myself as well.’ And she swept back to the bar, ignoring all the other customers vying for her attention.
I watched her with affection. Queenie’s given name was Elizabeth, but one day, long before we began coming to Cornwall every summer, Her Majesty was in the news, and Liz the barmaid was being particularly imperious. One of the regulars teased that she was as bossy as the Queen, and from then on Queenie she was. She pretended to be annoyed about her new nickname, but secretly she loved it. It made her feel special.
She came back with drinks, and settled herself down next to me on the window seat. ‘But, Queenie, haven’t you got to work?’ I asked her.
‘No, I’m on a break. Bill will hold the fort for a bit. I want to talk to you.’
I looked down and took a sip of my drink.
‘Molly. I don’t want to intrude, or make you feel bad. But you haven’t been back here for ages. And because of what happened to Joey, we thought we’d never see you again.’
I wondered if I wanted even to talk to her, to get into this. But Queenie was so full of warmth; everything about her exuded goodness and welcome. And I’d had enough. I’d tried so hard to keep my sadness inside the family. I’d been so private; my grief about Joey had been mine alone, shared with Adam and Danny, but no one else.
And now here was Queenie. She was just an old friend, more of an acquaintance really. But I felt so burdened, so desperate to shed some of my load. And she was there, in Polperro. She had witnessed my meltdown after Joey was lost.
My throat was dry. I felt sick with the mess in my mind. Queenie sat there before me, her face genuinely concerned; I felt she really wanted to know how I was feeling. And, God knows, I wanted to tell someone.
But there was little time to confide anything. We didn’t have long before I was due to meet Ben. I told her he was coming to the pub to talk about the day Joey disappeared. She frowned. ‘Ben, Molly? Are you sure you want to talk to him?’
‘Well, of course. He was the last person to see Joe alive; who else can tell me what happened?’
Queenie was quiet for a while. Eventually she let out a breath and said, ‘I do understand that, but I’m not sure Ben is the right person for you at the moment. I mean, given your state of mind.’
‘What do you mean? You don’t even know my state of mind.’
‘Molly, love, it’s obvious. You looked so sad when you came in. And utterly lost.’
Was I really that transparent? I stared at her. I realised she was echoing Adam’s words, his warning that I was getting into deep waters.
‘Look, Queenie, is there something about Ben I should know?’
‘No,’ she replied. ‘Not really. He’s a good lad now. But…’ She shrugged. ‘It’s just there are murky depths out there. And I don’t think it will do you any good at the moment to start probing.’
Queenie looked up at the pub door behind me. Her face changed. She gave a small smile.
‘Hello, Ben,’ she said in a calm but distant voice.
‘Hi, Queenie. Hello, Molly.’
Ben. He looked much the same as the sixteen-year old boy that Joey had asked us to take in, vulnerable but forceful all the same. This young man had a powerful presence, but he was obviously ill at ease. He looked at Queenie and me, and asked if he could get us both a drink. Queenie shook her head.
‘I’ll get back behind the bar now. Bill needs some help.’
He certainly did. He was inundated with tourists demanding drinks and food. Queenie joined him, and instantly the pub settled. Requests for crab sandwiches, ham and eggs and fish and chips were immediately noted and promised swiftly.
As Ben sat down beside me, Queenie looked over and locked eyes with me. ‘I’ll see you before you go, Molly. Don’t leave without telling me,’ she ordered.
Ben didn’t notice. In fact he looked dazed, so preoccupied I wasn’t sure he knew exactly what was happening. He shook himself. ‘Do you want something to eat,
I watched her with affection. Queenie’s given name was Elizabeth, but one day, long before we began coming to Cornwall every summer, Her Majesty was in the news, and Liz the barmaid was being particularly imperious. One of the regulars teased that she was as bossy as the Queen, and from then on Queenie she was. She pretended to be annoyed about her new nickname, but secretly she loved it. It made her feel special.
She came back with drinks, and settled herself down next to me on the window seat. ‘But, Queenie, haven’t you got to work?’ I asked her.
‘No, I’m on a break. Bill will hold the fort for a bit. I want to talk to you.’
I looked down and took a sip of my drink.
‘Molly. I don’t want to intrude, or make you feel bad. But you haven’t been back here for ages. And because of what happened to Joey, we thought we’d never see you again.’
I wondered if I wanted even to talk to her, to get into this. But Queenie was so full of warmth; everything about her exuded goodness and welcome. And I’d had enough. I’d tried so hard to keep my sadness inside the family. I’d been so private; my grief about Joey had been mine alone, shared with Adam and Danny, but no one else.
And now here was Queenie. She was just an old friend, more of an acquaintance really. But I felt so burdened, so desperate to shed some of my load. And she was there, in Polperro. She had witnessed my meltdown after Joey was lost.
My throat was dry. I felt sick with the mess in my mind. Queenie sat there before me, her face genuinely concerned; I felt she really wanted to know how I was feeling. And, God knows, I wanted to tell someone.
But there was little time to confide anything. We didn’t have long before I was due to meet Ben. I told her he was coming to the pub to talk about the day Joey disappeared. She frowned. ‘Ben, Molly? Are you sure you want to talk to him?’
‘Well, of course. He was the last person to see Joe alive; who else can tell me what happened?’
Queenie was quiet for a while. Eventually she let out a breath and said, ‘I do understand that, but I’m not sure Ben is the right person for you at the moment. I mean, given your state of mind.’
‘What do you mean? You don’t even know my state of mind.’
‘Molly, love, it’s obvious. You looked so sad when you came in. And utterly lost.’
Was I really that transparent? I stared at her. I realised she was echoing Adam’s words, his warning that I was getting into deep waters.
‘Look, Queenie, is there something about Ben I should know?’
‘No,’ she replied. ‘Not really. He’s a good lad now. But…’ She shrugged. ‘It’s just there are murky depths out there. And I don’t think it will do you any good at the moment to start probing.’
Queenie looked up at the pub door behind me. Her face changed. She gave a small smile.
‘Hello, Ben,’ she said in a calm but distant voice.
‘Hi, Queenie. Hello, Molly.’
Ben. He looked much the same as the sixteen-year old boy that Joey had asked us to take in, vulnerable but forceful all the same. This young man had a powerful presence, but he was obviously ill at ease. He looked at Queenie and me, and asked if he could get us both a drink. Queenie shook her head.
‘I’ll get back behind the bar now. Bill needs some help.’
He certainly did. He was inundated with tourists demanding drinks and food. Queenie joined him, and instantly the pub settled. Requests for crab sandwiches, ham and eggs and fish and chips were immediately noted and promised swiftly.
As Ben sat down beside me, Queenie looked over and locked eyes with me. ‘I’ll see you before you go, Molly. Don’t leave without telling me,’ she ordered.
Ben didn’t notice. In fact he looked dazed, so preoccupied I wasn’t sure he knew exactly what was happening. He shook himself. ‘Do you want something to eat,
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