Authors: Catrin Collier
She looked inward to that time and her younger self. âI loved the friendships we made that summer. I loved the new experiences. The cookouts, the parties, the visits to the Melody Tent to hear musicians I'd only heard on radio, but most of all I loved the times when it was only Bobby, me and the sea.'
âWhen I fell in love with you I knew I was up against a ghost. But I didn't know he was still alive.' He asked the question she hadn't answered in nineteen years. âWhat happened to end it, Penny?'Â
Penny sat back and stared at the flames flickering around the coals in the fire set in the range while Jack waited patiently for her to continue.
âKate and I saved a fair sum of money that summer.' The commonplace opening revealed she was bracing herself for what was to come. âWe had no rent to pay and Cosmo was generous with his leftovers. Sometimes he gave us burgers and franks to take back to the Beach House or down to Marion and Joe's. Not just enough for us, but for twenty â thirty people. A few nights he even insisted he had spare lobsters. We didn't believe him but we took them.'
âSo you didn't starve.' It was a banal comment but she'd fallen silent again.
âNo.' She looked across at him before turning back to the fire. âThen, Kate and I realised we had barely two weeks left before our return flight home. For all my talk
of wanting to see the galleries and museums in New York and Boston, I'd only been to two in Boston. Bobby had driven me there on one of our days off. It made me all the more determined to spend my last week sightseeing in New York.
âBobby made a couple of calls and arranged to borrow an apartment from a friend in the Village who'd be away for our last week in the States. Sandy and Kate decided to go with us and we told Cosmo we were quitting.
âCosmo didn't mind; the season was winding down and there were times when Kate and I could actually sit at the counter for ten minutes at a time instead of scurrying around like demented ants. Three days before we were due to leave the Cape, we went to work and from there on to Marion and Joe's for a party. We didn't get back to the Beach House until dawn. And, when we did, every light was on in the main house.'
âCharlotte Brosna?' Jack guessed.
âBobby had been optimistic about laying a false trail in Wisconsin. I found out later that Charlotte knew exactly where he was the day we reached the Cape. She'd paid people to watch him â and us.'
âWho told her?'
She shrugged. âPossibly one of the “snoops” Bobby had referred to. The people she'd hired to report his movements to her when he'd been younger. When I was in the hospital after the accident I heard rumours that it was a local solicitor hoping for Brosna business. Someone else suggested it could have been one of the homeless people George had housed. I never tried to find out.'
âYou're very forgiving.'
âMore forgiving to whoever sold us out than I was to Charlotte Brosna. Presumably they desperately needed Charlotte's money and were prepared to do whatever it took to get it. I suspect Charlotte simply enjoyed interfering in people's lives because it gave her pleasure to exercise the power she wielded.' She set her empty cup on the floor beside her chair. âBobby saw the lights on in the main house, turned his back on them and went into the Beach House. George was waiting for us in the living room.
âHe said, “Your grandmother's back, Mr Bobby, and there's hell to pay. Everyone's been ordered to leave the guest houses by midday.”
âBobby's first thought was for George. “You?” he asked.
âGeorge replied that he'd been “let go.” A horrible American expression. At least the English, “you're fired” is honest.
âBobby was furious. George's father and grandfather had worked for the Brosnas. If anyone had a right to expect lifetime employment, it was George junior. But George took his dismissal better than Bobby. Charlotte had offered George a thousand dollars if he went quietly. A lot of money now, but even more in 1968. George told Bobby he couldn't afford to turn it down and he'd soon find himself another job.
âBobby knew the likelihood of George finding a job that paid as much or came with halfway decent accommodation was slim, but George was insistent that he would be fine and Bobby should worry about himself.
But George, like Sandy, knew all about Bobby's fraught relationship with his grandmother.
âGeorge's parting shot as he left the Beach House to pack was that Charlotte wanted to see Bobby “right away.”
âBobby's response was his grandmother could damn well wait.
âGeorge turned back and advised caution, but Bobby was in no mood to take advice. Sandy offered to accompany Bobby to the main house. Bobby refused and stormed out without looking at me, Kate or Sandy.
âSandy tried to be philosophical. He kissed Kate and said, “It was great while it lasted. Sorry the summer had to end, sweetheart, but in my experience they always do.”
âLike Sandy, Kate tried to make light of the situation; she announced she was going to pack and went into the bedroom she'd shared with Sandy. Sandy called after her and asked her to pack his things too.
âI tried to be practical and suggested that if we had to get out by midday we'd better get motel rooms for the next couple of days.
âSandy said he'd borrow George's bike after breakfast and return to Marion and Joe's house to see if there were any empty rooms. Quite a few people had already left the Cape to spend the final days of the holidays with their families. And we only needed a place for a couple more nights.
âI couldn't bear the thought of staying on for any length of time and asked Sandy if he thought Cosmo would allow us to leave earlier than we'd arranged. Sandy said
he'd talk to him, but even as we discussed it, I wasn't thinking of galleries and museums. Only Bobby. Every minute that passed seemed like a week, and I thought it unlikely he'd return to the Beach House. I assumed the grandmother he'd spoken of so often, and never fondly, would send one of her minions to collect Bobby's things and order us out of the Beach House. And that, as Sandy had said, would be the end of the summer â and Bobby and me.'
She sat back in the chair but didn't look at Jack.
âWe were close to the main house but didn't have a clue what was happening there and not one of us dared knock on the door. Now it seems ridiculous that three young people well able to take care of themselves were frightened of a cantankerous selfish old woman.'
âA rich powerful old woman who had total control over a grandson you all loved,' Jack reminded. âWealth brings power and I doubt many people ever stood up to Charlotte Brosna.'
She thought of Andy and how Charlotte had tried to take him from her.
âSo what happened then?' Jack prompted.
âSandy made coffee and breakfast although I don't think any of us ate anything. After he washed the dishes, Sandy opened the front door. Shadows were moving in front of one of the windows in an upstairs room. But we were too far away to hear anything. There were so many questions I'd wanted to ask Bobby and never had. I couldn't wait any longer and I asked Sandy why Bobby was so frightened of his grandmother.
âHis answer was short and to the point. “Because
she's controlled his life since the day he was born and she has all the money.”
âI tried arguing with Sandy that there had to be more. We'd lived all summer on our earnings from the restaurant, which were good but not as much as Kate and I could expect to earn once we'd qualified. And we'd lived well. When Sandy pointed out that we hadn't had to pay rent or service charges I reminded him that we'd saved more than enough to cover those expenses and had intended to travel to New York on it.
âThat's when he said that I had no idea what it was like living with the kind of money the Brosnas had. What it was to have a limo at your disposal, twenty-four hours, seven days a week, and all the yachts, cars, houses and luxuries money could buy.
âI asked him if he thought Bobby would give up his lifestyle for me. It was only after I asked the question I realised Bobby had already given me his answer. He'd never made me any promises about a future together.'
â
I love you now, isn't that enough?
' She didn't repeat the words to Jack; some things were too personal, even for him. But Bobby's voice echoed through her mind.
âSandy was honest, disconcertingly so. He didn't answer my question because he said there was no point in him telling me what I already knew. He said he was sorry, sorry about the way the summer had ended. Sorry to be leaving Kate and me, but, most of all, sorry to be losing his freedom and having to ship out to Vietnam.
âHe also tried to console me by telling me it was easier on him and Kate and even Bobby, than it was on me
because all three of them had accepted there would only be the one summer for us from the beginning.
âI said the first thing that came into my head, “You don't think Bobby loves me?”
âSandy gave me an answer I didn't want to hear. He reminded me that he'd known Bobby all his life and assured me, honestly and sincerely that as far as he could tell, Bobby loved me as much as he was capable of loving anyone. Before he left he suggested that if I wanted to know any more about Bobby or Bobby's thoughts I should ask Bobby, not him.
âI went into the bedroom I'd shared with Bobby, packed my things and tidied up Bobby's clothes. I showered and changed into a clean shirt and jeans. When I'd done all I could, I knocked on the door of Kate and Sandy's room. Kate was lying dressed on the bed. Her own and Sandy's bags and her haggis were packed on the floor beside her.
âShe looked at me and said, “We can't do anything until Sandy gets back so we may as well sleep.”
âI lay beside her. Two hours later Sandy returned. He told us two rooms would be vacant in Marion and Joe's house from four o'clock that afternoon and he'd taken them for the night. He also warned us that the landlady was a stickler for propriety and he'd taken one room for himself and another for Kate and me.
âThe landlady must have either never gone near the place or been blind because everyone in that house was sharing a room with a girl or boyfriend. Joe and Marion had also agreed we could drop our cases into their room before we worked our shift.
âSandy had returned George's bike and suggested we call a cab. There was no sign of Bobby and we could hardly take his car without his permission. The homeless people had started moving out of the guest houses at eight. Most, including Mary and Paul, called in the Beach House to say goodbye on their way.
âNot one of the three of us had the courage to ask them, or George, where they were going. The cab came at midday and Sandy was helping the driver load our bags into it when Bobby finally emerged from the main house. He grabbed my arm, took me to one side and asked me to stay.
âAt first I said I couldn't. That we were moving our things into Marion and Joe's place and we had to work.
âSandy reminded him we owed Cosmo and couldn't let him down. Not after he'd given us jobs when we'd needed them. Bobby continued to plead with me and my resistance crumbled.
âI handed my duffel bag, which held my uniform, waitressing shoes and apron, to Kate and told her and Sandy I'd see them at the restaurant at the beginning of our shift.
âBobby waited until Kate and Sandy left in the cab before telling me that his grandmother wanted to see me. He also warned me that the meeting wouldn't be pleasant. An understatement if ever there was one.
âI asked him if she disapproved of me.
âHe looked up at the main house and I knew Charlotte Brosna was watching every move Bobby made. He said, “She disapproves of everyone, Penny. She's given me an hour to talk to you first. Can we walk on the beach?”
âI don't know what the weather on Cape Cod is usually like in the summer because I've only been there that once. The summer of 1968 was certainly glorious. But walking on the beach with Bobby that early September morning I felt an autumn chill in the air. The sun shone as bright as it had in July but it was as though someone had turned down the temperature. The sea, the scenery were still beautiful, still idyllic and I recall trying to imprint every view, every sensation on my mind so it could become a memory I could refer to later. Even then, I sensed that one day I'd want to relive even the unhappy moments I'd spent with Bobby.
âFor a while we just walked along the shoreline, avoiding the debris. The broken fishing lines, the dead crabs, the shells. We kicked up sand with our bare toes because we'd taken off our shoes. I didn't want to be the one to begin the conversation because I didn't want to be seen as too clinging â too needy.
âFinally Bobby said, “I love you.” It was the declaration I'd been waiting for all summer, but the way he said it made my blood run cold.'Â
A cloudburst of rain thundered down, smashing against the farmhouse windows in a staccato drumbeat. Although it was only five o'clock, the light that filtered through the deep-set windows had darkened to twilight grey.
Jack left his chair and switched on the side lamps. âIf your parents don't see the lights on in your house they'll be worried. Phone them and tell them you're staying over. I'll open a bottle of wine and you can help me eat my cottage pie.'
âIt's tempting but I should go back.'
âWith Andy away you've no reason.'
âExcept work,' she demurred.
âIf you were able to concentrate on your painting you wouldn't be here.'
She went into the hall, picked up the phone and spoke
to her mother. As she'd expected, her father had told her mother about the letter she'd received from America.
âAndy's only eighteen, darling. To inherit a fortune at that ageâ'
âI know it's not going to be easy for him,' she interrupted. The last thing she wanted to do was discuss the implications of her son inheriting the Brosna fortune over the telephone. âI promise you, I won't do anything without talking it over with you and Daddy first. He did tell you that I don't want Andy to know about it until after his exams?'
âYes, darling.'
âPlease don't worry, Mam. As Jack keeps reminding me, Andy's a sensible boy.'
âHe is.' Her mother said it as if she was trying to convince herself. âHave a good evening and don't hurry back. Stay a few days. You've been working too hard lately.'
âPerhaps I will stay over if Jack can put up with me. Love you.'
âLove you too, Penny.'
She rang off and returned to the kitchen. Jack had been to the barn to retrieve the dogs. They were both wet from the hosing down he'd given them before allowing them into the house. He'd also closed the curtains and poured the wine.
âThis looks cosy.' She returned to her chair, curled up in it and picked up the glass of wine.
âThis could be us every night after Andy goes to college.'
She took a deep breath. âJackâ'
âI'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought up the subject of us. Not when you have other things to think about.' He patted one of the dogs who went to him looking for affection. Reassured, the dog stretched out alongside his brother on the rug in front of the range.
âSo, did you meet Charlotte Brosna?' he questioned.
âYes. But to go back to Bobby and me on the beach, I knew he would only admit that he loved me if he was leaving me.'
âBecause he found it difficult to express his feelings?'
âThat, and because for the entire summer he'd lived for the moment. He'd never once talked in depth about the future. The past occasionally â but never what he intended to do in the next couple of years other than rather nebulous plans to “make music”.'
âThe young live for the moment,' Jack the philosopher observed.
âThey may live for the moment but they also think and talk about the future. The jobs they hope to get once they qualify, the people they'd like to stay in touch with. Sandy talked of visiting Europe and looking up Kate as soon as he was discharged from the army. And most of the friends we made that summer had plans. Two couples, Marion and Joe and Paul and Mary, decided to marry.'
âDid they?'
âPaul and Mary in 1970. Joe and Marion in 1974.'
âYou stayed in touch with them?' He was surprised.
âObviously. After Vietnam, Joe went to college on a veteran's scholarship and became a Methodist minister. The one-time bunny girl, Marion, now runs
church socials and a kindergarten group. They have five children and live in Atlanta, Georgia. Paul and Mary settled in Canada after he completed his arts degree. He works as a photographer and they have two children. Both couples have a standing invitation to visit me and me them. One day we'll amaze one another.'
âBut Bobby never mentioned the future?' He steered the conversation back on course.
âNot until that day on the beach when he told me his grandmother had picked out his future wife when he was fourteen. Her name was Victoria Jefferson Hamilton, she was two years younger than him and her family were bankers. The Brosna Empire accounts were with the Jefferson Hamilton firm and his grandmother had decided to announce their engagement at Christmas.'
âDid Bobby or the girl have a say in it?'
âApparently not. I remember being shocked. I told him arranged marriages were medieval in concept and had no place in civilised society. He said he barely knew Victoria and had only met her a couple of times, but his grandmother was determined their marriage should go ahead as she'd planned. And she'd done that down to the last detail; a two-year engagement followed by a society wedding to which everyone who was anyone in eastern seaboard society would be invited, along with Hollywood actors, writers and European royalty. His grandmother had even planned their honeymoon. Two weeks on a Brosna-owned Caribbean island followed by a six-month tour of Europe. Afterwards he would begin working in one of the Brosna businesses and he and his
bride would live in whichever of the Brosna properties they chose.
âThe way Bobby talked about his grandmother's plans for him was bizarre. As if he was talking about Charlotte Brosna's plans for someone else. But despite his tone I knew he was serious. When he finished I asked if Charlotte was very angry with him for leaving Resonance and taking me with him. He said it was impossible to say as she was an expert at concealing her feelings.
âThe question is, were
you
very angry with Bobby for keeping quiet about his prospective fiancée?' Jack asked.
âI was shocked more than angry. I asked Bobby why he'd never mentioned Victoria. He said she was nothing to do with us. I pointed out that as we'd lived together all summer I thought he was something to do with me, and as Victoria was going to be his wife he could at least have mentioned her.
âHe insisted he had no intention of living with her after they were married. He even said it was common for married couples in their social circle to lead separate lives. I asked if he would have told me about Victoria if his grandmother hadn't returned. Or if he would have simply allowed me to fly home and never contact me again.'
âWhat was his reply?'
âThat it was time to go and see his grandmother. It was then I lost my temper. I was furious with him for trying to avoid an argument with me by forcing me to meet his grandmother. I should have left then. But I loved Bobby so much; a small optimistic part of me
hoped he'd disobey Charlotte and run away from her estate and influence just as he had done in Resonance. We left the beach, brushed the sand from our feet, put on our shoes and walked up to the house. A butler must have been looking out for us because he opened the door as soon as we climbed on to the veranda. We went into the hall. It was enormous and had a vast staircase. I remember thinking all that was needed was a couple of dozen girls in crinolines to re-enact the ball scene in the hall of Twelve Oaks in
Gone with the Wind
.
âI took my time over wiping my feet before following Bobby up the stairs and along a galleried landing. He knocked at a door at the end. I heard footsteps and a dark-skinned woman opened the door.
âShe bobbed a curtsey to Bobby before saying, “Your grandmother is waiting, Mr Bobby.”
âCharlotte Brosna was sitting behind a desk. Bobby had mentioned that she was in her eighties but she looked no older than fifty â slim and frighteningly elegant to a girl dressed in cheap jeans and T-shirt. She was wearing a tailored suit even my inexperienced eye could see was Chanel. Diamonds circled her neck, fingers and wrists and her hair and make-up were immaculate.
âHer voice was clipped, harsh. She didn't waste a word and it was obvious she was used to being obeyed. She dismissed the woman with a “that will be all, Harriet”.
âEyes downcast, the housekeeper left the room and closed the door behind her. It was only after she'd left that I realised she was Sandy's mother.
âCharlotte proceeded to look me up and down as if I
was a candidate for a maid's position. Finally she said, “So you're the girl Robert spent the summer with.”
âI didn't answer her because the comment seemed superfluous. Nonplussed by my silence, she continued to study me and added, “Well?”
âI have no idea where I found the courage but I said, “It appears you know as much about the time I've spent with Bobby this summer as Bobby and I do, Mrs Brosna.”
âShe turned from me to Bobby and said, “So you've finally found yourself a girl who can answer back, Robert?” Bobby didn't say a word. She looked at me again and said, “Robert says he loves you and you love him.”
âI didn't flinch but met her eye.
âShe sat back in her chair and said, “Has he told you that he's engaged to Victoria Jefferson Hamilton?”
âI replied, “Yes, a few minutes ago.”
âShe turned away from me and looked at Robert. “You didn't tell this girl about Victoria before?”
âBobby walked to the window, and turned his back on both of us so he could look out at the view. “No, I didn't.”
âCharlotte turned her attention back to me. “If Robert had told you about Victoria, would the knowledge have dissuaded you from moving into the Beach House with him?” she demanded.
âI remembered Bobby's assertion that he didn't love Victoria and answered, “only if I thought he loved her.”
âShe glared at me. Her voice was cold, iced with frost, just like my old headmistress, and just like my old
headmistress I recognised Charlotte Brosna for what she was. A lonely old interfering bully who'd made it her mission in life to blight the lives of everyone unfortunate enough to find themselves within the boundaries of her control. Pity help me, at that moment I even felt sorry for her.
â“I will allow nothing to interfere with my plans for my grandson's future. Nothing!” she warned. “And certainly not a small-town doctor's daughter from Wales.” That was when I realised she'd not only paid people to watch Bobby and me that summer, but also paid someone to research my background. She pushed an envelope across the desk towards me. A large fat envelope and ordered me to take it but I didn't pick it up.
âShe held it out to me. “Inside this is five thousand dollars in cash. It's yours on condition you never see my grandson again.” She smiled, confident she'd already bought me.
âI stared at her for a moment, then walked to the door. She shouted after me, “Isn't it enough?”
âWhen I didn't answer she called out, “I'll make it ten thousand dollars.”
âI kept walking. A heavily built man blocked my path. Charlotte shouted from inside the room. “Don't let the girl leave the house.”
âHe said, “Mrs Brosna wants you to return to her drawing room, miss.”
âI answered, “And if I don't want to go?”
âHe stood his ground. There was no way I could pass him so I returned to Charlotte's room. Bobby
was standing in front of the window with his back to Charlotte and me.
âCharlotte had an open chequebook in front of her. “A cheque made out to cash for twenty thousand dollars.” She held a pen poised over the book.
âI told her I couldn't be bought.
âShe countered with, “In my experience, Penelope John, everyone has a price, especially soiled goods.”
âI called to Bobby. He didn't turn around.
âCharlotte watched me appealing to him and laughed. “Surprised?” she crowed. “My grandson knows where his dollars come from and how easily they can be cut off.” She wrote the cheque and held it out in front of me.
âThe room began to spin around me. I looked from Charlotte to the man who was blocking the door.
âI was determined that Charlotte wouldn't get the better of me. I noticed French doors in the room, moved quickly past Bobby and wrenched them open. George was loading a truck outside one of the guest houses. I screamed down to him. Told him to get the police because Charlotte was imprisoning me.
âCharlotte laughed and said, “George won't get the police. Not if he wants his money. Everyone always wants money. First they argue and, pretend to take the moral high ground, but in the end everyone has a price.
âIt was then I realised just how malevolent Charlotte could be. How she controlled everyone around her with threats, not just against them but their friends. I finally understood why Bobby was so frightened of her. He, like
me, couldn't appeal to anyone for help because he knew Charlotte could hurt them.
âI returned to the room. Charlotte had left her chair. I finally took the cheque from her. The man blocking the door moved away. I walked out, tore the cheque in two and threw the pieces behind me as I charged down the stairs. I heard footsteps but I didn't look to see if it was Bobby because I was afraid it wouldn't be.
âI ran down the drive and through the gates. George caught up with me on the road. His truck was loaded with boxes. He stopped alongside me and asked if I was all right. Two women with small children on their laps were sitting in the cab alongside him. I told him I didn't want to get him into trouble and I'd rather hitch a lift with strangers. He nodded and drove on.
âA couple of soldiers on leave picked me up outside the gates and dropped me in town. I went straight to the restaurant. Sandy and Kate were eating lunch before the shift started. I sat in the staffroom with them and drank coffee. They could see I was upset but they didn't press me. That shift was the last and longest I worked in Cosmo's.
âCosmo knew something was wrong because Bobby didn't turn up for work. He reluctantly agreed to pay us off that evening and gave each of us a twenty-dollar bonus. He tried to give Sandy Bobby's wages but Sandy wouldn't take them. We told Cosmo that Charlotte had returned to the estate and Cosmo said he'd post Bobby a cheque.