Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
O nce inside the cottage, Verity could see that the interior reflected the exterior. Minimal furniture, no warmth, threadbare curtains and worn carpets. Pete disappeared through the door. The clatter of china could be heard, followed by the whistle of a kettle. Verity’s eyes were drawn to an old dresser in the corner of the room that was full of books and framed photographs. The majority were photos of the band but Verity’s eyes were firmly fixed on one photograph, showing a very young woman whom she immediately recognised. Betty was watching her closely.
Verity rose and picked up the photograph. ‘My granny looks so young.’
‘And beautiful,’ added Betty.
She felt the reassuring touch of Betty’s hand on her arm. She sat back down as Pete reappeared and placed a tray on the table with three china cups and a pot of tea.
Verity had no idea what she was about to hear but her heart was beating so fast that she pressed a hand to her chest to calm it. Pete dabbed his eyes with his handkerchief and sat down in the armchair. He moved the cushion and let out a shuddering breath. Verity could see he was shaking and distraught.
‘How is Hetty?’
A bolt of fear shot through Verity as his question registered with her and she realised Pete didn’t know her granny had passed.
‘My grandmother passed away twelve years ago.’ Verity’s voice was soft, knowing the news would likely be devastating.
Pete gave a sharp intake of breath and wiped his eyes again with his handkerchief. ‘I’m so sorry to hear that.’
The room fell silent and in that moment Verity could see Pete’s heart had snapped in two, possibly for the second time in his lifetime.
‘I can see you’re hurting, but believe me, my granny never forgot you. I grew up hearing stories about Puffin Island and its wonderful people. She loved this place.’
‘I know, and then things all got messed up and when she didn’t get in touch after the postcard?—’
‘My granny never received the postcard,’ Verity interrupted.
‘She didn’t receive it? But then how did you get hold of it?’
‘It had been trapped in an old postbox at the side of her house that had been sealed up for years. I removed the postbox as I was prepping the house before I left, and had a look to see if anything was inside. That’s when I found your postcard.’
Pete’s face crumpled. ‘Day after day I waited for her to walk back up that cliff path. I put my whole life on hold…’ He paused for a moment as he tried to gather himself. ‘I thought the postcard would prompt her to get in touch as I told her I couldn’t imagine my life without her. And that was the truth, I couldn’t. What we had was real, and now I know she never knew how I really felt, and it’s too late to tell her.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ soothed Verity.
‘Her silence left me wondering what had I done wrong. The rejection was too much to bear and left me questioning whether she had ever truly cared.’
‘I’m certain she cared but can I ask, the postcard…what was the secret you shared?’
Pete looked pained, and Verity could feel her heart sinking.
‘When Henrietta was here in the summer of 1972, everyone fell in love with her. Joe, especially, wanted her to be his girl, but Hetty and I couldn’t deny how we felt for one another. The secret was the affair we never told Joe about.’
‘I think you need to tell Verity what you just told me,’ added Betty.
‘You played your part,’ Pete said, harshly.
Betty held up her hands in agreement but remained silent.
‘My real name is Wallace, but only my very good friends call me that, as it didn’t fit in with the image of the band. And because I lived in this cottage and looked after the welfare of the puffins the islanders have just always called me Puffin Pete, Pete being my middle name. Henrietta was actually the last person to call me Wallace. She thought it was very sophisticated but I wasn’t convinced.’ Pete gave a little smile. ‘I can see your resemblance to her now; you look quite like her.’
Verity stayed quiet. She could see from Pete’s face he was mulling over the past.
‘The summer of 1972 was the best and worst summer of my life. The band was becoming famous, screaming girls were arriving across the causeway in their droves and camping out on the beach just to get a glimpse of us. We still had everyday jobs, though they were becoming more and more difficult to hold down. Joe, my best friend, he hadn’t been lucky in love. He became a father at a young age and though his family sadly separated, he provided for them and was a brilliant father. One evening, he burst through the door of the cottage and announced that there was a new girl in town, and in the same breath declared that he was going to marry her one day. He said he could feel it in his bones.’
‘Granny?’
Pete nodded. ‘He was smitten, fell in love with her instantly. As they say, when you know, you just know.’ Pete swallowed. ‘I teased him rotten, telling him no one could fall in love that quickly, but Joe was adamant he’d never seen a girl so pretty. Hetty turned up in the pub that night with Betty.’
‘I’ve already told Verity that she lived at the cottage. Neither of them knew why your granny was here…’ she added, looking at Verity.
‘Until today.’ Pete gave Betty a stern look. ‘I didn’t know your grandfather had proposed.’
‘Hetty confided in me that she was trying to figure out the future she wanted, and I couldn’t break her confidence.’
‘If Joe felt so strongly, Pete, how did Granny and you get together?’
‘She told me that Joe was smitten with her and as much as he was a decent, lovely man, he wasn’t for her.’
‘And did Joe know how she felt?’
Pete shook his head. ‘Hetty was too kind to break his heart, but she never encouraged him either. She was his friend, and to her that’s all it was. Hetty was friends with everyone, the life and soul of the party, and fitted right in. But Joe had become fixated on her, always waiting for her when she came out of the tearoom or we would bump into her down by the beach.’
‘But you struck up a relationship with her, without Joe knowing? To save his feelings?’
Pete nodded. ‘We even kept it from Betty because we wanted to just enjoy each other without anyone else knowing. We also wanted to work out a way of telling Joe without hurting him too much. The last thing I wanted was to hurt Joe, he was my best friend. And I’m not proud of having kept it secret. I could see the look in Joe’s eyes whenever Hetty walked into the room.’
‘Or when she sang. Everyone paid attention then,’ added Betty with a smile.
Pete looked towards Verity. ‘That song you heard me singing, I wrote it for Hetty and she’s the only person I’ve ever sung it to.’
‘That’s where I’ve heard it before! Granny used to sing it whilst she was cleaning or in the garden!’
Pete’s eyes glistened with more tears. ‘I’m glad to hear that. Hetty is the only woman I ever wrote a song for. We were head over heels in love but now I’m not sure what to believe. I didn’t know there was someone waiting for her back home.’
Verity dared to glance towards Betty.
‘Hetty was my friend and whatever she told me was in confidence.’
Verity turned back to Pete. ‘How did it all end?’
‘Hetty left the night Joe died.’ Pete struggled to get the words out.
‘What happened that night?’ asked Verity, as an uneasy feeling swathed her. The mood in the room had suddenly turned very sombre. Pete stood up and placed both hands on the oak beam above the fireplace, his head bowed low. After a moment he lifted his head, and stared at his reflection in the mirror. He locked eyes with Verity through the glass.
‘I was responsible for Joe’s death. It was my fault.’
Silence sliced through the room. Pete’s gaze fell to the floor.