The Body on the Beach (The Weymouth Trilogy)

by Lizzie Church

  ‘I have had a monstrous good time, though I missed you, Kitty. Many’s the time I wished you were by my side. But I got the business done and made some good connections. Cutlass may well have more work for me at some time,’ here he looked at her a little shiftily. ‘I could do with the extra kelter, that’s for sure.’

  ‘So tell me all about it, my love. It has felt quite strange and empty since you’ve been gone.’

  Giles proceeded to tell her all about his time in London – where he had stayed, what he had seen, who he had met with. To Kathryn it sounded little enough to keep him occupied for the best part of two months but she forbore to comment and tried to sound as interested as he would expect her to be by asking him some questions and assuring him of her pleasure in his enjoyment of the trip.

  ‘And what about you, Kitty? How have you been spending your time? And who is this chap’s sister – the one who brought you home? I have not heard mention of her before.’

  ‘Oh, his sister is Mrs Wright. She lives by the quay in Weymouth. We saw each other in Harvey’s library. We somehow found out that we are exactly of an age and had something in common immediately. I have visited her for ever, although she doesn’t get up to Sandsford very much.’

  Although her account was truthful as far as it went, Kathryn was concerned to find that she felt totally unable to tell her husband the whole story – that she had found Mr Berkeley on the beach, looked after him for a week at Sandsford House with just Sally and Tom as chaperones, and befriended his sister only after that. Despite telling herself that there was nothing for her to feel guilty about – that she had done nothing wrong – the very fact that she couldn’t bring herself to be entirely truthful with Giles shocked her more than she could say. Perhaps she should have foreseen his return. Perhaps she should have rehearsed how best to tell him the truth. Perhaps she had not fully considered how her behaviour over the past two months might seem. However, as soon as she had told him this half truth she also realised that there could be no going back. She could only pray to God that he should be merciful to her and help her to be less drawn to Mr Berkeley in the future than she had been up to now. In any event her somewhat sketchy explanation appeared to satisfy her husband for now. He had no real interest in Kathryn’s friends anyway, and in another moment he was talking to her again, telling her some tale about an overturning stage coach, and how he had been the only gentleman at all capable of assisting the coachman to right it and get it on its way again.

  The evening slipped by easily enough. Sally brought them some supper. Giles drank copious amounts of ale. Kathryn started to breathe a little more easily again although she was ever wary. She knew from past experience that he was perfectly capable of turning on her in an instant and any conversation with him would ever feel like walking on eggs. So she was more than pleased to hear the grandfather clock striking ten, hopeful that she could reasonably escape him now.

  ‘I shall retire now, I think, Giles,’ she said, standing up to leave. Her husband looked her up and down a little leerily. ‘It has been a very long day.’

  ‘You do that, my pretty one. And I shall undress you,’ he said.

  The next morning Giles awoke early, stretched luxuriously, and kissed Kathryn on the cheek. Kathryn, indeed, had lain awake for hours but was pretending still to be asleep. Giles, however, was not one to observe the niceties of life. He wanted her awake, so awakened she should be. He shook her until she knew that she could pretend no more. So she had to roll over towards him, open her eyes, and give him a shy little smile.

  ‘Let us go out together for the day, Kitty,’ he said. ‘I have missed you so much. I want to keep you all to myself for now.’

  Kathryn had planned to visit Aunt Shepherd that day but she thought it politic to comply with her husband’s suggestion.

  ‘I should enjoy that, Giles,’ she said. ‘Where do you plan for us to go?’

  ‘We shall visit the waterfall at Osmington Mills. It’s some while since we went there. It should be in full flow at this time of year.’

  Osmington was a village about three miles along the coast – a pretty little hamlet of a few fishermen’s cottages and a small thatched inn called the Osmington ‘Crown’ but universally known to the locals as ‘The Smugglers’ – and for very good reason. Kathryn had always enjoyed a walk there. The coastline thereabouts had much to recommend it, with tree clad valleys providing a charming contrast to the wildness of the cliffs, their craggy slopes sitting proudly above the sea. With a hazy sun promising fine weather for a change it should make for a delightful day out.

  Leaving Bob in Sally’s capable care, Kathryn set out with her husband after breakfast and took the rough hilltop path from Sandsford along the coast. Skylarks, rising from the ground, were filling the Spring air with joyous, tumultuous songs. Occasional flowering bushes rewarded the walkers with their scent, with bees buzzing noisily from one to the next and buzzards calling to one another as they circled high into the sky. Giles took her hand as they walked. He chatted quite happily about some of the odd people he had encountered on the journeys to and from London. When he was like this Kathryn could almost remember what it was that had attracted her to him so much in the first place. He had seemed handsome, charming, willing to please. His dark eyes, which had followed her wherever she went that first Christmas, had promised danger and excitement – a magnetism so very different from the plebeian mundanity of George that he had simply swept her off her feet. She could almost remember the sensations of that time – the feeling of being attractive, of being desired, of being important to a glamorous, sought-after gentleman for the very first time, a gentleman whom all the other young ladies were talking about, and the gratification of being the one above all others that he had instantly preferred. She could almost remember those feelings. Almost – but not quite. Because for ever lurking in her mind now were two uncomfortable truths. The first was that she could never feel perfectly secure with him ever again. The second was that her heart had now been totally and irrevocably taken over by someone other than him.

  They reached the waterfall by mid-day and stood together to watch it for a moment. It marked the conclusion of a small stream which originated in the hillside above the village and plunged down in a narrow course from a rocky ledge onto the bouldered seashore many feet below. Kathryn had always been mesmerised by the sound of falling water. She would have welcomed the opportunity of standing quietly there with her husband for a while, trying to regain her feelings for him, trying to reconcile herself to him once again. But Giles was a man of action, not of thought. He was not one to stand about, watching waterfalls. Almost as soon as they had reached it he wanted to be off again, clambering down the rocks, hunting for fossils. So she sighed softly to herself and allowed him to drag her down to the water’s edge, and join him in sifting through the pebbles on the beach. She scrabbled about without much enthusiasm for a few minutes and then became conscious that his eyes were resting upon her. She turned to look at him.

  ‘Is anything amiss, Giles?’ she asked him, a little nervously.

  ‘You’re a damned attractive wench, Kitty,’ he replied, a little thickly. ‘The way you bend over those pebbles...Come here to me for a minute.’

  Kathryn was a little reluctant to obey. She recognised his look.

  ‘Don’t be foolish, Giles,’ she said, attempting to laugh him off. ‘Somebody might see.’

  ‘Since when has it been foolish to admire your own wife? Come over here. I want to kiss you.’

  She was very loath to comply. After all, although it seemed quite quiet, they were still on an open beach. There was no telling when anyone might suddenly appear. And yet she knew that her husband would have no hesitation in forcing himself upon her wherever – and whenever - he chose. So she looked about her quickly. The rocks to her left were quite large. They would hide two people quite effectively in case anyone should chance to come by.

  ‘Let us go over there, then, Giles,’ she said, and took him by
the hand. Giles grinned complacently and allowed her to lead him to the most secret space within the rocks. The morning sun had warmed them gently. He stripped off his coat and threw it down in a heap. Then he took her in his arms and forced her to the ground. Kathryn knew that she mustn’t struggle, mustn’t show any reluctance to love him. So she submitted to his demands quite meekly, acutely embarrassed, praying fervently that nobody should discover them, and wishing upon wish that her husband should soon be done.

  It was just as they left their sanctuary that Giles spotted an old acquaintance making his way towards them from the clifftop.

  ‘Hey – Cutlass,’ he shouted, wiping his lips with his coat sleeve and rearranging his breeches ostentatiously. ‘Hey, come over here. You’ll see I’m back from Town at last. And here is Kathryn, giving me pleasure on our walk.’

  Kathryn could feel a flush of mortification and annoyance spread across her face. She bobbed a curtsy in Cutlass’ direction before turning her back on them both and staring out to sea. Cutlass joined her husband and slapped him on the back. Kathryn wandered further away. She didn’t wish to meet the weasly little man, whom she disliked intensely, and neither did she have any wish to know what business he was engaged in with her husband. So she wandered down to the water’s edge and sat herself down on a rock. She sat there, trying not to think of anything, for quite some time. She tried not to think, but uncomfortable thoughts insisted on imposing on her consciousness whether she wanted them there or not. So this was what her life was to be like from now on – insecurity, anxiety, with moments of violence, subjection to her husband’s every whim, embarrassment in front of his friends. It was not a happy prospect. It was not happy at all, and it was even worse when compared to what she had so quickly become accustomed to with Andrew. Andrew. Charming, fun, thoughtful, generous to a fault, laughing, loving, and deeply, deeply respectful. Infuriating thoughts. They insisted on coming at her unbidden. They were ill conceived and totally unwelcome. She frowned, angry and uncomfortable, and got up quickly to see where Giles and Cutlass had got to. But they were nowhere to be seen. She looked again. No-one. The beach – or what she could see of it – was deserted. Cautiously she stepped across the boulders towards the place where she had last seen them, listening out for the sound of their voices. But there was nothing. No-one to see, no-one to hear. She wondered whether they had climbed up towards the ‘Smugglers’. It was a distinct possibility, entirely true to character. It was also extremely annoying. She had already been forced into one embarrassment that morning. She didn’t really want the further embarrassment of having to seek out her husband in a public house. Muttering a little to herself under her breath she took up her skirts and clambered up the rocky edge, hauling herself with some difficulty onto the steeply sloping grasslands above. The inn was a short way along from here. She caught her breath for a moment and made her way towards it. It was lunch time and surprisingly busy but luckily she soon spotted Giles and Cutlass through a window, apparently in company with a group of other men. Kathryn stood outside for a minute. She was not at all inclined to seek him out in there. So she knocked on the window, gained his attention, was rewarded by an angry frown and a flicking of the hand, and then her husband turned away.

  Feeling ill-used and resentful, Kathryn decided to walk back home on her own.

  Chapter 9

  Kathryn had returned home in some trepidation that afternoon but in fact she needn’t have worried. Giles didn’t reappear that day and, indeed, had still not returned when she went to bed that night. Much as she would have liked to, she didn’t dare to lock the door that connected her room with her husband’s and she was half afraid that he would come home, drunk, in the middle of the night and start making demands on her again. But despite lying awake, worrying, imagining every minute that she would hear the front door open and Giles stomp noisily inside, Sandsford House remained perfectly silent and still. Even the world outside seemed to sleep.

  She arose quite early the next morning and ate her breakfast even before Sally was down. She had determined on walking over to see her aunt and wanted to set out before Giles might get back and attempt to divert her. So she hurried through her meal and left Sally a note before slipping into her chamber for a cloak and stepping briskly out into the world.

  Although the day was a grey one the sea air was fresh and cold. Invigorated, Kathryn found her steps becoming lighter the further from Sandsford she walked. The sea never failed to have a healing effect on her. She paused for a few minutes and gazed out across the greyness. What was the world like across the waters? Was life any easier there, than here?

  She set out again and reached the Esplanade by a half after eight. In spite of the early hour the craftsmen were already hard at work building more of the elegant terraces that were steadily drawing Weymouth out along the bay. One or two of them stopped to admire her as she tripped on by – a slight, pretty, youthful figure in a pale muslin dress. She was the only person around at this end of the sea front although as she passed the bathing machines she could see that some of these were already in use, the horses being put into their traces in order to push the occupants out a modest distance into the water. A mangy-looking cur was sniffing interestedly at a dead fish on the pebbles. He eyed Kathryn suspiciously for a moment when he spotted her and then took it up in his mouth and trotted off with it somewhat guiltily around the corner. As she passed one of the lodging houses a door suddenly opened and an elderly gentleman in an old fashioned dressing gown and cap stepped out on his way towards the beach. He nodded to her unabashed. Kathryn had to smile. She found him quite incongruous.

  Kathryn crossed the road and made her way to her aunt’s apartment. The building smelled particularly bad this morning and she turned up her nose as she mounted the stairs. She tapped on the door and stepped inside. Aunt Shepherd was not yet sitting at her usual place near the window. Kathryn briefly wondered whether she was simply taking a leisurely start to the day but when she went over to the mattress on which her aunt spent her nights she could see immediately that it was incapacity, not sloth, that was preventing her from rising. Kathryn caught her breath and knelt down beside her. The old lady was breathing, heavily but with some difficulty, and her forehead was beaded with sweat. Kathryn felt for her hand underneath the rough covers, and took it into hers. The old lady’s eyes didn’t open, although a very faint smile came instantly to her face.

  ‘It is me – Kathryn, Aunt Shepherd,’ she said, her voice breaking a little. ‘I can see you are not well. Would you like me to go for a doctor for you?’

  The old lady shook her head weakly. Kathryn didn’t quite know what to do. She stayed on her knees at the old lady’s side for a few minutes until she began to feel a little uncomfortable. She looked down at the creased old face. It did not look in pain. Just weak. Just very, very weak.

  ‘Would you like some breakfast?’

  The old lady opened her eyes.

  ‘Just some tea, my love,’ she whispered. ‘Just some tea.’

  Kathryn squeezed her hand a little before tucking it back under the cover and going over to the fireplace. The fire had gone out long since, by the look of it, and there was no water in the pail.

  ‘I shall have to go for the water, aunt. I shall be back as soon as I can.’

  Kathryn took the pail and went out into the now awakening streets. The town pump was a ten minute walk away on the other side of town. She didn’t at all relish the thought of struggling back with the heavy pail but she wasn’t quite sure where else she could get some. So off she went, her spirits low, hoping against hope that her aunt would soon feel better again.

  Her next mission was to re-start the fire. This was less of a problem as she was able to beg some embers from the pastry house over the road. She shielded them carefully as she mounted the stairs once again. There was very little wood by the grate but there was sufficient just for now. Before going home she would need to buy some more from the timber yard along the quay.

 
Finally the tea was made and Kathryn took a dish full over to the mattress. She put it on the floor and helped her aunt into a sitting position, stuffing the cushion from the one chair behind her to support her back a little. Even the minimal effort required to effect this was as much as the old lady could manage and she burst into a fit of coughing before she was able to sip her tea. But at least the steaming liquid revived her a little and brought a hint of colour to her otherwise grey cheeks. She smiled at her niece a little wanly.

  ‘I am so sorry to be a nuisance to you, Kathryn,’ she said.

  Although she did not want them to, Kathryn found that tears were welling up and she had to turn away. But she was not quick enough for her aunt.

  ‘Please do not be upset, my love,’ whispered the old lady. ‘I think it God’s will that my time will soon come. It doesn’t worry me at all. He will look after me. I only worry for you.’

  This was more than Kathryn could bear. She threw her arms round the old lady’s chest and wept heartily. Her breath came in jerky little spasms. She could see that her oldest supporter would soon be going the way of all the others and leave her quite alone.

  ‘Has Giles come back?’ asked Aunt Shepherd.

  ‘Yes. He is back.’

  ‘I thought so. You have already lost your bloom. Look to yourself, and to little Bob, Kathryn. You must look after yourselves.’

  Kathryn blinked back the tears, her lower lip still trembling, and nodded slightly.

  ‘I am so, so sorry that everything has come to this.’

  Her aunt smiled wanly and gave her the dish. She had only managed a few sips but they appeared to have done some good and she managed to wriggle herself back down under the covers without the aid of her niece. Kathryn sat on the floor by her side. There was sewing to do, and a little bit – not much – completed. She had little enough heart to do any of it just now but she knew that it was important to keep up with it just in case a miracle happened and her aunt recovered for a while. The old lady appeared to have drifted off to sleep again so Kathryn decided to slip out to fetch the firewood while she had the chance, and to return to do the sewing later on.