The Beachcomber (32 page)

The boy was instantly concerned. “I’ve got an apple in the tree-house.”

“How long’s it been there?”

“Only a week.” Already his tears were gone, but not the ache in his heart. That was hidden like before.

“Will it still be crispy, d’yer think?”

“It might be.”

“Look, I’ll tell you what,” the old man suggested. “
I’m
partial to a crispy apple. How about yer fetch it down and we’ll share it?”

“All right!” He liked that idea. “Why don’t we eat it in the tree-house?”

Jasper gave a cry of horror. “What? Yer mean yer want
me
to climb up there?”

The boy tugged at his sleeve. “Come on! It’ll be fun. You can be captain if you like.”

“Gerraway with yer!” The old man laughed out loud. “If I were
half
the size, I’d never fit in that little house. Not in a month o’ Sundays, I wouldn’t.” He made a suggestion. “How about if yer show me the rest of the garden?”

Content in the old man’s company, Robbie showed him some old birds’ nests, now deserted, that he had discovered. “I like this garden,” the boy confided as they sat together on the old rustic bench, “but I want to come home. I miss the sea.” A sadness touched his voice. “Mummy says we might go back one day, but not yet.”

The old man’s heart was sore. “I’m sure yer mammy means to take yer back,” he promised. “Else why would she keep the cottage, eh?”

The boy looked up, his eyes moist with tears but a smile on his face. “Yes, that’s right. Mummy told me we still have the cottage. Oh, Jasper, will she take me back? Will she?”

“That’s summat for your mammy to decide, son.” He had more sense than to raise the boy’s hopes too high.

Suddenly his heart lurched when the boy asked in all innocence, “Then, will
Daddy
come back?”

Liz’s call that the food was ready spared him from giving an answer. He clambered off the seat. “We’d best go,” he said, feigning excitement. “We don’t want to miss that lovely lemon meringue pie, do we, eh?” He was thankful when the boy readily agreed, seeming to forget for the minute that Jasper had not answered his question.

Liz had decided to set the table in the garden. “I thought you’d rather be outside,” she said. She knew Jasper from old.

“I don’t mind admitting that I’d rather be outside than in,” he confessed. “I expect it comes of being an old sailor.”

The next few hours were some of the best in the old man’s life.

Liz had prepared a wonderful meal, all set out on a pink tablecloth. There were jugs of cold drinks, plates of crusty bread, and a delicious salad of ham, laid inside large lettuce leaves and surrounded by sliced tomatoes, thin rounds of apple and cucumber.

“By, lass! This is grand.” Tucking in, the old man enjoyed every mouth-watering morsel, and when later the lemon meringue pie arrived, it went down a treat. “Is that one o’ yer specialities?” he asked, wiping the last crumb from his beard; she, proud of her cooking, promptly gave him another large helping.

After the meal was cleared away, they went for a walk in the park. “Me and Robbie stroll through here often,” Liz explained. “The park belongs to the Duke of Bedford, but you’re allowed to go through, as long as you don’t stray too far from the path.”

The park was huge: a vast, impressive expanse of lake and shrubberies, overhung with huge, ancient rhododendrons that reached into the skies and filled the world with color. On either side the parkland stretched away for miles, dotted here and there with herds of grazing deer, and in the far distance another shimmering lake danced in the evening sunlight.

“This place can’t be all that different from heaven,” Jasper declared with awe. “I ain’t never seen anything so lovely.” Unless it was a boat in full sail across the ocean, he thought fondly.

“LOOK AT THAT!” Pointing to the large stag coming toward them, the boy was wide-eyed with wonder. “If we keep ever so still, it might come near, so we can touch it!”

The stag was magnificent: broad of chest, with large dark eyes and thick, strong antlers that could maim or kill in a fight. He kept his distance, wary, menacing. Then, while the three of them looked on in admiration, he turned gracefully, and ambled back to his herd. “Well, I never!” The old man was entranced.

On leaving the park, Robbie had a suggestion. “Why don’t we go to the pub for a drink?”

Jasper laughed, but Liz explained. “There’s a pretty garden behind the Bull Inn. Sometimes me and Robbie go in for a leisurely drink before going home. If you’re thirsty, we could call in now?”

With a thirst on him like a sponge in the desert, Jasper didn’t need asking twice. “You’ve said the magic words,” he chuckled. “Lead on.”

Woburn being a very old village, there were many little nooks and crannies, and old stone arches through which, once upon a time, carriages would make their way to the stables at the back. Now, though, it was people who sat beneath the arches, and the cobbled stableyards were pretty gardens, with tables and chairs and pinafored waitresses to fetch and carry for the thirsty visitors.

“Two lemonades and a pint of beer, please.” Liz gave the order, and when it arrived they sat back and enjoyed the moment, chatting and laughing and simply enjoying each other’s company.

Inevitably, and much to the old man’s concern, Liz and her son had many questions. The boy was mainly interested in the harbor and the boats and what Jasper himself had been up to, while Liz asked about the cottage, and its tenant.

“He’s called Tom,” Jasper imparted with a knowing smile. “A nice fella. Keeps himself to himself mostly, but we’ve become good friends.” He laughed. “I even persuaded him into buying a sailing boat – smart little thing, it is – got many years o’ work in her yet, I shouldn’t wonder.”

“D’you think he’ll let
me
go on it?” Robbie was so excited he could hardly sit still.

“We’ll have to see, won’t we, eh?”

Liz was curious. “Is he married?”

The old man shook his head. “He’s come to West Bay, like so many of us, to escape whatever it is that haunts him.” Beyond that he couldn’t say. “But I know you’d like him. He’s a fine, good man.”

“And there’s no problem with the cottage or anything?”

“Not that I can think of, no. I look after the maintenance, as always. He pays the rent and the money goes straight into the bank. The cottage is kept nice, just as you like it.”

“So, everything is the same as when we left, is that what you’re saying?”

The old man swallowed hard. Though she had worded her question carefully for the boy’s sake, he had seen the beseeching look in her eyes. He knew what she was asking, and his old heart lurched.

Again, for the sake of the boy, and for Liz herself, he worded his answer equally carefully. “It’s more or less the same, lass.”

She gave him a curious glance, and for a minute he was afraid she had more probing questions. But the moment passed when the waitress arrived to ask if there was anything else they would like.

Liz shook her head and thanked her.

The old man insisted on paying the bill, and they were soon making their way back to the house. “It’s been a lovely day,” Jasper told her. “I can understand why yer chose to settle in this beautiful place.”

Opening the door, Liz let them in. “We’re not ‘settled,’ as you call it. We’re much like yourself, Jasper: in transit, always looking for the next port of call.”

“I understand.” He looked into her sorry face and read her thoughts. Knowing the time had come for her to learn the truth, he took her aside. “Later, when the boy’s in bed, we’ll need to talk, lass.” There was no more hedging, no more wishing he didn’t have to tell her, because now there was no option. In fact, there never had been.

It was nine o’clock when the boy finally tumbled into bed. Weary and worn out by the day’s events, he threw his arms around the old man’s neck. “I love you, Jasper,” he said, and Jasper was deeply moved. “I love you too, lad.”

Even before he got to the door, the boy was soundly sleeping. “Good night, son.” Quietly closing the door, he went down the stairs and into the kitchen. Liz was waiting at the table, with two mugs of cocoa and a look on her face that betrayed her anxiety. “Come and sit down.” Gesturing to the chair opposite, she reminded him, “Like you say … we need to talk.”

“Aye, lass.” Seating himself, he sighed heavily, his old heart pained by what he must tell her.

Sensing his dilemma, she anticipated his news. “It’s Robert, isn’t it?”

“Yes, lass. It’s Robert.” He had to swallow the hard lump in his throat or it would have choked him.

Her eyes lit up. “Oh, Jasper! Is he back?”

Again, he had to swallow hard. “No, lass. He’s not back. But there is summat yer should know.”

A look of apprehension crossed her kindly features. “What is it, Jasper? Have you heard from him, is that it?”

He shook his head. He had to get it over with, however painful it might be. “I’m sorry, lass, but I’m afraid Robert is dead.”

Liz blanched, and tears filled her eyes. “How do you know?” she asked shakily.

The old man took a deep breath before going on. “A young lady turned up, and what she told me is what I’ve come to tell you now.”

“
What
young lady? Who is she?”

“Her name’s Kathy.” He paused a moment, not wanting to shock her further, but seeing no other way. “
She’s Robert’s daughter
.”

Pressing her hand to her mouth, Liz stared at him for a minute, her eyes wide with astonishment. “I never knew he had a daughter.” She looked him in the eye. “He never talked to me about his life outside of West Bay and I never asked. I was always afraid that, if I pushed him too far, he’d leave and I would never see him again.” Her regrets were many, but meeting Robert and sharing part of his life was not one of them. “Please tell me. What happened to Robert?” Though filled with a sense of dread, she urged in a small voice, “It’s all right, Jasper. Say what you’ve come to say.”

Reaching out to cover her hand with his own, the old man related in the gentlest manner he could what Kathy had told him: about how her father had passed on, and how Barden House belonged to her. He explained how she had come there to see where she imagined her father had spent some of the happiest times of his life. And, oh, how she had loved him, and how desperately she missed him still.

And as he talked, Liz quietly wept, looking up now and then with scarred eyes and an aching heart, urging him on.

He described what a delightful young woman Robert’s daughter was, and how he had told her about Liz and her father, and how wonderfully happy they had been. Jasper told Liz that he had explained to Kathy that, when Robert didn’t come back, Liz had begun to believe he didn’t care for her or his son anymore, and it was a burden she could no longer carry. So she had moved away.

When finally the old man was silent, he felt her hand in his, holding on as if she would drown if he were to let go. His heart went out to her. “I’m sorry, lass,” he murmured. “I’d have given anything not to be the bearer of such terrible news.”

Through eyes swimming with tears she looked up. “I didn’t know,” she whispered. “I thought he didn’t want us anymore.” Her voice broke. “I should have known better! Oh, Jasper,
I should have known better!
”

When at last her composure broke and she dropped her head to her hands, sobbing as if her heart would break, the old man went to her. Folding his arms around her, he let her cry, much as he had let Kathy cry that day when she talked of her father. And, when the crying was done, he made them each a cup of tea and they sat together, talking about Robert, and how his son would take the news. “It’ll be a terrible blow to the lad.”

Liz promised that Robbie would cope. “He’s like his father. He has a way of dealing with things,” she said. “And what about you, Jasper? This can’t have been easy … having to bring me such news.”

“You had to know,” he answered. “And who better to tell you than me?”

She gave a tiny smile. “You know, Jasper, in a peculiar, roundabout way it’s a blessing. You see, I know now that he
did
love us, more than ever.” She bowed her head. “I only wish he’d told me, so I could have looked after him.”

Jasper chided her for punishing herself like that. “It was his wish that you should not see him the way he was. I can imagine he didn’t want to put you through all that pain.”

She nodded. “Yes, I can see how he would do something like that,” she agreed. “All the same, I wish I could have been there to comfort him.”

They talked a while longer, and when the mantelpiece clock struck midnight, they went their separate ways. “Goodnight, Jasper, and thank you.” At the top of the landing she gave him a hug. “It’s Robbie we have to think about now.”

Weary of heart but glad it was over, the old man threw off his clothes and, putting on his striped pajamas, climbed into bed. Within minutes he was sound asleep, though his dreams were disturbing.

He couldn’t have been asleep for more than an hour or two when he was woken by a strange sound which at first he couldn’t quite make out.

Then he realized. The sounds were coming from an adjoining bedroom. He recognized the muffled “thump thump” of pacing feet, and the quiet, heart-wrenching sobs. “Oh, dearie me!” He knew it was Liz, and he blamed himself. “What have I done?”