The Beachcomber (26 page)

Aware of his confusion, yet not knowing how to deal with it, Kathy apologized. “I’m sorry, Tom. I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that. Please … just forget I ever said anything.”

“I can’t!” He fought the inner struggle and was determined. “You have a right to know.” He took another drink of his tea and, taking a deep breath, he turned to face her. With great difficulty, he began to describe what had happened. “In a way, I
am
married,” he said quietly. “Though my wife isn’t alive on this earth, she’s very much a part of my life, and probably always will be until I find out why she was taken.”

“No, please, Tom, don’t!”

Kathy had never seen anyone in such great pain as he seemed to be now. His hands were clenched and trembling and his voice almost inaudible; his face was etched with such powerful emotion, and he was clearly finding it difficult to talk.

“It’s all right,” she told him again, “you don’t have to tell me anything.” She wished she could turn back the clock to that moment before she put the question, because now she had unleashed something that made her afraid. Why couldn’t she have left things as they were? Now it was spoilt; she was putting him through all kinds of agony, and he might never forgive her.

“I
have
to tell you,” he answered softly, “I
want
to.”

When he reached out to take her hand, she held him tight, waiting for him to go on, but it seemed an age before he began to describe his family, and how happy they were. “I was a lucky man,” he said. “We had a beautiful house, no money troubles. I had a job that took me all over the country, though there were times when I would rather have stayed home with the family. I had a wife who loved me and two adorable children.” His voice broke. “They were my life!”

Pausing to remember, he went on. “It was over a year ago now. We were returning home from a visit to the seaside – Bournemouth. It was a day much like today: the sun was shining and the kids were fighting in the back, as usual …” He smiled, a painful, sorry smile that tore at Kathy’s heart. “I remember … the coastal roads were clear, and we were making good time.”

Like so many times before, he tried hard to remember every little detail of what happened. “I saw the car in my rear-view mirror … it was blue; I think it was a Hillman, or it could have been a Morris, I didn’t have time to get a good look. It got closer and closer, and I suddenly realized it was
too
close … he was on my tail … I could see he meant to hit us! Dear God … what was he doing? I yelled, but he couldn’t hear me … I couldn’t see his face … he was wearing dark glasses … his hat was pulled down low.”

He leaned back, closing his eyes, composing himself … reliving every minute of that terrible day.

Closing her hand over his, Kathy gave him strength.

He opened his eyes and glanced down at her upturned face. “There are times when it overwhelms me,” he confessed. “I can’t sleep, and I can’t think straight. Then I have to walk the floor until the rage inside me begins to settle.”

He told her everything, every now and then his voice breaking and his hand gripping hers so hard that she could feel the blood flow out. “They tried to say it must have been an accident, but it was no accident, I can tell you. He came at me with the intention of sending me over that cliff.” In his mind’s eye he could see the car bearing down on them. “Can you imagine? We were being driven over the cliff and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it! It was all too fast and furious … that maniac meant to kill us all, there’s no doubt in my mind about it!”

As he described the way it had been, it was as though he was there again, on that day, in the car, and the driver of the other car ramming them time and again. “I couldn’t turn … can you imagine, we were heading over the cliff, and I couldn’t turn the car. The kids were screaming … my wife … terrified. Oh, dear God!”

With a suddenness that startled Kathy, he sprang off the bench and hurried into the cabin. When Kathy found him he was slumped on the seat in the corner, his hands over his face. “I’m sorry.” He looked up, his tear-stained face haggard. “I thought I could talk about it without breaking down.”

“It’s all right.” Kathy had been shocked by his story. “Don’t say any more.” Sitting on the floor, she held his hands and, looking up, told him, “You don’t need to go on. I understand now why you seem so lonely at times … I do understand, Tom, and there’s no need to punish yourself.”

He shook his head. “No, Kathy. I need to tell you,” he murmured. “I
want
you, of all people, to know what happened.”

After taking a moment, he went on. “We went over the cliff. There was this awful silence. After the revving engines and the impact of bumper on bumper … the children’s cries and my wife shouting for them to lie down … it seemed eerie somehow. Then the kids started screaming again …” His voice broke.

“We seemed to hang in the air, and then I remember hitting the ground, the car bouncing … then … nothing. Later, when I woke up in hospital, they told me they were all gone … my wife, the children …
all gone!
”

Leaning forward, he put his hands over his face and tried to shut it out, but the memories were too vivid. “Whoever drove us over that cliff meant to kill us.” He was sure of it. “For some reason I may never know, he wanted us all dead.”

Shocked to her roots, Kathy asked softly, “I don’t understand … Why would
anyone
want to kill an entire family?”

“I’ve no idea. I’ve racked my brains and I don’t understand it any more than you do.”

“Did they find him?”

Tom shook his head. “It wasn’t for want of trying. The police did all they could, and so did I … as much as I was able. But neither the car nor the driver were ever found.”

“And you can’t rest until he’s hunted down, that’s it, isn’t it?” Kathy felt a sense of relief, though it was mingled with fear for his safety.

“Yes.” He was glad he’d told her. “I gave up my job, sold the flat, and moved here to West Bay, hoping to find some sort of peace,” he confessed. “But there will never be any peace, until I find out … who? And
why
?” A terrible anger filled his soul. “I want him hanged for what he did.”

Kathy felt his hatred. It was like a physical force. “You said you couldn’t see the driver?”

“Not clearly, no.” He was intrigued. “Why? What are you getting at?”

“Well, if you couldn’t see the driver … how can you be certain it was a man?”

Startled by her comment, he looked up. “My God! You’re right, it
could
have been a woman! It could have been
anyone!
” That idea had never occurred to him, but now, thanks to Kathy, it was something else to bear in mind.

“You’re going back, aren’t you?” Kathy could see it in his eyes. “You came here to heal, and now you’re going back to try and find whoever did it?”

“I have to.” His soft smile was reassuring. “But not yet. I’m not ready yet.”

“When?”

“Very soon. My mind’s beginning to clear. I can
almost
think it through without everything clouding over. But, if I’m to track the bastard down, I need a little more time.
I need to control the hatred.
” He shuddered with emotion. “Right now, the hatred is controlling
me
.”

Getting up onto her knees, Kathy looked him in the eye, her voice tender when she asked, “Then, will you be able to –” she hesitated to ask after what he had just told her, but the words needed to be spoken – “do you think you’ll ever be able to love again?”

“Oh, my Kathy …” Reaching out, he cupped her face in his strong, gentle hands, and, looking down into her eyes, he whispered the words she had wanted to hear. “There’s nothing I’d like more in this world than to make a life here, with you. But it has to be right … everything in its place.”

For no reason she could imagine, Kathy began crying – soft, wonderful tears that fell down her face and wet the palms of his hands. “I love you,” she murmured. “Don’t go.” She was so afraid for him. “There’s someone out there who wants you dead. Don’t go, Tom. Please … don’t go.”

He leaned forward, his face almost touching hers, his warm breath fanning her face. “I have to. You must know that.” Looking at her now, seeing the love and concern she felt for him, he would have given anything to stay, but he couldn’t. The time to go was almost on him.

She nodded, and now, as she began to speak again, he slid to his knees and, caressing her face, drew her closer, his arms strong about her and his mouth closing over hers; in that precious moment, the love between them blossomed.

Though it was wrong of him, he wanted to make love to her there and then, but his emotions were too stirred.

They kissed and talked, and though she wanted him with every nerve in her body, Kathy knew it wouldn’t be right. But their time would come, she told herself, and when it did, God willing, they would have their whole lives together.

As he held and caressed her, Tom yearned to take her to himself; there was a minute when his hands slid down her dress and brushed her breast, and all the manhood in him cried out for her. But then he slumped back, the images of his wife and family tormenting him. “I can’t.” He wondered if he would ever be free. “Forgive me, Kathy. It’s too soon.” His one terrible fear was that the demons of that day might never leave him.

Kathy didn’t speak. Instead she wound her arms about him, and there, on the floor of the boat, gently rocked by the rolling movements of the water, they sat and talked, and it was a tender, unforgettable thing. “We love each other,” she murmured, gently kissing his neck, his face, and then his mouth. “We can wait.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” he promised. “When it’s all over, I swear to God, I’ll make it up to you.” Wrapping his strong arms about her, he drew her to him. It felt good; with her head resting on his shoulder and the warmth of their bodies mingling, he thought there could be no more heaven than this.

For a long time they lay there, content in each other’s company, the silence broken only by the sound of water lapping against the harbor wall outside.

The gentle rolling movement lulled their senses, and, for now at least, anxiety fell away, and all was well with the world.

M
AGGIE WAS ON
her second warning. Being a cinema attendant was her third job since Kathy left and, though she loved it, she could not seem to keep out of trouble. Now, having been hauled before the manager yet again, she was defending her action. “The little sod
needed
throwing out! I told him time and again and still he wouldn’t listen. How can anybody watch the bleedin’ film with kids shouting and bawling all over the place?”

“Be quiet!” At the end of his tether, the manager observed her through narrowed eyes. “Just look at yourself!” He had made many mistakes in his time, but never as bad as when he gave this one a job. “You’re a disgrace!”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean … you’re too … too …” Shrugging his narrow shoulders, he couldn’t quite think of the right words. “You just don’t make the right impression on the customers.” Seeing her now, bristling with defiance, wild black hair tumbling around her face with its crimson lips, he despaired. “For a start you’re made up like a tart off the streets; you’re forever arguing with your workmates; and you’re always finding fault with the customers. Jesus! I’ve lost count of the number of people you’ve thrown out … often for something as trivial as getting out of their seats to go to the toilet!”

Maggie bristled. “That’s not true. If you’re talking about that man who caused a riot when he stood up in the row, he was getting ready for fisticuffs with the man behind … it weren’t
my
fault if he kept kicking him in the backside every time the film got exciting.” She let out a throaty laugh. “Besides, he were a big bloke. I’ll have you know I took my life in my hands when I threw that one out.”

“Enough!” The manager waved his hand. “All that aside, what about the times I’ve caught you in the best seats up there in the gallery, blatantly watching the film instead of tending to the people downstairs.”

Leaning back in his seat, he groaned. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t finish you here and now?”

“Because I’ve got you by the short and curlies, that’s why!” Maggie had a way with words. “If I was to tell your wife what we get up to after everybody else has gone home, she’d string you up from the highest lamp-post.”

With a nervous giggle, he called her bluff. “I know my wife, and she would never believe you.”