Wicked Beauty

by Susan Lewis

  Chapter 24

  BEANIE WAS WAITING at Redruth station when Rachel’s train pulled in, her dear, weathered face beaming with joy as she watched Rachel step down on to the platform.

  ‘Look at you! Just look at you,’ she cried, enveloping Rachel’s expanding waistline. ‘The baby’s grown so big. It’s going to be a giant.’

  Laughing, Rachel hugged her back, then between them they wrestled her suitcase and computer out to the trusty old Fiesta.

  ‘Everyone’s looking forward to seeing you,’ Beanie declared, as they lurched out of the car park into the hare-brained one-way system. ‘Jenny and I cleaned up the house a bit, and got you some shopping. Just something to tide you over till you can get to Tesco. Or we can stop on the way back, we’re going past.’

  ‘I’ll leave it until tomorrow,’ Rachel said, wincing as Beanie crunched the gears from second into third, then blithely ignored a No Entry sign. ‘Good short cut this,’ she informed Rachel, giving an indignant horn-blower a friendly wave.

  Hanging on to the seat edge, Rachel pressed her feet hard to the floor. ‘I suppose I should just be thankful you didn’t bring the motorbike,’ she said, as they clumsily merged back to relative safety.

  Beanie grinned. ‘So, how was your trip?’ she said, casting her a quick glance. ‘Got yourself a lovely tan, I see. But you had one before you went.’

  Rachel started to answer, then was reminded that Beanie didn’t always pause for breath.

  ‘We’ve had some lovely weather while you were gone,’ she was saying. ‘Like it is now. Sunny, but not too hot. Not as many tourists as we’d like, though. Oops! Didn’t see that,’ she cried, as they bounced up over a jutting piece of kerb. ‘Don’t think it was there the last time I came up here.’

  Since Beanie, by some mysterious Cornish fluke, had never had a single accident in her entire driving career, Rachel decided just to go with it, and tried to relax as she rattled merrily on about the excitement that had broken out at the end of last week when someone had reported seeing a chough over near Bodmin.

  ‘That’s the Cornish bird,’ she explained proudly. ‘No one’s seen one for years, and they say that’s why our prosperity’s gone down the drain. The chough took it with it, wherever it went. So now it’s back, we should be having some good times. And the Goonhilly Earth Station’s doing really well. So’s that Eden Project, so hooray for the chough is what we say.’

  Rachel smiled and wanted to squeeze her. It was so good being back, truly like coming home, seeing all the familiar flowers and bushes; the old thatched pubs on the roadside and the madly spinning windmills on the horizon. Best of all was the sheer whimsical delight of listening to Beanie’s cock-eyed, yet weirdly prophetic, superstitions. In fact it was all so heart-warming that it was no hardship at all to stick to her decision not to broach the subject of Chris until they got home. Besides, getting Beanie into any more of an excited, or even distracted state, while at the wheel of a car, would definitely not be wise.

  However, they were just chugging over Nine Maidens Downs – so named for the virgins who’d been turned to stone by witches – when Beanie slanted a glance from the corner of her eye and said,

  ‘So Chris went with you, I hear.’

  Rachel turned to look at her. ‘How do you know that?’ she asked incredulously.

  ‘Oh, you know what villages are like,’ Beanie said fussily. ‘Can’t keep nothing a secret. Not that I’m saying I disapprove of the two of you going off like that, but it was a bit of shock, I don’t mind telling you, with him being married, and you being … well, you know.’

  Rachel’s eyebrows were up. ‘But not as big a shock as I got when I found out he was married,’ she declared. ‘Why have you never mentioned it before?’

  Beanie appeared confused and surprised. ‘Well, I presumed you knew,’ she said.

  ‘Then you presumed wrong.’

  They drove on in silence for a while, then Rachel said, ‘So if everyone knows he was in the Caribbean with me, can I assume his wife does too?’

  Beanie’s eyes stayed resolutely on the road. ‘Don’t know about that,’ she answered shortly.

  ‘OK, then how does everyone know?’

  ‘Well our Nick told me, and I ’spect he got it from Elwyn, who takes care of Chris’s house.’

  Not quite sure what to make of that, Rachel said, ‘So do you know his wife?’

  ‘Not personally.’

  Rachel was still regarding her closely.

  Beanie sniffed.

  Rachel waited, then quickly grabbed the edge of her seat as Beanie’s foot went down and they picked up speed. ‘OK, OK, let’s leave it until we get home,’ she said, as they flew over the brink of a hill.

  Beanie slowed down.

  A minute or two passed, then not quite able to let it go yet, Rachel chanced it again, ‘Just tell me this,’ she said. ‘How come no one ever talks about his wife?’

  Again Beanie looked surprised. ‘Well, they wouldn’t, not to you,’ she retorted.

  Rachel frowned. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ she said.

  Beanie blinked. Then quite suddenly her hands tightened on the wheel. ‘Worst thing he ever did, marrying that woman,’ she snarled. ‘She’s all wrong for him. His mother would never have liked her. He should just get out of it.’

  ‘OK! OK!’ Rachel cried, jamming a foot to the floor as they careered round a bend on two wheels. ‘I can see you feel strongly about it, but let’s not kill ourselves over it, eh?’

  Beanie’s lower lip jutted forward as she eased off the accelerator and carefully negotiated the roundabout at Helston. ‘I thought Chris told you what’s been going on in the cove,’ she said after a while. ‘We all thought you knew.’

  ‘Well I obviously don’t, so maybe you’d like to enlighten me,’ Rachel said. ‘Have you seen him, by the way?’

  ‘No. Not since before you went.’

  Rachel said, ‘So what’s been going on in the cove? Actually, no, let’s wait till we get home,’ she quickly added, as Beanie started speeding up again.

  Half an hour later the car had been gratefully abandoned and Beanie was putting on the kettle while Rachel went round opening the windows. The breeze was warm, yet fresh, the scent of the sea and cry of the gulls such a soothing, welcoming tonic that it was tempting to pretend that she was no longer interested in what Beanie had to say about Chris Gallagher and his wife; but that would be a lie, so following Beanie outside with a biscuit barrel she said, ‘OK, the cove and what’s been happening. I’m all ears.’

  Beanie put the tray on the table, then lifted the pot to pour. ‘She’s got them all into smuggling,’ she stated, through tight lips. ‘And they’re just too stupid, or greedy or …’ Breaking off she handed a cup to Rachel, then filled one for herself and sat down.

  ‘They needs the money,’ she said, less feistily. ‘Fishing’s no income now. Monkfish, spider crabs, it was all junk a few years ago, and now they’re delicacies. But how long’s that going to last, eh? These seas is over-fished and our boys have been saying that for ten years and more. But no one ever listened, did they? They didn’t care, and now look what’s happened. No one can make a decent living any more. They’re up against all those super-crabbers from Europe and –’

  ‘Beanie,’ Rachel interrupted. ‘I know the problems, and if you’re using them to justify the smuggling of … Is it drugs?’

  ‘Not me, I’m not justifying it. I’m just saying, that’s all. They’ve been struggling for too long, our boys, and I’ll give her this, she’s made it possible for the young ’uns to start buying back the homes that have always been in their families. But this in’t no way to do it, I know that. “Oh Bean,” they keeps telling me, “it’s only marry-jewana,” but that’s not the point, is it? It’s illegal, and they’re going to wind up in trouble. And then where will they be? She won’t care. She’ll just be out to save herself. But she’s the one behind it all. She’s the one who gets all the fancy boxes made by Alice Phe
lps and her sister over in Kynance. Regular little industry they got going over there now. And the women here, they rolls the cigarettes – joints they calls them, well, I expect you know that – they rolls ’em up all expert like, then puts them in the boxes. All done. Nice and tidy, and then they gets taken up to London for her to do whatever she does with them.’

  Rachel was staring at her in amazement, for though she was fully aware that there were plenty of smuggling rackets going on all along the south coast, this one, for sheer inventiveness and designer-style convenience, was in a league of its own. ‘So where does Chris fit into it?’ she said, remembering how he’d managed to only half explain when she’d first asked him.

  ‘Well, he knows about it, of course, and I know he don’t like it much more than I do, because he said so, but it’s his wife, innit? And she’s got a mind of her own that one, that’s for sure, so he just turns a blind eye.’

  Since that was more or less what he’d told her, Rachel said, ‘So where does it all come from?’

  ‘The marry-jewana? Don’t ask me. All I know is it gets dropped off in the crab pots and when the boys goes out for the catch they brings it in.’

  ‘But someone’s got to be putting it in the crab pots.’

  Beanie shrugged. ‘I expect that’s something she sorts out, or one of her friends in London. They always know lots of people, don’t they, actors, ’specially the kind that’s into this sort of thing.’

  Rachel was still thoughtful. ‘So the reason no one ever talks about her, at least not to me,’ she said, putting it together herself, ‘is because Chris told them not to?’

  ‘I don’t think he told anyone that they wasn’t to mention her in particular,’ Beanie responded, ‘just the smuggling, was what he said. He didn’t want you to get involved in it, because it would make you … you know, one of those after the fact things …’

  ‘An accessory?’

  ‘That’s it. So I s’pose no one ever mentioned her in case the subject got on to the smuggling. Anyway, she don’t like them talking about her to anyone, so it’s not just you, because in general they’re as tight as a hog’s bottom about it all. Well, they have to be, don’t they? And anything she says goes, because she’s the great provider. They all worships her, but from afar, because she definitely never comes down here. Nick says she don’t like the sea much, which just goes to show how wrong she is for Chris, because it’s in his blood. His family’s from around here.’

  ‘Yes, tell me about them,’ Rachel said. ‘What did his father do again? I can’t remember if you ever told me.’

  ‘Oh, he was in stockbroking,’ Beanie answered. ‘Or something like that. He made a lot of money, anyway. And he was one of the top advisers to the Treasury, or something to do with the Government, for years. He knew a lot of important people. They used to come down here, in the summers, some of them. Molly, that’s Chris’s mother, me and her used to get down to some baking then. You should have seen us. And there was always something going on up at their house. They’d set up a gymkhana for the kids, or a donkey derby. Coconut shies, duck races over in the Helford river. There was parties and balls, all kinds of things. She loved to entertain, did Molly, and I loved to help her. Always music in the house – that’s where Chris gets it from. He’s really like his mother in that way, loves all those arty, cultural things.’ She brooded quietly for a moment. ‘Things is a bit different now, though,’ she said. ‘None of us ever gets invited up there now, or not very often. I don’t go. Don’t want to see what she might have done to Molly’s house.’

  Realizing it was highly unlikely that Beanie would know anything about any furtive activities of either the father or son, Rachel let the subject go, then a few minutes later said, ‘I now understand why everyone was so nervous when I came here after Tim died. They thought the place was going to be inundated by reporters, and that was the last thing they needed. So they cold-shouldered me to try and make me leave.’

  ‘Silly buggers,’ Beanie grunted. ‘Mind you, it didn’t half put the wind up them when Laurie turned up. They really didn’t want her around.’

  Rachel’s eyes showed her amusement as she recalled how Laurie had almost had her hand snapped off when she’d admired one of Alice’s boxes in the village.

  ‘It was Chris who sorted ’em all out in the end,’ Beanie went on. ‘Like I said, he told ’em you knew all about it, and that you was OK about keeping mum, just as long as no one tried to get you involved. So as long as they never mentioned it to you, you’d never mention it to them.’

  ‘Ingenious,’ Rachel remarked.

  From Beanie’s expression she obviously thought so too, though she clearly considered anything Chris Gallagher did was worthy of a halo. Which could just go to show what a gifted confidence trickster, or frightening split personality, he was!

  ‘Anyway, you better keep all this under your hat,’ Beanie said. ‘Nick and Todd and Pinkie and everyone, they’ll feel more comfortable if you don’t ever mention it, you know, the way Chris said.’

  ‘My lips are sealed,’ Rachel promised. ‘But you know it’s bound to come out in the end, don’t you?’

  ‘That’s what I keeps telling them,’ Beanie cried. ‘But they don’t listen. They’re getting their cars and their houses and holidays abroad, and that’s all they cares about. Not that I blame ’em, I just don’t want to see ’em all end up in clink.’ She nodded towards the house. ‘The phone’s ringing.’

  Rachel started, then got awkwardly to her feet, feeling weighted by the baby. ‘It’s probably Anna,’ she said, looking at her watch as she started inside. ‘Though it’s a bit early. They should still be shooting. Maybe it’s Laurie,’ and she sprinted as best she could across the kitchen into the sitting room. ‘Hello?’ she said, rubbing a hand over her belly.

  ‘Rachel? It’s Max Erwin.’

  ‘Oh, hello Max,’ she said, surprised to hear him, for they’d never spoken before. ‘If you’re looking for Laurie …’

  ‘No. I’ve been trying to get hold of you. There was a break-in at Elliot’s apartment last night …’

  ‘Oh my God!’ Rachel cried. ‘Was Laurie there? That’s why you’re calling.’

  ‘No, no, Laurie’s OK. They roughed her up a bit, and she’s still pretty shaken up …’

  ‘Where is she? Can I speak to her?’

  ‘She’s sleeping right now. They gave her something at the hospital. We’re at her friend Rhona’s place. If you call in a couple of hours she’ll probably be awake. But she wanted me to let you know what had happened, because we don’t know who they were, or what it was about. All we know is that the computer was at the front door, ready to go. They didn’t get the chance to take it, but as it’s a computer that both Elliot and Laurie use …’

  Rachel already understood what he was saying. ‘They could as easily have been after Laurie’s work as Elliot’s,’ she said.

  ‘Exactly. It’s more likely to be Elliot’s, because Laurie hasn’t used that computer since she moved out, but we can’t be sure.’

  ‘Have you got the police involved?’

  ‘Sure. Laurie’ll give you the whole story when you speak to her. She just wanted me to tell you so you could be on the alert. I don’t think anything’s likely to happen, but you could do worse than speak to the local cops down there.’

  Rachel’s mind flashed to the conversation she’d just had with Beanie. No, she didn’t think she could call the police. ‘OK,’ she said. ‘Thanks for letting me know. Is there any news on Elliot?’

  ‘No,’ he answered.

  After ringing off she wandered back out to the garden, where Beanie was pouring more tea. It was disturbing to know that until a week ago she wouldn’t have thought twice about calling Chris after receiving a phone call like that. Now, she could only stand here staring at the cliffs of the opposite headland, and the wash of the waves as they were sucked into the darkened mouths of the caves, and wonder just what the hell his role really was in all this. Surely to God s
omeone who was held in such high esteem, and affection, by all his neighbours couldn’t be the willing tool of a Machiavellian megalomaniac like Franz Koehler; couldn’t be in any way involved in the corrupting influences of Phraxos, much less in the insidious marketplace Max had described to Laurie. How could the man who danced like a fool to a steel band, then kissed her as he had during a storm, know what Tim’s involvement was in Phraxos yet keep it to himself and watch her suffer? How could he wander up the footpath like a minstrel, make her laugh and feel secure enough to confide in him, and then a few minutes later be on the phone to Franz Koehler telling him what he’d managed to get out of her? Was he really capable of doing something like that, of using his looks and charm to exploit her when he had to know that she was in the most vulnerable state of her life?

  It seemed inconceivable, beyond credibility, until she asked herself the questions: where was he now, and why was he staying away? Had he deliberately not told her about his wife, knowing that it would be much easier to get her to trust him if she thought he was only concerned about her? Certainly if she’d known who he was married to she’d never have allowed him so close, and maybe he knew that. So had he been using a very subtle seduction technique to win her trust that had almost got out of hand in the Caribbean?

  She shivered. Nothing had changed from a few minutes ago, the sun was still shining, the air was still warm, yet it was unnerving the way this place could present two such different faces in less than a heartbeat – one so serene and welcoming, the other so spookily malign. It made her think of the two theatre masks, with a frown and a smile, and then of Stacey, whose frown, she’d just learned, was exploitation, which was countered by a smile of benevolence. And what about Stacey’s husband? What were his two masks? She certainly knew one, and had, unquestionably, been as drawn in by its warmth as everyone else. But there was obviously a dark side too, that, at best, could be a son following in his father’s footsteps, in which case the lies and duplicity would, ultimately, be acceptable. But at worst … At worst it was just unthinkable.