‘Oh Nate. I knew someone was in there. Bless you for talking to her for so long. I bet that meant a lot.’
‘She said I reminded her of her younger son. Said he was a little terror at times too.’
‘He is that.’ Rosa smiled.
Nate was anguished. ‘What I really need to know is, would she have lived if I had called the ambulance sooner? Am I responsible for her death?’
‘No,’ Rosa soothed, and not knowing the answer herself, for his sake she lied. ‘She was terminally ill, and it was a bad fall.’
Nate hardly seemed to hear. ‘I literally felt sick,’ he went on feverishly, ‘mainly because when I heard the rumours that she might have been pushed, I knew the police would pin her death on me if they got to know I’d been there. I then felt so terrible because you were involved. The last thing I’d want to do is hurt you, Rosa. I was a coward, as I’ve said, and ran away – but then realised that I had nowhere to run to, and no money. So I came to see you, to find out what was going on – and that was when matey boy tried to kick the living shit out of me.’ He gave a reluctant grin. ‘You’ve got plenty of knights in shining armour, I can tell you that.’
He got off the sofa, knelt beside her and held her hand. ‘I need to tell you something else too, and I’m not proud of this either.’
‘Bloody hell, Nate, I don’t know if I can cope with any more.’ Rosa struggled to her feet. ‘I’ll make us a cup of tea and you can carry on.’
‘No, let me do that, it’s the least I can do.’
‘Check on the tumble drier while you’re out there too – see how your clothes are doing. One sugar, please.’
Nate came back with two mugs of tea and sat down again. With Josh being so broad and tall and he being short and slender, he looked comical in Josh’s grey-striped oversized dressing-gown. His hair was drying now into tight dark curls, his grey eyes bloodshot from fatigue and from being punched.
‘Before you start, I saw your dad,’ Rosa remembered suddenly. ‘He came to look for you at the fireworks.’
‘Shit, really?’ Nate went pale. ‘You saw him?’
‘Yes.’
‘I borrowed someone’s phone, said I was in trouble, then realised him coming to fetch me wasn’t “standing on my own two feet”, as he always professes I should, so I dumped the call.’
‘How did he know you were here?’
‘I dunno. Maybe he called the number back and asked them – who knows?’
‘So, do you have a mum too?’
‘Too many questions, Rosa.’
‘It’s quite a simple one.’
‘They got divorced when I was little. She went off with some right numpty and I never forgave her. I lived with Dad, but I was such a handful, he sent me to boarding school. We lived in London then, but when I was done with school, he decided to move his funeral business to North Devon. People die everywhere, so it’s an easy one to set up.’ Nate managed a smile. ‘I didn’t lie about everything, Rosa.’
Rosa shook her head. ‘Don’t lie to me, ever again.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Nate replied quietly.
Rosa was still puzzled. ‘So you did live in London… Are you absolutely sure we haven’t met before?’
‘It’s a big place, that London.’
Rosa then laughed. ‘I got around.’ She reached for her bag that was at the end of the sofa and rummaged inside. ‘He said to call him – here’s his card.’
‘It’s funny,’ Nate told her. ‘I may not have seen him for a while, but I know that mobile number off by heart.’
‘You get on with him then?’ Rosa decided to wean the inevitable out of him little by little.
‘He’s a good man. Slightly eccentric but his values are all there.’
Hearing that, she said very gently, ‘Why don’t you go home, then?’
‘I will now. It’s the other thing, you see – that’s why I’m really here.’ Nate’s face dropped.
‘Let me go to the loo and then you tell me more.’ Rosa stood up. ‘You wouldn’t even get this sort of drama on the television all in one evening.’ She smiled at the now anxious lad. On her return, her face told a different story too.
‘What’s the matter?’ Nate asked. ‘Something’s wrong, isn’t it?’
‘It’s going to be all right, but I need to call my mum. God, I wish I’d learned to drive.’ Rosa’s voice was deliberately controlled and calm.
‘What is it?’
‘Just a bit of blood. I’m sure it’s nothing.’ But remembering back to the awful night when she’d had the miscarriage not long after her wedding, a lone tear fell down her cheek.
‘That’s it: you are not losing this baby. And this time, I am ringing for an ambulance straightaway.’ Nate’s panic was evident.
‘It will be quicker to drive. I know – I’ll ring Jacob. He can take me. You look after Hot, OK? Here are some spare keys and a fiver. Go and top up your phone so I can reach you, then stay here. I’ll be back soon, I’m sure.’
‘Oh my God, Rosa, you can’t lose this baby,’ Nate repeated.
‘I won’t. It’s all going to be OK.’ Rosa grabbed her phone and keys and threw them into her handbag. Her visitor was now practically hyperventilating. ‘Nate, what is wrong with you? Calm down. You’re stressing me out now.’
The young man put both hands through his short, curly brown hair and began to cry, saying over and over again, ‘You can’t lose this baby!’
‘Nate, stop this.’ Rosa took hold of his wrists. ‘You really must get a grip because I have to go.’
‘I’m trying to explain.’ Nate’s battered face looked tortured. ‘But it’s all coming out wrong. You can’t lose this baby, Rosa, because…’ Then, in one short sentence he confirmed the enormous truth that Rosa already suspected. ‘Because I’m going to be his or her uncle.’
CHAPTER 47
Sara whistled as she opened up the café. The recent dreary November weather had been replaced by a wonderful sunny and crisp morning. Everyone seemed to smile a bit more when the sun was out, she thought. Even the bread delivery man, whose face often resembled that of a basset hound, managed a hearty hello.
Vegan Vera strutted in and plonked her designer handbag onto a table overlooking the beach, her matching designer purse in her hand.
‘Oh hi, Bergamot,’ Sara said politely. ‘How are you?’ The response wasn’t quite what she’d expected.
‘God, I could kill for some fucking bacon,’ the moody redhead grumbled. ‘You know how people say “I need a drink” when they are stressed? Well, I need meat. My husband or soon-to-be ex-husband – he just doesn’t get it. How am I supposed to survive on the pissing pittance of an allowance he’s offering me? How, tell me that, you!’
Sara still winced at her foul language, but was now so used to her boring, consistent rhetoric, she just let it all go over her head.
The angry one was mithering on: ‘He’s still shagging that fat bitch of a housekeeper too. I hope she’s got bloody syphilis.’ She blew out a noisy breath. ‘Never sign a pre-nup, however they sugar-coat it, darling.’