‘Yes.’
‘It wasn’t just Melissa who moved them. At the end of last year Hugo pulled them up and flung them sky-high when he decided he’d made a mistake and ended their relationship. Melissa was two months pregnant at the time.’
‘That was bad timing on his part,’ Karen said quietly. ‘Did he know she was pregnant?’
‘No.’
‘How did Melissa react?’
‘By telling me she’d made the biggest mistake of her life leaving me for Hugo. Begged me to call off the divorce and get back together. Bring the baby up as mine. She didn’t want to be a single mother.’
Karen glanced at him. ‘A lot to ask.’
‘More than I was prepared to give,’ Guy said. ‘I offered to help financially and in any other way I could but I didn’t want to get back together again. It was over.’
He was silent for a few seconds. ‘Then she miscarried. When she landed up in hospital I was still named as her next of kin so I got the call in the middle of the night. She lost a lot of blood. It was actually touch and go at one stage. A week later, when she was discharged, I took her home and stayed to look after her. There was no one else and she was too weak to cope without help.’
Karen pulled up at a set of temporary traffic lights and turned to look at him. ‘It must have been a horrendous time for you on top of everything else. Did Hugo not volunteer any help?’
‘No, he’d buggered off to Canada. Said it was a long-arranged trip to see his parents. The next couple of months were difficult,’ Guy said. ‘Melissa had changed. Thin and brittle doesn’t begin to describe her. Lights are changing,’ he said, indicating the lights before continuing. ‘I knew she was trying to keep me there as long as possible in the hope I’d change my mind and stay. I also knew telling her I was leaving wouldn’t work. So I waited until she was strong enough to return to work and her life was returning to normal, and one morning, a week later, I left.’
Karen released the handbrake and drove past the now-green light. ‘How is she at the moment, d’you know?’
‘Charlie’s in touch with her and says she’s a lot better, thank goodness. I haven’t heard from her since I wrote to her recently, telling her she had to accept the fact, whether she liked it or not, that we were finished. We needed to start divorce proceedings. She has to move on – like I have.’
*
In the early evening hours of what would have been Gabby’s fifty-third birthday, Bruce was sitting on the terrace drinking a coffee before setting off for Slapton. Unbelievable to think it was eight months since she’d died. Gabby had been at his side for so long. Getting used to being alone hadn’t come easy but he’d got through those desperate weeks and months. He glanced up at the stars and stripes fluttering in the breeze. Tonight, when that came down, it would signal the final closure on their life together.
Keeping her ashes for so long probably hadn’t been his best idea but in truth he couldn’t have faced it before. He wasn’t even sure he was ready to scatter them this evening. He’d got used to talking to Gabby’s photo alongside the urn in the kitchen. Maybe he should leave them there. No, that was too morbid for words. He could hear Gabby scolding him, telling him to get a life. And that was exactly what he was trying to do by moving down here permanently.
He’d have to make a decision soon about the flat in town, whether to sell it or rent it out. Either way, he’d have to spend some time back there sorting things out; deciding what to do with furniture. There was no room here in the cottage for any more. The townhouse purchase was progressing, so maybe some of it could go there temporarily. Bruce ran his hand over his head. Things were going to be full-on after summer but that was good. At least life could be considered to be getting back on an even keel. This evening, after he’d scattered Gabby’s ashes, would mark the true beginning of that life. Nothing but memories of his old life would remain.
Five minutes before he was due to set off Guy appeared.
‘Thought I’d come with you for the ride and take Girly for a walk on the beach. OK with you?’
Bruce took Girly’s lead off the hook, causing her to immediately go into mad-dog mode. As he hooked her on, Guy said, ‘Don’t worry – private is private.’
Karen had obviously been talking to him and Bruce was grateful for that. ‘If you take Girly to the car, I’ll bring the ashes.’
The roads to Slapton were busy with holidaymakers returning from a day on the beach to their various temporary homes. By the time Bruce was pulling into the car park near the American memorial there was plenty of parking space.
‘Right, Girly and I are going to walk towards Strete Gate while you go and say your goodbyes,’ Guy said. ‘Back in about twenty minutes.’
Bruce took the urn, locked the car and made his way down over the pebbles to the sea. Walking slowly along, he began to let Gabby’s ashes flow gently through his fingers into the water.
‘Farewell my darling wife, thank you for the joy you brought me,’ he said quietly as he walked, watching as the waves took the ashes out to sea. Five minutes later and Gabby had been sent on her way.
Bruce took a deep breath before turning his back on the sea and walking up the beach to where he could see Guy and Girly waiting for him. Time to return to the cottages and come to terms with living the rest of his life without Gabby. But at least he was now on the right track and feeling optimistic about his future. Filling the hole Gabby had left in his life would be difficult but at least it was slowly beginning to happen.
*
The afternoon of the day Tony was taking her to meet her unknown mother, Carrie placed the three black bags in her car, ready to go to the nearest charity shop. She knew Plymouth, along the coast, would have an abundance of such shops but she didn’t really fancy driving that far. After checking the internet she’d decided St Luke’s Hospice in the small town of Modbury would be a perfect recipient for the bags. Small and local. And not too far away. She could explore the town too – and be back in plenty of time to get ready.
Driving through the country lanes with their high hedgerows and wild dog roses, Carrie felt at peace with herself. Something she hadn’t felt for a long time. Trying to analyse why she felt like this was impossible. Was it the fact she wasn’t working? That she didn’t have to worry about money? That she enjoyed living in Robert’s house?
She did love the house. Now she’d decluttered and rearranged things to her taste it felt more and more like her own home. Of course there were still lots of reminders of Robert about, but she quite liked that. It made her feel she was beginning to know this man whose legacy had the power to change her life.
She didn’t want to sell the house, she decided, but sensibly she had no alternative. Her job was back in Gloucestershire (not that far away – she could spend lots of weekends here, an inner voice niggled). Of course there was always the possibility of changing her job and moving down here permanently. There were lots of veterinary practices around. Suddenly, an idea that had seemed outrageous when it first popped into her head a couple of days ago didn’t seem so silly as she drove along humming happily to herself.
The charity shop was on the main road in Modbury and Carrie pulled up outside and switched her hazard lights on. Quickly she took the three bags into the shop.
‘I’ll just go and park and I’ll be back,’ she said to the woman behind the counter. ‘I like the look of that dress in the window.’
She squeezed the car into the last space in the car park, placed a ticket on the windscreen, all the while noticing the delicious smells coming from the café in the little courtyard adjacent to the parking lot.
Back at the charity shop the woman had taken the dress out of the window. A button-through cream linen dress with a scoop neck, short sleeves and a swing skirt, it still had the original designer tag on it. It was her size too. When the woman told her the price she didn’t hesitate. ‘I’ll take it.’
‘Would you like to try it on?’
Carrie shook he
r head. ‘No, I’m sure it’ll be fine.’
Making her way back to the car she stopped off at the Lazy Cow Coffee Shop and treated herself to a slice of ‘happy cake’, which the waitress assured her would put a smile on her face, and a cold drink. Sitting there enjoying the sunshine she heard a man’s voice talking to a child and froze. She knew that voice.
She pulled the sunglasses she’d pushed up on her head down over her eyes and, keeping her back to the sound of the voice, slumped down in her seat, trying to make herself inconspicuous as she stared out over the street. Childish voices were demanding ice lollies.
‘Mummy would buy us one. You’re mean, Daddy.’
‘I happen to know for a fact Mummy would not buy you one,’ Dom’s weary voice protested. ‘I’m not mean I’m… Carrie, is that you?’
Damn and blast, he’d spotted her. She sat up straight and turned to face him. ‘Yes. What are you doing here?’
‘We’re on our way home but Sophie wanted to buy a picture from one of the local artists. How are you? Enjoying life in Devon?’
‘I am, thank you. I think you’d better go claim your children. They sound as if they’re creating mayhem in the café.’
Taking advantage of Dom’s attention wandering away from them, the two children had gone into the café and were running riot.
‘Oh hell. Freya. Tom. Stop that immediately.’ And he rushed into the café, shouting over his shoulder. ‘Give me a call when you’re back home.’
Carrie placed a five-pound note securely under her plate, picked up her half-eaten piece of ‘happy cake’, which was just too delicious to abandon, scooped up her things and ran for the safety of her car.
Driving home she realised that the only emotion she’d felt on coming face to face with Dom again was a positive one. He’d done her the biggest favour getting his so-called ex-wife pregnant for a third time. Ring him when she returned to work? No chance.
Back home Carrie went straight upstairs and tried on her new dress. Was it too dressy to wear this evening? She wanted to look good obviously but not too OTT for a summer evening. Personally, she thought the dress was perfect. It fitted her beautifully and she adored the way the swing skirt moved when she walked.
Waiting for Tony to arrive the nerves kicked in. Elizabeth and Malcolm had given her their blessing to seek out her birth mother but she knew they were worried about the consequences of her action. Was she being selfish going ahead with this evening? And what if the woman had a family she’d never told about her? How would she handle it?
Tony, when he arrived, had also made an effort to look good, she realised. Crisp white shirt, hair nudging the collar and dark-blue jeans. And she swore she could smell cologne on his face as he kissed her cheek in greeting.
‘Nice dress,’ he said unexpectedly as he opened the Land Rover door for her.
‘Thank you. You’ve scrubbed up nice too and good heavens – you’ve cleaned the car. Inside anyway. Is that for my benefit?’ Carrie laughed as she looked at the outside, which was still as muddy as ever.
‘Oh, do get in,’ Tony said, grinning at her. ‘I do muck it out every month or so. It just happens this is the month for the inside. Washing it is on next month’s agenda.’
‘No Lola tonight?’ Carrie said, reaching for her seatbelt.
‘At home with mum – who incidentally wants to meet you sometime.’
‘Oh.’
‘Don’t sound so surprised. She was very fond of Robert.’
‘She knows I’m his daughter?’
Tony nodded. ‘Word has got out – not from me. Think most of the village know.’
‘Nobody has said anything,’ Carrie said.
‘Most won’t until you mention it yourself.’
‘What about your dad?’
‘Died eight years ago.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be. He wasn’t exactly a model father or husband.’
Carrie didn’t respond to that, sensing Tony didn’t want to talk about him. Instead she said, ‘How long will it take us to get to these cottages?’
‘Half an hour, maybe less.’ He glanced across at her. ‘Have you worked out a strategy for broaching the subject of who you are?’
‘I thought I’d just bound up and introduce myself – Hi, I’m your long-lost daughter – bet you’re surprised to see me.’
‘Very subtle – not. You can’t do it like that,’ Tony said, horrified.
Carrie sighed. ‘I was joking. No, of course I won’t do that. I just haven’t worked out yet what I will do.’
‘We’ll follow my plan then,’ Tony said. ‘As they’ll hopefully remember meeting me at the ball last year, we’ll use that as our opening strategy.’
‘OK,’ Carrie said. She was silent for several minutes, watching the thatched cottages of a roadside village flash by. ‘What if she won’t even talk to me? I could be opening up a whole new scenario of trouble all round.’
‘You getting cold feet by any chance?’
Carrie nodded miserably. ‘No. Well, just a bit.’
‘We’ll be there in five minutes now. And my advice, for what it’s worth, is that you pull your shoulders back, fix a smile on your face and carry on. You’ll regret it later, having come so far, if you don’t. You said you only want to meet her, not become involved in her life, so let’s do that and then see what happens.’
Carrie sat up straighter and tried to smile.
‘Right, here’s the turning for the cottages.’ And Tony turned onto a rutted track leading up the cliff. Two hundred yards later he parked alongside a row of cars and switched off the engine and they got out.
‘Come on then. Let’s do this thing.’ And taking her by the hand, he walked towards the gate that led into the gardens of the coastguard cottages.
*
When Bruce and Guy got back, Karen and the others were waiting for them at The Bosun’s Locker. Standing around awkwardly, chatting, knowing that tonight’s sundowner was different and waiting for the solemn part of the evening to be over.
Once the flag had been lowered and the minute’s silence had taken place, everyone made their way along the terrace to The Captain’s House and Karen began to hand round glasses of the vintage demi-sec champagne – Gabby’s favourite tipple – that Bruce had declared was the only drink they could have to celebrate her life with.
After Bruce had asked everyone to raise their glasses in a toast to Gabby and absent friends, talk naturally turned to everyone’s memories of her. Her love of art, how organised she’d always been with everything, her early morning swims, her sheer enthusiasm for life.
An hour later, opening yet another bottle of champagne, Bruce realised the evening was turning into a party. Gabby would approve of that. Music from the player in the sitting room was drifting out of the open window. Bruce smiled as he recognised a favourite of theirs, Ella Fitzgerald singing ‘They Can’t Take That Away From Me’.
He wandered from Hazel over to Toby, topping up their glasses before he moved across to talk to Francesca, who was sad her holiday was finishing in a few days so definitely needed her glass topped up. Walking over to Simon and Wills, he heard the garden gate go and turned around to see a couple walking hesitantly into the garden. He watched as Guy spoke to them before beckoning Karen over.
Chris and Sandra moved over with her, blocking his view and he was too far away to hear what was said, but he did see Karen glance across at him, her face serious.
He mouthed, ‘Everything OK?’
When she didn’t nod or smile at him but simply ushered the couple away from the party and into the kitchen he began to wonder what was going on. Who the couple were. He was sure he’d seen the man before somewhere.
Guy appeared at his side holding out his empty glass. ‘Anything left in the bottle?’
Bruce poured the last of the champagne into the glass. ‘What’s going on? Who are that couple? I recognise the man, I think.’
‘Don’t know names. Chris and K
aren met him last year at some dance or other.’
‘Ah, the Regatta Ball,’ Bruce said, remembering. ‘He was with an older man, friend of Chris’s from the university. Any idea what they want?’
‘Said something about a friend of theirs living up here. I expect they’ve got the wrong coastguard cottages. Karen will sort it.’
In the kitchen Karen was far from sorting it. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She vaguely remembered the young man from last year and for some reason the girl had a familiar look about her. She’d asked the man to explain again who he was and why they were here.
‘I’m Tony Trumble and I was at the Dartmouth Regatta Ball last year with my friend Robert Trumble. I met you and your husband, if you remember, your brother and his wife, and Bruce and Gabby Adams.’ Tony stopped speaking and caught hold of Carrie’s hand. ‘This is Carrie Penfold, Robert’s daughter. I was hoping to introduce her to Gabby tonight.’
‘That’s impossible, I’m afraid,’ Karen said. ‘Can I ask, was there any particular reason you wanted them to meet?’
‘She’s my mother,’ Carrie burst out, unable to contain herself any longer.
Shocked, Karen turned to look at her. ‘She can’t be. Gabby was unable to have children. She and Bruce tried for years. They were desperate for a family.’
‘Why is it impossible for me to speak to her? Couldn’t you just go and ask her if she’ll speak to me in private?’ Carrie asked. ‘I just want to meet her the once. I don’t want to cause a scene or upset anyone.’
Karen closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again. This girl couldn’t possibly be Gabby’s daughter although there was a certain something about Carrie’s face that did remind her of Gabby.
‘She’s not here, that’s why you can’t meet her,’ Karen said softly, keeping her gaze locked on Carrie’s face, knowing she had to break the news as gently as she could, just in case the girl was speaking the truth. ‘I’m sorry. This isn’t just a party. It’s a memorial for Gabby. She died at the beginning of the year.’
In the silence that followed her words, Karen saw Carrie’s face blanch before she visibly pulled her shoulders back and took a breath.
Summer at Coastguard Cottages Page 16
