Bones Under The Beach Hut

Chapter Thirty-One

Mark Dennis was afraid — tremblingly, shudderingly afraid. They had driven straight from the pub to Seashell Cottage. When the Renault drew up outside, he asked the two women to come to the front door with him. Then he changed his mind and asked Jude to go on her own and check whether Philly Rose really wanted to see him.

As they waited in the car, Carole was aware of his body convulsing with bone-deep sobs. She was embarrassed and couldn't think of anything to say.

Their wait felt long, but it was only a couple of minutes. Then Jude came out on to the street and said through the Renault's open window, 'She wants to see you, Mark.'

Reassured but still scared, he again asked them to come into the cottage with him. The two women felt a little strange as they escorted Mark through the front door, which Philly held open, but such was the emotional tension between the two young people, they could recognize the need for some kind of catalyst for this first explosive contact.

Awkwardness filled the tiny hall while Philly closed the door. Wordlessly, she ushered her three guests into the kitchen/dining area. The uneasy silence continued until their hostess offered tea.

'Yes,' said Mark very formally. 'Yes, thank you, Philly. I'd like a cup of tea.'

Carole and Jude refused the offer. 'We should really be on our way,' said Jude.

'No, don't go!' The plea from Mark Dennis was instinctive, and still frightened.

'I think we should.' Jude looked at the two of them, facing each other, frozen, their eyes avoiding engagement. 'Come on, Carole. We'll see ourselves out.'

In the Renault on the way back to Fethering, Carole asked, 'What do you reckon? The minute we left, they fell into each other's arms and love's young dream was re-established?'

'I hope so,' said Jude. But she didn't sound sure.

'Well, at least that's one mystery solved,' Carole observed, 'but I can't believe Mark had anything to do with Robin Cutter.'

'No.' Jude was thoughtful, abstracted.

'So I suppose it's another visit tomorrow morning to Smalting Beach. Hope that Reginald Flowers's bronchitis has cleared up, assuming that that's why he wasn't there today.'

'Hm.'

'Are you up for a return visit?'

Shaking herself out of her reverie, Jude said, 'What? Tomorrow? Saturday? No, sorry, I'm committed to a Past Life Regression Workshop in Brighton.'

A lot of knee-jerk responses sprang to Carole's lips, but she restricted herself to a rather acid, 'Are you? Well,' she continued, 'I'll see if I can get a chance to talk to Reginald Flowers.'