Caroline Anderson - The Rebel of Penhally Bay

‘Not chocolate?’

He gave a short laugh. ‘No, Mum, not chocolate. Grapes are good for you and, besides, I like them.’ He helped himself to a handful and settled back in the chair, one foot crossed over the other knee. ‘Anyway, I want to talk to you. About Jamie.’

‘Oh, Sam, where is he?’ she slurred, her eyes welling. ‘I thought you’d bring him.’

‘No, sorry, I had to walk the dog, and when I got back he’d gone out—he sent me a text, though. He had to be at school, he said.’

‘He doesn’t want to see me.’

He didn’t tell her that the thought had occurred to him, too. ‘No, it’s legit. I rang the school—it’s a careers evening and he’s apparently volunteered to help out. I’m going over there as soon as I leave you to make sure he’s there and talk to the staff.’

‘Oh, dear,’ she said ruefully.

‘Mmm. I’m sure they’ll have lots to say, but so have I. Don’t worry, I’ll sort Jamie out. You just concentrate on getting better.’

She gave a funny little laugh, then her face creased. ‘How’s Digger? Does he miss me?’

Sam smiled. ‘I think he does, but he’s enjoying his walks. We had a lovely run on the beach this morning at dawn.’ Down to the other beach, to sit on the stumps of the old cabin and torture himself with the memories…

‘Don’t let him off the lead. He’ll go down a hole.’

Sam laughed softly. ‘I do remember you telling me how he got his name. I’ll keep him on the lead, don’t worry.’

‘So—did you go to the surgery?’ she asked after the slightest pause, and he braced himself for the inevitable questions.

‘Yes, I saw Nick.’

‘And Gemma?’

He felt his mouth tighten and consciously relaxed it. ‘Yes, I saw Gemma. She sends her love. She seems to know you quite well.’

‘Oh, she does. She runs the cont…’

She trailed off, exasperated by her uncooperative tongue, and Sam put in, ‘The continuing care clinic?’

‘Mmm. She does my blood pressure. She’s beautiful, isn’t she? Pretty girl.’

‘I didn’t notice,’ he lied. ‘I was a bit busy.’

God, it was a wonder his nose wasn’t longer than Pinocchio’s! He put the grapes back on his mother’s bed table before he crushed them all inadvertently, moved her newspaper and picked up her weakened left hand. ‘Come on, let’s do some physio. We need to keep these fingers moving.’

She shook her head. ‘They just won’t.’

‘They will. Keep trying. Here, come on, I’ll help you,’ he said, and, taking her fingers in his, he started working on them, giving himself something to do apart from conjuring Gemma’s image into his crazed mind.

But it didn’t work, her image was still there larger than life, her soft, wounded, wary eyes torturing him, so after a few minutes he put his mother’s hand down and stood up. ‘Right, I’m off to the school to sort out young Jamie. I’ll see you tomorrow. Be good.’

‘What else?’ she said sadly, and her eyes filled again, ripping at his conscience. ‘Bring him—come for longer. I miss you, Sam. You don’t know…’

His conscience stabbed him again, and he sighed softly. ‘I do. You tell me often enough. But my life’s not here, Mum.’

‘Could be.’

‘No. No, it couldn’t. Just the moment you’re better and I’m given the all-clear by the physios, I’m going back to Africa.’

Her fingers tightened on his, her right hand clutching at him in desperation. ‘No, Sam! Don’t! You can’t go back!’

That was probably true, although not the way she meant it, but he wasn’t giving in. Not yet. ‘Mum, I have to go,’ he repeated, and, freeing his hand, he dropped a swift kiss on her cheek and walked out.

‘Sam! I didn’t expect to see you here. It’s the last place!’

‘Well, ditto,’ he said, and his smile looked strained. ‘Have you seen Jamie?’

‘He’s here somewhere,’ Gemma said, trying to control her see-sawing emotions. ‘Doing the name badges and the drinks for the parents? He will have done the careers thing last year, so he’s only helping. I don’t like to be unkind, but it doesn’t sound like him.’

‘Maybe it was just a reason not to go and see Mum. He hasn’t been in yet. I think he’s scared, but while I’m here I need to speak to his teachers and find out what I can about him hanging around with Gary Lovelace.’

‘Well, Lachlan D’Ancey’s here, he’ll fill you in. He’s Chief Constable now, but he just comes to support the school and sell the police force. Nick Tremayne’s here, too. If Lachlan’s busy I expect Nick could use some help, there are always lots of people thinking of studying medicine.’

He shook his head. ‘I don’t think the school would be interested in my support. I wasn’t exactly their star pupil.’

‘That’s rubbish, Sam, you got four As at A level!’

‘Only because I was constantly being grounded.’

She smiled slightly, remembering the tales of how rebellious he’d been, how he’d pushed everyone to the limit of their patience, worried his mother senseless and alienated half of the town.

Which, of course, had only made him even more attractive.

She dragged her eyes from Sam and looked at the girl who was hovering behind him. ‘Hi. Did you want to see me?’

‘Um—yes, please. I’m thinking of going into nursing, and I wondered if you could tell me about it.’

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Sam lift his hand in farewell as he walked away, and she stifled a sigh of regret.

Foolish, foolish woman. It’s over. Forget it.

But she couldn’t, and for the rest of the evening her eyes were constantly searching for him, and every time they found him, her silly, stupid heart would lurch against her ribs.

It might be over, but apparently she couldn’t forget it. Not for the last nearly eleven years, and certainly not now, with Sam right here under her nose, his presence reminding her of everything she’d lost…

‘SAM—good to see you.’

He stifled a wry grin at the blatant lie from the man who’d had altogether too much to do with him in his youth. ‘Hello, Lachlan. How are you?’

‘Very well. Great, actually. Married again.’

Sam hadn’t known he’d got unmarried, but he wasn’t surprised that yet another thing had happened in Penhally without him knowing. He’d done his best to distance himself, so it was hardly rocket science, and he made some trite and socially acceptable remark and then Lachlan brought the conversation, not unexpectedly, around to Jamie.

‘Your brother’s getting himself in a bit of bother these days,’ he murmured. ‘You want to have a word with him. He’s going to end up with a criminal record if he goes on like this, and it’s a crying shame because he’s a good lad really. Sharp as a tack, which is half his trouble, of course, like it was yours. What he needs is a good role model.’

‘Well, don’t look at me,’ Sam said with a low laugh. ‘I’m the last person to give him advice.’

‘I disagree. You’re just the person—he reminds me a lot of you.’

‘What—loud and unruly?’

‘No—lost,’ he said, and Sam looked away, uncomfortable with Lachlan’s all too accurate interpretation of his youthful emotions. ‘You need to get him out of the influence of that young Gary Lovelace. He’s a nasty piece of work—God alone knows what Jamie sees in him, but he’s leading your little brother into all sorts of mischief.’

Sam straightened. ‘Not drugs?’

‘Not that we know of, but I shouldn’t be surprised. But Gary’s a thief, and a bully, like his father and his little brother, and you need to get Jamie away from him before something bad happens.’