagerly. She was wearing a plain red sweatshirt, jeans and trainers, but Tabitha noticed that she’d dusted pale pink blusher on her cheeks and her eyes were shining. She looked younger and less careworn, almost pretty. This was probably the most fun she’d had in years.

‘I don’t know Callington,’ Liz replied. ‘Where do you suggest?’

‘Main shopping street’s this way,’ said Shelley importantly, striding on ahead, ‘and there’s a nice old church. Follow me.’

Tabitha, who’d barely seen the place in daylight, found herself thinking that this had been a bad idea. What had she to say to Liz, whom she hardly knew, and how could she begin to describe what she’d been through? She wasn’t even sure that she wanted to.

There was an awkward silence for a few moments until a fluffy ginger cat, sitting on a wall enjoying the morning sunshine, mewed at them and Oscar pointed excitedly.

‘Miaow!’ he was saying, kicking the footrest with his navy blue shoes. ‘Cat! Miaow!’

Liz stopped to stroke the animal before turning to Oscar and smiling. ‘Isn’t he beautiful? So soft and fluffy, and he’s so friendly!’ Then she carefully picked the animal up, still stroking its head, and crouched down beside the small boy so that he could take a better look.

Oscar reached out, and Liz guided his pudgy hand across the cat’s back. ‘Gently, that’s right. Don’t pull his fur. He likes that, listen! He’s purring.’

It was such a tender gesture and you could tell that Liz had children of her own. Tabitha was touched.

‘It all started when my parents – my adoptive parents – kicked me out of home,’ she said quietly. Liz glanced up and nodded encouragingly. ‘I’ll tell you everything, if you’ve got the time.’

‘As long as it takes.’

Soon they reached the main street, passing by an estate agent, a tea room, a kebab house and the post office. There were plenty of people on the pavements and coming in and out of the shops, and a few paused to stare at the three women, huddled together and walking quickly, their heads bent, seemingly oblivious to what was going on around them. Some folk may have recognised Tabitha from the newspapers or TV and nudged each other, whispering, but she and her friends scarcely noticed, so intently were they talking.

Every now and again, Liz or Shelley would cry out in dismay, make a sympathetic noise or ask Tabitha to clarify something, but mostly they let her speak without interruption. Liz and Tabitha didn’t even register the ancient church, which was such a feature of the old market town, or question where Shelley was leading them, and it was only when Oscar started to struggle that they realised they were heading out of the centre and up a steep main road.