The Woman in the Sea

By Colin Cossor

When Samantha Saunders, (friends call her Sam) is rescued from the sea by a handsome tramp, she never expected to see him again.
Orphaned at twenty-six, she had moved from London to live with her aunt on the South Coast of England.
She finds work at Flemings, the largest department store in the town. Sam loves the store and its colourful staff.
The sad, Mary Maguire, eccentric Bill Cocker. Donald, the ex-Soldier, decorated for bravery, and the flamboyant Margo.
She finds herself having to fend off the attentions of Andrew Fleming, the founder’s grandson. Pompous, arrogant, conceited, he is used to getting his own way, especially with women.
Sam has no desire to be another notch on his bedpost. He appears shallow and selfish. But is he?
What of the enigmatic tramp, who turns up where least expected?
When Sam moved south, she never expected her life would change quite so dramatically.



Cover picture: Lucy Piper Photography.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Mar 14, 2023
• ISBN: 9781312786684

Book preview

The Woman in the Sea

by

Colin Cossor

Published by FeedARead.com Publishing

Arts Council Funded.

The author asserts his moral right underThe Copyright, design and Patents act, 1988,To be Identified as the author of this work.

All Rights reserved.  No part of the publication may be reproduced, copied in any retrieval System, or transmitted in any dorms by any Means, without the prior written consent of the copyright holder, nor be otherwise Circulated in any form of binding or cover, other than in which it is published and without

similar conditions being improved on the. A catalogue record for this title is availablefrom The British Library.

ISBN: 978-1-312-78668-4

Colin Cossor has a B.A. in English and graduated with a Master’s degree with merit from The Middlesex University.

The woman in the Sea is his twelfth novel

He has two children and four grandsons. He is a widower and lives in Suffolk.

Other novels by Colin Cossor

On Wings of Song

Wild Justice

Either Side the River

The Woman at Checkout Nine

Over the Hill

Struggle

All Their Pride

Rita

The Valley of dreams

The Drifter

Thirst for Fame

For my four wonderful grandsons

James, Ollie, Freddy and Archie.

Love you all.

Grandad Hat

She came up out of the sea,

In distress she came to me.

Anon.

Contents

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Twenty

Twenty-one

Twenty-two

Twenty-three

Twenty-four

Twenty-five

Twenty -six

Twenty-seven

Twenty-eight

Epilogue

One

To all outward appearances the two men walking along the Strand close to the sea, might well have been tramps, gentlemen of the road. But often appearances can be deceptive. Certainly, their clothes were shabby, worn and shiny, even torn in places. They looked down on their uppers. Yet they did not seem unhappy, indeed, they were laughing and joking as if they had not a care in the world.

‘This is the life, eh, Tim,’ said the tall man to his short companion.  ‘Out in the open air on a wonderful hot day. What could be better?’

The small man nodded.  It doesn’t pay the rent though, Andrew. Although I must admit it’s good to escape once in a while. It’s so peaceful here. Hard to imagine that just a few miles away the beach will be packed with holidaymakers.’

‘That’s because the sea back there is more benign and there’s lifeguards, and plenty of entertainment.’ He looked around him. ‘What is there here? Just that little café and a toilet block and the currents here are dodgy.’

The smaller man looked out across the sea. ‘Perhaps that’s why that swimmer is waving at us. Not waving but drowning. So goes the poem, eh?’

The tall man followed his companion’s gaze.

‘Christ! You’re right, big trouble. ‘He ripped off his jacket and shirt, removed his shoes and ran down the beach into the sea.

‘Be careful,’ called his companion. ‘Remember the currents.’

As he reached the swimmer the man could see it was a woman.

‘Stop thrashing about, lie on your back.’

It took a while before the swimmer calmed down and rolled on to her back.

‘There’s a wicked cross current here.’ He had no breath to say more but with one arm around her he struck out for the shore. It seemed to take an age before they made any headway. It was almost as though they were treading water. The man was a strong swimmer but he began to wonder if they’d ever get back on dry land. He knew full well that if he left her, he could make it to the shore, but such a thing was not an option. He daren’t let her know he was struggling; she might panic and make their situation worse

. After what seemed an age, his feet touced the ocean floor. Then he picked the girl up and carried her on to the beach. ‘You can put me down now,’ she said, rather haughtily he thought for someone o might well have drowned but for his heroism. ‘Thank you for your help. I must get out of this wet costume.’

The man looked at her and liked what he saw. Small, barely five feet he imagined. Probably about twenty- five or six; they might even be the same age. Brown curly hair and the most wonderful full mouth, and big brown eyes. The costume in question, a bikini, just about covered what appeared to be exquisite measurements.

She picked up her clothes and a towel and ran to the toilet block.

‘You took a chance there, Andrew,’ the smaller man said. ‘You could have ended up in Davy Jones locker. Your grandfather would not have been best pleased.’ He handed over the torn shirt and trousers. Best put these on. Can’t do much about your wet trousers.’

The two men sat on the sea wall. After about ten minutes the young woman reappeared dressed in a red dress with white spots, white sandals; her hair tidy and her mouth painted a subtle pink.

She looked at the man who had saved her and noticed his shabby clothes. He was undeniably handsome, but clearly, he and his companion were in the lower orders of society. She noticed he had curved shaped scar on his left cheek.

‘Thank you again for coming to my aid’ she said, ‘I didn’t expect the current to be so strong.’

The small man sniffed. ‘You’d have drowned if Andy hadn’t saved you. You’re lucky he’s a strong swimmer.

By the way, I’m Tim and your saviour is Andrew. What do they call you?’

‘Sam. It’s short for Samantha but no one calls me that, names get shortened don’t they. I suppose Andy is short for Andrew, and Tim is Timothy.’

At that moment a tall middle-aged woman appeared.

‘Samantha! What on earth are you doing?’

Of course, Sam knew what her aunt Rose meant was, why are you talking to two scruffy men?

The woman looked down her nose at Andrew and Timothy, taking in their shabby clothes. ‘How many times have I told you Samantha, not to— ‘

‘Aunt Rose. This man has just saved me from drowning. I was out of my depth and being carried out to sea.’

The older woman put a hand to her face.

‘Oh, my dear Lord!’ She stared at the two men. Then opening her handbag, took out a five- pound note and handed it to Andrew. ‘Here, take this young man and buy something to eat.’

The two men were still laughing as they walked back along the Strand. They went through a gap in the hedge and stopped in front of a brand-new silver Jaguar car. From his jacket pocket Andrew took a key fob and pressed it. ‘There’s no way I can go to the party in these wet trousers,’ he said. ‘Good job the seats are leather, and a good job this fob was in my jacket and not these wet trousers. I suppose it was just as well I decided to park here instead of at the party. There would probably be nowhere to park, you know what that house is like and there would bound to be lots of cars.’ Sitting in the driving seat he stared out through the windscreen.

‘What are you thinking?’ asked his companion.

‘I just wish Sam had wanted the kiss of life.’ He shook his head. ‘Come on, let’s go back. Aunt Rose or no aunt Rose, I’ve got to get her phone number.’

The two men ran back to the scene of the rescue. There was no sign of Samantha, or her aunt. The little cafeteria was empty, so was the car park. The only living soul was an old man asleep in a deckchair on the beach. Samantha had disappeared. The July sun beat down. Andrew stared about in disbelief. Waves rolled up the beach. Except for wet pants and trousers sticking to his legs, it was easy to imagine the events of the past hour had never have happened.

* * *

Two

Andrew Fleming rode the lift to the fourth floor. Once there he strode along the corridor.

In the wide area outside his office his secretary sat at her desk.

‘Good morning, Mary,’ he said jovially.

‘Good morning to you Andrew.’

Andrew Fleming smiled. Mary Maguire was the only member of staff in the whole of the department store, permitted to use his Christian name. Middle-aged and totally reliable. She was shared jointly with his grandfather, their P.A, looking after them both like a mother hen. He couldn’t imagine what they would do without her. She lived, slept and breathed Flemings Department store. It was her life.

‘Is himself in?’ Andrew asked.

Their P.A. glanced at her watch. ‘Your grandfather has been in since eight o clock. It’s now ten.’

‘I trust you told him I had an appointment with my tailor?’

‘Of course.’ She smiled. How was the party? Vicars and tarts, was it?

‘Tramps and toffs.’

A mischievous smile puckered the corners of Mary Maguire’s mouth. ‘So, you went as the latter; no need to dress up.’

‘Actually, I was a tramp. Tim Carpenter’s wife bought our suits at a jumble sale.’

Mary Maguire gave a slight shudder. ‘I hope she had them cleaned.’

Andrew Fleming laughed. ‘That would have defeated the object, surely.’ He strode off towards the boss’s office.

A tentative knock on the door and he walked in.

‘Good morning, Grandfather.’

The big man behind a large mahogany desk looked up and smiled. ‘It was when I came in.’

‘Didn’t Mary tell you--?’

‘Aye, just my warped sense of humour. Take a seat my boy.’

Andrew looked at his grandfather. Angus Fleming. Seemed hardly to have altered in all the years he’d known him. Now well over eighty, he was still very upright and had a thick head of white hair. From an early age Andrew had always been in awe of him.

‘So, why am I being summoned to the regal presence?’ he asked.

‘Get on with ye, ye cheeky rascal. If you weren’t so useful, I’d sack you.’

Andrew laughed. ‘Then who would look after Flemings, the best apartment store in town?’

They both knew the banter was part of their strong relationship, part of the love they had for each other.

‘If it wasn’t for the bloody Gulf War it would have been your father’s job to take care of Flemings. Mind ye, I do sometimes wonder if he would have been cut out to run a department store, no bullets flying around, no adventure. The sort of thing that got you killed.’

Andrew shifted in his seat. ‘Don’t go there, Grandfather. If you’re going to get maudlin, I’m not going to listen.’ He could recall quite clearly that day at boarding school. A few days before his sixteenth birthday. Being pulled out of class and summoned to the headmaster’s office and finding his grandfather sitting there, telling him his father had been killed fighting in the Gulf war.

‘Aye, well, what can ye expect? If it’s not bad enough losing my son and heir on some pointless mission; now my grandson puts his life in danger swimming we his trousers on in Avon Bay.’

Andrew burst out laughing. ‘Nothing gets past you, Grandfather. How on earth---?

‘Never ye mind, sufficient to say I ken, that’s all.’

‘What was I supposed to do, let her drown?’

The old man raised his eyebrows. ‘Ah, a girl was it, I might have guessed. When are ye going to marry that wee lass, you’re currently living with?’

‘You’ve got a grasshopper mind; one subject to another. The answer is I’m not. She’s just a girlfriend.’

‘Aye, like the last two who stayed for a few months. In my days it would have been a scandal. No one seems to take any notice of it these days.’

‘Thank heaven I wasn’t around then, it sounds boring.’

‘Your mother should have been here to keep an eye ye, instead of running off to the other side of the world with that unsuitable man.’

‘She couldn’t mourn forever, Grandfather. If she was living back at the house I would have moved out. I’m twenty-six, I don’t need a mother to watch over me.’

I married you grandmother when I was twenty- two, four years younger than you. It was nay boring. Too busy with our first shop.’ Angus Fleming smiled. ‘It’s all right I’m not going to bore you with stories of my humble beginnings. You’ve heard them all before.’

‘Have you ever thought of remarrying, grandfather?’

Angus Fleming shook his head. ‘Why would I want to do that?’

‘I just thought it must be lonely on your own in that big house.’

‘I’m not on my own, I’ve got the perfect housekeeper in Hetty, she looks after me, irons my shirts, cooks my meals, ye ken. A domestic cleaner comes in two days a week to do the rotten stuff. I’m perfectly happy. Now what was I saying? You ken about my early life and that wee shop.’ He broke offstaring wistfully across the room, seeing another age, another time. No, I want to prattle on about the men’s department.’

Andrew looked at his grandfather. Immaculately dressed in a three-piece dark suit. They both shared the same tailor. They did not patronize Flemings ready-to-wear department.

‘Moving it to the ground floor was a stroke of genius.’ Angus Fleming said,’ I’ll credit thee that the takings have jumped up. Men hate shopping. I’m sure they never liked going up to the top floor, they prefer to slip in and slip out as quickly as possible. But the trouble is it’s not trendy. It’s the youngsters that spend the money. Older men keep their clothes for years, ye ken? Youngsters like to change them more frequently. You don’t need me to tell you that. We’ve got to get trendy.’

Andrew raised his eyebrows. ‘That’s a new word for you grandfather.’

‘I read the papers and listen to the radio. The other day I took a wee walk along the high street, eying up the small shops. I think our men’s department is looking old fashioned. I want you to get that designer fellow, the one you used for the cosmetics department. Get him to draw some plans to make us trendy.’

‘Consider it done, sir, I’ll get on to it mediately.’

‘Aye, you crack on then laddie.’

After his grandson had left and quietly closed the

door, the big man smiled and shook his head. Lonely, indeed. It was no one’s business but his own that Hetty, slept in his bed.

Andrew walked back to his P.A.s desk. He was finding it difficult to concentrate today. The woman in the sea kept flashing before his eyes, her wonderful mouth. She looked so natural, so unspoilt, not like the creature presently living with him, she overdid the make-up. Overdid everything, too loud by half. Good in bed though. He really needed someone quieter, more subdued, he didn’t want to go out on the town every night. Soon she would have to go.

He sat on the corner of Mary’s desk.

‘He wants me to make the men’s department trendy. Please give that guy who redesigned the cosmetics department, a ring and ask him to come in and see me’

Mary Maguire picked up her notepad. ‘Certainly, I’ve got his number on the computer.’ She saw him hesitate. ‘Will there be anything else?’

Andrew Fleming thought for a while.

‘Yes, see if you can find me a reliable private detective.’

Mary made no comment. It was not her place to ask questions but her brain began working overtime. Why on earth would Andrew Fleming want a private detective?

* * *

Three

The previous afternoon, Rose Tremaine had dropped into her arm-chair and sighed. Hardly a word had been spoken while she walked with her niece back to their bungalow high on the cliffs overlooking the sea. Now she wanted answers.

‘Why did you go in swimming when I told you that bay was not safe for bathing? You told me you just wanted to sunbathe and perhaps paddle. You could easily have drowned, and you wouldn’t have been the first. Avon Bay has got a bad name. Shame on you Samantha Saunders, enough to give you poor aunt a heart attack.

Sam wished her aunt wouldn’t treat her as though she was still a child. At twenty-six she was old enough to make her own mistakes.

‘I’m sorry Aunt Rose, I completely forgot. I dropped off to sleep and woke up sweating hot, all I could think of was going in for a dip. I didn’t go under or anything it’s just the current was so strong; I couldn’t make any headway against it. I thought I was a strong swimmer. Back in London I used to regularly swim twenty lengths at the baths. Anyway, at least Sir Galahad was able to get me back to the shore.

Rose Tremaine snorted. ‘Is that what you call him? I’m grateful to him of course but he was rather a rough looking creature, not the sort of person you would want to meet on a dark night. Did you notice that scar on his cheek?  A fight you can bet your life. Gentlemen of the road, that’s what they were.’

Sam shook her head. ‘I thought he was quite handsome.’

‘Handsome, is it? Did you see his clothes? Down and out, I’d say, as was the fellow with him. Let’s have a cup of tea and try to forget. Put the kettle on, there’s a love.’

Sam went into the little kitchen and made a pot of tea.

She put the blue and white china cups and saucers on a tray. Her spinster aunt would never countenance mugs, everything had to be just so. It was all so different to life in Tottenham. She had lived in a council house with her mother and her father, an only child to doting parents. She’d loved her mother