The Beachcomber. Josephine Cox
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Kathy knew straight off. ‘It’s money, isn’t it? You’re marrying him for his money!’
‘Well, why not?’ Seeing the look of incredulity on Kathy’s face, Irene demanded, ‘What’s wrong with looking after my future? In another few years I’ll be sixty. Oh, I know your father left me well off, and I’ve got that all tucked away. But it won’t last for ever. Anyway, I don’t enjoy being alone. I need a man in my life, someone to take me out and about. I want to travel the world … I need the very best of everything. Unlike you poor things, I’ve never had to work, and I never want to. I’ve always been used to the finer things in life, thanks to a generous legacy left me by your great-grandfather. Then, of course, when I married your father, he wouldn’t even hear of me working, and of course, I didn’t mind that at all.’
Savouring the moment, she went on with a calm smugness that irritated Kathy and filled Samantha with admiration. ‘I intend to look after number one from now on.’ She pointed an accusing finger at her youngest daughter. ‘And I’ll thank you not to look at me as if I’m some kind of monster.’
Samantha remained in a sulk. ‘I thought you cared about me, but you don’t. You’re nothing but a grabbing, selfish bitch. All you care about is yourself! You couldn’t care less what happens to me.’
Infuriated, Irene rounded on her. ‘Is it my fault if you’ve both made a mess of your lives? At least I stayed married long enough to see my husband off. Look at the pair of you. It’s pathetic! Neither of you married. You don’t even own the roofs over your heads.’ Waving her arms to embrace the room, she declared triumphantly, ‘Look at what I’ve got to show for my efforts. Doesn’t it make you feel ashamed?’
‘You cow!’ Samantha’s temper was a match for her mother’s. ‘You always promised you’d look after me, and now here you are … walking out with everything … feathering your nest again, and to hell with everybody else.’
‘How dare you!’ In two strides Irene had Samantha by the shoulders. ‘You’re the biggest disappointment of my life. It didn’t matter about Kathy making a mess of her life … it was only what I expected. But you!’ Shaking her hard, she let out a torrent of abuse. ‘I told everyone my daughter Samantha would make something of herself, but you let me down! You humiliated me in front of all my friends. You and her –’ she thumbed a gesture in Kathy’s direction ‘– you make me sick! Failures, the both of you!’
Suppressing her anger, Kathy’s calm voice cut through her mother’s cruel words. ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘It’s true our marriages didn’t work out. But you’re as much to blame as anyone else. Always interfering … nothing was ever right. Constantly picking fights with Samantha’s husband and mine … causing no end of trouble, excluding them from family; deliberately hounding them, until in the end they had no choice but to leave us. No man on God’s earth would put up with what they had to put up with.’
‘That’s not true!’ Samantha now defended her mother from Kathy’s anger. ‘Mother’s right. They were weak and cowardly, or they would have stayed with us, no matter what.’ Samantha had married an American GI at the end of the war in a whirlwind romance. When Samantha had refused to go to Germany with him after the war, the marriage had stood little chance.
‘I’m glad they didn’t stay.’ Irene’s feathers had been ruffled but now she composed herself. ‘They were wrong from the beginning, those two.’
‘It’s all in the past, Mother.’ Kathy could never forgive her, but there was nothing to be gained by being at each other’s throats. ‘You said you had something to tell us?’
Looking from one to the other, Irene took a deep breath. ‘There are things you should know –’ she glanced at Kathy ‘– about your father.’ Clearing her throat, she collected the document-case papers from the table. ‘In here are keys and the deeds to Barden House. It’s a place in West Bay, Dorset.’
Her face stiffened. ‘I didn’t even know it existed until I was looking through your father’s papers. I also found letters – intimate love-letters; hordes of them – from some woman who signed herself as Liz.’
Bristling with indignation, she directed her hurtful words to Kathy in particular. ‘The truth is, your father was not the innocent you thought he was. He and this woman apparently had an affair and, judging by those letters, it went on for some considerable time. When he was away from home – when I believed he was working – he was with her, in that house! The two of them … in their little love-nest!’
Shocked and confused, Kathy was stunned into silence, while Samantha began to laugh. ‘The old so-and-so … carrying on behind your back. Well, I never!’
In a gesture of disgust, Irene thrust the folder at Kathy. ‘What do you think of your precious father now? He wasn’t the caring man you always thought he was. Instead, he was a cheat and a liar, and I want nothing that was his! Go on, take them: the house, the letters, too. They’re yours. Sell the house, burn it down, I don’t care.’
In an almost inaudible voice, she made a confession. ‘I went there … to West Bay. I was curious. I thought maybe it was her he’d bought the house for … that she was still living there. But it seems the house stood empty for months on end before I turned up. I learned a lot when I asked about. You’d be amazed how much people know in a small place like that.’
Her voice trembled with emotion. ‘At first I thought I might be able to sell the place. I suspected it would be a grand house, filled with expensive furniture that she’d cajoled him into buying. I was wrong. It’s just a horrid, poky little place, filled with cheap, rubbishy things I wouldn’t even put in my shed. The gardens are all overgrown, and the windows are already beginning to rot. I have no use for it, just like I had no use for your father.’
A look of regret crossed her features. ‘Besides, when I took a closer look at the deeds I realised I couldn’t sell it anyway … You see, he bought the house in your name! I was furious. I locked the deeds and letters away and tried to forget about it. Now, though, I want rid of everything that reminds me of him.’
‘It’s not fair!’ Samantha was beside herself. ‘What about me?’ she demanded. ‘She gets a house by the coast. But what do I get?’
Ignoring her, Irene was intent on Kathy. ‘I want you to go now,’ she told her in a cold, quiet voice, ‘and don’t bother coming back.’
Shaken by events, Kathy looked up; at this woman who was her mother … her tormentor, and she felt a wave of relief that somehow it was over … all the pain and heartache she had endured because of this heartless creature. It was over and, for the moment, it was all she could think of.
Kathy turned to Samantha, that haughty creature who was her mother in the making. Suddenly she pitied her. ‘Take care of yourself, Sam,’ she said.
Samantha didn’t answer. Instead she deliberately looked away. But it didn’t matter. Not any more.
As she stood in the hall pulling on her coat, Kathy heard her mother reassuring Samantha. ‘You know I would never let you down. Once I have Richard’s ring on my finger, this house will be yours. It’s all agreed … ready to be signed and sealed. I don’t need it – nor my jewellery – everything your father ever bought me. I’ve got plenty of money tucked away, and Richard will