Stranger at the beach house (8 page)

Chapter 6

My sleep was broken and tormented
and I woke early. Wrapping myself in Alice’s blanket with a warm mug of tea, I
made my way outside, curling up on the porch swing to watch the dawn break over
the sea. Alice had done this a lot when I was younger, often in moments of grief.
She said that watching the sun rise, signalling the start of a new day could
help to put everything into perspective.

The vast ocean stretched up to
the horizon like a huge mirror, twinkling in the early morning light and the
soft rhythmic
lapping
of the waves was the only sound
breaking through the deafening silence. For a while it stilled my thoughts.

I loved it here and could have
happily stayed cocooned in the blanket that smelled of Alice, but Dart had
other plans, alternating between licking, jumping and whimpering until
reluctantly I grabbed his ball and headed out along the beach towards the
cliffs. There were no signs of life but I couldn’t risk heading towards the
promenade, just in case. I was still in my pyjamas.

I checked for a car when I eventually
walked back to the house but there was still no indication that Sam had
returned and I was starting to worry. I considered calling Harry to see if he
knew where he was, if he had heard from him. No, that would require a whole
load of explanations. I would just have to wait. Jumping into the shower to rid
myself of the morning chill, I relished the heat of the water radiating through
my skin. Where the
hell
was he? I
dressed quickly, pulling my hair into a long ponytail and steeled myself to
read the last few letters.

 
These were postmarked from America and
originally addressed to the place I presumed had been my mother’s boarding
house. That address had been crossed out and forwarded here by the same fluid
handwriting.

My Darling Grace

I spent my last days
in England at the stage door hoping to see you, though they told me you had
gone. I waited day and night outside your house praying for your return. I
don’t know where you are my love and I am lost. I have come to Harvard as I
think it must be what you want. My only hope is that you will receive my
letters and understand that I will do whatever it takes to be with you, even
this. I would happily suffer this absent longing just to know that you are
waiting for me. In the long nights I sometimes wonder if you did not love me as
I love you, but I have to believe you did, that you still do. That glimmer of
hope is the only thing that keeps my shattered heart beating at all.

Yours eternally

William

His hurt was palpable and tears
washed down my face as the realisation of their tragic courtship hit me. I knew
my mother had loved William as much as he loved her as I read the letters, but
he had been alone, lost and without answers when he had written them. He must
have been so lonely, so confused but he refused to give up. He had waited for
her in London as she returned home, pregnant with me and gone through with his
parents plan in the hope that this might keep her. My heart went out to him in
a way it had never done before and I was determined that one day he would know
his feelings had not been in vain.

My Darling Grace

I would exchange a
lifetime of the pain I feel now just to hold you for one more wonderful moment
in my arms. Not hearing from you is more than I can bear. I once read that love
isn’t there to make us happy, but exists to show us what we can endure. Please
don’t let this be true.

Yours eternally

William

I wished my mother had replied.
Let him know that she loved him. It was hard to read the desperation in his
words and I could only imagine the agonising torment he had endured. As I
reached for the next, my face was wet with tears. He had conveyed the depth of
his feeling in one simple sentence;

My Love

I am yours forever, I
will wait forever and I will love you forever.

Your
William

I wasn’t sure I could read the
last one, the final instalment in a tragic affair that had captured and broken
my heart, turning my preconceptions of my father on their head. He had
professed his love and loss so intimately through his letters. His love for my
mother was real and certain, and I knew instinctively that he was a very
special man. I felt blessed, grateful to Alice and Sam for sharing them and
giving me the opportunity to understand him better. I wondered if he had known
she’d died. The thought of a young William pouring out his broken hearted grief
was unthinkable. The envelope was unwritten and smaller than the rest and as I
unfolded the paper my heart stopped.

My Darling William

I feel the pain in
your letters so deeply that my heart breaks a little more with each one. I am
so sorry for causing you this hurt and I hope that you will come to understand
my reasons. I convinced myself that leaving was the best thing for you, for our
love. I could not bear the pain of watching you walk away from your family,
your future and the education you have worked so hard for. I would not let you
give everything up for me, my love. Your family would never have accepted me
that way and I feared in time that you would come to resent me and I would lose
you all over again. I hope that if you follow their path and they see how
deeply our love has grown, that eventually they may give us their blessing.
This way you can keep everything you love, everything you deserve.

When your mother came
to see me, she convinced me I wasn’t good enough for you and I believed her,
William. She told me you would grow bored of me and I feared she may be right.
I had to come home because I knew then that I was pregnant and was terrified
that if I saw or spoke to you, my resolve would weaken and this difficult start
would blight our path forever. Oh my darling I am so sorry, I should have
trusted you to decide what is best for you and I took that choice away.

The thought of you
feeling abandoned and alone is eating away at my soul and I cannot bear it for
another second. It is not true. I love and miss you with all my heart and would
wait for eternity to be in your arms again if you will still have me. In the
meantime, I will spend every day holding and treasuring our perfect daughter.
She is every wonderful part of you and more. In my confusion and sadness I have
left her too, but cannot bear the separation. She brightens every moment of my
waking day and through her I feel closer to you. Please, please forgive me my
darling. I hope that one day you will come back to us and I just pray with all
my heart that I haven’t left it too long.

I am enclosing a
photograph. She is truly beautiful and I have called her Rose. I think you will
know why. She has your eyes.

I am yours forever, I
will wait forever and I will love you forever.

Grace

She had never got had the chance
to post it. William needed to see this letter, he had to see it. I placed it
carefully back in the envelope with the proud picture of my beautiful mother
holding me in her arms, wiping away my silent tears for their lost past and
determined to do what I could to put things right.

The phone was buzzing as I made my way into the kitchen for
coffee.

Can’t wait for our girly night out tonight.
Dad
said he’ll run us into town so I’ll pick you up at 8.00.
Any
news on Sam?

I was really looking forward to
tonight. A few too many drinks and a giggle with Joy
was
long overdue and I needed to let my hair down. The letters had been such a
revelation and I had no idea where to start looking for my father. I needed
someone to talk to about it. I would enlist the help of Lizzie and Dave on this
one and they were coming at the weekend. Harry was right, sometimes it could be
lonely being so isolated and I hadn’t seen another soul in two days. I was
missing Sam, but the flutter in my stomach when I thought of him reinforced the
fact that it was more than just his neighbourly company I was craving.

I hit reply.

So excited.
This
town is not going to know what’s hit it! I will be ready at 8.00. Sam is still
AWOL.

I needed to eat. A night out on
the town with Joy was not an expedition for the faint hearted and definitely
not one to be undertaken on an empty stomach unless I wanted to be home by ten,
which I most certainly did not. Deciding that
carbs
would be my best line of defence, I popped a jacket potato in the oven and made
my way to the bedroom to sort out my outfit. This could be a long job I laughed
to
myself,
it had been a while since I’d been out on
the town.

 
Two hours later, with a dozen dresses strewn
in various locations across the room I still hadn’t decided. This was
ridiculous I mused, tucking into my tuna stuffed jacket potato in a bid to
prepare my stomach for tonight’s onslaught. Which one would it be?
Black, red, pink, mini, midi, maxi?
Hell I was in my
twenties, OK only just, but I could wear whatever I wanted. I clearly had way
too much time on my hands. I seriously needed to think about getting another
job.

I hung all the dresses back in my
wardrobe bar two, my favourite black midi and one I had nicknamed the ‘naked’
dress on account of its light pink flesh colour that clung to my every curve.
I’d bought it with my redundancy money at a flash boutique in London, but had
never had a chance to wear it. It was my ‘seriously out to impress’ dress and
it wouldn’t get an airing tonight. ‘Back in the closet Cinderella’ I laughed,
returning it to its hanger, pulling out my highest heels that sparkled with
crystals to compliment the black midi.

I wasn’t sure what passed for
fashion in this small Northern town on a dull Thursday night in October,
suspecting that I may be going over the top. No, I decided, ‘you can’t go wrong
with black, even if it’s grunge
night’
 
laughing
at the prospect.
 

Chapter 7

After what seemed like an age of
shaving, plucking, buffing and moisturising I was finally ready. I went for
smoky eyes and glossed lips and managed to wrestle my hair into a cascade of
soft curls. It was the best I had looked and felt in a long time and as Joy’s fathers
truck pulled into the driveway, I gulped the remains of my ‘warming up’ wine,
locked the house and dashed outside.

“You look amazing,” beamed Joy
from the window.

“It’s good to see you, Rose,
how’ve you been” said her father as I slid in alongside Joy. “Good thanks.
How’s Mrs Carpenter?” I smiled. “Jealous she’s not hitting the town with you
two tonight, but otherwise she’s good. I expect you to keep Joy out of trouble,
Rose” he smiled knowingly at me as Joy pouted, unable to hold her exasperation.

“I’m twenty bloody nine, Dad, not
seventeen,” she huffed and I giggled.

This was a like a trip down
memory lane and I was half expecting him to issue the eleven o’clock curfew
like he had when we were teenagers taking this exact same journey.

“Cocktails,” chirped Joy as we
hit the bar. “I expect to be having more than a couple of these tonight and I
don’t expect to be buying them all myself,” she laughed, ordering the drinks
and I knew she wasn’t referring to me not buying a round. Joy was on a mission.
Filling her in on the letters I had read, she couldn’t believe the story of my
father.

“I wonder if my mother knew,” she
said after taking it all in. “I’ll ask her, Rose. She might be able to shed
some light, give a few more details. I know your mother kept that all very
close to her chest, but they were best friends, she must have told her
something.”

I had never thought about that
possibility before, maybe my mother’s best friend could offer some more
insight. A second name would be a start. “And where’s the God, still no word?”
Joy smiled.

“No,” I sighed, knowing that this
was a subject I needed to steer clear of tonight if I wanted to avoid crying
into a kebab on the floor of a taxi when the alcohol had stolen my sense and
reason, which at this rate it inevitably would.

The time passed in a blur of
cocktails and giggling at Joy’s hilarious assessments of the potential romantic
contenders, and by the time we hit the club at ten I felt elated. “It’s usually
packed in here on a Thursday because of the cheap drinks,” laughed Joy, linking
my arm as we made our way to the bar, “and there’ll be loads of people from
school you remember”.

“Ladies, can I get you a drink?”
called a familiar voice as a tall blond man with deep chocolate brown eyes
strode across the bar to greet us.

“Bloody hell, Joshua Reynolds,” I
smiled hugging my old school friend.

“How long has it been, Rose?” he
asked, smiling broadly.

“About twelve years,” I laughed
as he turned to plant a kiss on Joy’s cheek. “Joy,” he said simply, his eyes
lingering on my friend.

“Two champagne cocktails and a
pint of lager please,” he shouted to the barman, Joy shooting me a look
signalling she didn’t want to be stood with Joshua Reynolds all night.

 
“What’s the story?” I whispered as he turned
his back.

“Drink these quickly and I’ll
fill you in,” she shouted into my ear a little too loudly as he turned, handing
us the drinks and grinning at Joy. My ear was still buzzing.

“So how long are you back for,
Rose?” he asked. Between the buzzing and the music I could barely hear him.

 
“Back for good,” I smiled eventually after
he’d repeated his question three times, as two friends of his I didn’t
recognise sauntered over to join us.

I followed Joy’s lead as she
gulped the cocktail, putting the empty glass back on the bar. “Ladies,” she
gestured, walking off.

“Good to see you, Joshua. Thanks
for the drink,” I smiled, before dashing after her. As I took in the
surroundings I laughed to myself. The decor may have changed but the situation
hadn’t, and a decade after it had first begun Joy and I were stood in the
ladies toilet of ‘The Beat Box’ discussing boys. Some things never change.

 
“What’s going on there, Joy, he seems to
really like you and he’s cute,” I offered.

“I know,” she said, rolling her
eyes. “He does and he is, but he’s also
very
taken. He
told me he was single and I spent the night with him a couple of months back.
He’d fed me a load of crap about splitting up with this girlfriend to get me in
the sack, and in the morning he was panicking like crazy, admitted they were
still together and begged me not to tell her,” she said and it was my turn to
roll my eyes.

 
“What a prick. Is he one of your mystery taxi
guys?” I asked, recalling our conversation over the farmhouse table.

“Yes and he’s been trying for a
return fare ever since he realised I wasn’t going to rat him out. You know how
it is in this town, Rose. You definitely don’t want to get a reputation for
being the other woman so I’m in no rush to confess,” she smiled.

I didn’t blame her, gossip and
rumour could be incredibly destructive and I knew people in the past that had
been practically run out of town for less. “Don’t be fooled. We may have an
internet cafe with high speed broadband now, Rose, but half the folk here would
have me in the stocks for what I’ve done,” she laughed.

 
“I can’t believe it, Joy, the very same Joshua
Reynolds who fainted in biology. I would never have thought he had it in him,”
I laughed.

“I know, but it’s fair to say
he’s no longer afraid of the female anatomy,” she smiled, shaking her head.

 
We touched up our make-up and were still
giggling as we made our way back into the club and a Joshua Reynolds free area
of the bar, ordering two more champagne cocktails. It was great to be out with
Joy, like old times, and before long a stream of familiar faces from my past
had come to say ‘Hello’, find out how I was and fill me in on the events of
their lives over the last decade. “I love this song, let’s dance,” I squealed,
grabbing Joy and needing a break from the alcohol that was turning my head
woozy and light. Stumbling slightly onto the dance floor I feared that I may
already have left it too late.

We danced for what seemed like an
eternity, one favourite song merging into another as we
strutted
our unsteady, alcohol fuelled moves. Occasionally I noticed Joshua Reynolds
eyeing Joy speculatively from the across the room and felt like gesturing a one
fingered salute, but for the most part I felt happy and free from the emotions
of the last two days.

“One for the road?”
Joy motioned just after 1am and I
nodded, thirsty from my exertions on the dance floor. I propped myself up on
the bar ordering two more cocktails and ignoring the continual glances of a
shaven headed youth who was mentally assessing his chances. “I’ve missed this,”
Joy hugged me, taking her glass from my hand and squeezing me tightly, losing
half of her drink down the back of my dress. “We need to do it again soon,” she
beamed.

“Definitely,” I hollered above
the music. “Lizzie and Dave are up at the weekend, I’ll see if they want to
come out,” I shouted, partly because of the pulsing beat that was echoing in my
ears, and partly because the alcohol had mysteriously adjusted my volume
switch. It was inexplicable, but it always happened.

“Is Harry coming up soon?” she
quizzed pulling an innocent face that I recognised from experience to mean the
complete opposite of what she intended.

“Harry?” I stared at her raising
my eyebrows “Really Joy?” I asked surprised, I hadn’t seen this one coming.
They had been friends through me since we were kids and I had never picked up
on any romantic interest from Joy.

Harry had followed her around
like a puppy dog when we were young and took every opportunity a ten year old
can to pick a fight with Jon. I hadn’t realised the attraction was mutual. “
Mmmm
yes,” she nodded enthusiastically.

 
“I’ll let you know,” I nudged her, laughing as
we finished our drinks and made our way out into the cold night for a taxi
home.

We were still singing a terrible
rendition of Britney as the cab pulled up the drive and I stumbled getting out,
almost falling as my heels caught in the gravel. “Be careful,” Joy slurred,
pointing her finger and laughing. “And don’t forget to let me know about
Harry,” she winked, giggling as I shut the car door and fumbled in my bag for a
key.

After dropping them several
times, I somehow managed to unlock the door. The house was in complete darkness
and staggering slightly from the porch into the room, I noticed that the fire
was blazing. Steadying myself against the frame I looked up slowly to see a
familiar figure lounging casually in the fireside chair, his stunning features
illuminated by the orange glow, pinning me to the spot as he raked his gaze
slowly over me from top to toe, his expression bemused.

“Sam” I gasped quietly. “What are
you doing here?” and a puzzled look crossed his face as he rose, striding
towards me and pulling a piece paper from the pocket of his faded jeans which
were hanging dangerously low on those gorgeous hips.

“I got your note, Rose. It said
come as soon as you get back,” he said firmly.
 
I looked up to meet his gaze and I was smiling but his mouth was set and
he didn’t smile back.
Shit.
Was he
still mad about Daniel?

 
“I’m sorry, Sam,” my slurring words coming all
too quickly. “I didn’t know Daniel was coming, I let him stay but only because
he pleaded that he couldn’t drive home, he slept on the chair. I didn’t sleep
with him, Sam, honestly. I need you to know that. I don’t want Daniel Bowman”.

He leaned in, his blue eyes black
and his gaze hooded. “I know, Rose” he whispered, my body igniting under his
touch as he slid his hand firmly around my waist and I drank in the musky scent
I had missed so much. “Come on,” he said guiding me to the chair by the fire.
“Sit”. I was craving his closeness, his touch, his kiss as he walked away,
returning moments later with some
paracetamol
and a
glass of water. “Take these and drink this,” he said, pulling his chair
directly opposite mine. I did as I was told and he took the glass back from my
unsteady hands.

“Where have you been?” I asked
eventually, hoping that I would get more than the usual fob off.

“Something came up,” he replied,
lifting his eyes to mine as he took my legs, pulling them onto his lap, slowly
removing my shoes and massaging my feet that were tired from dancing. It was
heavenly but he wasn’t going to distract me that easily.

 
“What came up?” I continued, emboldened by the
alcohol to get some answers.

 
“I had meetings with my lawyers,” he gazed at me,
kneading his fingers into my aching soles. Ah, we were getting somewhere.

 
“About what?”
I asked
and a small smile tickled the side of his mouth as his hands moved up my legs
gently stroking my calves.

 
“I like this dress,” he purred smoothly and my
breath hitched. His touch was delicious but I wasn’t about to be deterred.

“About what?”
I asked again.

“Stuff,” he said gently, moving
his hands to stroke my thighs. Oh my God, his fingers felt amazing. “Why,
Rose?” he whispered, the reflection of the fire twinkling in his burning gaze,
“did you miss me?” he smiled.

 
“Yes, Sam,” I mumbled, my eyes closing as I
revelled in his touch and dozed, relaxed into an alcohol fuelled slumber
muttering something about kisses and longing and huge white beds.