CHAPTER 29
Hot was so exhausted after his walk that within ten seconds of eating his dinner, he was flat-out under his favourite smelly blanket in the corner of the lounge. Rosa was glad it was a winter Sunday; that meant the shop could remain closed until tomorrow. In the kitchen, she made a cup of tea and checked her watch. At least she had a bit of time before DC Clarke arrived. The trouble with the policeman, Rosa decided, was that there were so few crimes committed in Cockleberry Bay and the surrounding areas that she reckoned he made things up simply so he could pretend he was Hercule Poirot for a day.
Opening the drawer to get a teaspoon, she caught sight of the crumpled envelope that had fallen out of Lucas’s pocket. The words My Lucas were scribbled in black biro on the front, and it had been opened. With curiosity overcoming her scruples, Rosa pulled a typed letter out of the envelope.
Snuggling under the mauve velvet throw on the comfy cream sofa, she took a big slurp from her I love Dachshunds mug, put it on the side table and began to read.
My dear darling second boy,
You will be reading this because I’m not here any more. You will also have found my will, thank goodness. Simple. Just an equal split between you and Tom, and you two can decide what happens to the pub. Me and your dad spent many happy years here, but if you’d rather the cash than the business, I totally understand. Mrs Treborick from the wool shop has taken the cats already. I know how your dear nephew is allergic and your life is way too busy for pets.
I hope that my death was a peaceful one and you didn’t have to watch by my bedside for weeks on end. The diagnosis of my cancer was terminal when I got my first results. People may say that I was selfish not to seek treatment, but my motive was the opposite: to spare you boys from seeing me suffer. My mum, your gran, as you know, died of cancer too. It was the single most horrific thing that I have ever gone through. The truth is, I never got over it. I was always so sad that you two amazing sons of mine never got to meet her as she was taken so young. She wasted away in front of us like a little bird. Her heart and soul were as big as any lion’s, but the wretched disease took hold of her body and eventually killed her.
We loved you, me and your dad, we loved both of you very much. I’d never admit it openly, but I missed him so much after he died. Silly old sod. Despite our bickering there was a love of sorts there. My yin to his yang, or as he used to say, my rottweiler to his puppy dog. Wore his heart on his sleeve, your dad did. I think that’s where you get your soft side from, my boy. My heart was hard and I kept it inside, not on show. Maybe the death of your gran caused that, or maybe I was just scared to show my feelings in case they weren’t reciprocated.
Well, I want to show those feelings now though, lad. To say that my love for you is infinite. To urge you to please live on with happiness. There’s half of me in you, you know, so keep flying the flag for the Hannafores. Maybe you’ll have some little ones of your own, one day. That will be lovely. You tell them that their gran will always be looking down and cheering them on from the side-lines too.
‘Wow,’ Rosa said aloud, with tears streaming down her face. This was just so personal to Luke, and so not the Sheila Hannafore she had created in her mind, but she felt compelled to read on, however heartbreaking the contents.
I may have seen you since writing this letter, I may not. If I haven’t then do not feel guilty. There is an expression ‘Listen to the woman when she looks at you, not when she talks to you.’ I saw the way Rosa Larkin or Smith or whatever you want to call her used to look at you. I genuinely believe that she loved you as much as you loved her. But life is already written, son, it really is. Affairs of the heart rarely run smooth. I always knew she would break your heart.
‘Hardly fair,’ Rosa commented and carried on reading.
Rosa is not a bad person. Rosa is a survivor. There is part of the girl that I admire, but don’t fall for her charms any more. She’s had a troubled upbringing and she will forever struggle with temptation, not because she wants to, but because it’s in her. Help her. Set her free to enjoy happiness with that husband of hers, although I think that you may have selflessly done this already. If you can bear it, she will make a far better friend than foe.
I do understand. Unrequited love is the torment from hell! All I will say, my darling son, is that real reciprocated love, when nurtured, never fails.
So, I sign out not with a goodbye, but a ‘see you later’. Make every second count, Lucas, my darling. Don’t sweat the small stuff and remember, wherever I am, I will be willing you on and loving you and Tom with all my heart, just as I have since the day you left my body and entered my heart.
Yours forever,
Mum X
Rosa’s sobs were stifled by a loud knocking on the door and then the familiar voice of DC Clarke shouting through the letterbox downstairs. He was early. Could he not just ring the doorbell, like everyone else?
She sniffed, wiped her eyes with an old tissue she had in her pocket and made her way downstairs.
‘Hello, Rosa. Ooh, I couldn’t half do with a cuppa. We’ve run out of teabags down at the station. And a few of those homemade biscuits you had before would go down a treat,’ were the portly policeman’s first words to her.
Rosa managed a secret grin. If Titch were here, she’d be beside herself. DC Clarke really was the greediest man. On previous visits, when he was investigating a fire started in the back kitchen of the Corner Shop, he had managed to ingest half a tin full of Mary’s homemade delights. His lack of a waistline was proof of his sweet tooth.
She led him upstairs to the flat and then went into the kitchen to make him his tea.
‘Here.’ Rosa handed him a packet of plain digestives.
His face fell. ‘None of those nice ones you usually have?’
‘No,’ Rosa replied indignantly. ‘Not today. On your own then?’
‘Yes, I’ve left Collins at the pub.’ DC Clarke sat on the smaller sofa opposite Rosa. After an initial spate of barking and sniffing at the policeman’s shoes, Hot was now back snoozing, one eye open, guarding his mistress from his dog bed.
‘So, the officer on duty on the night of the thirty-first of October this year tells me that you found Mrs Hannafore. Is that correct?’
‘Yes. I suddenly thought that I should go over and see Sheila and take her some of our Halloween cakes.’
‘Ah yes,’ the policeman said reflectively, ‘the witchy ones. My granddaughter brought some home for me, and very delicious they were too, thank you. Now, you always thought Sheila Hannafore a bit of a witch herself, didn’t you, Rosa?’
‘I…er…she wasn’t my favourite person, no.’
‘So why on a dark October night would you suddenly decide to go and see her out of the blue?’
‘She was ill, and I didn’t like the thought of her being there in the Ship on her own. And what exactly are you implying here, DC Clarke?’ Rosa demanded. ‘I was the one who went down those cellar steps, called an ambulance and comforted her while the poor woman was dying.’
‘After you pushed her down them, you mean?’
‘What!’ Rosa jumped up, knocking her empty teacup to the floor as she did so. ‘Get out of here.’ She put her hand to her stomach.