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

When she gave a full smile, as she did now, Kathy could clearly see a number of gaps in her otherwise surprisingly white teeth. ‘Just look at you, dear … such a pretty little thing you are.’ Giving Kathy a smile and a nod, she gestured to the dress and shoes together. ‘I bet you look a treat in this little lot.’

Warming to this dear soul by the minute, Kathy confided, ‘I was really lucky to find them, and at a reasonable price. I need to look smart if I’m to get this job. I’m really keen to stay in West Bay,’ she admitted. ‘When I came here, I wanted to make a brand new start … I wanted to be on my own, away from it all,’ she added, almost to herself.

‘I see. And have you no family?’

Kathy took a moment to reply, and then it was with a bitter taste in her mouth. ‘No,’ she answered, ‘I’ve no family, not to speak of anyway.’

‘You’re like me then, dear. I were an only child, and my parents are long gone. Oh, I’m wed o’ course, but we never had children, more’s the pity.’ Her eyes clouded over. ‘I would have loved a daughter.’ She looked down at Kathy, then glanced round the room. ‘I know this isn’t much to show for a lifetime’s work, but it’s all bought and paid for. It’s provided us a living. But it would have been nice to have children to hand it all down to.’

She gave Kathy a wink. ‘Got a boyfriend, have you, dear?’

Kathy shook her head. ‘No.’

‘What!’ The woman was shocked, ‘A good-looking girl like yourself. Oh well, never mind, dear. I expect once you’re settled in you’ll have more time for that sort of thing.’ Suddenly her face dropped and she seemed unbearably sad. ‘Listen, my dear,’ she began in a warning tone, ‘when you do meet somebody, take your time. Don’t rush into any old relationship, because sometimes they’re not what they seem, and you can get really hurt.’

‘I won’t.’ Kathy suspected from her manner that the poor soul might be talking from experience.

‘Make sure you love him and he loves you … moreover, make sure he respects you as a person. He has to allow you an opinion, otherwise you’ll never feel part of a couple. Instead you’ll feel left out and useless, and you don’t want that, do you?’

She sighed, a long, deep sigh. ‘It’s funny how you let the years go by without seeing things … then, when you come to realise it’s all been a terrible waste, it’s too late to do anything about it.’

Getting up, she pushed her chair back and seemed as before, smiling and wishing Kathy well. ‘I hope you get the job, dear.’

‘Thank you.’ For a few minutes there, Kathy had glimpsed a deep sense of loneliness and regret.

Suddenly, startling them both, a man’s voice boomed out from the far side of the room. ‘Mabel!’ Standing behind the counter, the man was a large, red-faced, angry mound of flesh.

Both Kathy and the woman glanced back. Grimacing and pointing, the man made it plain he was none too pleased at Mabel hob-nobbing with the customers. ‘Get a move on!’ He appeared oblivious to the customers’ curious stares. ‘I can’t do everything myself!’

‘That’s my husband,’ the waitress told Kathy nervously. ‘He’s a miserable old git!’

Suddenly she leant down to confide, ‘I don’t mind telling you, dear … if I were thirty years younger and had a figure like yours, I’d not be working in this dump. I’d be away, somewhere exciting.’ Rolling her eyes, she muttered, ‘Somewhere as far away from that old bugger as I could get.’

‘Mabel! Come on, will you!’

She grimaced. ‘See what I mean?’ Taking out her pencil and pad, she wrote something down and handed it to Kathy. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve much time, especially if you get that job … but I make a nice cherry cake, so if you’re ever down Monk’s Way, you might stop off and visit me. He’s allus down the pub on Friday and Sat’day night,’ she added, ‘and he sleeps it off most of Sunday.’ She handed Kathy the note. ‘It would be nice if you could pop in and have a chat.’

Kathy promised she would pop in if she was ever that way.

As the woman went off, she called out, ‘I never asked your name, dear?’

‘It’s Kathy.’

Mabel laughed. ‘I think you know by now what my name is.’

Just then the man called out, ‘I’ll not tell you again, Mabel. Hurry up! We’ve customers waiting!’

Mabel tutted under her breath. ‘They’ll not be waiting long if you keep yelling and screaming!’

She smiled at Kathy. ‘Good luck with the interview, dear,’ she said, and before Kathy could answer, Mabel was off serving another customer.

The first thing Kathy did when she got home was to wash her new dress. Hanging on the line, it danced and shivered in the summer breeze, its colours bright and refreshed, and looking prettier than when she had first seen it.

She had already cleaned the house before going into Bridport, but now she walked through every room, throwing open windows and letting the breeze wash in. The house already looked better. It had taken hours of scrubbing and washing – and there were none of the new labour-saving devices in place that her mother had in London – but it had been a labour of love for Kathy. When she got to her own bedroom, she leaned out the window, always delighted by what she saw.

Today being Saturday, there were more people round the harbour: mums and dads; children eating ices; old couples sitting on the wall chatting; fishermen with their lines and legs dangling over the edge of the pier; other people busy in their boats – speedboats, fishing boats, small cruisers. The lively scene was a feast to the eyes and a joy to the heart. Kathy loved every minute of it.

‘Hey!’ From the street below, Jasper’s voice interrupted her daydreams. ‘Where’ve yer been, lass? I’ve already called round three times this morning. What ’ave yer been up to?’

‘Hello, Jasper!’ As always, Kathy was pleased to see him. ‘Wait there. I’ll come down.’

Running down the stairs two at a time, she soon reached the bottom and opened the front door. ‘Come in’ – she beckoned him inside – ‘and I’ll tell you what I’ve been up to.’

She hadn’t seen the letter lying on the mat, but the old man caught sight of it out of the corner of his eye. ‘Somebody loves yer,’ he chuckled. Sweeping the envelope up, he followed her into the kitchen, where he dropped it on to the table. ‘Looks like I’m playing at being postman now,’ he joked. ‘You’ll want me mekkin’ me own tea next.’

Taking him up on the roundabout offer, Kathy answered craftily, ‘What a good idea! Lots of milk, one sugar. Thanks, Jasper, you’re a pal.’ She tore open the envelope. ‘I think this is Maggie’s writing.’

‘Yer cheeky little bugger!’ He saw how she was intent on reading the letter and promptly forgave her. ‘Oh, go on then, lass, I’ll mek the tea. And don’t blame me if it’s not to yer liking.’

Putting the kettle on, he grumbled and moaned. ‘While I’m at it, I might as well mek us a few slices o’ toast. After that, happen you’d like me to polish the furniture, or mek the beds. I could even clean the winders … or, I might sweep the yard and give it a wash down. An’ what about the garden … I might as well carry on turning that over while I’m at it.’ Quietly chuckling to himself, he turned to look at her, but she wasn’t even listening. ‘All right then, lass.’ He got busy. ‘Tea and toast coming up.’ By now he knew Kathy’s kitchen well enough to have the tray ready in no time.

‘Now then, young Kathy’ – he made his way to the table – ‘don’t you go telling me the toast is burnt, ’cause it ain’t my fault. It’s that useless grill o’ yourn!’ Shoving the plate of curled-up toast in front of her, he poured them each a cup of tea, and sat himself down, continuing to mutter and complain. ‘I turned it right down, but it still burnt the toast …’

He saw that she was still intently reading the letter, sometimes smiling, sometimes groaning. ‘By! Yer not listening to a word I’m saying,’ he protested.

Raising her head, Kathy’s eyes shone with delight. ‘Oh, it’s good to hear from Maggie!’

‘Is this the lass you told me about?’ he asked. ‘The one who’s allus in and out o’ trouble?’

‘She’s not that bad,’ Kathy laughed, ‘but she is unpredictable. You never know what she’ll be up to next.’ Catching sight of Jasper about to bite off a piece of blackened toast, she was horrified. ‘You’re not going to eat that, are you?’

‘I certainly am,’ he replied, happily chewing, ‘every last bite.’

Kathy took a bite of hers, but couldn’t stomach it. ‘Thanks for the tea,’ she said. ‘Now then, what’s wrong?’

‘What d’yer mean?’ He took a huge bite of his toast and could say no more, for the moment anyway.

‘You said you’d been round three times already this morning,’ she reminded him. ‘So … what’s wrong?’

He took a gulp of his tea, catching his breath when it proved to be too hot. ‘Oh, aye!’ He bit off another piece of toast and commenced chewing, with the words coming out in between each chew. ‘Where’ve yer been?’ Instead of answering her question, he had one for her.

‘I caught the early bus into Bridport,’ she answered. ‘Look!’ She drew his attention to the dress on the line. ‘I bought a new dress for the interview on Monday morning. What do you think?’

He took a peep. ‘I think it’s right pretty.’

‘So, why did you want to see me?’

‘Oh, it’s just that, well … me an’ Tom wondered if you’d like to come out with us this afternoon?’