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'Huh!' He was obviously not pleased. 'You're very generous, I must say.' He went away cursing and grumbling, 'Some folks are tight as a duck's backside and no mistake!'
A moment later, she was standing at the hotel reception desk, while a fresh-faced young porter guarded her case.
'Good day. Booking in, are you?' The receptionist was a narrow-faced woman with a soft, friendly smile.
'Yes, please.' Lucy thought it all very formal.
'Could I have your name, please?'
'Lucy Lovejoy.'
'Miss or Mrs?'
Lucy wondered what difference it might make to her booking, 'It's just "Lucy",' she replied quietly, 'Lucy ... Lovejoy.'
There followed a split second of silence when the kindly woman looked up at her. 'I shall take that as being a Miss Lovejoy, is that all right?' she asked with a smile.
Lucy nodded, her tortured mind wandering back to what she was running away from. Martin and Paula. Her many responsibilities. Two children, a beloved grandchild, and a good job that she was now in danger of losing ... along with the wages it paid.
As ever, she thought of her parents, gone to their peace, leaving her behind; just as life itself had left her behind.
Only now, signing into the hotel as 'Miss Lovejoy', did she truly realise the enormity of what she had done. It made her feel somehow uplifted, but also terrified; out of her depth.
The thought of being a real wife again to Martin sickened her to the stomach. Yet the repercussions of breaking up with him frightened her. If she did let him go, what would happen to her? For most of her life, Martin had been her mainstay. How would she discover where she belonged if Martin was not in her life?
The insistent, disturbing questions continued to trouble her.
What about the children? How would they deal with the family being torn apart? Because that was exactly what it would be a family broken; beyond repair.
And, who would she turn to now that her beloved parents were gone? Her one and only confidante now was Kathleen, and she was too good a friend for her to lean on and burden with troubles not of her own making.
Lucy gave a whimsical smile at the idea of not being at the heart of her beloved family. The very prospect of such a thing was unthinkable. And yet, because of what Paula and Martin had done, she believed that putting a good distance between herself and them was probably the only way forward, if she was ever to discover where she might belong.
At this moment, though, she had no idea where she belonged. But she did know that whatever the result of her fleeing to the seaside of her childhood, and whichever way she turned, her life would never be the same.
Thankfully, here in this place where she had once been so happy, Lucy felt a sense of hope brush through her heart, and she was determined not to let painful images taint her thoughts.
She must put all that behind her and find the time to discover where her future lay. Right now she felt as though she belonged nowhere.
Her attention was now drawn to the receptionist, who was scribbling in her ledger. Lucy could not help but notice the woman's hand trembling as she wrote, and now, when she took a sneaky glance at the woman's downturned, pretty features, Lucy noticed the angry, red blush on her cheeks, and the rings of dark shadows beneath her eyes.
Lucy concluded that this was a very unhappy woman; much like herself. Possibly, Lucy suspected, the woman might even be ill.
But then she noticed the half-empty winegla.s.s on the woman's side of the desk. Partially hidden behind a folded newspaper, and sadly, it told its own story.
In that sorry moment, Lucy reflected, and not for the first time, that there were many people in this world who were fighting their demons and that, rightly or wrongly, they might find solace in different ways.
She cautioned herself. She might be wrong she might be doing this kindly woman a huge disservice but glancing again at the woman's face with its tell-tale signs of a troubled soul, Lucy knew the truth.
However, it was not for her to make judgements. When the formalities were done she thanked the woman graciously and smiled warmly, and when the woman unexpectedly smiled back in an easier manner, Lucy was oddly comforted.
As she walked away, following the porter and her suitcase, the receptionist called after her, 'Lucy Lovejoy?'
Lucy turned round. 'Yes?'
'Please ... do enjoy your stay!'
For a long moment, Lucy choked back a tear. 'I will,' she answered softly. 'Thank you.'
As Lucy walked away out of sight, the receptionist leaned back in her seat and momentarily closed her eyes.
When she opened them they held the softest gleam. 'My troubles seem small, compared to hers,' she mused. If I'm right, that lady has been through h.e.l.l and back, she thought.
She looked about nervously, before reaching behind the newspaper and drawing out the partly filled winegla.s.s, which she then stealthily lifted to her lips to enjoy a crafty little swig. She gave the merest smile as she glanced after Lucy. 'It must be true what they say,' she murmured. 'It really does take one to know one.'
She believed that she had met a soul mate in Lucy Lovejoy.
Acutely aware of her position here, regrettably she had to put aside any thoughts of making a friend, to whom she might offload details of her acrimonious divorce and recent money troubles. She could not afford to lose this well-paid job.
On the third floor, Lucy followed the porter out of the lift.
'Here we are, miss.' The smart, young man led Lucy to her room, where he opened the door and guided her inside.
After advising her of the usual facilities, he told her, 'If you need anything, just call the desk. I'm never far away.'
When he lingered at the door, Lucy realised what he was after and dug into her purse once more.
'Thank you, you're ... most kind.' He went away whistling, leaving Lucy suspecting that she must have counted out too many coins to send him away with such a wide smile on his face. You do well to whistle now, she thought, but it might have to be a smaller tip on the way out.
With a little chuckle, she went to the window and looked out across the harbour. But as she looked out, her smile fell away and her heart was sore.
She had noticed a middle-aged couple walking arm in arm alongside the harbour. It made her think: that could have been me and you, Martin. With the children grown up, we should have grown closer ... able to go away occasionally ... enjoy each other's company.
Her mind was now alive with memories. 'What happened, Martin?' she murmured softly. 'Was I so unattractive that you preferred my younger sister? Or maybe you never loved me at all. When we were all children at school together, maybe you always had a hankering for Paula, but she was too young and you were afraid to pursue her. Is that what happened, Martin? Did you only go for me, because you could not have my sister?'
The very idea shocked her, and then she felt a rush of shame for even thinking such a terrible thing. Clenching her fists, she wanted to punch something, someone, anyone. She hated Martin. She hated Paula. And then she hated herself.
'Was it something I did to make you both turn against me?' she asked herself. 'Am I such a failure as a wife and a sister that neither of you needs or wants me? That's it, isn't it? I'm a failure, and a fool.'
Drained of emotion, she leaned against the wall, her fists clenched tight as she rhythmically knocked her knuckles on the wall, over and over again. And when the tears broke free, she could no longer hold back the painful emotions. 'I never even suspected anything ... not even for a minute! What kind of an idiot am I?' she wondered out loud. 'Was I too giving ... too loving? Too accommodating ... too easy to fool?'
Then suddenly she was fighting back. 'No! Why should I take the blame for their cheating?' She paced the floor, angrily ranting, 'You ... my own sister ... and you, Martin I really don't know either of you, do I? You used me ... ignored me, like I was nothing like I didn't matter and for that I can never forgive you. Either of you! You are without conscience. You don't give a d.a.m.n for the children, or how this would affect them if they knew. But you know what? We don't need either of you. So, yes, if you want each other, then go ahead, because I for one don't care any more.'
But even while she was ranting, Lucy knew that was not true, because when she gave her love it was unconditional and for ever. She regretted being that way now, but she could not change her nature.
She could not stop caring, but any semblance of loyalty and respect she had for her husband and sister were now gone.
'I can't be near you any more,' she whispered. 'How could I ever again look either of you in the eye?'
Taking the stool from the dressing table, she carried it to the window, where she sat down, and deliberately focused her mind on the scene below.
She was delighted that she had been given a room with a sea view. The hotel overlooked the pretty harbour. Lucy had not forgotten it, and from what she could see now, it was still exactly the same as she remembered: the narrow walkway alongside the harbour, and the little stone wall that ran the entire length of the walkway.
Oh, and there was the doughnut stall, and the ice-cream stall, and the bric-a-brac stalls either side. And beyond them was the restaurant with the same, wide decking she remembered, the tables set beneath parasols, and beneath the decking, the ma.s.sive, wooden pillars.
Lucy recalled the manager himself explaining to her parents how the whole ensemble was skilfully brought together, with the giant wooden pillars driven into the sea bed in order to take the considerable weight of the decking.
Drawing the stool nearer to the window, Lucy began to notice many other landmarks, and the more she discovered, the quieter of heart she became. After the anguish and turmoil of the past few days, she was finding such a great sense of peace here, in this precious, hidden gem, away from the ha.s.sle and rush, and the bad things that she had no control over.
High above, the sun was s.h.i.+ning in the bluest of skies. In the harbour the little boats were being got ready to go out, and as they swung about to enter the narrow causeway to the open sea, the water made wide, mesmerising patterns as it swirled beneath the chugging engines.
The cliffs around the bay and the endless blanket of s.h.i.+fting blue sea completed the picture. So quaint, and magnificent.
It was as though a tiny piece of heaven had sometime fallen from the skies and settled here.
Lucy's attention was drawn to a small child playing on the beach, her parents ever watchful as she began to wander. Lucy saw herself in that small child, and tears once more threatened as all the earlier, precious memories of this idyllic little seaside hideaway came back with a rush of love and appreciation. 'Are you here, Mum and Dad?' she murmured brokenly. 'Are you watching over me?'
A moment later, Lucy's inquisitive gaze followed the couple, who had stopped at the ice-cream stall before, strolling along arm in arm again. They were so easy with each other, she a.s.sumed they must be man and wife; or maybe old sweethearts. Or both!
Lucy continued to watch their progress, as they turned off the walkway, obviously still enjoying their ice creams. Then they skirted around the path, as though heading for the jetty.
In her troubled mind, Lucy saw her mum and dad walking the same path, also eating ice cream. And she turned away. It was too much too soon. She could look no longer.
She stood and turned her back to the window, eyes closed, thinking of how it used to be.
Gently s.h.i.+fting the memories to the back of her mind, Lucy reminded herself there were loved ones at home waiting for her to call.
Kathleen wanted to be home when Lucy called, so today she had swapped her afternoon s.h.i.+ft with a colleague.
With no word from Lucy, she was now concerned. So when the telephone rang, she grabbed up the receiver. 'h.e.l.lo?'
'Kathleen, it's me!' Lucy was relieved to find her at home. 'I'm calling to say I got here all right. I thought you might be worried.'
'Yes! I was worried! Sure, I've been worried all morning. So, where are you now?'
'I'm at the hotel, and oh, Kathleen, it's wonderful. It's the same hotel we stayed in when I was a child, but it's been renovated, and it's just lovely. Everything here is the same the harbour, the ice-cream stalls and, oh, Kathleen, it's like being a child again.'
'Well, that's good, isn't it?'
'Yes, but the trouble is, I can't stop thinking about what Martin and Paula did. And I do miss my parents. Looking out at the harbour just now, I saw this middle-aged couple, and for some reason, they reminded me of Mum and Dad ... and-'
'Whoa!' Kathleen smiled. 'You're talking so fast, I can't take it all in. So, you've seen a couple who reminded you of Mum and Dad. Well, that's kinda nice, but don't go looking for your parents in every couple you see. It will only make you tearful.'
'I realise that, Kathleen, but it isn't easy.'
'You need to remember why you're there. You, Lucy Lovejoy, are there to think about your future, and what you want to do next. So, please, don't torment yourself with painful memories. Focus on the real reason why you're there. Walk a lot. Laugh a lot. Go dancing. Flirt with every man that looks at you, and go a little bit mad if you feel like it. Let your hair down. If your cheating sister can do it, so can you.'
Lucy actually laughed out loud. 'Kathleen Riley! You're a terror! If I took notice of you, I'd get locked up.'
'Yes, you probably would. But then it would be a new experience for you, don't you think?'
'I suppose so ... yes.' Lucy thought herself very fortunate to have such a crazy friend. 'Only, I haven't come here to get locked up, or to flirt with every man I see. I'm not you, Kathleen, though sometimes I wish I was. But Lucy Lovejoy is not and never will be wild and wanton, more's the pity!' She quickly changed the conversation. 'It was a straightforward journey here, thank goodness.'
'Aha!' Kathleen clicked her tongue. 'What's been going on then? Come on, out with it!'
'I don't know what you mean.'
'Yes, you do, Lucy, girl, so ... what have you got to tell me?'
Lucy groaned. 'All right ... and don't read anything into it, but ...'
'Come on.' Kathleen grew excited. 'I'm waiting.'
'It's nothing really, but there was this man at the station. I've seen him before, but I don't know who he is. But when I got off at the station here, he saw me ... and I rushed away from him.'
Intrigued, Kathleen was now like a dog with a bone. 'Out with it, Lucy girl. What are you not telling me?'
'He recognised me.'
'So, there's more? Go on, get on with it!'
Begrudgingly, Lucy related the incident at the bus stop soon after she'd learned of her husband's affair with her sister. She then described the events at the station today.
'What makes me curious is why two complete strangers would offer to take you for a drink?' Kathleen replied. 'I reckon you did right to run off.'
'I had wondered the very same but, he was so kind and caring good-looking, too and he seemed honest and genuine. And then, like I said, today I got on the train and a few minutes later, he got on. I think he must be a businessman because he seemed to be looking at official kinds of papers. I kept my head down. I was so afraid he might see me.'
'And did he?'
'Yes! When I got off the train he looked straight at me, and I ran away again. I jumped into a taxi and came here, to the hotel.'
'Don't tell me he was waiting at the hotel ... was he?'
'Crikey, no! But, honestly, though, it's spooky to see him twice in as many days. It was all a bit worrying.'
Kathleen thought about everything Lucy had told her, and she now had a question for Lucy: 'Do you want to know what I would have done?' she asked.
'No, tell me.' As if she couldn't already guess.
'I would have encouraged him,' Kathleen admitted. 'I would have smiled and enticed him, and got him to take me out to dinner, and spend lots of money on me. And then, I would flirt outrageously, and dance really close to him, so he could feel the thrust of my b.o.o.bs against his chest. Then, afterwards, when he was all worked up, I'd let him take me to bed, and I would ravish him like he's never been ravished before. After that, when I was ready for off, I'd make sure I left him gagging for more.'
Lucy laughed at that, 'Kathleen Riley!' she chided. 'What are you like? You're a shameless, teasing harlot, that's what you are!'
The two of them giggled before chatting some more. Kathleen remembered speaking to Anne. 'She called me less than an hour since. She was in a bit of a state, because she had not heard from you. When I had to admit that I hadn't heard from you either, she was even more frantic.'
Lucy blamed herself. 'It's my fault. I should have called her the minute I got here.'
'Well, Lucy girl, as soon as I put the phone down, you'd best call her and put her out of her misery. And if you ever see this particular fella again, don't be frightened. Enjoy what he's got to offer. You need to let loose, and show him what you're made of.'