Gull Island (40 page)

When she returned to the school shop later that evening, Rosita rang Luke to tell him what had happened. He listened to the news of Hattie’s death with dismay but sighed with relief on hearing that because of it, Rosita and Barbara had met and talked at long last. He asked repeatedly what he could do to help and if Barbara needed anything.

As they were about to ring off, Luke said, ‘It’s strange, but I was about to phone you. It’s about next Sunday. The visit to the cottage for you and Richard to meet Martine is off, of course. I was going to suggest you come anyway, but now, with this tragedy …’ 

‘Oh, I’m sorry about Martine, Luke,’ she said, then added, ‘but I don’t understand. Last week was when I was invited to meet you, and just me, not Richard. That’s why I was on the island, remember?’ She laughed. ‘Getting very forgetful, aren’t you?’

‘But I definitely invited both of you, and to the cottage, not to the island. In this weather? And it was the seventeenth I said, not the tenth.’

‘Luke, I don’t understand. Your letter had been opened by mistake, by Idris, but there was none of it missing. It was just the single page. How could I have made a mistake?’

‘Then the letter you received wasn’t the one I wrote. It was almost three pages for a start. You know how I chatter on. And my writing is such a scrawl.’

‘What does it mean?’

‘I don’t know, but I think Idris might be able to enlighten us, don’t you?’

Luke replaced the phone and immediately rang Richard. They met half an hour later although it was late. When Luke had explained the
differences
in the two letters, they went back to the house in Walpole Street and without waking Kate, they managed to rouse Idris. He was asleep on the couch, still not allowed back in Kate’s bed, although she looked after him in every other way. He grinned ruefully, gesturing to the couch as he found himself a chair.

Without preamble, Richard demanded an explanation.

‘If you want the truth then you can have it, but you won’t like it, mind,’ he said truculently. ‘You won’t like it at all, brother dear.’

‘Did you rewrite my letter and change the date?’ Luke asked. ‘If so, it puts a different light on Rosita’s story that you were trying to push her over the edge.’

‘Rubbish, man! She made it all up. It was she who persuaded me to meet
her
. Daft about me she is and even my being married to her half-sister didn’t worry her.’

Richard rose threateningly. ‘Now you’re talking rubbish.’

‘She’s always felt attracted to me,’ Idris continued with a confident smile. ‘You don’t think all those visits to Station Row to fix a bit of cracking plaster were genuine, do you? Be fair. When I fixed a piece of plaster it stays fixed. Calling me back time after time and always at lunchtime, mind, when the shop was closed. Well, you know what some women are for a bit of illicit sex.’

Richard stood up and this time he hit Idris so he fell backwards, sliding on the upturned chair until it stopped against the far wall. Silently, Luke handed Idris a handkerchief to hold against his nose.

‘Told you you wouldn’t like it, didn’t I?’ Idris said thickly. ‘You’ve never
been exciting enough for a woman, Richard. I had the charm ration for both of us, haven’t you noticed?’ He went to the bathroom to wash his face and stem the blood seeping into the handkerchief.

Silently, Richard and Luke left.

Idris looked into the bathroom mirror and smiled. His foolish fantasy of murdering Rosita was just that, a foolish fantasy – he’d never have the nerve to harm anyone. But it had been fun. He could never have pushed Rosita to that terrible death. It was just his imagination giving him ideas he could never fulfil. He had enjoyed the teasing, though, it had made him feel strong and powerful, watching her frightened face. Besides, by stirring things a bit he might still prevent or at least delay the marriage that would deprive him of Richard’s wealth.

If Richard didn’t marry, he’d have to leave his money to someone. With the rest of their brothers spread far and wide with little contact with the family, his girls would benefit one day, even if he didn’t. All he had to do was prevent Richard from marrying Rosita. He smiled again at his
reflection
. That mightn’t be too difficult.

It made him feel quite a lad, arranging for a fortune to come to his girls. What a great father he was.

Rosita was surprised at how well she and her mother got on. Instead of the ogre she had invented to ease her misery, she found Barbara to be as gentle and kindly as Kate and a very long way from the sister who had so
tragically
died. The new baby helped, it was something to share; the visits to the hospital to see him, admire him and consider him more beautiful than the others in the row of identical bundles in the identical cots.

Kate grieved with them yet held back from tears, remembering how her sister had ruined her marriage. The day before the funeral, she met her husband at his mother’s and tried to persuade him to admit the truth about Richard.

He laughed and said, ‘What’s so wonderful about the truth? There’s plenty who’d be happier without it. I know Rosita wanted me and I told Richard. That’s the truth and he definitely didn’t want to hear it. Best I keep silent on the rest.’

‘Truth? That isn’t the truth!’ Kate scolded. ‘Rosita has always loved Richard.’

‘You have to admit it’s taken him a hell of a long time to do anything about it. No wonder she was tired of waiting. Thirty-odd years, for heaven’s sake. Hardly an irresistible passion, is it?’

Barbara and her two daughters went together to arrange the funeral and, each day, they went to see the baby, who had remained in hospital being cared for by the nurses.

Unknown to Rosita, Richard also found time in his day to call and see baby David. He would stand for a long time and stare, marvelling at the perfection of the tiny child.

On the day of the funeral, the Careys’ door was propped open to allow anyone who wished to call in. The first visitor was Luke. He and Barbara hugged each other and shed a few tears like the friends they were.

‘Are you and Rosita friends again?’ he whispered. Barbara nodded. ‘At least something good has come out of this excruciating pain. A child is
irreplaceable
and it’s ironic that it took the loss of one to regain another.’

She looked at him with her dreamy and beautiful eyes and said softly, ‘Oh, Luke. Stay with me and help me through this.’

‘I will, my dear. I promise.’

Rosita found she was unable to miss a day without going to see the tiny person that was called David Prothero. After a few days she was allowed to hold him. He seemed to fit into her arms as if made for that special place. She began to think very seriously about his future.

Hattie’s funeral was a small one, with only the family and a few
neighbours
returning to the house, where Mrs Carey had prepared food. Afterwards, Rosita and Kate sat close to their mother, together in their grief, comforting her, making her feel less alone. Then Rosita and Richard went out to walk along the sands of the deserted Pleasure Beach, leaving Barbara in the capable hands of Molly Carey.

It was raining and the shelters, usually filled with the colourful
extravagances
of summer, looked drab and fitting for the sadness of the day.

‘What are we going to do about Idris?’ Richard asked. ‘I don’t trust him. What if he tries something else to harm us?’

‘He’s all talk, too much of a coward to take chances. Don’t worry. Whatever he says, we’ll know better than to believe him. He lives in a dream world of high adventure but makes sure he holds on to the reality of Kate.’

‘Did your mother tell you there was £300 found among Hattie’s
possessions
?’ Richard asked quietly.

‘Three hundred? Where would she have got such a sum?’

‘Well, I could never prove it, but it was three hundred I suspected Idris of stealing. It doesn’t need much imagination to put the two together, does it? She was carrying his child and he didn’t want to admit it. The easiest way out was to pay her for her silence – with my money.’

They were both silent for the rest of their walk, Richard seething with anger against his brother and Rosita holding on to the thought that if Idris had paid Hattie all that money, then the child must have been his and not Richard’s.

Idris was fed up. Firstly there was the discomfort of sleeping night after night on the narrow couch in his own kitchen, where he and Hattie had spent so many illicit and happy hours. And besides that inconvenience, since Barbara had been staying with her, his mother had very little time for him.

When Kate had thrown him out and he had gone back to his mother, it had been like reverting to the later years of childhood, with plates of food being put before him at regular intervals and with his every wish not only granted but improved upon. Now, worse than the rest, he was frequently ignored.

Just like Dad treated me when I was a boy, he thought irritably. For Dad it was Richard and no one else. I was invisible to him. But Mam treated me like a young god and would now, if it weren’t for that Barbara Prothero butting in!

On Sunday afternoon, a week after Hattie’s funeral, Rosita was relaxing, reading the newest edition of the
Bookseller’s Review
, the magazine which kept her up to date with what was happening in the trade, when Richard called. She could see from his face that he had something important to discuss.

‘Come for a drive? I thought we’d go and see Luke,’ he said. ‘He’s sure to be at the cottage.’

When they reached there, Luke was wandering across the beach
gathering
firewood and for a while they helped him. Then, when they were sitting in his comfortable room, Richard brought up the subject he wanted to discuss.

‘I’m considering setting Idris up in a business of his own,’ he told them. ‘What d’you think? A sort of handyman. He’ll never make a fortune but he’s quite good at small building jobs and – let’s be honest – he does attract the ladies and it’s those who need the occasional plumber or carpenter. He could do quite well.’

‘He’d have to do a better job than he did on the plastering he did for me,’ Rosita said. Richard glanced at Luke and tightened his lips but said nothing.

‘It would be expensive,’ Luke warned. ‘He’ll need tools and a vehicle.’

‘I can afford it.’

It would keep him busy,’ Rosita mused, ‘and he’d like being his own boss. There’s a certain prestige in working for yourself, as I well know.’

‘There’ll be problems too. For a start, he wouldn’t get paid unless he worked.’

Richard thought about the plan for a while then he decided to make the announcement. He found Idris, Kate and Helen and Lynne in his mother’s house. Rosita was there too, sitting on the couch beside Barbara.

‘I’ve decided to do what we discussed,’ he said to Rosita and turning to his brother he went on, ‘I’m offering you a lump sum to buy tools and a van to start you in a business of your own. I can find you a few jobs at first, small things that need doing but which I don’t have the time or manpower to deal with. After that you’re on your own.’

Mrs Carey was delighted and went out into the kitchen at once to find the port left from Christmas. But Idris’s reaction was odd. He seemed surprised at Richard’s generosity after the disagreements and suspicions of the past months.

‘What’s in it for you?’ he asked ungraciously.

‘Peace of mind knowing you aren’t scrounging off Mam if you must know!’ Richard snapped. ‘I know she’s been giving you handouts these past weeks. Perhaps you should have kept that
£
300 instead of giving it to Hattie.’ He handed his brother a sheaf of papers. ‘The van is waiting for you with your name on the side. If you aren’t happy about it just let me know and I’ll have it painted out.’ He gestured for Rosita to follow him and they walked out, leaving Mrs Carey staring in pride and pleasure at Idris.

‘There’s lovely,’ they heard her say as they left. ‘You’ll be a proper
businessman
, working for yourself. Come on, then, let’s go and see your ol’ van with your name an’ all!’

‘I’ll be getting back home,’ Kate said. She and the girls left, while Idris fussed about, getting his mother to put on a coat before walking out to the kerb where Richard had parked the newly-painted van. He offered his arm; Molly Carey was getting very frail.

‘All right,’ she said, ‘don’t rush me. Just like a child with a new toy you are.’

Idris was pleased when he saw the van. Although old, it had been smartly painted in cream with his name, Idris Carey, and below it the legend, ‘Handyman’, in brown.

He tossed the keys and grinned at his mother. ‘Go on, get your handbag or whatever else you can’t travel without, and we’ll go for a spin.’

‘Lovely. Can we go over to the beach house, where we lived when you were small?’ she pleaded, and, after getting her a scarf and some warm boots, they set off.

‘Fancy the old green van being given a new lease of life,’ he said with a grin. ‘It won’t last long, mind, but it’ll do for a while, until I make my fortune and buy a brand new one twice the size of this old wreck.’

‘Now you be patient, Idris. Best to walk before you run, mind.’

From the town, he didn’t drive straight to their destination but first took his mother on a sightseeing trip. He knew she loved to see places where she and his father had spent their hard but happy youth. Out through country lanes, to the lonely but beautiful stone-built Merthyr Dyfan church where she and Henry had married, where she stopped to look and revive
memories
he didn’t share.

He drove on, between slowly greening hedges, where a large flock of goldfinches flew across their path.

‘A charm of goldfinches,’ she said. ‘They’ll soon be pairing up for the spring.’

‘Lucky sods,’ Idris muttered.

Leaving the narrow lanes, they headed towards the busy main road into Cardiff. He stopped once or twice for her to look at places she
remembered
, then suggested they went back towards the Pleasure Beach before going on to Gull Island. He enjoyed giving her this treat, reminding her he was her favourite, her golden boy.