The Mill on the Shore Read Free Page B

public property and had never really belonged to her. It would never have occurred to him to turn down these invitations. He needed the admiration and the excitement, the sense that life was full, that he was always rushed off his feet. So Cathy had been left on her own, abandoned, she felt, out of preference for elephants and rhinos. Even when Hannah was born James had turned up late, still dressed in some ridiculous safari suit, and had entranced the midwives and doctors so they clustered around him asking for autographs while she and the baby were left alone, forgotten.
    She saw now that she had not made sufficient fuss. Meg had not let him get away with anything like that.
    How had she managed it? Cathy wondered, looking at the little woman in the pew in front of her. How had Meg managed to tame him? Perhaps James had been prepared to make the sacrifice because he loved Meg more, but that seemed unlikely. None of his loves had been that important. Perhaps she had just been better at maintaining the façade of family life. The accident of course had been the best thing that had ever happened to her. After that James had been dependent on her and it seemed she could do what she liked with him.
    The organ played a phrase of the first hymn and they stood up to sing. Cathy was reminded of Hannah’s funeral and how James was late even for that. Then there was a scuffle at the back of the church; Rosie and Jane, the two young housekeepers from the Mill, flew in, scarves and coats flapping. Cathy smiled, pleased that someone was late for him too.
    Phil was worried about Cathy. He thought she was grieving for James more than she was prepared to let on and it would do her good to talk about it. She should know by now that he wasn’t jealous, not of Jimmy Morrissey. He was grateful because it was Jimmy, in a way, who had brought them together.
    Phil had been brought up locally in Salter’s Cottage, the whitewashed single-storey house where he still lived, facing the Mill across the bay. His dad had worked in the Mill when it was operating and in his spare time he’d been a bit of a fisherman, going out in a small boat for crab and lobster. Phil had thought he would work in the Mill too but it had closed the year he left school and he was taken on as an apprentice at Mardon Wools, the textile factory up the river. He had never considered leaving the district, moving away like his school friends. His passion was the wildlife on the shore. He was something of a botanist too but the birds were most important to him. Since he was a child he had kept regular wildfowl and wader counts and every summer he ringed the arctic tern chicks which were born on the shingle. He had been the county’s British Trust for Ornithology rep for years.
    He threw himself into work with the same enthusiasm as he did his birdwatching, staying on late even when there was no overtime to be had, going to college in the evenings. He worked his way up to become manager and could do the job now, he thought, standing on his head.
    Cathy had joined Mardon Wools some years after her divorce from James. The company wanted to change its image. It had a reputation for quality but the clothes it produced were staid, boring. The loyal customers were slowly dying off and it needed to attract a younger clientele. After her separation from James, Cathy had established her own company, designing sweaters, selling on the patterns and the wool for customers to knit in their own homes. She had been head-hunted by Mardon, offered a good salary, substantial perks if she became their chief designer. She was flattered by the approach and accepted. She had never liked the idea of Hannah being a teenager in London.
    Phil had fallen for Cathy as soon as he saw her. He had a romantic nature sustained since adolescence through lack of experience. Women had always seemed unable to take him seriously. The glamour of her name and the fact that she had known intimately Jimmy Morrissey, his