Visibility wasn’t good but it was possible to see as far as the place where the path emerged from between the dunes. She sat with her back against the damp rock and let her eyes roam unfocused across the beach and the waves.
A movement drew her gaze and she raised her head and screwed up her eyes the better to make out the dark figure across the beach. It wasn’t Dolly or Jim; it was far too tall for either of them. As she watched the man walked a little way forward and turned back and forth as if searching. Dark clothes whipped and slapped around him as he raised a hand to shield his eyes from the wet.
He didn’t go down to the water’s edge or turn and stride out along the sand. He had no dog that she could see. He was alone.
The rain was heavier now and she knew that she would have to move soon as she was soaked through. Although that had been part of the intention it would be irresponsible to stay too long in wet clothes with the cold rain trickling down her back. She could feel the chill and was already looking forward to a warm shower.
For the moment though something kept her in her tiny enclave. Some sixth sense hid her from the figure on the beach and as she watched he turned and climbed back up the dunes. He didn’t use the path but struggled through the tall grass. He bent now and again on the steeper dunes using his hands to help him struggle upwards. He reached the old stone wall and with a final turn to the beach and a quick scan around him he threw one leg over, hoisted himself onto the top and dropped into her garden.
Her heart pounded. What on earth should she do? Did anyone have the right to walk into that land? But even if they did then why approach from the beach? Why not use the gate? She pulled out her phone to call Dolly. Her fingers fluttered on the keys but at the last moment she clicked the off button and replaced the tiny handset in her pocket.
It wasn’t George. She would have recognized him surely, but had he sent someone? Had he found her? Yet how was it possible? She had been so very careful. Tears mingled with the rain running down across her face; tears of fear, shock and frustration. What on earth was she going to do now?
Chapter 15
Pauline pushed out from the dripping rocks. Instead of sliding and slithering down the streaming boulders she searched for handholds to pull herself up the front of the small cliff face. She didn’t want to be exposed on the beach.
Water streamed into her face and her nails broke and split as she scrabbled for safe places to cling on with the ends of her fingers. Her feet kicked and probed for footholds.
She pulled herself over the top and onto the sheep nibbled grass in the meadow. Scurrying to the sopping hedge she made her way down the edge of the field to the garden wall. She was able to crouch beneath it to make her way to the road. Mud sucked and pulled at her squelching shoes as the wind-blown rain slanted into her streaming eyes. The grey day had closed around her now and the delight of just a short while ago was lost in the desperate struggle of the moment.
There was no sign of a car parked on the verge or in the gateway to the field. Now that she was near to the little cottage she was unsure what to do next. The man from the beach wasn’t visible in the garden but he could be round the other side of the building, in the front or indeed inside.
She slid through the front gateway and ran in a half crouch across the path to bob under the little front window. There was no noise that she could make out save the splosh and bubble of the rain in the gutters and drain pipes. She raised her head far enough to be able to peer into the lounge. All seemed undisturbed and empty. At a half run she covered the distance down the side of the house and through the tall gate into the back garden. There was no-one obviously there and she strode across the flagged patio to where it was possible to see into the kitchen which was deserted and calm.
The bolt was fastened on the kitchen door and so Pauline made her way to the front of the house. As she slipped the key into the lock the sound of an engine spun her around and from behind the bus stop two hundred yards up the road a dark car rolled out onto the road and drove past the cottage. She tried to peer inside but it sped past picking up speed and all it was possible to make out was a dark clad figure behind the rain splattered windscreen. As it sped off into the misty distance she stepped inside and slammed the door behind her. Was it possible that this was someone sent by George? Would he really go to the lengths of hiring someone? It was a ludicrous thought. Ordinary people like her weren’t followed by private detectives.
She slid to the floor and let go a sighing breath. What the heck was going on? Her nerves were jangled, her shoes and clothes were filthy and wet and her soaking hair streamed into her eyes. Standing in the hallway she peeled off the sopping outfit and bundled it all together to throw into the kitchen. She would have a hot shower before she sorted out the laundry and stuffed her wet shoes with newspaper.
With the hot water pounding her skin and steam billowing around her she made a huge effort to regain control of her emotions and unscramble the events of the last couple of hours.
She was making a mountain out of a mole hill. A man walking on the beach, even in the rain, wasn’t suspicious. Hadn’t she done the very same thing herself? A man climbing over the garden wall wasn’t innocent behaviour however and a car hidden behind the bus shelter effectively on the pavement was decidedly odd. She would tell Dolly. There was very likely an innocent explanation. Probably it was someone they knew who used the garden as access. She must stop seeing danger everywhere she went.
Chapter 16
Clean and dressed in soft trousers and a sweatshirt Pauline dried her hair and sprayed herself with perfume. Her agitated nerves had settled in the warm steam and pounding spray and as she made her way to the kitchen she felt her world had pretty much righted itself again.
There was still a puzzle to be solved but in reality it probably had nothing to do with her. No-one locally knew who she was and when she spoke to Dolly in the morning no doubt an explanation about the afternoon’s upset would be found and if not, well so be it. She had come to no harm and now felt foolish imagining her desperate dash across the meadow and the ducking and diving behind walls and under hedges.
When her mind began replaying yet again the strange happenings she deliberately pushed them aside. There could be no solution found tonight and what she needed to do was put the worry away and try to have a pleasant evening.
She needed comfort food and she needed wine. Cheese on toast would hit the spot and the bottle of red she had opened the day before.
Once the food was ready she carried it through to the living room and turned on the table lamps and the jazz she had been listening to the night before. With a contented sigh she settled back on the sofa with a plate of bubbling cheese on toast and leaned over to place the glass on the side table.
The food was delicious, exactly what she needed after the upheaval of the day and she closed her eyes to enjoy the moment…
She leaned to put the empty plate beside her and her fingers found a small scrap of paper. She idly picked it up and unfolded it.
Gull’s Rest
Porthelland
Jim and Dolly Teague