At Home by the Sea

by Pam Weaver

  ‘Did you enjoy your trip to the theatre?’ he asked Izzie one moment when they met in the corridor. She was on her way into the kitchen with a tray of dirty crockery and he was just about to go into the café to greet his customers again.

  ‘It wasn’t actually a theatre,’ she explained, her heart thumping wildly at the closeness of him, ‘but they were very good.’

  ‘I suppose you will be giving in your notice,’ he ventured. She must have looked shocked because he added, ‘now that you are a celebrity journalist.’

  ‘I wasn’t planning to,’ she admitted. ‘Would you prefer it? I don’t want to cause any disruption.’

  ‘No, no, no!’ he cried. ‘You can stay as long as you like, Isobelle. We like to have you in the Café Bellissimo.’

  Mr Benito squeezed by them on his way to take a large order for a box of cakes into the shop. They were for the Mayor’s tea party for some German exchange students visiting the town.

  Izzie smiled shyly. ‘Well, I’d better get these into the kitchen.’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ Mr Semadini said, flustered. ‘Don’t let me hold you up.’

  *

  ‘You should have told her,’ said Benito.

  ‘Told who what?’ Giacomo feigned surprise as his cousin came up behind him in the office. It was Sunday morning and they were all preparing to go to Mass.

  ‘You know exactly what I’m talking about,’ said his cousin. ‘When you and Izzie were talking in the corridor yesterday, I saw the way you looked at her. You should have told the girl how you feel about her. It was a golden opportunity.’

  ‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,’ said Giacomo, looking away quickly.

  ‘You love her,’ said his cousin. ‘I’ve seen the way you look at her.’

  ‘Rubbish.’ Giacomo took his rosary beads from his desk and put them into his jacket pocket as he glanced up at the clock. ‘Hurry up or we’ll be late.’

  ‘If you can’t be honest with me,’ said his cousin, ‘be honest with yourself.’

  Giacomo couldn’t deny his feelings for Izzie but he wasn’t comfortable with them for several very valid reasons. For a start, being attracted to another woman still felt like he was being disloyal to Maria. It might be coming up for six years since that drunken fool had mounted the pavement and smashed into her and their baby son, but he couldn’t forget them. There were times when it seemed like only yesterday. Another reason why he struggled to tell Izzie how he felt was that she was on the brink of forging a new career out of her writing. And then there was Roger. He’d had no idea she was seeing someone. Perhaps they were serious. Roger certainly looked as if he liked and admired her. Giacomo had seen it in his eyes.

  Benito positioned himself in front of him and grasped his upper arms. ‘Listen to me, caro cugino,’ he said gravely. ‘Maria and Gianni are gone. Maria wouldn’t have wanted you to spend the rest of your life on your own. She would have wanted you to be happy. Izzie is a lovely girl. Tell her.’

  ‘How can I?’ Giacomo said helplessly. ‘She is young. I am twenty-nine years old next birthday. She is only eighteen. In her eyes, I am an old man.’

  Benito waved his hand in frustration. ‘Non esagerare,’ he said. ‘The English have a saying, “Faint heart never won fair lady.” She likes you. Tell her.’

  Giacomo shook his head sadly. ‘If I tell her she may leave.’

  ‘If you don’t,’ said Benito, giving him a cuff on his arm, ‘she will probably leave anyway. Take the opportunity to tell her on the outing.’

  Giacomo turned away. ‘I couldn’t bear it if she wasn’t here,’ he said brokenly. ‘This way I keep her close.’

  Benito frowned. ‘But not close enough. Tell her.’

  *

  Raymond Perryman sat with Paul and John in his aunt’s kitchen. He handed round some cigarettes, this time the more expensive Player’s Navy Cut they’d bought from the proceeds of the robbery, and struck a match. Brenda Sayers had gone to church. Not the one just around the corner between Elm Grove and Ripley Road but to the Ebenezer Baptist church in Portland Road so he knew she would be gone for a while.

  Having helped themselves to tea and some of her cake from the tin, the three of them were reviewing their haul from the robbery. They still had the pearl earrings, the snuff box and the gold bracelet but they had sold the watches, no questions asked, one in Lancing and the other in Littlehampton. And they’d already spent the money.

  ‘Here,’ Ray said, fishing into his pocket, ‘you have the earrings and Paul can have the bracelet. If you can sell them, keep the money or give them to your mum if you want to. It’s up to you.’

  John and Paul were delighted.

  ‘We need to do somewhere else,’ said Ray. ‘Somewhere with plenty of cash.’

  ‘What I don’t understand,’ said John, prodding the Worthing Herald and the Worthing Gazette on the table, ‘is why the robbery was never in the papers.’

  ‘Maybe it’ll be in next week,’ said Paul. ‘The whole thing is full of that girl from the café this week.’

  Ray pulled the article towards him. ‘Not bad looking,’ he said, making a fist and thrusting it into the air. ‘I wouldn’t mind giving her one.’ He laughed coarsely.

  ‘She’s my girlfriend’s sister,’ said John. ‘From what Linda says, I reckon they’re raking it in down there.’

  ‘What that Italian place?’ said Paul.

  John nodded. ‘It’s always packed out.’

  ‘I hate Italians,’ said Ray. ‘My old man had a mate who was killed in Italy during the war.’

  ‘Time they was taught a lesson, then,’ said Paul, his excitement mounting.

  ‘What, do the café instead of a bank?’ said John.

  ‘Why not?’ said Paul.

  ‘It’d be difficult with people around,’ John said nervously.

  ‘We don’t do it when the shop is open you numpty,’ said Ray, giving John a smack on the side of his head. ‘We wait until after dark.’

  John rubbed his sore ear. ‘There’s people living upstairs,’ he cautioned.

  ‘And we’ve got a gun,’ said Ray, leaning towards him.

  ‘Your money or your life!’ cried Paul.

  They fell silent, all of them trying to take in the gravity of what they had just said.

  ‘We shall need a good car,’ said Ray, looking at Paul, ‘to make a clean getaway.’

  ‘Hang on a mo,’ cried Paul, putting his hands up. ‘If I nick a car from work, they’ll know it was me.’

  ‘You won’t have to,’ said Ray. ‘Just leave a door open and leave the rest to me.’

  The boys went silent again, each lost in his own thoughts.

  ‘Are we going to do it then?’ John said, stubbing out his cigarette.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Ray. ‘Like you say, there’ll be plenty of dosh floating round. It’ll be a cinch.’

  They heard the sound of the key in the front door. Ray sat up sharply and waved his hands frantically in the air to get rid of the cigarette smoke. Paul flung open the back door and John sat bolt upright, pushing the overflowing ash tray into the sink. All three sat back down and waited, doing their best to look innocent as Brenda Sayers came into the kitchen.

  ‘Hello Auntie,’ Ray called cheerfully. ‘You’re back a bit earlier than I expected. I hope you don’t mind my friends popping in.’

  ‘No, no, of course not,’ said Brenda, slightly flustered. She frowned and sniffed the air. ‘Have you been smoking in here?’

  ‘Sorry Mrs Sayers,’ said Paul. ‘It was me. Filthy habit. I ought to give it up.’

  ‘I did open the back door, Auntie,’ Ray said innocently.

  Brenda frowned but said no more. John turned his head, struggling not to laugh out loud.

  ‘How was your service?’ Ray asked. His voice had become high pitched and squeaky.

  ‘Very good,’ said Brenda. She looked around her kitchen. ‘Well, I think I’ll go and have a little sit down.’

  Ray rose to his feet. ‘G
ood idea, Auntie. Do you want to read the paper? I’ll make you a cup of tea if you like.’

  ‘Oh would you, Raymond?’ she said, turning to go. ‘You are a good boy. But I won’t read the paper today. It’s the Sabbath. Leave it there for tomorrow.’

  But as she started to leave the room, her attention was caught by the picture on the front page. ‘Oh!’ Her face paled and she swayed slightly.

  Ray looked surprised. ‘What is it, Auntie?’

  Brenda picked up the paper and opened it out with a trembling hand. ‘That’s Doris Baxter’s girl, isn’t it?’

  Ray frowned. ‘Who’s Doris Baxter?’

  ‘Her husband, that girl’s father, was responsible for my poor Gary,’ said Brenda. Her voice sounded hard and bitter. The three boys looked at the press photograph with renewed interest as she contemptuously threw the paper back onto the table and walked from the room.

  ‘What was all that about?’ John whispered.

  Ray jerked his head towards the photograph of him and Gary on the dresser. ‘My cousin,’ he said, lowering his voice and looking down at his hands. ‘When we were kids, we went to a party. She goes on and on about it but I can hardly remember. I do know we stuffed ourselves silly and it made us ill. And I remember waking up in the middle of the night with a terrible stomach ache and being taken to hospital. My mum came to see me but when I got better, they told me Gary had died.’

  ‘Blimey,’ said Paul. ‘But what’s it got to do with her dad?’ He was staring at Izzie’s picture in the paper.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ said Ray. ‘They don’t talk about it much. Not even Auntie. I think he was some kind of wide boy. He must have sold them some black market stuff I suppose.’

  ‘What happened to him?’

  Ray shrugged. ‘He got put in the clink.’ He stood up and poured water into the kettle. ‘I’d better get the old lady her tea.’

  ‘Oh he is a good boy,’ said John. grinning at Paul. He didn’t even notice the tea caddy coming until it hit him on the back of his head.

  Thirty

  On the day of the staff outing there was a change in the weather. The week before had been overcast and getting cooler but the sun came out and the wind dropped. Izzie was excited as she packed her sandwiches and a flask. Everybody was talking about it. According to the notice on the door, the Café Bellissimo would be closed and everybody from the Brighton café would be included. Izzie was wearing a summer dress and she had a bathing costume and a towel in her bag as well as her cardigan. It was well known that the wind off the sea at Littlehampton could be very cold so she wasn’t going to take any chances.

  The coach was already waiting outside the Café Bellissimo when Izzie turned the corner, and was already half full with the staff from the Brighton café. They’d taken the best seats but Izzie and her fellow waitresses didn’t care. Everyone was determined to have a good time no matter what.

  Mr Semadini, Mr Benito and Ken were allocated the seats nearest the driver and a block of four seats had been labelled ‘reserved’. A moment later Mr Umberto pulled up in a taxi with his family. Izzie had never seen them before. His wife, who spoke little English, was plump with dark hair and had a rather loud voice. Three children aged between seven and two piled on the coach behind her, leaving Mr Umberto to put a mountain of baggage into the boot. The moment the older children sat down, Mrs Umberto pulled the little one onto her lap. Izzie couldn’t help noticing that the middle child had a calliper on her leg. Her heart went out to the little girl. She didn’t know why she was in the leg iron but chances were that she’d suffered from polio, a dreadful disease which usually started as a sore throat or maybe a headache. Of the victims who made a recovery, many were left with useless limbs or damaged internal organs. It had blighted so many children’s lives. As soon as Helen arrived, pink-faced and out of breath from running, they were off. The coach buzzed with excited chatter and already Izzie and her friends were having a laugh on the back seat.

  ‘There’s a funfair just off the beach,’ said Carol. ‘Anyone fancy going?’

  ‘I’m up for it,’ said Helen.

  ‘I want a boat ride,’ said Molly, one of the newer waitresses.

  ‘I’d enjoy that,’ said Izzie.

  As they made their plans for the day, Mr Semadini came down the aisle of the coach.

  ‘Just to let you know,’ he was telling everybody, ‘you can do whatever you want but at five-thirty I want you back by the brick shelters because I have arranged for a fish and chip supper. That will give you time to eat before we go to Dick Chipperfield’s circus on the big green.’

  There was a rumble of excited chatter and everyone was so busy talking they didn’t notice Mr Semadini giving Izzie a wink before he went back to his seat near the front.

  ‘Can you believe it?’ Carol asked nobody in particular. ‘How many other employers give their waitresses an outing like this?’

  Traffic was light at this time of the morning and it didn’t take long to get there. The coach pulled up near the rows of beach huts on Littlehampton seafront and everybody got off. They found a spot on the sands fairly near the public toilets and began to make it their own. Before long, Mrs Umberto and the men had deck chairs, and the children were already running across the sands to the sea. The little girl with the calliper seemed reluctant to venture very far until Izzie offered her a hand. Her name was Liliana and she and Izzie became instant friends as they walked to the water’s edge and paddled.

  When she wasn’t helping Liliana with her sand castle, Izzie and her friends spent the morning paddling, swimming and sunbathing. For Izzie, it was wonderful not to have to think about meals and housework for a change.

  ‘Oh this is so relaxing.’ Helen sighed and closed her eyes as she lay on her towel next to Izzie. ‘Don’t you find it relaxing, Izzie?’

  ‘Umm,’ said Izzie. If she was being truthful, she couldn’t relax that well with Mr Semadini sitting so close. He hadn’t spoken to her beyond being polite, but she had to force herself not to stare at him. It was funny how you can be so aware of someone and yet not communicate.

  At noon, they re-arranged themselves on deck chairs and blankets for lunch. Before long the air around the circle was pungent with the smell of egg sandwiches and flasks of tea. They’d never tasted so good as they did out in the open air, even if they were a little sandy.

  Mr and Mrs Umberto were staying with the children on the beach so Izzie and her friends packed their things behind their deck chairs and set off for the entertainments.

  Izzie and Carol queued for a boat ride on the Gee Whiz. It was only a small wooden boat with a motor on the back but the passengers in the back seat got very wet from the spray. Some much younger lads were keen to be at the back so the girls opted to sit next to the driver. By the time they stepped ashore, Carol had found out that his name was Des and she had arranged to meet him to go to the pictures the following Saturday.

  They crossed the road to join the others in Smart’s Amusements Park. ‘Come on,’ cried Helen when she saw them. ‘We’re going on the carousel.’

  The funfair was loud and the rides were expensive. The crowds wandered around in a haphazard way and spilled out onto the green. Izzie almost turned back when she saw it was a shilling a go, but Carol urged her on.

  ‘You’re only young once,’ she cried.

  Izzie gazed up at the fantastic ride. It was so beautiful and it had a kind of magic all of its own. Its solid wooden horses, three in a staggered row, resplendent in their bright gaudy colours, rose and fell gracefully with every turn of the machine. In the centre, the organ was belching out a marching tune, and over the great pipes, a hundred little mirrors reflected the lights on the canopy in a swirl of silver stars.

  The ride slowed to a stop and almost before the riders could get down, the next swathe of customers jostled and pushed to get the best seats. Izzie, overwhelmed by the mass of people, hesitated until she felt a strong arm pull her up the steps and steer her towards a golden horse i
n the centre. She had just enough time to stand on the foot rest and swing her leg over before it began to slowly rise. As she settled into her seat, she turned to thank her helper and found herself looking down on Mr Semadini, who was sitting on a green dragon beside her. When the barker came round for his money, Mr Semadini paid for them both.

  Izzie tried to protest but he was firm. ‘My treat,’ he said, waving his hand.

  Izzie smiled. Her mother had used the same expression the first time they’d met in Brighton. That was the first time she’d seen Mr Semadini as well.

  Izzie glanced around and caught Carol grinning at her. Her face went scarlet but as the ride speeded up, Izzie loved every minute. It was pure madness; idiotic, ridiculous and wonderful … As she held onto the golden pole, she leaned back as the laughter bubbled from inside her.

  When he helped her down after the ride was over, she thought he was going to say something, but then the other girls were pulling her towards the Mouse House big dipper. Mr Semadini raised his finger to his forelock in a mock salute and then, as the crowds swirled around her, he was gone.

  They came back to the beach just in time for the fish and chip supper, though quite how Mr Semadini had managed to get it to them all piping hot nobody knew. While everyone else on the beach was making their way home, they sat under the brick shelters on the edge of the promenade and enjoyed every mouthful. After that, they strolled towards the big circus tent on the green.

  Izzie had never been to the circus before. They all filed in and sat together on long wooden seats. Liliana came to sit with Izzie and Mr Semadini was immediately in front of her. She only had to reach out her hand to touch his hair, but of course she didn’t. The show was amazing. They saw horses parading around the circus ring, girls bare-back riding, elephants on podiums, lions jumping in a cage beside their keeper and clowns spilling buckets of what looked like water, which turned out to be nothing but coloured pieces of paper. The sound of the band and the animal smells only added to the fun of the occasion. Izzie wasn’t sure if she was comfortable with magnificent wild animals performing silly tricks but she wasn’t about to spoil the occasion for anyone else.