by Nicola May
‘I have my moments.’ The big man was laughing as Rosa pushed open the door to the café.
‘What are you doing, stealing my man? I saw you walking up the beach path arm-in-arm,’ Sara teased Rosa, and without expecting a reply carried on cleaning down a table. Her own jealousy days were long gone, thanks to Alec’s all-encompassing love.
‘I’ve actually got an announcement to make,’ Rosa chirped.
Sara stopped what she was doing. After their recent conversation, Alec was slightly concerned as to what this could be.
‘Josh and I are having a baby.’ Rosa stamped her feet up and down on the floor in excitement.
‘Oh my God!’ Sara rushed to her side and hugged her. ‘That is just the best news. Oh Rosa.’
Alec turned away and tried to suck up the tears that were forming, but eagle-eyed Rosa never missed a trick. ‘So, what exactly are you feeling here, Dr Burton?’
‘Come here, you.’ Sara went to hug him next, and cupped her lover’s bum cheeks. Brown barked his approval too.
Knowing how hard it had been for Rosa to get to this strategic point in her life, Alec smiled through his emotions. ‘Happy, Rosa. I feel really happy for you both.’
CHAPTER 28
Mary was pushing the mini-trolleys together neatly outside the Co-op when Rosa approached with a disgruntled Hot pulling on the lead.
‘What’s wrong with old misery then?’ Mary could tell he was in a grump just from his gait and the way his usually jaunty tail was hanging down.
‘He wants to go to the beach,’ Rosa explained. ‘I’ve told him we’ll go straight down there once I’ve talked to you, but like most blokes, he’s got no patience.’
Mary laughed, pulled a tiny treat from her overall pocket, leaned down, ruffled Hot’s ears and let him lick her hand. ‘Ooh, that tickles.’
‘I’m just checking if you are coming down to the fireworks or not tomorrow night?’
‘No, Rosa duck. All that cold night air and smoke are no good for my lungs.’ Mary put her hand to her chest. ‘I’m very wheezy at the moment.’
‘So, you know what my next question to you is then?’
Mary smiled. ‘Of course I will look after old Grumpy here. Merlin will just have to put up with it. He usually shoots under my bed anyway at the first hint of a bang, bless him.’
‘Aw, thank you. Titch’s mum is looking after her human and canine brood and Ritchie is working so it looks like we’ll have a bit of a girls’ night, which will be fun. We haven’t been out just the two of us for ages. In fact, I haven’t sorted a hen night yet, so I can take the chance to talk to her about that.’
‘Good for you. Any envelopes to mention yet?’
‘Yes! I had one this morning, a bright red one from Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. That did make me smile.’
‘And?’
‘Oh, I’m not opening them until the deadline. I’m putting them in the safe, tucked away.’
‘That’s not like you, to be careful and not go rushing into things.’
‘Ah, but this is so important that I want to do it properly.’
‘I think that is very wise. Any others?’
‘Yes. So, we have Pigs in Blankets, and one just in from Frosty the Snowman.’
Mary laughed heartily then began to cough and thump her chest. Eventually she managed: ‘It was such a good idea, them not revealing their real names yet. You’re doing this all on substance and not perception. You’re a clever girl, Rosa.’
‘I do my best.’ Hot nudged his snout into her ankle and barked. ‘OK, OK, hold your horses, you Hound of the Baskervilles. We are going in a minute, I promise.’
‘So, are Sara and Alec going to the fireworks?’
‘Oh, yes, they will be down there but sadly Jacob and Raff won’t this year. With the Ship Inn closed for the time being, the Lobster Pot is fully booked in the restaurant and they will need all hands on deck.’
‘I thought you might be planning to open the café up, with all those people down there?’
‘Oh, we are opening, but just for hot drinks and toilet use, as we felt it unfair to compete with the charity tent for food. Bless Nate, he’s going to run the show with hot chocolate and marshmallows out the front.’
‘That’s good then. I know how you love your fireworks, duck. Talking of which, Josh isn’t coming back for them, is he?’ Mary looked at her keenly.
‘No, because he’s coming back earlier in December now.’ She saw a visible shiver go right through Mary’s body and said, ‘What’s wrong, Mum?’
‘It’s nothing – nothing at all. That’s good news. Very good news.’
‘He came back before, and he was fine, you know,’ Rosa tried to reassure her.
Mary ignored her comment, asking instead, ‘No news on Sheila’s funeral yet, then?’
‘No, but I’m sure you’ll find out before anyone else, won’t you?’ Mary tutted as Rosa added, ‘Ritchie did mention that there is to be a post-mortem.’
‘Maybe it wasn’t an accident, eh, Rosa?’
Rosa grimaced at the way her mother always knew her better than she knew herself. Just then, the restless Hot, who’d been crossing his little legs, cocked a hind one against the trolleys and did a wee. ‘Shit, sorry, Mum.’
Mary was amused. ‘I’ll wash it down, love, don’t worry. Now, was there something else you wanted to tell me?’
Rosa put her hand to her mouth to try and hide the huge grin that had appeared.
‘Angels be! I knew you were! Oh darling, that is just the best news ever.’ Mary, never comfortable with public displays of affection, gave her pregnant daughter a brief hug.
‘I am only telling my nearest and dearest, so keep it quiet for a bit if you can, Mum.’
Mary couldn’t contain her joy. ‘Well, if Titch tells Edie Rogers you might as well give the Daily Mail online another story.’
‘I know, I know. I’m not even three months yet, but of course I had to tell you.’
Mary reached inside her overall pocket again. ‘Here. I already made this up for you; in case you feel sick at all.’ She handed Rosa a small brown bottle of liquid.
‘Another magic potion, Mama?’
Mary’s face didn’t move. ‘If you feel as nauseous as I felt with you, then you will need this, I tell you. Just a couple of drops on your tongue.’
‘Was I a good baby?’
Mary let out a big sigh. Her alcoholism had overridden every rational thought during motherhood; hence Rosa being taken into care. ‘I think so, duck.’ Tears pricked her eyes at her past failings. ‘You were a very well-loved baby, I do know that. I am so proud of you for not drinking, Rosa.’
‘We do what we do, as you say.’ Rosa managed a smile. ‘And I’m sorry, but I think now I’m going through pregnancy and motherhood myself, I kind of want to know everything.’ She paused, then blurted out, ‘What was my dad like? You’ve never even told me his name.’
But before Mary could answer, Mr Duncan, the manager of the Cockleberry Co-op, appeared in the doorway. ‘Mary, there’s a queue four deep at your till.’ He curtly acknowledged Rosa with a nod and a raised eyebrow. She just hoped he didn’t notice Hot’s spreading trickle of wee.
‘I’d better go.’ Mary kissed Rosa on the cheek. ‘Tell young Josh how delighted I am, will you?’ As Mary started walking to the door, she turned around and said quietly, ‘His name was Kit.’
A chill November wind whipped around Rosa’s face as she made her way back down the narrow streets of Cockleberry Bay with Hot trotting at her side, his ears blown aloft in the gusts. She was annoyed with herself for not putting a hat on before she’d left the shop that morning. Also, and more importantly, hearing those words from her mother’s lips earlier had evoked many emotions; one of them was, strangely, fear – but the overriding one was of guilt.
Guilt because several months ago now, she had sneaked into her mother’s bedroom and gone through her personal things to find the one bit of paper that Mary had always told
her she didn’t have: Rosa’s birth certificate. Guilt that she had traced the man recorded on it as her father to an address in London and had sent him a letter. Rosa had undertaken this mission on her own: she hadn’t even confided in Josh. Deep inside, she knew that if she had asked anyone’s advice about trying to find her father, they would have told her to let sleeping dogs lie. But it was her life.
With everything that had been going on, Rosa had put the matter to the back of her mind. And so far, she had had no reply to her letter. But now that she had a little person growing inside her, she felt that she had to know about that side of her family. It was important to her and her unborn child. Yes, the heritage of Ned and Queenie made her who she was; however, despite her apparently being the result of a drunken one-night stand, she still had half this man Kit’s DNA.
The feelings of guilt she could understand, but what was the fear about? Maybe it was connected to her having discovered that her birth mother wasn’t the magnificent person she’d dreamed up in her mind. She’d had to face facts: that we all have flaws, that none of us are perfect. Maybe she was afraid lest her dad let her down. The fact that she hadn’t heard back from him confirmed that he didn’t care that she was the product of his loins. Another rejection in life would be too much to bear, Rosa thought. She had come so far with her mental health. Maybe she should have just let everything lie; been contented with at last knowing her mother’s bloodline. Appreciated all she had now and not be constantly looking for answers that might not even be there…
She popped into the café, waved and just mouthed hi to Sara and Nate, who were busy behind the counter. It was great that their shift patterns were working so well, and with Nate as a safe pair of hands it gave Rosa and Sara the chance to take time off when they needed it.
The tide was coming in, but a wide expanse of sandy beach remained. While Hot ran off the lead, sniffing at tiny crabs and leaping up at seaweed moving in the wind, Rosa checked to see if there was any sign of life at the Ship, and whether Luke’s plumbing van was in the car park – but nothing. And as much as she wanted to see if he was OK, after the other night, she felt it would be too awkward to talk to him. She just hoped that he was with his brother and family, and that they were working through stuff together.
Feeling a sudden twinge of nausea, she sat down on the wall outside the pub and reached for the little bottle that Mary had just given her. It smelled strongly of ginger. Putting a few drops on her tongue, she gagged slightly but then immediately began to feel better. Mary was indeed a magician of sorts.
Hot came tearing up to Rosa, licked her hand then went scuttling off again to chase a chocolate wrapper that was dancing along the sand in the breeze. Sitting outside the empty pub brought back memories of the awful night of Sheila’s so-called accident. With the woman’s anguished face imprinted on her mind, Rosa closed her eyes and sent some virtual love to Luke. Mary had taught her that the blue angel light ray represents power, protection, faith, courage and strength – and that if you felt somebody needed this then you were to imagine surrounding them with blue light. She remembered their local spiritualist church in the back streets of the Mile End Road having a blue light over the shabby front door.
Thinking about Luke suddenly made her remember the envelope falling out of his back pocket when he had run out on her the other night. She had been in such a hurry to get her sick-laden jeans off and have a shower that she had just put it in a drawer in the kitchen and completely forgotten about it. He hadn’t asked for it, but what if it was important and he didn’t feel he could contact her after baring his grieving soul to her the other night? She must dig it out as soon as she got home.
She had assumed that the funeral would be held here in the Bay, so if not before, at least she would see him then to give it to him. It was weird. Before she had been with Sheila in her final hour of need, she wouldn’t even have considered going to her funeral, as there was certainly no love lost between them, but now she felt that she wanted to pay her final respects. And to be there for Luke, even if it was just in the capacity of a friend or confidante.
Rosa stood up and pulled her coat collar up tightly to her ears. She whistled for Hot, who, as usual, ignored her first attempt to get him to come. The wind was now rushing around the Bay as the tide pulsed in stronger, causing the swelling murky waves to crash regularly on to the cold wet sand, and the salty spray to sting her eyes. The light was going. Aside from one other dog-walker right down the South Cliffs end, the beach was empty. The glowing lights of the café were a comforting sight, she thought, amid the gloom of the day.
Apart from fireworks night, Rosa wasn’t a fan of November. In fact, if she had to depict it as a colour, it would have to be grey. She had had great delight going through all her suggested colours for months with Titch, one quiet rainy day in the shop. With the promise of Christmas and good cheer, thankfully December was a much more appealing orangey-red, then back to a blue January when the snow and frost came in. And then a bright yellow for April as that was when her birthday fell. June was a light mauve and July a summery pink.
With Hot safely leashed, she was just about to leave the beach when she spotted a police car pulling into the car park of the Ship. She recognised DC Clarke in the driving seat; he it was who had tried and failed to find out who had set fire to a bin in the Corner Shop downstairs kitchen earlier in the year. The bearded policeman waved his hand slowly in acknowledgment and then stopped the car, opening the window as he did so.
‘Rosa? Just the girl. Will you be free in, say, an hour or so? I need to have a good look around here again, then ask you some questions. I can come to the shop if that’s easier for you than coming down to the station.’
‘Station? Questions?’ Rosa was bemused. ‘What for? Why?’
‘Well, it appears from the post-mortem that the force with which Sheila Hannafore hit the bottom of the cellar steps, and the serious injuries she sustained, suggest this may not have been an accident. It appears, in fact, that she could have been deliberately pushed.’
CHAPTER 29
Hot was so exhausted after his walk that within ten seconds of eating his dinner, he was flat-out under his favourite smelly blanket in the corner of the lounge. Rosa was glad it was a winter Sunday; that meant the shop could remain closed until tomorrow. In the kitchen, she made a cup of tea and checked her watch. At least she had a bit of time before DC Clarke arrived. The trouble with the policeman, Rosa decided, was that there were so few crimes committed in Cockleberry Bay and the surrounding areas that she reckoned he made things up simply so he could pretend he was Hercule Poirot for a day.
Opening the drawer to get a teaspoon, she caught sight of the crumpled envelope that had fallen out of Lucas’s pocket. The words My Lucas were scribbled in black biro on the front, and it had been opened. With curiosity overcoming her scruples, Rosa pulled a typed letter out of the envelope.
Snuggling under the mauve velvet throw on the comfy cream sofa, she took a big slurp from her I love Dachshunds mug, put it on the side table and began to read.
My dear darling second boy,
You will be reading this because I’m not here any more. You will also have found my will, thank goodness. Simple. Just an equal split between you and Tom, and you two can decide what happens to the pub. Me and your dad spent many happy years here, but if you’d rather the cash than the business, I totally understand. Mrs Treborick from the wool shop has taken the cats already. I know how your dear nephew is allergic and your life is way too busy for pets.
I hope that my death was a peaceful one and you didn’t have to watch by my bedside for weeks on end. The diagnosis of my cancer was terminal when I got my first results. People may say that I was selfish not to seek treatment, but my motive was the opposite: to spare you boys from seeing me suffer. My mum, your gran, as you know, died of cancer too. It was the single most horrific thing that I have ever gone through. The truth is, I never got over it. I was always so sad that you two amazing sons of
mine never got to meet her as she was taken so young. She wasted away in front of us like a little bird. Her heart and soul were as big as any lion’s, but the wretched disease took hold of her body and eventually killed her.
We loved you, me and your dad, we loved both of you very much. I’d never admit it openly, but I missed him so much after he died. Silly old sod. Despite our bickering there was a love of sorts there. My yin to his yang, or as he used to say, my rottweiler to his puppy dog. Wore his heart on his sleeve, your dad did. I think that’s where you get your soft side from, my boy. My heart was hard and I kept it inside, not on show. Maybe the death of your gran caused that, or maybe I was just scared to show my feelings in case they weren’t reciprocated.
Well, I want to show those feelings now though, lad. To say that my love for you is infinite. To urge you to please live on with happiness. There’s half of me in you, you know, so keep flying the flag for the Hannafores. Maybe you’ll have some little ones of your own, one day. That will be lovely. You tell them that their gran will always be looking down and cheering them on from the side-lines too.
‘Wow,’ Rosa said aloud, with tears streaming down her face. This was just so personal to Luke, and so not the Sheila Hannafore she had created in her mind, but she felt compelled to read on, however heartbreaking the contents.
I may have seen you since writing this letter, I may not. If I haven’t then do not feel guilty. There is an expression ‘Listen to the woman when she looks at you, not when she talks to you.’ I saw the way Rosa Larkin or Smith or whatever you want to call her used to look at you. I genuinely believe that she loved you as much as you loved her. But life is already written, son, it really is. Affairs of the heart rarely run smooth. I always knew she would break your heart.
‘Hardly fair,’ Rosa commented and carried on reading.
Rosa is not a bad person. Rosa is a survivor. There is part of the girl that I admire, but don’t fall for her charms any more. She’s had a troubled upbringing and she will forever struggle with temptation, not because she wants to, but because it’s in her. Help her. Set her free to enjoy happiness with that husband of hers, although I think that you may have selflessly done this already. If you can bear it, she will make a far better friend than foe.
