Chapter 31

Tea, Vicar?

 

 

‘You’ll stay for some tea, Vicar?’

Marian had found some clothes that Cass could borrow, a pair of jogging bottoms and a shirt of Hal’s, she felt the warmth of Hal’s shirt around her and she could smell his aftershave on the material. Cass had been about to go home, but Marian wasn’t going to let her go just yet.

‘The doctor said we had to keep an eye on you. I’d like to make sure you’ve had something nice and hot to eat before you go back to that cottage on your own.’

‘I couldn’t impose on you.’

‘Don’t be daft. One of the bar staff is in to keep the bar ticking over; we don’t start doing meals until 6.30 anyway, so I’m not needed in the kitchen until then. I’ve got a big pot of turkey curry on the go in my slow cooker, there’s more than enough for you to have something. You’re not vegetarian or anything, are you Vicar?’

‘No, I’m not. But I couldn’t -’

‘Nonsense!’

‘I don’t think I should, Hal might not want me to, right now,’ she said.

‘Our Hal won’t mind. And if he does, then he can eat somewhere else, can’t he?’

Cass gave in gracefully; she had to admit that right now a plate of curry that someone else had cooked and that didn’t come out of a packet in the freezer sounded quite appealing, she had to hope that Hal would be able to face her.

Marian led the way downstairs and through a door next to the staircase which was painted with the word “Private” in swirly blue letters. They passed the door into the pub kitchen behind the bar, and then through a heavy wooden door at the other end of the corridor into the 1960s extension, which housed Jack and Marian’s living accommodation. There was a large open-plan living room with a kitchen-dining area in the corner, the warm spicy aroma of curry mixed with the smell of the little Christmas tree in the corner. It wasn’t grand, but it was warm and cosy; the furniture had seen better days but it was clean and well cared for. Hal had not gone anywhere, he was sitting in an armchair beside the slate fireplace that must have been the height of fashion in the 1960s, and Jack was stirring a pan of rice on the cooker.

Hal looked up as they came in. He looked tired and he flashed her a quick, apologetic smile and she began to relax. Marian took over the rice pan and Jack headed off to the bar, leaving the two of them alone by the fireplace where Marian had indicated Cass should sit in the place opposite Hal.

He looked at the bright blue shirt of his that she wore. ‘It suits you,’ he said quietly to her when his parents were out of earshot, ‘better than all that black. I’m sorry about before, that wasn’t the answer and I couldn’t -’ but whatever he had been about to say was cut short as Jack came back into the room with a drink and offered Cass a pint to go with her dinner. She still felt very shaky so she didn’t think alcohol would be the best idea right now and asked for a cup of tea instead.

It was nice to sit down at the corner dinner table with them for a proper family meal. It was something she had rarely done as a child, her mother preferred to eat alone and Cass had usually had tea in front of the television on her own with Blue Peter for company.

‘Any word from the hospital?’ Cass asked after a while.

‘We’ve heard nowt,’ Marian answered her, ‘Probably won’t ‘til tomorrow now.’

‘Well, if it weren’t for you two she wouldn’t be in that hospital, she’d be in a wooden box by now,’ Jack said morbidly.

‘Ay, you should be proud of yourselves,’ Marian added, starting to clear the plates from the table.

‘It’s the vicar who should be proud. She was the one who stopped her; she was the one who saved her life,’ Hal said, looking straight at her from his seat opposite.

‘You came for us. If it hadn’t been for you we’d both have drowned,’ Cass said, meeting his eye. ‘And I know how hard it must have been for you.’

He shrugged and looked away.

‘Eeh, well, all’s well that ends well!’ said Marian, chirpily. ‘I’m sure she’s going to be all right. If she wasn’t, we’d know by now. No news is good news, that’s what they say, isn’t it? She’s going to be all right. You’re all going to be all right.’ She looked from Hal to Cass and back again to her son. ‘God was looking out for you, Vicar.’

‘I don’t know whether God had anything to do with it. It was mostly Hal.’

‘He knows what he’s doing, does Hal. He knows to respect the sea,’ Jack said as he stood up to leave the table. ‘He’s always had that sense. Not like his brother. Rob always thought he could master the sea, but in the end it mastered him.’

‘Not now, Jack,’ Marian said. ‘Can’t you see the vicar don’t want to talk about stuff like that now? Go on, get yourself off behind the bar, it’ll be getting busy soon.’

‘Ay. Ay you’re right. Don’t mind me, Vicar.’ Jack seemed to shake himself. ‘I’ll be off.’

‘I think I’d like to go home now,’ Cass said. ‘I’m exhausted.’

‘Our Hal’ll find you a coat – get her that green one of mine, Hal, cupboard under the stairs – Your coat is past saving, and you can’t be going out without one.’

Hal disappeared out of the room to find her a coat.

‘Thanks, Marian, for everything. You’ve been so kind.’ Marian put the pile of plates back down on the table and came around the table to hug her.

‘You did a very brave thing this afternoon, Vicar. There’s many of our men wouldn’t have done what you did, going after her like that without a thought for yourself.’

‘I didn’t have time to think about it,’ Cass said.

Marian held her at arm’s length for a minute.

‘You’re a good lass. Our Hal thinks the world of you, you know. It would be -’

Whatever Marian had been about to say to her was cut short as Hal arrived with the green coat in his hand.

‘I think you’d better make sure the vicar gets home safely, Hal,’ Marian suggested. ‘I’d go myself but the kitchen opens in a few minutes, I’ve got to get to work now.’

 

He took her arm down the steps from the pub, her legs shaking and sore. It was warmer than she had expected; clouds had replaced the high, cold sky; heavy clouds that blotted out the stars.

They started out across the fish-quay.

‘Are you OK?’ Cass asked him. ‘About earlier?’

‘I just need a bit of time to get things straight, that’s all. I’m ashamed of myself, you know. It isn’t that I didn’t want you, believe me … but it was the wrong time, for the wrong reasons and I’m sorry. I need to get it all straight in my head.’

‘You don’t need to apologise, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for.’

‘I do. But never mind that now. I’m more worried about Anna, and you. Are you OK now?’

She hadn’t wanted to talk about how she felt over the cosy pub tea, nor in the unused bedroom, but now, alone on the quay it seemed easier – easier to talk, but harder to deal with; the sound of the waves against the harbour wall bringing back the horror that had engulfed her when the waves went over her head. She found that she was trembling.

‘It’s just starting to hit home, it’s all seemed a bit unreal until now – I thought I was going to die,’ she said quietly, her voice shaking. They were alone in the darkness as they had been that night in the beach hut it was easier to talk to him now. Everything seemed more real, but she was so tired that even talking was an effort. ‘I couldn’t fight the sea any more. If you hadn’t been there …’

‘But I was there.’

‘You came into the water to get us. It must have been so hard for you.’

‘I didn’t even think about it. I knew I had to get to you both before … I couldn’t let it happen again.’ They walked side-by-side over the cobbles of the quay, a safe distance between them, no danger of their fingers brushing against each other, safe, sensible, sober.

‘People keep saying I was brave. But if you hadn’t come when you did I’d have let her die. I knew that if I let her go I might be able to save myself and I let her go, Hal. What kind of person does that make me? I would have let her drown and saved myself. I wasn’t brave; when it came to it I was a coward. Again. Like when my mother died.’ She looked over towards where the sea was, invisible in the darkness, but always there. She could still taste it, as if it was still inside her, that horrible salty tang of the icy water that had nearly swept them all away.

‘You held her up as long as you could. And don’t forget that you went into the water after her in the first place. There are stronger people than you in this village who wouldn’t have done that.’

He took her arm again as they walked and she was glad of the support, the trembling in her body started to subside a little bit when he held her arm.

‘And I understand.  That’s what they said to me, after Rob. They told me how brave I was going in after him, trying to find him. But they didn’t know what a coward I was, that I hadn’t gone after him at first, that I could have saved him if I – ‘

‘Stop it Hal! Don’t say that! You’re not a coward; you just didn’t know what was going to happen to Rob. You were never a coward, and now you’ve proved it – you saved Anna when I didn’t, and I -’

She suddenly stopped. They had turned into Maiden’s Yard, and there, half way up the alleyway in front of them, beneath the light on the corner was the figure of a woman wrapped in a shawl and long skirt, looking down the alley right at them.

‘It’s her. It’s Polly, can you see her?’ Cass gasped in panic, pulling her arm away from him. ‘She’s come back because of Anna; she still wants Anna.’

Hal looked down at her, with a puzzled expression. Then, unaccountably for such a fearful moment, he smiled and said: ‘Evening sky.’

For a moment, Cass wondered what the hell was going on. Why was he talking about the sky? Could he not see the ghostly figure? The ghostly figure, which was now advancing towards them?

‘Hal!’ she gasped, catching his arm in fear, trying to step backwards, legs giving way in panic and tiredness but he held onto her.

The ghostly shawled figure was silhouetted, the light of the lamp behind it. Strange that it didn’t look at all transparent, as Cass would have expected, in fact the apparition was surprisingly substantial.

‘Hal, my darling! Happy Christmas!’

A warm, rich southern voice, hazy with cigarette smoke.

‘Happy Christmas, Skye!’

And into the light of the quayside illuminations stepped a tall woman in her late fifties with flowing white hair wearing a South American style poncho and a long fringed, quilted peasant skirt.  A cigarette glowed in her hand and the scent of tobacco smoke drifted on the breeze as the two of them embraced, Skye holding her cigarette carefully away from him.

‘This is Skye – Windrush Cottage belongs to Skye and her partner Julie, they’re artists.’

Cass was momentarily speechless.

‘I’ve seen you up and down to Maidensbower Cottage a few times when I’ve been out having a quick smoke. Julie don’t like it if I smoke in the cottage, we rent it out in the summer, you see. You’re the one with the dog-collar, aren’t you? Vicar or some such?’ The tone of disapproval in her voice was clear as she took another drag on her cigarette.

‘Yes … yes, I am … Pleased to meet you, Skye. I’m Cass. She held out a hand formally, which Skye ignored.

‘Really? Well, I got to say you never seemed that keen on it before. Few times I’ve tried to speak to you, you bloody well up and run away, you and the little redhead.’

‘I …’ Cass didn’t know where to start. ‘I’m so sorry, I …’

‘I think,’ Hal said, a hint of amusement in his voice, ‘that the Reverend here might have come to the wrong conclusion about you.’

‘Well, nothing new there. Last vicar was the same, nose in the air, telling us that we would go to hell if we didn’t mend our sinful ways.’

‘No! That’s not it at all, I’ve made a stupid mistake,’ Cass said. ‘It’s not that. I don’t believe for a moment that you’ll go to hell.’

‘But you don’t approve of Julie and me. I get it, love, don’t worry, you church lot don’t. You stay out of our way and we’ll leave you well alone.’ She threw down the cigarette, grinding it out with her foot against the cobbles.

‘No!’ Oh Lord, Cass didn’t have the strength for this right now, not on top of everything else that had happened today, but she had to put this woman right about her. ‘I don’t think like that. All Jesus asks of us is that we should love one another, that’s the important thing. And I didn’t run away from you because I thought you were a lesbian, I ran away from you because I thought you were a ghost.’

Skye gave a chuckle, which turned into a full-blown laugh, warm and rich and smoky. Hal joined in, and eventually so did Cass.

‘Fine bloody ghost I’d make!’ Skye said. ‘Oh my days, never heard anything like it! Wait ‘til I tell Julie! Why on earth did you think that?’

‘Well, it was always at night I saw you. I thought you were wearing Victorian clothes, and you always appeared in the same place, and disappeared so quickly … And Anna was getting so hysterical too. I’m so very, very sorry I was so rude.’

It sounded so stupid now and, talking to Skye, Cass couldn’t believe that she had allowed herself to come to such a ludicrous conclusion. Of course, there was no such thing as a ghost, how could there be? 

‘Apology accepted, love.’ She reached out and patted Cass’s hand.  ‘And any friend of Hal’s is a friend of mine; he’s a good ‘un, is Hal. You could do a lot worse.’