Sea Gem (25 page)

Mary gave him a long, hard look. It flashed through her mind this could be Tante’s idea. During the last appalling week she had sensed something brewing in her head and that it concerned
her. As Tante had ruthlessly pushed her towards Duret, surely to God she did not now intend to push her and Victor together? Her lips set tight. Tante had manipulated her for the last time.

‘Whose idea is this?’ she asked coldly.

Victor was surprised at her tone. ‘Well, actually it’s mine but I did mention it to Grandmère and she thought it made sense. We would both benefit. I could push in your
direction the visitors I don’t really want without giving great offence. We could advertise ourselves as an hotel plus self-catering accommodation.’ He paused, puzzled by her reaction
which was openly hostile. ‘It’s a sound thought, Mary. Why don’t you think about it?’

‘I don’t have to,’ she told him flatly. ‘I’m not working with you, Victor in any capacity, come what may. My business is mine and will stay that way. Yours belongs
to you and your family.’ She looked at him with exasperation. ‘It’s no good, Victor. It wouldn’t work for us to see each other on a day-to-day basis. Nicole isn’t that
much of a fool, surely to God?’

He scowled pugnaciously. ‘My business doesn’t concern Nicole!’

‘It should do,’ Mary retorted tartly.

‘As long as I keep her supplied with adequate money, that’s all she needs to care about,’ he hurled back angrily. He supposed he should have known better. Mary was so fiercely
independent but he had allowed himself to hope they could be with each other on a daily, legitimate basis. He opened his mouth to argue more forcefully.

‘No!’ Mary forestalled him. ‘It’s finished, Victor.’

He snorted. ‘I wasn’t aware it had ever begun,’ he grumbled almost petulantly.

‘Victor, this is getting us nowhere. I’m going because rain will be here shortly. You can walk back down the road with me then we’ll shake hands, and that—will be
that!’

He couldn’t believe it. Surely she could not mean it. An abrupt severing of all that lay between them was impossible for him and he considered it to be the same for her, so who was this
proud, stiff jawed girl? Where had his wild Mary gone?

‘Mary!
I love you
!’ he affirmed holding her gaze, trying to pour his adoration into her.

Mary broke eye contact first, feeling an awful sadness well up and a lump to start to stick in the middle of her throat. She knew he spoke the truth. She guessed he knew her pose was a charade
but she was also aware that if she yielded but a fraction it would be fatal for both of them. Now was the time when she must be the stronger, no matter what it might cost.

She tipped her head slightly, as if saluting him, then walked by. He went to grab her hand but she anticipated this and swung it briskly as she lengthened her stride. The clouds were coming
nearer and already she fancied there was a fine spray coming from the sea. Suddenly the first raindrops hit them with a vengeance and she broke into a run.

He loped at her side. ‘Put some speed on,’ he encouraged, ‘or we’re going to get soaked!’

By the time they reached the cottage the rain was coming down steadily, slanting with the wind as the clouds boiled up ready for a storm.

‘I’m going home,’ Mary called, her soaking hair stuck to her head, her clothes clinging to her figure, outlining it, making it look even more wonderful. ‘Goodbye,
Victor!’

‘No!’ he shouted, springing before her to block her path. ‘Please see me again!’ he cried frantically, then grabbed her hands. ‘Mary, I’ve never begged a man
for anything in my life and certainly not a woman. I beg you, I beseech you, see me again?’

Mary’s shoulders sagged wearily and she went to shake her head. He was making it all so agonising.

‘Not next week or next month,’ he told her in a panic now. ‘Look!’ he shouted above the torrential rain. ‘Let some time go by and think about it all. I’ll
meet you exactly two months today at—’ His mind worked frantically. It had to be somewhere very private. Inspiration hit him. ‘At Torteval, Pleinmont Point. The hill there, up the
track and I’ll be waiting halfway for you. Please come.’

Mary felt the rain lashing her face, making her eyes narrow. They must look a pair of idiots standing out in such weather with him holding her hands. She must, simply must, get away from him.
She looked again into his begging eyes and softened. A lot could happen in two months.

‘Oh, very well,’ she agreed reluctantly.

He released her hands, triumphant with victory. ‘I’ll be there,’ he promised.

Mary turned and started to hurry towards her home as the rain pounded down. She was sodden yet also strangely exhilarated. Was he sending her mad? She knew she would see him again if only to
emphasise her decision because in two months’ time her resolution would surely have grown harder and more set. He had to accept her judgement so they could both live in peace on Guernsey.

* * *

A week later Sam spoke to her. ‘I have one,’ he said quietly aware that Emily was in the kitchen.

Mary looked at him sharply. The kitchen door was wide open and though she stood outside near the back patio she had long ago learned that Emily had keen hearing. She felt a flutter of excitement
and Sam looked smugly pleased with himself.

‘Slip out in the next hour,’ Sam hissed, ‘and I’ll show you.’

‘But where can we go?’ Mary asked, aware that in daytime people were around in the nearby glasshouses.

Sam thought a moment. ‘We’ll take the trap and I’m showing you a cottage,’ he grinned roguishly.

Her spirits were slowly rising. Sometimes she felt dreadful because she did not miss Duret at all; indeed there was a lighter atmosphere in the house. The children seemed more agreeable and
Raoul, busy training Raymond to take over in the glasshouses, with a boy to help him, was spending as much time as he could with Sam. She liked Raoul. He did not speak in a hurry but what he did
say held sense. In many ways, he was not unlike Sam and, give him a few more years, he would be Sam’s double in thought and action. Raoul’s wife Amelia was quite happy with the new
arrangements because Mary had taken the chance and confided in Raoul with Sam at her side. He had been very impressed with her plans and flattered when she had indicated that, once the business was
on a good footing, it would become a small private company and he would be cut in.

Raymond too was highly satisfied with the way matters had turned out. He was on hand to court Gwen who was also delighted and they had their eye on a small cottage up the lane. It was in a bad
state of repair but Mary had bought it and told Raymond that if he did it up, he could live there rent-free for as long as he worked for the family. Raymond never ceased to count his blessings that
he had peeped through his father’s hedge that day and seen the odd sight of two fully dressed adults having a row while standing in the sea. It was only later he had learned more details and
even then, unknown to either him or Gwen, they had been told only what Mary and Tante thought they should know. James le Canu had been with them and the lawyer’s presence had impressed both
Raymond and Gwen with the seriousness of it all.

‘They seem decent enough, Madam,’ James had said after the young couple left, ‘but I’ve found it a good policy in life not to let the left hand know all the right hand
does!’ he had finished, giving Louise a straight look.

Mary had missed the byplay which was just as well because, very quickly, Louise had given a slow secretive wink to the young lawyer and it had taken him all his time to keep a suitably straight
face. James le Canu wondered what the senior lady would have thought at the other matter which had been in his mind for a while and which had been carefully discussed with someone as deep and
secretive as himself. Their conversation would have appeared odd if there had been an eavesdropper, which was impossible because they were both too sharp and wary. In this year of 1923, surely life
was settling down after the terrible war despite the worries of unemployment and trade recession.

In a short while, Mary sat beside Sam as he drove gently up the lane and headed into the countryside. There had been a heavy dew and globules of moisture still stuck to the grasses and
hedges’ lower leaves but the sun had come out. Though a little watery Sam knew it would turn into a nice early summer’s day. He drew the cob back to a walk at a gate, jumped down,
opened it, then lead the cob and trap through.

Mary looked ahead to a small spinney and an ancient cottage, then she gazed around. They were quite alone and seemingly miles from the sea though she guessed they were barely over one from the
coast as the crow flew.

‘Come on!’ Sam grunted stepping into the lead. ‘We’ll go around the back of the cottage but I’ll just check there are no children playing in it. It’s a
holiday for them today,’ he reminded her.

Mary did not need to be told this. Margaret was racing around, full of energy, into all sorts of mischief and dragging William with her. She hoped that Gwen would soon take them down to the
beach to build sandcastles or hunt for shells.

After a few moments, Sam came back. ‘We’re alone all right,’ he grunted and dived into the front of his shirt to withdraw the pistol.

Mary took it gingerly and studied it carefully. It was small which made it perfect and she flashed her delight at Sam. She had already started to insert pockets into all of her skirts and
whatever she acquired from now on would have the same. This tiny pistol could fit snug and hidden, unsuspected by any attacker.

‘Now I’ll show you how to load and use it. It’s an American Derringer,’ Sam told her. ‘They have always been popular with ladies because they can slide into a small
handbag. Gamblers use them a lot too. They can be dressed up wearing a smart evening jacket which looks innocent but one of these tiny pistols is easily concealed. There are two barrels which means
you’ll only ever have two shots. It’s not like a revolver with six or more,’ he warned her seriously.

‘If I can’t get out of trouble with two shots, then I doubt I’d manage it with six!’ Mary said bleakly.

‘Pay attention!’ Sam told her sternly. ‘This is only a small weapon. I doubt you’d get a tinier one so you are limited in both range and accuracy. It’s best to
consider this a pistol to use on someone close to. Not yards away because though it has an explosive charge, it’s small; the power soon wears off and the bullet starts to fall.’ Mary
listened attentively, nodding at the points he made.

‘It’s best to aim for the body which is a larger target than the head,’ Sam touched his middle. ‘There’s a big artery here. You put a bullet in the middle of that
and no one is going to recover,’ he added grimly. ‘It’s not a toy, Mary. Don’t think that because it
is
small. This can kill just as efficiently as a large service
revolver, given the right range and accuracy.’

Under Sam’s guidance Mary practised loading and unloading, the operation of the safety catch, then firing the weapon. To Sam’s surprise she had a good eye and steady hand. It took
very little practice for her to hit the target he had erected near an oak tree.

‘The secret of shooting,’ Sam continued,’ is constant practice. It’s just like anything else. Practice does indeed make perfect.’

‘I’ll do that,’ Mary told him in a hard voice. She doubted whether even Sam fully understood the terror Duret had instilled in her with his big hands locked around her neck.
From now on, she would be able to defend herself and if anything happened in which the law heard of the derringer and confiscated it, she would simply get another.

‘Good,’ Sam grunted after a while. ‘That’s enough for today. Little and often is better than two hours at a stretch and, Mary, this must remain our secret. I’m now
an accomplice,’ he reminded her.

Mary wondered from whom he had obtained the pistol but she knew better than to ask. She knew Sam was discreet enough not to have left a trail for any inquisitive policeman to follow like that
nosy Emil le Norman.

* * *

As the weeks slipped past Mary resumed her new life, throwing herself into a careful study of any old cottages that came on the market. Some she instructed the lawyer to buy
while others she rejected outright and gradually she came to know him well enough to use his first name like Tante. The cottages near the sea were the ones she favoured though she had bought two
useful small houses near Sous l”Eglise almost in the island’s centre, reckoning there might be holiday-makers not interested in the sea—artists perhaps or people who might prefer
simple country walks. She always discussed everything with Sam and Tante; if one did not know the area, the other did and finally they decided upon the name of Noyen Enterprises for their little
company. They gave the lawyer instructions to see about forming this for the following year.

She never mentioned Victor and neither did Tante, although Mary was sure she saw her grandson on a regular basis.

On the eve before she had promised to meet him, she stood talking to Tante examining her front garden, which was now a picture of bedding plants and shrubs against the boundary wall. The heavy
jobs of cutting the grass had been taken over by Raoul who had turned into a fine right-hand man. Even Sam could find no fault with him and Amelia was a good wife, rearing their two young sons.

‘I’m seeing Victor tomorrow afternoon,’ Mary said casually. Tante went stiff and flashed a sharp look at her. ‘I’m glad you’re friends,’ she said
carefully.

‘I don’t know about that,’ Mary replied with equal precision. ‘We are rather alike which makes fighting material, doesn’t it?’

‘So what are you seeing him for then?’

Mary faced her. ‘To reaffirm what I said two months ago. That it’s best we keep apart if we are both to live and work here. I shall not be joining him in any business venture either.
Seeing him daily would be most unwise.’

‘For whom?’

Mary paused then shrugged. ‘For both of us, I think, Tante,’ she admitted and knew, with those words, she had said it all.

‘But you are going to see him though?’