‘I’ll try and get back down again for the last week of August,’ Francesca said. ‘If only for a long weekend.’ She looked at Karen before saying softly, ‘You sure you’re going to be all right, Mum?’
‘Of course,’ Karen said. ‘I’m really looking forward to getting organised with the B&B. Guy is going to take some photos and help me design a brochure before he leaves.’
‘Sorry I was a bit huffy with him the other day,’ Francesca said. ‘He’s actually quite nice. D’you think you and he might...?
‘Let’s wait and see what happens, shall we?’ Karen said lightly. ‘My divorce from your father isn’t going to happen overnight, and until I’m free…’ She shrugged. ‘Talking of which, I’m going to have to go back at some stage to sort things like clothes, etcetera, out. Probably be early September. You’ve still got some personal stuff at home too. Any ideas what you want done with it? There’s not going to be a lot of storage space for anything down here.’
Francesca shook her head. ‘No idea. Let me know when you’re going back and I’ll try and come home that weekend and help you sort it out. Right, I’d better make a move.’
‘I’ve put a few things together for you,’ Karen said. ‘Save you going shopping when you get back.’ And Karen followed Francesca out to her car with a basket full of food.
‘Thanks, Mum – you’re the best.’
Watching Francesca drive away, Karen felt a wave of nostalgia for the long-ago days of her life spent caring for the children when they were small. Now they were all grown-up and self-sufficient, living their lives the way they wanted to. So much of the life she’d taken for granted until recently was changing. But that was good – life was meant to be lived, and she was determined to do just that from now on.
‘Care to join me for a swim?’ Guy called out from his bedroom window.
‘See you down at the pool,’ Karen answered.
She quickly changed into her costume, grabbed a towel from the bathroom and went out onto the front terrace. She saw Bruce and waved her hand in greeting but kept walking. She suspected Bruce hadn’t entirely bought her explanation of why Tony and Carrie Penfold had turned up and would want to quiz her about it.
‘Karen, a quick word?’ Bruce said. ‘Can you give me a hand with Gabby’s room? I need to clear it and there are some things I need your advice about – designer dresses, etcetera.’
She smiled. ‘Not the world’s expert on things like that but I’ll do my best.’
‘Thanks. See you later then. Whenever you’re ready.’
Karen breathed a sigh of relief. No interrogation. She ran down to the pool, threw her towel on a lounger and jumped in the deep end, splashing Guy in the process. Who immediately dived in and grabbed her legs, pulling her under the water with him and holding her tight as they resurfaced together. A brief kiss and he released her, setting off on a fast crawl to the other end.
Karen concentrated on doing the twenty lengths she’d started to manage on a daily basis and tried to put the kiss out of her mind.
Ten minutes later, as they both climbed out of the pool and she wrapped herself in her towel, she said, ‘I’m not sure Bruce believes me about Tony and that girl getting the wrong address for their friend. D’you think I ought to tell him why they were actually here last night?’
‘Is there another reason then? I missed what actually happened.’
Karen nodded. ‘There’s something I’m not sure Bruce would welcome knowing, but I feel I ought to tell him.’ She took a deep breath. She needed to talk to someone about it and she instinctively trusted Guy; knew he could be trusted with the secret. So she told him.
‘Are they likely to come back?’ was his first question when she finished speaking.
‘She said not. But what if she really is Gabby’s daughter – Bruce would surely want to know, wouldn’t he? He and Gabby went through hell trying for a family. He could at least have some sense of connection with Gabby through her.’
‘Wouldn’t it be even more hellish for him knowing she’d had a child with another man? I know I found it difficult when Melissa and Hugh got together, even though we were over.’
‘Perhaps. But Carrie Penfold looked old enough to have been born before Bruce and Gabby got together. Maybe he already knows. Maybe Gabby told him about her existence before they married.’ Karen shook her head. ‘Bruce has asked me to help him clear some of Gabby’s things – I’m fairly certain it’s his way of being able to talk to me in private. To ask me more questions about Tony Trumble and why he and the girl turned up here yesterday.’
Week Three
Girly announced Karen’s arrival with a friendly bark when she walked along to The Bosun’s Locker the next afternoon. To her relief Bruce appeared to be his normal self.
‘Come on up. The last of Gabby’s stuff is in the small bedroom she used as her den. I’ve already put the clothes from the main bedroom in the clothes bank. But these in here are rather different. I don’t feel I can simply throw them away.’ He opened the wardrobe door as he was speaking.
‘Oh, I remember Gabby wearing a couple of these,’ Karen said. ‘She looked wonderful in them. They’re very saleable – especially the vintage ones.’
‘What do I do with them?’
‘Depends whether you want to sell them – you could donate the money to Gabby’s favourite charity if you didn’t want it. I think there’s still a lovely little secondhand boutique in Dartmouth – sells designer and vintage stuff for a commission. I imagine they’d be only to pleased to have them. Or you could give them direct to one of the charity shops.’
‘Quite like the idea of donating direct to Gabby’s favourite charity,’ Bruce said. ‘Next time I’m in town I’ll find that boutique and drop them off.’
‘What’s that?’ Karen asked, looking at the box in the bottom of the wardrobe. ‘Does that need sorting too?’
‘It’s just a few of Gabby’s teenage journals. Didn’t even realise she’d brought them down here. They can go too.’ He pulled the box out and Karen bent down to take a look.
‘What about this diary. Locked but no key,’ Karen said.
‘That can go as well,’ Bruce said, leaving it where it was on top of the box.
‘Aren’t you tempted to break into it and read it? See if it contains any secrets,’ Karen said, immediately regretting her words as she saw Bruce glance at her questioningly.
‘Tell me about that couple the other evening?’ he said. ‘Who were they really?’
Karen felt her heart sinking. Damn. He did suspect something. ‘They had the wrong coastguard cottages.’
Bruce shook his head at her. ‘Karen, I’ve known you a long time. I can tell when you’re not happy about something. Right now I think you’re uncomfortable with the fact you’re not being totally honest with me.’
Karen ran her hand over her mouth agitatedly, realising it was inevitable – she was going to have to tell Bruce the truth. He wasn’t going to stop until she’d come clean about what she knew.
‘You’re right. I’m not a natural liar. I didn’t want to upset you that night. It was simpler to tell you they’d come to the wrong address and send them on their way.’
‘OK. Had they come to the right place in reality? I did recognise the man from the Regatta Ball last year.’
Karen nodded. She’d wondered whether Bruce had made the connection.
‘Remember the man he came with, Robert Trumble?’
Bruce nodded.
‘The girl was his daughter – Carrie Penfold.’
‘So why did they leave? And why did the girl say she definitely wouldn’t be back?’
‘She was upset when I told them it was a memorial send-off. Clearly felt they’d barged in at the wrong time.’ Karen looked at Bruce thoughtfully. ‘How long had you and Gabby been together?’
Bruce looked at her startled. ‘Twenty-seven years – married for twenty-six of those.’
‘Of course. I remember you were newly married wh
en you bought The Bosun’s Locker.’
‘Are you trying to change the subject?’ Bruce demanded. ‘We’re going round in circles here. I understand she was this Robert Trumble’s daughter, but who did she hope to see by coming here?’
‘She was hoping to speak to the woman she said was her mother,’ Karen said quietly, praying he wouldn’t make her say the name out loud.
‘Why didn’t she stay and do that then?’ Bruce looked at Karen, puzzled.
‘Because… it wasn’t possible. It was too late. Eight months too late to be exact.’ Karen looked at Bruce, willing him to understand.
It took several seconds before the look on his face told Karen he’d realised the true meaning behind her words.
‘That’s crazy. You know, everybody knows, Gabby couldn’t have children. And even if she’d had one before she met me she’d have told me. We had no secrets from each other.’ Bruce stared at Karen. ‘The girl’s lying.’
Karen shrugged helplessly. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you.’
‘You believe her?’
‘I’m not sure. She didn’t strike me as looking much like Gabby – apart from her eyes. They were that same unusual colour Gabby’s were. A lovely greeny blue.’
Bruce stared at her. ‘I don’t for one moment believe that Carrie Penfold is, was, Gabby’s daughter. She wouldn’t have kept a secret like that from me.’ He turned and held the bedroom door open.
‘I think I’d like to be alone for a bit,’ Bruce said.
‘Of course,’ Karen said. ‘You know where I am if you want to talk.’ She leant in and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before going downstairs and leaving.
*
After Karen left, Bruce pulled the office chair from the desk and sank onto it. Putting his elbows on the desk and his head in his hands, his fingers worriedly began to massage his scalp to release the tension he could feel building up. All the while he sat there numb, trying to make sense of what Karen had just told him. Wondering whether there could possibly be any truth in it.
All those years together and Gabby had never even hinted at such a thing in her past. In her late twenties, when they’d married, he remembered her laughingly saying they’d better get on with it if they wanted a family, before her eggs were past their sell-by date. Two years later, when nothing had happened, they began the rounds of tests that were to fill their lives for far longer than they’d ever envisaged.
In fact, it was ten years before they gave up. He’d found Gabby sitting in her car one evening, sobbing her heart out after a visit to her gynaecologist. A visit she had for once gone to alone. That was the evening he’d decided enough was enough. If it wasn’t going to happen, so be it. He wasn’t going to let her go through any more heartache. They’d live with not having a family. And they had, on the whole. He’d suspected a few times that Gabby found being childless harder to cope with than she ever said. But then, if this Carrie girl was indeed Gabby’s daughter, she’d known that somewhere out there was a daughter she’d given away.
Bruce went downstairs in a daze, feeling in need of a drink. Pouring himself a tot of brandy – good for shock, he told himself – he stood in front of the French doors, staring unseeingly out at the sea. The amber liquid burnt his throat as he swallowed too much in one go, almost choking himself in the process. Waiting for the burning feeling to leave his throat, he wondered, if it were true, why Gabby hadn’t told him about the baby. Had she been in denial all the years they’d been married? Or was it the case that, having given the child away, she’d made herself forget its very existence? Bruce took a tentative sip of the brandy.
They’d always prided themselves on having no secrets from one another and this was a big secret. On a scale of one to ten it was a twenty. How would she have explained things if Carrie had turned up while she was still alive? The Gabby he knew and loved would have thrown the doors wide open and embraced her with love. But this other, hidden Gabby, the one he’d never known existed, who’d given away her baby… he had no idea how she would have reacted.
He felt the dog nudge his leg. Always at his side these days she seemed to know when extra attention was needed – both on her side and his. ‘Oh, Girly,’ he said stretching his hand down to fondle her ears. ‘Never in a million years would I have expected this to happen.’
Having told Karen he wanted to be alone, he suddenly felt the need to talk to her. Brainstorming the problem was the wrong phrase, but as a woman she was bound to view things differently. Maybe a calm outsider’s view would help him come to terms with it all.
The group picture was still on the table where he’d put it, and he picked it up as he walked towards the door. Inside The Captain’s House he could hear voices and laughter, and he hesitated before realising it was only Karen and Guy larking about.
‘Hi, may I come in?’ he called.
‘Of course. We’re in the sitting room,’ Karen said.
‘I know I said I wanted to be alone but I don’t now. I want to talk about it and try and make sense of things.’
‘I’ll leave you two to talk then,’ Guy said.
‘No, stay, please,’ Bruce said. ‘Another man’s reaction might help me sort out my own feelings.’ He turned to Karen.
‘One of the things I don’t understand is, if it’s true Gabby had already had a child before we met, why couldn’t she have another one?’
‘It happens sometimes,’ Karen said gently. ‘I have a friend who suffered the same way. It’s called secondary infertility. There are things they can do these days to help, but back when you and Gabby were trying…’ She shrugged. ‘Not so much help was available.’
‘I see. Presumably all the experts we saw would have known she’d already had a baby?’
Karen nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘So, Gabby would have had to ask them to be careful not to mention that fact in front of me when I accompanied her on numerous occasions,’ Bruce said, shaking his head. ‘That hurts. That she didn’t confide in me. Preferred to lie to me all our married life.’
‘Actually,’ Karen said, ‘she didn’t lie – she just didn’t tell you anything.’
‘Same thing,’ Bruce snapped at her. ‘She lied by omission. And that hurts.’
He held the photograph out. ‘D’you remember having this taken?’
Karen nodded.
‘She didn’t want to go, you know?’ he said. ‘D’you think it was because she realised that he’d be there?’
‘Possibly,’ Karen said. ‘I remember her asking Chris the name of his university friend. She went very quiet when he told her. When I asked her if she knew him, all she said was yes, a long time ago.’
‘He…’ Bruce jabbed a finger on the photograph at Robert Trumble. ‘He actually asked her that night, if she had a family. Good job I didn’t know anything about their past. I’d have probably hit him when he said that.’
‘Are you going to make contact with Carrie?’ Guy asked.
Bruce turned to him in surprise. ‘No. Why on earth would I? She’s nothing to do with me.’
‘She might like to learn about her mother from you,’ Karen said gently.
‘There’s a problem with that,’ Bruce said. ‘I only knew Gabby, my wife who I loved dearly and who frequently cried herself to sleep because she couldn’t have our children. The Gabby who was Carrie’s mother I never met.’
‘They were one and the same, Bruce,’ Karen said gently. ‘Yes, Gabby should have told you when you first got together that she’d had a child, but she didn’t. Which, it has to be said, was a big mistake on her part.’
‘The longer she left telling you, too, the more difficult it would have been to bring up the past,’ Guy said. ‘What about the diary you found? Have you…?
‘No, I haven’t read it,’ Bruce interrupted.
‘Maybe you should,’ Guy said.
‘You may find some clues as to what Gabby went through,’ Karen said. ‘Both in the past and more recently. You owe it to Gabby to
at least try and understand.’
‘It looks like a five-year diary, not twenty-five,’ Bruce said. ‘And I don’t believe I owe her anything. I think I’d better go. Thanks for listening.’
Back in The Bosun’s Locker he fetched the diary from the office and took it downstairs. Picking up a knife to cut through the leather strap holding the locked padlock he stopped. Replaced the knife in its holder.
Was this such a good idea? Knowing Gabby had chosen not to tell him about her child, whatever the diary said, wasn’t going to take away that hurt; knowing more details could only add to it. But maybe the diary would tell him nothing. With no indication of the years it covered marked on the cover, it could be last year’s diary – or thirty years old. Like the journals, it could be full of girlish trivia. Only one way to find out.
He reached for the knife again and began to cut off the padlock.
*
Karen and Hazel were enjoying a coffee before doing a spot of retail therapy in Dartmouth as part of the annual ‘girly day out’ they always treated themselves to.
‘How is it possible that there’s only a week and a bit left of summer down here?’ Hazel said. ‘It’s gone so fast this year. We’ve barely seen each other. Normally by now we’ve had numerous get-togethers. Killed a few bottles of Prosecco.’
‘My fault that, I think,’ Karen said quietly. ‘Things have been – let’s just say different this year. Different and difficult.’ She stirred her coffee thoughtfully. ‘And actually I don’t think they’ll ever return to the way they were. So much has changed – is changing.’
‘Are you still going ahead with your plans for moving down here permanently?’
‘Yes, and I’ve got an appointment with a solicitor in Kingsbridge soon to file for divorce.’
‘Sorry it’s come to that,’ Hazel said before glancing at her. ‘Where does Guy, the old friend, figure in all this?’
‘Nowhere at present. Neither of us is free yet. Not sure where he’ll be basing himself when summer ends either.’ Karen didn’t want to think about where Guy would be heading off to in a couple of weeks’ time. She knew when he left she was going to miss him like crazy. Talk about turning the clock back to being a teenager again. Meeting up with him all these years later had made her realise the mistake she’d made in marrying Derek.
Summer at Coastguard Cottages Page 18
