Josephine Cox Mother’s Day 3-Book Collection: Live the Dream, Lovers and Liars, The Beachcomber

‘Can’t be for me then,’ Jasper remarked. ‘I don’t know anybody who lives in Buckinghamshire.’

‘Well, it’s addressed to you.’ The postman checked the address. ‘There you are, it’s for you all right.’ He handed the letter over. ‘Looks like a woman’s writing.’ He laughed. ‘A woman from your past who’s tracked you down.’

Jasper shoved the letter in his pocket. ‘If they’re after me money, they’ll be disappointed ’cause I ain’t got none.’ He collected his milk and stepped back into the passage. ‘Come in, Ted. I’ve just this minute put the kettle on.’

‘Can’t.’ Heaving his heavy sack onto his shoulders, Ted apologised. ‘Any other time I’d be glad to, but not today. There’s a union meeting at twelve. I daren’t be late for that.’

Jasper knew all about these union meetings. ‘I suppose yer all planning to go on strike. An’ never mind the poor folks as won’t get their mail for weeks on end. What’s it all about now?’

‘I never said we were going on strike, Jasper, and I’ll thank you not to spread that about. It could cause all manner of trouble.’

Jasper grinned. ‘What meks yer think I’d spread it about?’

The postman shook his head, his smile as wide as Jasper’s. ‘’Cause you’re a mischievous bugger, that’s why!’ Knowing how Jasper could always get the better of anyone in an argument, he bade him good morning and went on his way.

‘Good job yer know when to quit!’ Jasper called after him in light-hearted humour. ‘I’ve a reputation for making mincemeat outta troublemakers like you.’

With his milk under one arm and his paper under the other, he made his way to the kitchen. Throwing the letter on the table, he ignored it while he tucked into his bowl of porridge, helped down with two mugs of tea. ‘I don’t know anybody in Buckinghamshire,’ he grumbled on. ‘It can’t be for me!’

He finished his porridge and read his paper, and every now and then cast an eye on that small white envelope, but he made no move to open it. ‘It’ll be some damned silly company, trying to sell me summat.’

A few minutes later, as he cleared the table, his curiosity got the better of him. Leaning down to examine the letter more closely, he was shocked. ‘My God!’ Recognising the handwriting, he snatched up the letter and tore it open. ‘It is!’ he murmured. ‘It’s her!’

As he read the letter his old face creased into a smile. ‘Well, I never.’ He gave a delighted chuckle. ‘It’s from Liz! After all this time.’ He read the letter again just to be sure.

Dear Jasper,

I’m sorry I haven’t written before, but I knew how you would be taking care of everything, so I didn’t feel there was any urgency. Besides, as I’m sure you can understand, I had a great deal to think about, and young Robbie was so upset about his daddy not coming back. It’s been so hard, trying to understand why he abandoned us like he did, but then I don’t really know the circumstances behind it all.

I took Robbie away for a long holiday, and when he seemed so happy in Scotland, I decided to stay there for a time. I rented a house and Robbie went to school, and for a time it seemed as though we might make it a permanent home. But then, Robbie got homesick, and we decided to come back south. Since we’ve been back, he’s smiled a lot more, and slowly but surely he’s coming to terms with not having his daddy close by.

Did Robert ever come back, Jasper? Have you heard from him? I miss your old face, with its whiskers and that mischievous grin. The truth is, I would very much like to see you, though I’m not ready to return to West Bay; it would be too painful … I know I would see him everywhere I went.

Thank you for looking after the cottage, Jasper. I see from the bank statements that you have a tenant. Is it a man or a woman, or maybe a family? And what about Barden House? Is it falling to rack and ruin? I know I asked you to leave it the way it was, and I still feel that way about it. But I’ve begun to feel that maybe I didn’t have the right. It wasn’t my house. It was his. But, you see, Jasper, it was our home … the happiest place on God’s earth. To clean it, or to rearrange the garden, would be to change the memories, and I couldn’t bear that.

Maybe he’ll come back and decide what to do with the house. Maybe he’ll look for me and his son, and explain his reason for abandoning us. We do miss him so much.

I have many questions, Jasper.

You’ll find a train ticket to Bletchley in the envelope, together with instructions from there and my address.

Robbie and I would love to have you come and stay for a while … if you can bear to leave your beloved West Bay.

Please say you will.

All our love,

Liz and Robbie

Slumping into the chair, Jasper held the letter in his hand. ‘How can I tell her?’ he wondered. ‘It might be kinder to let her go on thinking he abandoned them.’

It was a terrible decision for him to make, but after a while he knew what he must do. ‘She’ll have to be told, but not in a letter.’

Now that his mind was made up, he didn’t hesitate. Getting out of the chair, he went to the dresser, where he found a writing pad and pack of envelopes. ‘I’ll go and see them.’ In fact, now that he’d decided to go, he began to look forward to it.

Jasper was not a man of letters, so his reply was short and to the point.

Dear Liz.

It was wonderful to hear from you. I knew you would get in touch eventually.

Thank you for the ticket. I shall be up to see you …

He glanced again at the date on the ticket.

… Thursday 25 September. Meanwhile take care of yourself. Love to you both, Jasper.

Closing the letter into an envelope, he sealed it with the tip of his tongue. Then he copied down the address she’d given him, and laid it on the table beside the train ticket and travel instructions.

‘I’m sorry, lass,’ he muttered, ‘but you’ll happen not be so glad to see me as you think.’ Imparting the sad news to that lovely lady was not something he looked forward to.

That night, over a drink in the privacy of the cottage garden, Jasper confided in Tom. ‘I’m going away,’ he explained. ‘There’s summat I have to do.’

Tom had seen how the old man had been unusually quiet, and was concerned. ‘Is it serious?’ he asked now. ‘I mean … you’re not ill, are you, Jasper?’ That would be a shocking blow, for he had come to love the old man like a father. In fact, he seemed more of a father than his own had been, since he had deserted him and Dougie when they were small. When they lost their mother soon after, Tom put it down to a broken heart. After that they were shifted from relative to relative. It had been a harsh and unsettled upbringing.

Jasper put his mind at rest. ‘No, lad, I’m not ill. But I’ve a terrible duty to perform, and it’s playing on my mind.’

‘Would it help to talk about it?’ Tom could see how it was worrying the old man.

It took a moment for Jasper to answer, but when he did it was with a deep-down sigh. ‘Happen it would,’ he agreed. ‘Aye, happen it would.’

Before commencing, he took a fortifying sip of his tea, and there in that pretty garden on that pleasant autumn evening, he told Tom the whole sorry, beautiful tale of Kathy’s father, Robert, and the woman he loved.

‘Liz and her husband Gordon lived here in this very cottage for many years,’ he began. ‘He had a thriving ironmongery business in Bridport and another in Dorchester, so they weren’t short of brass. But “brass” doesn’t always make for contentment, and they were far from content. From what Liz told me, it wasn’t an ideal match. He was a bit of a bully and she, being the gentle, compassionate soul she is, suffered his temper tantrums with dignity.’

He gave a tender smile. ‘She was trained as a nurse, so I expect she was used to handling every situation, but, because of Gordon’s nasty ways, over the years he lost her respect, and in the end he lost her love.’

He described how it all ended. ‘Gordon took to womanising. One dark night just before the war he’d been into Bridport … seeing this woman he’d taken a fancy to. It turned out later that the pair of them had drunk enough booze to sink a battleship. Anyway, he’d missed the last bus, so he decided to walk back to West Bay. Coming across the junction he must have stumbled; he was run down by a lorry … the driver said he just seemed to come out of nowhere. A car driver coming the other way witnessed it, too. He said the lorry driver couldn’t have done a thing to stop what happened.’

The old man threw out his hands in a gesture of helplessness. ‘Gordon were killed instantly, and Liz was left on her own, though after a time she came out of her shell and seemed a far happier person than she’d been with him. But she was that lonely. Sometimes you’d see her walking the beach, deep in thought, and other times she’d call me in for a cup of tea and she’d tell me about when she were a girl and how she’d allus longed for a brother or sister. Then, like now, she felt terrible lonely.’

Tom nodded. He knew how that felt. ‘She’s fortunate to have you for a friend. We both are.’

The old man thanked him for the compliment, and added, ‘She were a lovely-looking lady, still young …’ He chuckled. ‘I can never tell a woman’s age.’

Tom was curious. ‘Did she ever marry again? Is that why she moved away from here?’

‘No. It weren’t like that. Y’see, one day in early spring some nine years ago, a man came to stay in West Bay.’ His memories took him back, and made him smile. ‘Oh, but he did love this place. He once told me how he left all his troubles behind when he stayed here.’