Summer at Shell Cottage

by Lucy Diamond

  Silver Sands village wasn’t large by anyone’s standards – a few streets of houses, the post office, the bakery, the pub, the newsagent’s run by the same elderly couple who’d been there when Robert was a boy (he was convinced some of the stock was the same too, especially the crappier souvenirs at the back of the dusty shelves). It was a quiet place, with little traffic. Most people tended to go further along the coast to Ennisbridge or Bantham, preferring the bigger, more touristy beaches to be found there. In Silver Sands, you were lucky if you saw the local bus trundle by more than once a week.

  Talking of which … He narrowed his eyes. Maybe he was about to glimpse this rare and endangered vehicle again sooner than expected. He’d reached the end of the village now, where the bus stop stood, inconveniently after all the houses had ended. You never usually saw anyone there but today a dark-haired boy waited with a small suitcase by his feet, anxiously scanning the horizon.

  Robert glanced around, wondering if a parent or friend was in the near vicinity, but the streets were deserted. Strange. The boy seemed quite young to be heading off on his own – ten? Eleven? Maybe he was older than he looked. It was hard to tell with kids nowadays.

  He shot another look at the boy as he walked closer. There was something familiar about his face. The green eyes, the freckles, the way he held himself so stiffly, back straight, like a soldier.

  A thought struck him. Wait. Could this be him, Leo? His half-brother?

  Curiosity got the better of Robert. ‘Excuse me,’ he said, reaching the bus stop. The boy flinched, his hands curling protectively around the handle of the suitcase. He’d obviously been told not to speak to strangers. ‘I don’t suppose your name is Leo, is it?’

  The boy eyed him warily. God, it must be Leo. He really looked like Dad, right from the way he cocked his head to that suspicious well-who-wants-to-know? glint in his eye. Actually, now that Robert was standing right in front of him, those green eyes looked kind of bloodshot, as if he’d been crying.

  ‘I’m Robert.’ He held out his hand gravely. The boy didn’t move. ‘And I know you’ve probably been told not to talk to strangers but I’m not completely a stranger. Or rather, I’m not, if you’re Leo.’ He pulled a face. He was getting this all wrong. ‘I’m Robert Tarrant. Alec’s grown-up son? And if you’re Leo, then that makes me your big brother. Kind of.’

  Leo – if it was him (it had to be!) – looked worried but didn’t speak.

  Robert dropped his hand, feeling awkward, and leaned against the lamp post. ‘I always wanted a brother,’ he said, which was true.

  Leo glanced down and scuffed the floor with his trainer. ‘Are you the policeman?’ he asked in a low voice.

  ‘Am I the … ?’ Oh, he meant Victor. ‘No, I’m the other one.’ The unsuccessful one, in other words. The loser! Robert changed the subject quickly. ‘Where are you off to, then, with that case?’

  Now Leo looked positively anguished. ‘Nowhere,’ he mumbled, looking past Robert in the direction of oncoming traffic. Not that there was any, of course.

  Robert studied the timetable. The buses from here went up to Ivybridge but only ran twice a day, midweek. He glanced from Leo to the times listed, then back again. ‘You know, you could be waiting here a while, mate,’ he said gently. ‘The next bus is at three o’clock. That’s …’ He checked his watch. ‘That’s four and a half hours away.’

  Leo slumped at this news. He looked as if he had all the cares of the world on his shoulders.

  ‘Where were you going to, anyway?’ Robert asked again. A thought occurred to him. ‘Does your mum know you’re here, waiting for the three o’clock bus with a suitcase, by the way?’

  A tear rolled down Leo’s cheek and he kicked at the dust as it plopped to the ground. He shook his head.

  ‘Oh, mate. What’s up?’ Robert vividly remembered being that age, and the passionate feelings that could be aroused by some injustice or slight. He’d once marched out of the house himself, having left a note declaring that he’d run away because it wasn’t fair that he had to tidy his bedroom before Doctor Who. He’d ended up in the park for the longest ninety minutes of his life, sitting on a bench and feeling increasingly sorry for himself, until Olivia found him and gave him the biggest hug ever, shortly followed by the biggest bollocking. And he’d missed Doctor Who after all that. ‘Were you running away?’ he asked.

  Leo didn’t say anything but his lower lip trembled – a dead giveaway that Robert had hit on the truth. ‘Look,’ Robert said, ‘there’s not another bus for hours, you know that now. There’s only one thing to do, if you ask me.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Let your big brother take you to the pub and buy you a drink. And then tell me what’s happened.’

  The Haystack pub was yet to open when they arrived, so they wandered further along to the newsagent’s, Robert carrying the suitcase, and bought two cans of pop instead. Then they sat on the wooden bench outside the pub and cracked them open in the sunshine. ‘So, first things first,’ Robert said. ‘Where’s your mum today?’

  ‘Cleaning,’ Leo said, chugging back his lemonade thirstily.

  ‘And she thinks you are … ?’

  ‘She said she’d be back just after eleven. She left me on my own. I am nearly twelve, I’m not a baby.’

  ‘Right. But you were hoping to be gone by the time she came home. Was that the plan?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Did you have an argument or something?’

  Leo shook his head, eyes to the ground.

  Robert elbowed him. ‘Come on. I’m your brother, remember. You can tell me. Brothers can tell each other anything.’

  Leo bit his lip and for a moment, Robert wasn’t sure he was going to get anywhere. But then the boy asked with great solemnity, ‘Do you promise you won’t tell that policeman?’

  ‘What, Victor?’ God, this sounded serious. It crossed his mind for a split second that he might regret becoming involved. But the kid was looking at him so beseechingly that there was only one possible answer. ‘I won’t tell him, if you don’t want me to.’

  Leo looked down at the table, then searchingly up at Robert, then all around, as if to check that nobody else could possibly hear. Bloody hell. What had he done?

  ‘It was my fault,’ he mumbled eventually. ‘I … I killed him.’

  Holy cow. What on earth … ? Was the kid some sort of psychopath? Robert tried to keep his cool. ‘What do you mean? Who did you kill?’

  Leo squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and two fresh tears spurted out. ‘Dad,’ he said unhappily. ‘I’m really sorry, Robert. But I think I killed Dad.’

  Robert choked on his Coke. Of all the answers he might have been expecting, that was the very last one. He put down his drink and looked Leo in the eye. ‘You didn’t,’ he said kindly. ‘I’m telling you that for a fact. He had a heart attack. He was unfit, he ate too much and he definitely drank too much. His heart couldn’t cope any more. That’s what killed him, Leo. Not you.’

  Leo scrubbed at his eyes. ‘But … I rang him. And that was one of the golden rules. Mum always said, Don’t ring your dad. Even if you really really want to.’

  Robert didn’t quite get Leo’s point. ‘So you did ring him, and … ?’ he prompted.

  Leo nodded, his thin shoulders hunched. ‘I just wanted to talk to him,’ he said in a whisper. ‘I missed him.’

  It was hard not to feel angry at Alec just then. Angry that he’d never been able to give this boy quite enough of himself, because, selfishly, he’d split himself across two families, even though most people considered one family to be ample. And now look at this boy, so pale and upset, blaming himself because he’d made one single phone call. Because he just wanted to speak to his dad!

  ‘Of course you missed him,’ Robert found himself saying. ‘It must have been horrible, not being able to chat to Dad when you wanted to. But one phone call isn’t the end of the world. It certainly didn’t kill him.’

  ‘He shouted at me,�
� Leo mumbled.

  ‘Well, he did a lot of that,’ Robert said. ‘He shouted at me all the time when I was your age. But he still loved me. Even when I was really naughty. Even when I borrowed his car and crashed it into the wall.’

  ‘Did you really?’

  ‘Oh yes. I was a bit older, mind – more like sixteen. Showing off in front of my mates, like a prat. It was a really flash Audi, as well, brand new. My God, he was absolutely livid. I was grounded for a whole month.’

  Leo smiled a little bit, then looked anxious again. ‘The thing is,’ he said, ‘he was really cross when I rang. And I think that gave him the heart attack. Because then he sort of made all these weird noises and I heard Mrs Tarrant – your mum – come over and she was really upset and worried, shouting his name like something really bad had happened.’ He bowed his head. ‘So I just hung up. And then the next thing I know, he’s dead. Because of me.’

  ‘Oh, mate.’ No wonder he had looked so stricken. No wonder he didn’t want Robert to tell Victor about it. He must have been bricking it ever since. ‘It wasn’t your fault, you know,’ Robert said gently. ‘I absolutely promise you. He was going to have that heart attack whatever happened, whether you phoned up or not.’

  ‘Yes, but—’

  ‘No buts. Really – I’m serious. No buts. Look at me, Leo. You didn’t kill him. Okay? It wasn’t your fault. And I’m saying this, brother to brother, man to man, all right? Don’t worry about it. Do not worry about it for a single extra minute. That’s an order.’

  Leo said nothing for a moment. Then his lower lip wobbled again, and he burst into sudden, chest-heaving tears, his face in his hands. Poor little lad, Robert thought. Poor kid! He’d obviously been freaking out about this the whole time.

  Robert put an arm around him and pulled him into a bear hug. ‘Hey,’ he said. ‘Think about it this way. Dad died knowing that you loved him so much, you couldn’t bear to keep the rules any more, that you were bursting to share your news with him.’ He tousled Leo’s hair, feeling a rush of affection for the kid. ‘I think he’d have liked that, you know.’

  Leo scrubbed a grimy fist in each eye socket. ‘Really? Do you really think so?’

  ‘I know it,’ said Robert. ‘I promise you.’

  Once Leo had dried his eyes and blown his nose, Robert glanced at his watch and saw that it was nearly eleven o’clock. ‘Look, your mum’s going to be home soon, and then she’ll be worried when you’re not there,’ he said. ‘Why don’t we go back there together? I’d like to say hello to her anyway. I always liked your mum.’

  He’d even quite fancied her one summer, he remembered, when he was about twenty-five. She was pretty and shy with bobbed chestnut hair and an upturned nose. She sang as she stripped the sheets off the beds; she smelled nice whenever she passed him on the stairs. Great bum in a pair of shorts, too, as he recalled. She must already have fallen in love with Dad, by then, of course. God, that could have been messy, if he’d actually dared try anything with her.

  Leo perked up a bit as they made the short walk back to his house, telling Robert about his friend’s new puppy, his undying support for Exeter City, his feelings about starting secondary school in September (they had to wear a tie! He didn’t know how to do it! And the uniform made everyone look a right wanker, apparently). It was only as they turned into the cul-de-sac of boxy modern houses, all with identikit net curtains at their small mean windows, that he went quiet. Fair enough. Every boy knew that mums went mental if their sons weren’t exactly where they’d left them.

  Seconds later, they arrived at Leo’s house and Katie burst from the front door looking frantic before they’d even had time to knock. ‘For Christ’s sake, Leo!’ she cried, grabbing hold of him and then smothering him with a hug. Her voice was a mixture of anger, fear and all-consuming relief. ‘I was just about to come out looking for you. Where have you been? I didn’t know what to think!’

  ‘I was with Robert,’ Leo said, muffled against her chest.

  It was only then that Katie clocked who else was standing in her neat front garden. ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘Robert.’ Her expression became defensive, her arms still around Leo as if unsure of Robert’s motives.

  ‘I found him by the bus stop,’ Robert said, putting down the suitcase a little awkwardly. ‘We’ve had a good chat, haven’t we, Leo? Sorted a few things out. He’s all right now.’

  Katie’s eyes flickered from Robert down to Leo in a suspicious sort of way. ‘Bus stop? What were you doing at the bus stop?’ she asked her son. Then she turned to Robert, her voice becoming shrill. ‘Two hours, I left him, that’s all. He is eleven. And it’s difficult in the school holidays. I mean, I still have to work.’

  Shit, did she think Robert was having a go at her? Questioning her parenting? Luckily Leo spoke up before Robert had to defend himself. ‘I was going to run away,’ he muttered, pulling at one ear and staring at his feet. ‘But Robert changed my mind. He said I should come back.’

  Katie’s chin looked a bit wobbly when she noticed the suitcase and the fight went out of her at once. ‘Thank you,’ she said. She hesitated. ‘Don’t suppose you’ve got time for a coffee, have you?’

  ‘I’d love one,’ Robert replied.

  ‘That was nice, what you did,’ Katie said, as Leo went straight through to the back garden and began kicking a football at a goalmouth he’d chalked on the shed. ‘Talking him round, I mean. Your dad was always saying what a great guy you were.’

  The compliment was so unexpected – and so utterly welcome – that Robert couldn’t speak for a moment. ‘I actually always felt kind of a failure, compared to Dad, to be honest,’ he confessed, with a rather fake-sounding laugh.

  Katie passed him a mug of instant coffee and they went through to a small bright lounge which was decorated almost entirely with photographs of Leo, drawings by Leo and certificates commending Leo for football, running and his position on the school council. It was stuffy in there and she pushed open the two front windows before she replied. ‘Well, he didn’t think that.’ She sank into the faded blue corduroy sofa, tucking her bare feet up underneath her. ‘He admired your determination. Said he loved your spirit – how easy-going and happy you were. Honestly!’ she added, seeing the disbelieving look on Robert’s face.

  Robert cradled his mug in his hands. The words were like a soothing balm, a surprise gift, right when he needed it most. With recent events being the way they were, though, he wasn’t sure he could receive such compliments without feeling a fraud. ‘Well, I dunno about that,’ he said, shrugging.

  ‘I do. You’re dyslexic, right? Yeah, and he was so proud of how you slogged through all your exams, determined not to give up, getting to university and everything. Wasn’t it you who ended up teaching English somewhere really exotic?’

  ‘Well … it was Poland, just for a few weeks, but …’ Borscht, and three extra jumpers, ice inside the windows of his dorm, it had not been remotely exotic, merely another stop-gap scheme of Robert’s while he attempted to work out what the hell to do with his life.

  ‘There you go! See – how would I know all of that, if he hadn’t told me?’

  Robert smiled, but it was a sad sort of smile. ‘I’m not sure he’d be all that proud of me now,’ he admitted. ‘I’ve made a hash of things lately. Got myself in a bit of trouble.’

  It was hard to read Katie’s expression. ‘Well, we all do things that perhaps we shouldn’t,’ she said. ‘That’s life, though, isn’t it? I never expected to get pregnant when I was twenty-three, let alone …’ She spread her hands helplessly. ‘Let alone cause so much friction in your family. But I loved him, Robert. I really loved your dad. And I made the decisions I did back then because that love for him made everything seem worthwhile.’

  Robert nodded. ‘I get that.’

  ‘I mean, you do what feels right at the time, don’t you?’ Katie went on. ‘If you’ve mucked things up as you say, I’m sure you didn’t intend to. Just as I never intended to upset your mum or
anyone else.’ There was a moment’s pause. ‘I wouldn’t act the same way now,’ she said, with a sidelong glance. ‘I wouldn’t get involved with a married man, not when there were kids involved. So I’m sorry I’ve caused trouble and … and heartache. I feel bad for your mum, and all of you, I swear. At the time, I was just caught up in the romance of it. I didn’t think this far ahead.’

  Robert wasn’t sure what to say. Was she asking him for forgiveness? ‘It’s never easy,’ he said diplomatically.

  Katie gave him a half-smile. ‘No. Which is why we all end up making a hash of things, like you said, at some point or other. But then again, at the end of the day, I wouldn’t change anything either, because I wouldn’t have Leo otherwise,’ she said. ‘And he’s my world.’

  ‘He’s a great kid,’ Robert agreed. ‘A really nice lad. You must be so proud of him.’

  Katie smiled. ‘I am. Even when I can hear him thumping that effing football against my shed every five seconds.’

  They both laughed because the dogged thud-thud-thud was still audible despite them being here at the front of the house.

  ‘I’m glad we had this chat,’ she said, looking shy all of a sudden. ‘I don’t want to be enemies.’

  ‘We’re not enemies,’ Robert said. ‘We were never enemies. Mum’s just upset, that’s all. She feels betrayed by him – we all do, a bit. We thought he was the greatest man alive before … all this. You know.’

  She nodded. ‘Of course. I understand. But don’t forget – he thought that you were the greatest too. If I’ve learned anything about being a parent, it’s that even when your kids mess up or do something they end up regretting, you still love them.’ She eyed him meaningfully over the mug. ‘And he loved you. Very much.’

  It felt as if a great load had been lifted from Robert’s shoulders as he hugged both Katie and Leo goodbye a short while later, and promised to be in touch soon, for a tie-tying lesson, some penalty shoot-outs and whatever else they might want from him. Dad had loved him, he thought, walking away from the house with a new spring in his step. Dad had been proud of him. Even though Robert had known this deep down, it meant a lot to have another person, an outsider, validate him in this way.