Leaving George Page 3

  Of course she would go to the beach tomorrow if the weather was fine. Through the tiny gate in the old stone wall and down to the warm sand and the glittering water. Now, in the night standing by the kitchen window she wondered what would it be like to go immediately. To make her way through the dark rustle of the meadow, to follow the sandy path and then walk in bare feet along the wet sand with the cold water lapping at her ankles. She didn’t know the way yet, hadn’t had a chance to explore but she promised herself that before she left there would be a walk down in the darkness and a walk along the moon-washed shore…

  She didn’t realise that she had slept until she woke to the chaotic cheep and chatter of birds. There was an occasional whoosh of car tyres on the road outside and knocking on the front door. She slid from the bed and leaned to open the leaded window. “Hello. I’m up here.”

  “Oh, sorry my dear. I thought you might be out. I’m Dolly. I brought milk.” The slim woman dressed in light trousers and a bright flower patterned blouse lifted a bottle as evidence.

  “I didn’t mean to disturb you dear. Shall I just leave it here?”

  “No, no it’s fine. I think I’ve overslept. Hang on I’ll come down.”

  She glanced down at her wrinkled pyjamas and shrugged. The woman knew she had been in bed, but what did it matter. She ran down the stairs and dragged open the front door.

  “Come in please. What time is it? I didn’t get off to sleep until late.”

  “It’s only eight my dear. Was there something wrong with the bed?”

  “No, nothing like that. I think I was just overtired. I’m Pauline.” She held out a hand and the woman mistook the gesture and plonked the milk bottle in her curled fingers.

  “Oh, right. Thanks.”

  “So, I’m Dolly and Jim said you might want cleaning and maybe to stay a bit longer than you’ve booked for?”

  “Yes, well yes to the cleaning and to be honest I think I would like to stay. My plans right now are flexible and it’s so lovely here. I haven’t been since I was little and I’d forgotten how peaceful it is.”

  “Well, I can come in every other day. I’ll bring you milk and if you let me know whether you want bread or anything I can order it for you. There is a shop in the village. That’s about twenty five minutes’ walk and they have most of the essentials, though we do sell vegetables here. We have a butcher comes twice a week and the pub down the road does meals.”

  “Have you got time for a cup of tea, coffee?”

  “That would be nice. I can’t stay long but a cup of coffee would be really nice, thank you. I hope Jim wasn’t too grumpy with you. I don’t like asking him to do the opening up but my friend’s daughter has just had a baby and I was up there all day helping her.”

  Pauline looked at the woman, she was late middle aged, with well-cut brown hair flecked a little grey around the temples. She was dressed casually but neatly and seemed to be wearing just a little understated make up. This person was totally unlike the Dolly she would have imagined as partner to the cranky Jim of the previous night.

  “Well, he was… erm… a little disturbed, I think because I was later than he expected.”

  “Oh dear, I’m sorry. He’s my brother and we run the place together. My hubby died a while ago and I moved back here. The farm was my dad’s and it’s Jim’s really now and I just run the guest side of things and the vegetable shop.”

  “Oh it’s okay, it had been a funny day anyway and he wasn’t rude.” With her tongue firmly in her cheek Pauline had decided she liked this woman and didn’t want to embarrass her. After all the strange welcome had in the end lifted her mood.

  “Well, if you need anything just let me know and if you do speak to Jim just take him as you find him. He’s as good as gold really.”

  “You don’t have as strong an accent as your brother.”

  “No, I lived near London while I was married. I taught up there, it’s nice to be back though.”

  Pauline clattered round the kitchen filling the kettle and searching for cups and coffee. When the drink was made Dolly opened the back door.

  “It’s a lovely morning, do you mind if we sit out here. There’s a little table and we can watch the water. I did miss it when I was away and I can sit and watch it for hours.”

  “Oh, yes that would be lovely. Can I book for an extra time, maybe another ten days on top of the week I already paid for?”

  “Yes, I should think that’s fine. I’ll check the book and if there’s a problem I’ll let you know. Have you got your mobile number?”

  “Oh, crikey. Yes, that was one of the things that happened yesterday you see. I lost my phone,” (Another lie joined the tangle and already this new relationship was tinged with small guilt) “I’ll have to order one, the booking form said you have WiFi… is that right?”

  “Yes, you should be able to get a signal in any room and even out here if you’re in luck. I can pop back if there’s a problem; otherwise I’ll make the booking. Anyway, I’ll leave you to get on. I hope you have a nice stay and anything you need just let us know. Are you a writer or a painter or…”

  “No, no. Why do you ask?”

  “Oh it’s just that usually people who come on their own, they’re arty types wanting peace to work. It’s none of my business of course but I just wondered you know.”

  “Oh I see. No, I’ve been through a bit of a stressful time and I just thought a break would do me good; you know, a change of scene. I’m used to being on my own.” As she said it Pauline didn’t feel the little tug of guilt; this at least wasn’t entirely a lie, as she felt that she had in an emotional sense been on her own for years. She had always hidden the problems of her marriage, even from her friends. She had felt so lonely for so long, even when George was in the room with her, because there was such a chasm of dislike and distrust between them that was impossible to bridge.

  Dolly, perhaps noticing that Pauline was rather distracted by her thoughts, quietly took her cup back into the kitchen. “You sit there and enjoy the sun my dear, I’ll let myself out.” And with a flap of her hand to wave goodbye she was gone. Pauline leaned back against the wooden bench and watched the gulls follow a fishing boat, diving into the white wake and screaming with excitement in the clear morning.

  Chapter 7

  First things first. Pauline logged on with her Macbook and ordered a new phone. Then she picked out some clothes. What she had managed to bring with her would do for a few days but now she had achieved the first part of the journey she would be able to handle more luggage. Her wardrobes had been full but she wanted none of the wrappings of that downtrodden and lonely woman. She felt no regret for leaving behind her the soft armour of gowns worn to events she had never enjoyed. Nor for the sweaters and skirts with invisible stains of violence and hurt which were gone from the fabric but still vivid in her mind.

  After toast and more coffee while she surfed and shopped she left the cottage and headed down the narrow road towards the village. The embankments were high and overgrown with tall grasses and wildflowers. The dopey murmur of bees and the zip of smaller insects filled her ears and the frantic scuttering as smaller creatures fled punctuated the regular slap, slap of her shoes on the hot tarmac. Once or twice she had to make sure she walked very close to the bank to avoid oncoming traffic and she found herself wondering how the injured rider was doing back in the hospital.

  She bought some bits and pieces at the little supermarket and with a quiet chuckle picked up a couple of bottles of wine from their small selection, after all every bugger wants wine, don’t they?

  As is the way of these things the walk back seemed shorter and in little more than an hour she was back in the garden drinking cold orange juice and clicking through the online editions of the papers. At first she found nothing and assumed that no news was good news. Surely if the man were dead it would be mentioned somewhere and then she spotted a tiny article. It reported simply that ‘yet another’ sheep related accident had put a motorbike
rider in hospital and posed the question, ‘When was something going to be done about the animals wandering loose along the roadsides?’ The rider wasn’t identified and when the article was published he was simply in hospital in a serious condition. So, not dead then. Well, not at eight thirty that morning, but it still didn’t sound good. No matter; even if the police did try to find her again she was sure that the obfuscation had been enough to cover her tracks.

  The endless blue of sky and sea curved in a great arc before her. Warm sun stroked her shoulders, easing the tension and smoothing away the worry. The drama of yesterday was a world and a lifetime since and she would let it go…

  The narrow road beyond the farm was dusty with a messy mixture of earth and sharp sand. Pauline followed in the footsteps of the small caravan of holiday makers who trod this way most of the morning. The dunes seemed higher now she was amongst them. The long grass whispered and sang and called her on towards the louder melody of the ocean and then there it was. Dancing white waves and heaving billows of deep blue and sapphire and violet. She paused and gloried in the vision. Wind whipped and pulled at her hair. Sounds of children and gulls were whisked past her ears and on and away into the ether. She filled her lungs and eyes with it and let her mind whirl into the past, when the beach meant nothing but pleasure; sun tightened skin and the cold shock of a run through breaking surf.

  Slipping and slithering she came through the dunes and onto the light sand and then the line of pebbles at the tide line. She slipped off her sandals and felt the squidge of sandy mud between her toes and she grinned. This was truly wonderful. George had never liked the beach and after several tries early in their marriage she had given up the fight and now realised just how much she had missed this wild, warm, wonderful world.

  A tiny recess in the rocks offered shelter and she leaned against the warm hardness and shuffled her bottom into a comfortable place. She heaved a great sigh. The distant sounds of pleasure tickled at the edges of hearing and the soughing of the vegetation in the dunes was mesmerising. She laid her head back against the stone and closed her eyes.

  Drifting and drowsing she started visibly when a quiet voice invaded her peace. “Penny for your thoughts? They must be nice if the expression on your face is anything to go by!”

  “Oh, Dolly! Hello!”

  “Sorry if I disturbed you.”

  “No, it’s fine. I was almost asleep and that wouldn’t be a good idea really. I haven’t put on any sunscreen yet. I hate the stickiness.”

  “Yes, me too, but they tell us we have to do it don’t they? I saw you there and thought I’d just pop up and let you know I booked you in for the extra time and I’ll be in tomorrow morning to tidy for you.”

  “Lovely, thanks. Can I order some milk and a loaf? I’ll pop in later and buy some salad.”

  “Great. And we have some really lovely strawberries just arrived; do you want me to put some aside for you?”

  “Oh yes please.”

  “Well, I’ll leave you in peace. I’ll be in the vegetable shop until about six tonight. I’ll see you later on then.”

  As the other woman trudged away through the soft sand Pauline was suddenly swept up by a feeling of loneliness. She had said she was used to being alone and this was true, but that didn’t mean that she was always happy about it. However it was easier than pretending all was well when it was far from being so. It was easier than making up stories about falls that hadn’t happened and cupboard doors that were in fact innocent of causing anyone any harm. To have someone though, who you could trust to chat with, was such an innocent thing and she wondered how she had allowed herself to become so very cut off from all her old friends. A bubble of panic roiled in her stomach. She was going away to a country where she knew no-one and where, though she felt confident in her language skills, she would be unfamiliar with the customs of daily life. Had she made a stupid mistake? Had the desperate need to escape led her to flee too far and too fast?

  Chapter 8

  “Hello, Pauline. I’ve finished now. You didn’t really need me to come in did you? There was nothing out of place. Three days already and the place is as tidy as it was when you arrived. I’m not going to charge you for today.”

  “Oh no, that’s not right! I asked you to come. To be honest I didn’t realize how much I’d be out. I’ve been at the beach so much and I’ve had lovely long walks so I haven’t been around enough to trash the place.” Pauline smiled at Dolly across the room. “Do you want a cup of coffee? I was just going to make one. Do you have time?”

  “Oh lovely, yes. I usually have one when I get home anyway so that’d be great. Look, I’ll tell you what, I usually charge for an hour, so why don’t I come in for half an hour on Monday and I’ll lump the two together. Then we can decide what to do for the next couple of weeks. I don’t want to take advantage. Usually people who come down with children have all sorts of mess to clear up, sand everywhere and toys, you know. I don’t mind it at all, it’s important people enjoy their stay.”

  “Oh Dolly, that’s very kind of you. You know when I leave here I’m going to be running a holiday place myself. More of a bed and breakfast to start with, but then I’m hoping to have a barn converted into flats.”

  “Oh well, the best of luck. It’s hard work but it’s lovely when the people are nice. Some of them are quite difficult to deal with mind you. Is it in Cornwall your place? Are we going to be business rivals?” Dolly winked as she pulled a chair out from under the kitchen table and snagged a biscuit from the plate.

  “No, I’m buying a place in France.”

  “On your own?”

  “Yes,” Pauline grimaced as she nodded her head. “Eeek and all that!”

  “Wow! Well you’re very brave.”

  “My granddad left me some money and I thought, well, if I don’t do it now I never will so there we are. I have to say I’m nervous but excited as well.”

  “So… when is this happening?”

  “The house will be mine in about another month and I'm planning to be there for a couple of weeks before that.”

  “Are you selling up here then?”

  Oh why had she blurted out the information? Now she was going to have to back pedal and smudge the truth again.

  No she wouldn’t.

  “Actually my ex-husband has the house here. He’s keeping that.”

  “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “No, it’s fine.” She leaned forward and touched a finger to Dolly’s hand where it curled around her steaming mug. “Really, it’s fine. All that is in the past and I’m moving on.”

  “Well good for you.”

  A knot of nerves fluttered deep in her belly as the words rolled from her lips. On the one hand it was all true, but in reality George didn’t even know that she’d gone yet. What would his reaction be, as the days and weeks rolled on? She couldn’t think that far, couldn’t even guess what he would do. Maybe in the dim and distant future, when she was strong and secure, she could get a solicitor and arrange a divorce. For now it was enough to be away from him. She pushed the darkness aside and smiled at Dolly. “Anyway, that’s why I’m spoiling myself a bit. I think it’s the last chance I’ll get for a while.”

  Dolly smiled gently. “So then. Are you enjoying your stay so far?”

  “I am. I’m going out for another long walk later and then tonight I have a treat planned.”

  “Oh right, are you going into the village? To the bistro? You need to book on Saturdays you know, I can give them a ring if you like?”

  “No, nothing like that. I’m going to take a bottle of wine and go down on the beach and walk in the surf in the moonlight! You’ll think I’m mad but ever since I saw the silver glow on that first night I’ve wanted to do it.”

  “Down on the beach? At night on your own?”

  “Yes, you like the beach don’t you? I bet you’ve done it loads of times!”

  “Well yes, I love the beach, certainly. And I go down there every day
if I can. I missed it so much when we lived up near London and now I can’t get enough of it. But not at night.”

  “Not at night?”

  “No, not me.”

  “It’s not illegal or something is it?”

  “No, no of course not. It’s just that we don’t. Nobody does, not at night.”

  “But why; it looks beautiful.”

  “Yes, from here, from a distance I dare say it does but… well you know Cornwall, these beaches, this coastline. It has a dark and violent history. Things have happened over time that have left a mark on the land.”

  A mark on the land. If it hadn’t been for the serious, almost fearful expression in the other woman’s eyes Pauline would have laughed, but as it was she simply tipped her head to one side and waited for more information.

  “Well, I know it sounds melodramatic and everything. It’s probably just old wives’ tales and stories to frighten children but…well… we just don’t. Now and again people have done and then they just stopped.”

  “Why? Why do they stop?”

  “Oh look, I’m being silly. If you want to go down on the beach then that’s what you should do. Thanks so much for the coffee. Enjoy your day my dear. Take care.”

  Well that was odd. Pauline had taken the landlady for a level headed, down to earth woman and the strange conversation left her puzzled. Her nerves were on edge anyway; tomorrow George would be home and she couldn’t help thinking about what his reaction was going to be when he found her gone.

  She shook her head, rinsed the mugs, and then turned to pick up her shoulder bag. She strode out of the house and off towards the cliff top walk. Maybe she would just stay in the cottage tonight and read her book. Tomorrow night she would go to the beach. Yes, she’d leave it until tomorrow.