The Beachcomber by Josephine Cox Page A

efforts to keep himself to himself, but he could not recall this particular young woman. His suspicion that she was a new arrival was confirmed when the woman in front of her asked, “You’re visiting West Bay, are you? Only, I saw you getting out of the taxi earlier.”
    Kathy told her that, yes, she was a stranger in West Bay. “But I hope I’ll be staying for a while.” In fact, once she was settled, it was Kathy’s intention to seek work. It was the only way she would be able to pay for the many repairs the house obviously needed.
    The queue moved swiftly on. Kathy got her fish and chips and walked away. Dipping into the bag, she wolfed down a chip, which was so hot it nearly burned her mouth out. “Be careful,” Tom warned her with a disarming smile. “The chips are always straight out of the fat and scalding hot.”
    Kathy laughed, a wonderful free laugh that made others turn round. “Serves me right,” she answered. “It’ll teach me not to be so greedy.” When his dark eyes smiled down on her, she felt a rush of embarrassment. Lord, he’s handsome , she thought. Maggie would be chatting him up if she was here .
    As she walked on by, Tom was shocked to his roots. “My God!” Swinging around to watch her leave, he realized he had seen her twice before. This was the same woman who had risked life and limb when she ran out in the street to hail a taxi. The second time he had seen her had been in the churchyard. He could hardly believe it. “It can’t be!” It was inconceivable. And yet here she was again, passing so close to him he could have touched her.
    It was unnerving, to say the least.
    Deciding to take a walk along the harbor, Kathy was unaware that she had caused such chaos in Tom’s mind, though she was inevitably curious about him. Once or twice she glanced back, smiling. “What’s wrong with you, Kathy Wilson?” she chided herself. “Anyone would think you’d never seen a good-looking bloke before.”
    Munching on her chips, she sauntered over the bridge and on toward the house, where she sat on the garden wall, legs dangling, her quiet eyes taking note of everything: the peeling window-sills, the beautiful solid wood door with its deep-etched panels, and the garden in the foreground with its cavalcade of weeds and giant thistles. “So much work!” she groaned. “So much money!”
    She must decide how to tackle it, what was urgent, and what could wait until she could afford to get it done.
    For a long time she sat there, thinking and calculating and trying desperately to draw a picture in her mind of her father and the woman, Liz. “A shy little thing,” the taxi driver said, “… waved him goodbye from the door.”
    Kathy was glad her father had found love and contentment, even if it was only from time to time. “I don’t blame you, Dad, for wanting to get away from Mother,” she whispered. “I’m glad you found someone who treated you right … somebody who loved you the way you deserved to be loved.”
    A sense of peace took hold of her and for a long minute she was quiet, contemplating her own future. “I know why you gave me this house,” she murmured. “You wanted me to be happy here … and maybe, just maybe, to find love.” She smiled. “Already, London seems a long way off. That day, when I took flowers to the churchyard, I had no idea what was in store. I knew nothing about what you’d done … this house, and the fact that you had left it to me in your will.”
    She chuckled. “You should have seen Mother’s face when she handed the deeds over … I think she’d rather have been handing me a poisoned chalice. And Samantha! What a terrible fuss she made. In the end she got what she wanted – they both have. Mother’s getting wed, secretly hoping he’ll pop his clogs and leave her a rich widow, and Samantha’s been promised the house, and all Mother’s jewelry. What do you think to that , eh?”
    A quietness came over her, a kind of resignation. “I