The Girl on the Beach

by Morton S. Gray

  She’d been telling Mandy about Nick Crossten’s latest painting. She had decided against displaying his work in her gallery, as it was so different in style from her own work, but she’d asked if Mandy might take a few of his pictures for the craft centre to see if they would sell.

  ‘I’ll have to ask Harry Dixon first, of course, after all the pictures were painted using school materials and Nick is under age.’

  ‘What about his mum? Won’t she need to give permission?’

  ‘I was hoping Harry would deal with that side of things.’

  Mandy twisted round in her seat and fixed her with the type of stare Ellie had come to recognise as the expression her friend wore when she had something niggling away at her.

  ‘Why do you always say Harry’s name in that tone?’

  ‘What tone?’ She shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

  ‘That strange, wary tone.’

  ‘I do not.’ She crossed her legs.

  ‘You do so. What’s it all about, Ellie?’

  ‘I don’t know what on earth you mean.’ She crossed her arms, annoyed she was being typically defensive.

  ‘From where I’m sitting, you two would be perfect for each other.’

  Ellie’s nerve endings jangled.

  ‘What!’

  ‘In my opinion, you’re very well suited.’ Mandy persisted.

  ‘But, I’m not looking for a man.’ Ellie started to pull her fingers through her hair.

  ‘No, but if you were, Harry Dixon would be an ideal candidate.’

  ‘In your eyes, maybe, but not in mine. Anyway I thought you were convinced he was gay.’

  ‘That was before I saw the way he looks at you and how he held you when you danced at the beach.’

  ‘He does not, did not.’ She crossed her arms and legs even tighter.

  ‘Why won’t you even consider it? I know you were suspicious of him when he first arrived, but he denies ever being in Cornwall. He’s good-looking, the right sort of age, intelligent and to top it all, he gets on well with Tom.’

  Ellie laughed. ‘And these are the main ingredients for romance are they?’

  ‘It’s bugging me. He’s made it clear he doesn’t want me, but I reckon you’d be in with a good chance. Think how thrilled Tom would be if you were dating his hero.’

  ‘He’s not Tom’s hero.’

  ‘Really? Wake up. Haven’t you heard the way Tom talks about Harry?’ Mandy changed her voice to imitate Tom’s way of speaking. ‘Harry said I was good at this. Harry said I should try that.’

  ‘What if it went wrong?’

  ‘Oh, Ellie, I despair. He even looks enough like Tom for people to think he’s his father.’

  Ellie spluttered and spat wine all down her top. It left a dark stain that she mopped at with a tissue as she tried to marshal her thoughts. She was anxious to move away from this topic of conversation.

  ‘I worry, Mandy. I worry that I’m not a good enough mother for Tom. That I’m not … enough.’

  ‘Rubbish! You’re a brilliant mother. Tom’s just going through those difficult teenage years. Don’t you remember what it was like yourself?’

  ‘I worry what happened with my ex has damaged him for life.’

  ‘I’m sure whatever happened in the past makes Tom value you more, even if he doesn’t show it most of the time. That’s lads for you. We can’t change the past though, can we? We just have to cope with the here and now and move on into the future.’

  ‘If only it was that simple.’

  ‘Look, I have your best interests at heart, all I ask is that you think about it. Harry has been good to Tom, good for Tom too, so why don’t you cut him some slack, even if you won’t consider dating him?’

  Mandy’s words stuck in Ellie’s mind. We just have to cope with the here and now and move on into the future.

  It was true, she had seen no sign that Harry was up to anything sinister. His heart and soul appeared to be engaged in the interests of Borteen High and its pupils. She’d been suspicious of his motives in the beginning, but now that seemed unfair. She couldn’t change the past. Anyway, would she want to? It would mean a life in which Tom had never been conceived and that was unthinkable. Her son had been the source of almost all joy in her life for the last fourteen years.

  She felt jumpy today. Tension lodged between her shoulder blades. A letter addressed to Ellie Jacob had somehow been forwarded to her through a roundabout route. The letter was from the solicitor she’d used in Cornwall and detailed the date when Rushton Jacob, her ex-husband and attacker, would be released from jail. Ellie had felt sick as she read the words. She was even more on edge, because it had taken a while for the letter to reach her. Rushton had been out of jail for over a month already.

  If the letter had found her in Borteen, there was a chance that her ex-husband could too. Would Rushton still want to find her? They were divorced, she’d served the papers on him whilst he was inside. She’d changed not just her name, but thanks to his attack, her appearance too. There was, however, the small matter of his threat to kill her and also, his stash of cash. She’d found the money after he had been taken away by the police. She knew that she should probably have handed it in, but she also knew that they needed it to survive.

  Her weekly mentoring meeting with Zack seemed to come around with great regularity. Ellie had become used to the boy’s blustering swagger, with which she realised he actually tried to mask a deep-seated insecurity. The way he dressed and behaved were just for show. Underneath it all, he was an uncertain adolescent trying to find his way in the world.

  She didn’t think Zack was opening up to her entirely. Of course, she worried it was her fault, due to her way of talking to him or lack of training. She’d begun to browse websites about mentoring in the hope of finding the key to unlocking Zack’s potential.

  They had arranged to meet first thing in the morning before the start of the school day. This meant Ellie could get away to open her gallery by nine-thirty. She’d rehearsed various ways to open the session today, right down to how to arrange the seating, but it was all unnecessary, when Zack bounded in with his eyes shining with excitement.

  ‘Miss, Miss, can you guess what happened to me this morning?’

  ‘You’ll have to tell me, Zack, I’ve no idea.’

  ‘A man stopped me round the corner from school and asked if I wanted to buy drugs. He had all these tablets, all different colours …’ He beamed as if it was some sort of badge of honour to be asked such a thing.

  The hairs at the back of Ellie’s neck stood to attention. ‘What! Just now?’

  ‘Yes.’ Having looked thrilled, as if he was telling her something exciting, Zack subsided into the chair, as he became aware of her reaction to his news. He looked as if he’d been caught smoking behind the bike sheds.

  ‘You didn’t buy any drugs did you, Zack?’

  ‘I hadn’t got any money.’ His tone suggested he was disappointed.

  Ellie thought quickly. ‘Stay right here. I’m going to fetch Mr Dixon so you can tell him exactly what you just told me.’

  ‘Have I got to, Miss?’

  ‘Most definitely.’ She suddenly worried that Zack might run off. ‘Actually, Zack, come on, we’ll go and find him together. Hurry up. I think it’s important we move quickly.’

  Harry was in his office when the two of them burst in unannounced. He glanced from one to the other. ‘By the looks on your faces, you’d better sit down.’

  Ellie quickly told Harry what Zack had told her. He jumped to his feet.

  ‘Zack, tell me what the man looked like.’

  Poor Zack had lost his earlier bluster. ‘Sir, he was as tall as you, but with darker skin.’

  ‘Black skin?’

  ‘No, sir, just darker.’

  ‘What was he wearing?’

  ‘Smart trousers and a shirt, but no tie. He’d got a blue jumper tied round his waist and it hid a bag where the drugs were.’

  Harry ruffled Zack’
s hair. ‘Well done for the description, Zack.’

  He turned to Ellie. ‘Ms Golden, I’m going to go out and see if I can find this man.’

  ‘Do you want me to call the police?’

  ‘Leave it till I get back, we don’t want police cars scaring him off. I won’t be long.’

  He rushed out of the office. The door banged against the wall.

  Ellie wanted to shout, “be careful”, but somehow it didn’t seem appropriate.

  ‘Zack, you’d better go to your form room. School is about to start.’

  As if in answer, the bell to signal the start of the school day rang out.

  Ellie jumped despite knowing it was going to happen. ‘Probably better if you keep this to yourself until Mr Dixon has spoken to you again. I know it will be hard, but please try.’

  Zack’s eyes were full of unshed tears. ‘Did I do anything wrong, Miss?’

  ‘No, Zack, on the contrary. You did the right thing to tell me. I’m very proud of you.’

  He grinned uncertainly and went off to class looking much less cocky than usual. Ellie knew it was a vain hope he would be silent about the drug dealer.

  She sat in Harry’s office feeling as if she had no right to be in his personal space. It was a very functional room, with a desk and chair for the headmaster and two visitors’ chairs opposite. On the side wall was a huge mahogany bookcase full of books and papers and a sad looking plant that needed water. Harry didn’t appear to have personalised the room at all, but the air held traces of his aftershave. In the end, Ellie stood by the window, looking out over the school grounds.

  Harry returned fifteen minutes later, his face flushed.

  ‘Any sign?’

  ‘No. I ran all around the surrounding roads. Good job I’ve been training every morning. I guess whoever it is disappears when school starts and the potential customers dry up. I’d better question Zack again, find out if any other students were approached and contact the police. I really hope no Borteen High students have bought drugs or taken any on the premises.’

  ‘That’s a scary thought. Although, surely the teachers would have noticed changes in behaviour?’

  His face became serious. ‘Drugs are dangerous things and can change lives. I can testify to that. They fill me with horror.’

  She squirmed. ‘You’ve taken drugs?’

  ‘My step-brother died after taking Ecstasy and someone once laced my drink and it led to me losing my job, losing everything I had, actually.’

  The image of Norrie’s back as he fumbled to open a bottle of beer rose up in her mind. Was Harry referring to that beer? My God. Did I give him that laced drink?

  Had Harry lost everything because of her? She wanted the floor to open up and swallow her. She became hot and sweaty. Thankfully, Harry was busy talking to the local police station on the telephone and didn’t notice her discomfort.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ellie couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned until her bed clothes were tied in knots around her body. She wanted to ask Harry what had happened back then, when he said he’d lost his job, but to do so she had to ask about Cornwall again, re-voice her suspicions about his identity and jeopardise the fragile truce that had been building between them.

  Her mind replayed that night in the past on constant memory loop. The guilty feelings from back then, about leaving Ben on the beach after they’d had sex and the new growing questions about whether she’d given him the laced beer without realising it, threatened to overwhelm her.

  How would Harry react if she asked him more questions and, more to the point, if he realised she had maybe unwittingly led to his downfall? She hadn’t actually seen Norrie put anything into the beer she had offered to Ben, but she seemed to remember it had taken him a while to remove the lid.

  Her eighteen-year-old self had longed for Ben to notice her, but he was unattainable and aloof. He’d always been on the edge of the group. After sipping that beer, he suddenly couldn’t take his hands or his lips off her. It had felt wonderful to be the focus of his universe, so she hadn’t questioned his change of heart.

  They’d walked along the beach together into the shadows. Ben took off his jacket, laid it down, pushed her gently onto the sand. She could remember the silky texture of the jacket lining against her spine. His eyes had sparkled, lit by moonlight in the darkness. She hadn’t cared about anything, because his body was pressed against her own, one hand in her hair, one exploring her neck, then cupping her breast, circling and playing with her nipple through her thin T-shirt and then pushing back the fabric to kiss and nip her skin. She’d arched her back, pushing herself closer against him. The sound of the zip of her shorts. His fingers exploring under the band of her bikini bottoms. His inquisitive tongue.

  If she closed her eyes, Ellie could still imagine the sensations. Hear his and her moans, framed by the sound of the ocean close to them and see the moon in the darkness above. He’d tasted of beer and her lips tingled.

  She’d always thought of this part of that night as a time of magic and pleasure, but with hindsight, she realised that even if Ben had still been alive the next day, there was no guarantee he would have wanted anything further to do with Ellie or her baby.

  If that beer she gave to him had been drug-laced, their encounter that evening made more sense. He hadn’t wanted her at all. It had just been drug-fuelled lust on his part and stupidity on her own. The endearments and caresses she’d let herself believe were the beginnings of a relationship had meant nothing. Ben hadn’t really known what he was doing, which was probably why he didn’t remember her. She must have appeared like a dream, an hallucination, a figment of his imagination, to be forgotten when the drug wore off.

  Ellie tortured herself with her thoughts. Repressed tears began to pour onto her crumpled pillows.

  She was a fool.

  Deluded fool.

  Idiot.

  She had meant nothing.

  He didn’t even recognise her.

  Her rational mind added that her face was different after her surgery.

  It didn’t help.

  She tried to think exactly what had happened after they’d made love, had sex, she wasn’t sure how to describe it any more.

  Ben had gone to wash in the sea and the other men from their group had joined him. She remembered them laughing and splashing about in the surf.

  She had grabbed her clothes, scrabbled up the sand dunes and disappeared into the night, not wanting to be embarrassed in her state of undress, not wanting Norrie and the others to be certain of what had happened, however much they might speculate.

  What had happened to Ben afterwards?

  It had always been a mystery.

  She wouldn’t know unless she could get Harry to talk about it, but to do so would risk exposing what she now suspected was her part in what he had described as his downfall.

  Ellie disentangled the sheets and, although it was only five in the morning, went to shower. She was unlikely to get back to sleep and perhaps she could use this torrent of emotion to fuel her painting.

  Harry stared out of his office window. He didn’t see the students milling around the playground. The phone call he’d received earlier had stolen all of his thoughts.

  ‘Harry, I’m afraid I’m ringing to give you a warning.’ His contact’s voice always cut through whatever had been happening before his call. Sam only rang if there was information important to keep Harry safe and for regular calls to check on him. It was one link with the past he couldn’t afford to sever.

  ‘Warning? What do you mean?’

  ‘We have reason to believe that the drug selling incident outside Borteen High might be more serious than you imagined.’

  ‘How did you find out about that already?’

  ‘The man we believe to be involved is on our watch list.’

  ‘Please explain.’ The neckband of his shirt suddenly felt too tight.

  ‘It’s more than likely linked to the prison release of one of yo
ur old associates.’

  Harry had loosened his tie and undone the top button of his shirt. He wasn’t nervous exactly, more unsettled. What if he’d found the drug seller that morning and been recognised?

  ‘How could he have found me?’

  ‘We’ve thought about that. We came to the conclusion that it wasn’t you he’d traced, but the lovely Ellie Golden.’

  ‘Ellie! Why would they be after her? And how do you know she’s lovely?’ He regretted the last question, he’d given his feelings away. ‘Who is this man?’

  ‘It’s her ex-husband. Nasty piece of work. Don’t think a spell in prison has improved him at all from the reports we’ve had. Rushton Jacob.’

  Harry felt a whooshing sound in his head as the words filled him with shock. Here was Ellie’s link with the drugs world. The link he’d hoped he wouldn’t find. Rushton Jacob, the man who more than likely had been involved in his beating on the beach and might even have thrown some of the punches. He rubbed his damaged ear, as if the connection would conjure up the face of his attacker, but as usual there was nothing but emptiness where memories should be.

  ‘Just be wary, Harry. If he realises who you are, he might want another shot at revenge.’

  ‘I don’t like the sound of this. I can’t endanger the children of this school.’ He fought a sudden panicky feeling in his stomach.

  ‘At the moment, nothing suggests he’s even aware of your presence in Borteen.’

  ‘What about Ellie? Should I warn her?’

  ‘How do you propose to do that without admitting your past identity? You haven’t admitted it already, have you?’

  ‘No, of course I haven’t, although she does suspect I was once Ben Rivers, as I told you.’

  ‘Best keep it at speculation, not certainty.’

  Harry fell silent, mulling over the options.

  ‘But, she could be in real danger if he’s gone to the trouble of tracking her down.’

  ‘Maybe wise to keep away from her, Harry.’

  Keep away from her. How could he when every cell in his body wanted to protect her from this dangerous man?