Fleeting emotions flitted through Miriam’s brain.
“Dumb motherfucker! Now what the fuck do I do for food?” she said, sitting on the bed.
PC John Lindsay had dealt with many death messages, and never had he dealt with anyone so immune to feelings.
“It may be he’s fine and suffering from a mental episode. Please notify us if you leave Falmouth, giving us a contact address and number.”
“Can I have his credit cards; I need to get some more food?”
PC Lindsay looked at Mary, who had to look away.
“I’m sorry, these are sealed as evidence, for if he has died, they would be rendered useless in any case. I’m not permitted to return these to anyone but the named owner. That way we can be sure that no fraud can take place. We also need his photograph and other details to assist us with our enquiries. Do you have no money at all?”
“I have my own cards and some dollars, but…. shit, this goddamn holiday was his stupid idea, so why the fuck should I pay for anything?”
“If you don’t want to use your cards in the cash point, then I suggest you go to the bank in the morning and change some foreign currency or use your card to obtain some legal tender.”
“Legal tender? Just what’s wrong with my dollars, anyways?”
“Madam, we don’t use dollars in the United Kingdom, and never have,” the officer said, realising that he was dealing with an alien intelligence.
“Why the hell not?”
“Because, when the United States declared independence all those years ago, the pound ceased to be legal tender in America, as they invented their own money and called them dollars. You don’t take pounds and we don’t take dollars.”
This information was too much for Miriam’s limited brain to fathom, so she went quiet.
Mary came to the rescue.
“You don’t have to worry, as we’ll simply put the meal tonight on your bill, in any case. It’s the way we work. If you like, I’ll take you to the bank so you can get some pounds.”
Miriam looked at her, nodding blankly.
Taking this as the end of the interview, PC John Lindsay took the opportunity to escape, as did Mary, closing Miriam’s door behind them. They went downstairs together.
“Can you believe that woman?” Mary asked.
“If I was married to her, I’d have topped myself years ago. She’s a bloody nightmare!”
At that moment, a pretty dark haired girl in her late teens walked in.
“Hello, can I help you?” Mary asked.
“Do you have any single rooms?” the girl asked. She had a local accent.
“Yes, can you give me a moment? I’ve just got to see the officer off,” Mary said.
“No probs,” the girl replied, with a smile.
“So, shall I call you if he turns up?” Mary asked PC Lindsay.
“Yes, but I doubt he will. The note was very specific. He’d just had enough, his heart was failing, his wife was nagging him to death, and so, he just wanted to end it all. The thought of being stuck in the same apartment as her for the rest of his life drove him over the edge.”
“I don’t blame him. I’ve only just met her, and I’m already wishing she was dead!”
They chuckled for a moment and then the officer left. As he passed the girl, PC Lindsay recognised her from the cliff top, so he smiled at her. The girl smiled back.
“Are you sure you never saw him?” he asked.
“Quite sure. Sorry.”
John nodded and left.
“Right, young lady, now how long do you want it for?” Mary asked.
“Just a couple of nights. My uncle is redecorating my room and I came home from college early, so I thought I’d hang about in town while I had the chance.”
“Fine, that’s forty pounds a night, I’m afraid. It’s the season, but that does include breakfast.”
“That’s okay; he gave me the money for three nights at least.”
Tamsyn handed over eighty pounds and Mary passed the register over to her.
“Sign the book, dear, as we need to keep a record.”
Tamsyn shut her eyes for a moment and then wrote:
Tamsyn Morrghan, Penhallow Farm, Perranarworthal, Cornwall.
“Ah, a local girl?” said Mary, with a smile.
“Yup.”
“Do you want supper tonight?”
It was seven o’clock, but Tamsyn’s belly was full of fish and chips.
“No, thanks, I had something earlier. What’s up with the police?”
“We’ve an American couple staying. They only flew in this morning, and the husband has gone missing, already.”
“Ah, I saw them at the cliffs. An officer told me about it. So, he’s really like missing-got lost or killed himself?”
“Well, the police think he’s jumped off the cliffs.”
“No? Poor wife, she must be distraught!”
“One would think so, but she’s not. She’s just concerned about where the money’s coming from.”
“Really; how cold can you get? Is she not worried about him at all?” Tamsyn tried to appear nonchalant, but this was too close to home. She was beginning to regret coming here, but she needed to know that Miriam was okay.
“It doesn’t seem so. If it was my husband I’d be beside myself.”
“Me too, only I’m not married yet!”
Mary smiled, as the girl was a nice little thing, dark and very pretty but with a vivacious smile and lovely eyes. The eyes were green but so dark a green as to be almost black.
“Any luggage?” Mary asked.
Tamsyn held up her small holdall.
“Don’t need much,” she said with a smile.
Mary took her up to the room. It was a big single, overlooking the front. The girl seemed pleased.
“This is lovely, thanks.”
“You’re lucky, it’s just before the season starts. Next week we’re booked solid.”
“All the grockles?”
Mary smiled. Grockle was the name given to anyone who came from over the river Tamar, so not Cornish – foreigners.
“So, which college are you at?”
Tamsyn almost panicked, as she knew nothing of the British system of schooling and the Torque was no help at all. She closed her eyes and let whatever was deep inside her take over.
“Um, Portsmouth, media studies,” she said, having heard of Portsmouth and media studies was universal, wasn’t it?
“Are you enjoying it?”
“It’s okay,” she said, trying to be a typical college kid.
Mary smiled.
“I wish I’d had the opportunities you young people get these days. My life could have been so different,” she told the girl, wistfully.
“Don’t you like your life?”
Mary smiled again.
“I suppose so, but I often wonder what my potential could have been. What do you hope to do with yourself?”
Tamsyn stopped and thought for a moment. “Make a difference,” she said, smiling.
“You’ve done that already,” Mary said.
“How?”
“You’ve brought a bit of sunshine into our house. It’s so nice to have someone who seems so happy. Old misery-guts upstairs really cast a dark cloud over everything.”
“She can’t help it any more. They should have dealt with her differently from third grade,” said Tamsyn, showing a brief glimpse of wisdom.
“Are you sure you don’t want supper?”
“Can I just come and sit and have some tea or something?”
“Of course, I made a fresh apple pie today, would you like a slice?”
“That would be lovely.”
The girl followed Mary back downstairs, accompanying the older woman back into the kitchen. Her presence was strangely familiar for Mary, as if she was part of the family. She chatted away cheerfully, even helping Mary preparing to cook the dinners for the few guests who elected to eat in this evening.
“There are ten beds in six rooms - two doubles, two twins and two singles. Only five are eating in tonight, the two couples from the Midlands and the American woman.”
“Are you alone, or does someone work with you?”