Black Widow

“Black Widow”

“Hi, Edwin.  Glad you could make it.”

“You sound surprised, Mollie. Weren’t you expecting me?”

“I hoped you would come. I wasn’t sure though.”

“Well, after you dropped that bombshell yesterday about Mrs. McEwen, of course I had to come and find out what this is all about.”

“You probably thought I was crazy. You wouldn’t be the first.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy.  But I am curious to know why you are bothered about me staying at Beach House.  Before I ran into you on the beach yesterday, we’d never even met.”

“I know, but my instincts tell me you’re a good person.  I wouldn’t want any harm coming to you from staying in that curséd house.”

“Cursed. That’s a strong word. It’s a perfectly ordinary B and B, and Mrs. McEwen is just as ordinary, except for her amazing breakfasts. She’s pleasant, but not too friendly. It’s the perfect place to finish up my novel.”

“You’re a writer. What kind?”

“Mostly historical mysteries. I’ve been doing some research too. This whole area is rich with history.”

“Some of it is very dark. So is what I’m about to tell you, but it’s not fodder for something you’ll ever be writing about. It’s all true but may be stranger than fiction.”

“I’ll keep an open mind.”

“First off, that house and Mrs. McEwen are not perfectly anything.  It’s a long sad story. Do you have time to hear it?”

“It’s why I’m here, not that this was the easiest place to find. And what kind of a name for a café is ‘Wee Hamish’s’ anyway?”

“It was left to Wee Hamish by his father Big Hamish.  That’s all I know. And it’s private. If we were seen at one of the high street cafés, tongues would wag.  Most of these customers are fishermen, and they know how to mind their own business.” 

“Why would they wag? Tongues, I mean.”

“Drink your coffee while I tell you.  Oh, and I’d put a heap of sugar in it, if I were you.”

“I don’t take sugar, and I like it strong.”

“Well, you’ve been warned! It all began with Gertrude and her illness.”

“Who is Gertrude?”

“Gladys McEwen’s sister. After they were both widowed, they bought Beach House and ran the B and B for quite a few years. Here in Scotland the tourist season is short, but it was enough to pay the bills and keep them in a decent retirement.”

“So, what went wrong? I assume something must have.”

“It did. Everything changed when Gertrude was diagnosed with something terminal.  I don’t know what it was, so don’t ask.”

“I wasn’t going to. I was just thinking that would have upset their comfy lifestyle.”

“And Gladys McEwen now had a big problem. When Gertrude died, her half share in the house would go to her two daughters. Mrs. McEwen couldn’t afford to buy them out, but she had no intention of leaving Beach House, not alive anyway.”

“I can understand she would be attached to her home, but surely they would have made some provision for when one of them died?”

“Apparently not. However, as good fortune would have it, for her anyway, Mrs. McEwen’s son John had recently been made redundant – the usual corporate downsizing thing. He and his family lived near London, so Mrs. McEwen paid them a visit and suggested they sell up and move in with her. The house, as you’ve seen, is large enough to accommodate a big family.  Supposedly, he was willing, but his wife refused to consider it. She had a steady job which just about met the bills. Besides, she hated it here.”

“That east wind can be grim, and it’s cold most of the time. But the scenery is spectacular.”

“It’s what brings the tourists back year after year. I would never leave, but not many Southerners would live here, because of the weather.”

“Granted, Mrs. McEwen may have been looking out for her own interests, but it sounds like she also wanted to help her son and his family.”

“You’re right about the first but wrong about the second. She was only thinking of herself. Anyhow, she went home defeated. Not for long though. Gertrude died, and Mrs. McEwen renewed her offer. Her son’s prospects had not improved. They’d got worse in fact, and he eventually overcame his wife’s objections. After all the financial transactions were done, Gertrude’s daughters were paid off and the family moved in with Mrs. McEwen. And that set the stage for all the bad things that followed.”

“Still, it all sounds above-board, that’s if everything was done legally.”

 “Everything was done legally, but Mrs. McEwen’s solicitor somehow failed to include an opting-out clause in the contract. Convenient for Mrs. McEwen.”

“And her son?”

“Not so much.”

“I still don’t see-“

“You will.”

“One thing I don’t understand is why his wife went along with this if she didn’t want to move?”

“Now there’s a good question.”

“Well, you seem to know a lot about it all.”

“In small places like ours, word gets around. Not much stays secret, though I never heard anything specific. I did wonder-”

“About ….”

“Perhaps she had some sixth sense about Mrs. McEwen that warned her to stay away.”

“That’s just speculation.”

“It doesn’t mean I’m wrong though. Your coffee’s gone cold, by the way. Do you want another one?”

“No, thanks. It’s undrinkable. It looks and tastes like diesel oil.”

“It’s why I stick to tea. But you’d better not let Wee Hamish hear what you said.  He prides himself on his coffee.”

“I wouldn’t dare. He’s three times my size. I suppose his father’s even bigger.”

“Actually, Big Hamish was quite a wee man. So --where I left off.  The arrangement worked fairly well for a while. There was room for everyone, but Mrs. McEwen’s son still couldn’t find work. The same with his wife, but it was worse for her. Nothing much grows here, and Beach House has no garden, so she missed her little plot of flowers and herbs.  The scenery couldn’t compensate for it, though she did spend a lot of time walking on the volcanic rocks along the beach, watching the seabirds around the bird sanctuary. Even when the haar was thick, and she couldn’t see the birds, she walked. It wasn’t good for her asthma.”

“You haven’t mentioned her name.”

“Joan. It was Joan.”

“You knew her?”

“A little. If you will let me get on.”

“Sorry.”

“Right. Time went on. The two sons settled down more quickly than their parents and made new friends. Eventually Adrian, the older one, left school. He wanted to become an architect, but there was no question of going to college. He had to help support the family, so he took a job at the local garage and was on track for a mechanic’s apprenticeship. Then. Then.”

“Then?”

“It was a girl from London. She came to work at one of the hotels for the summer.  She was glamorous, charismatic – totally unlike anyone here. She set her sights on Adrian, though why she did was something of a mystery. He was a bit shy, though quite good looking. You remind me of him a little.”

“Is that why you’re telling me all this?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. He was a trusting soul too -- always wanted to believe the best of people – easy prey for someone like her.”

“It’s usually her kind who stir up trouble.”

“Observant of you. Personal experience?”

“No. Well, yes. A long time ago. I was an idiot. I got over it soon enough. No scars now.”

“Lucky you.  But this one did more than stir up trouble. She ruined him.”

“How?”

“Adrian was secretly engaged to a local girl, but when she saw the change in him, she offered to break off with him.  She hoped he wouldn’t, but he did.”

“And I suppose the new girl dumped him into the bargain.”

“Yes.”

“Classic!”

“But she didn’t do it until after he’d given up everything and followed her to London. It didn’t take long for her to find someone else. When she ditched Adrian, he went after her new lover, to fight it out. He defeated him, but it was no victory when the blood was pouring into the gutter. More like a cruel twist of fate.” 

“Twist of fate?”

“The other one had a knife. It’s what killed him.”

“You hear about this kind of thing all the time in the big cities. Such a senseless waste of a young life.”

 “I don’t have much sympathy for him, but it caused the real tragedy.”

“Was Adrian charged with murder?”

“It would have been better if he had. But no. He panicked and fled the scene. And ….

“And?”

“He hanged himself in his old bedroom in Beach House.”

 “Ah. That’s brutal. I wish I knew what to say, Mollie.”

“Don’t even try.”

“Do you mind telling me which room was his bedroom?”

“Why on earth do you want to know?”

“Just out of interest.”

“For what it’s worth, it was the blue room at the top of the stairs.”

“I’m only asking because Rupert once tried to get in there. He was quite persistent, but the door was locked. It took me ages and some bribery to settle him down.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. Dogs can often pick up bad vibes more quickly than a person. It’s hard to fool a dog.”

“He certainly seems to like you.”

“That’s because I just snuck him a piece of shortbread.”

“Then you’ve got a friend for life. But going back to that room. Maybe Rupert sensed something odd about it.”

“Malign, more likely.”

“Perhaps. But how do you know about all this?”

“Haven’t you figured it out yet.”

 “I think so. You were the girl he abandoned.” 

“Got it in one. We were handfasted and …. You know what that means, Edwin.”

“I’ve heard of it. You’re pledged to each other. Right?”

“That’s the gist of it. We planned to marry after his apprenticeship.”

 “I’m not good with words but-”

“You’re a writer!”

“Of written words. I’m not so great with spoken ones.  I can see that losing the man you loved first to another woman then to death would-”

“You don’t see, Edwin. You can’t.  No one can or ever will. What matters right now is that you believe me.”

“I do believe--.”

“Thank heaven.”

“At least, I believe you genuinely think there were dark forces at play. But it still doesn’t make Mrs. McEwen evil.  Perhaps if you got away from here, made a fresh start, you would see things differently.”

“A fresh start: that’s such a shopworn cliché. It would have made no difference.  I was always afraid of Mrs. McEwen.  I liked his mother though. She was a frail little thing but canny, and she tried to warn Adrian.”

“Who wouldn’t listen.”

“Do children ever listen to their parents? After he died, she lost what little spirit she had. She wanted to get away from the house, said it was cursed, but her husband wouldn’t leave. I’m convinced it was down to Ms. McEwen’s evil influence that he felt bound to stay because of her heart condition.”

“Heart condition? She seems as fit as a fiddle running that big house with just Annie to do the heavy work.” 

“Exactly! And this was years ago. It was just a pretext to get what she wanted -- sole possession of the house.”

“But she didn’t. She couldn’t. Her son owned half.”

“Technically, yes. But he couldn’t get his money back without her consent, so, in reality, she did have full possession.”

“But why was she was so fixated on it?”

“Adrian said it had been in the family generations ago but was lost in a family feud that no one remembered or weren’t saying if they did. The sisters bought it back for a pittance when it had fallen into ruin and restored it. There’s a dark history that seems to cling to her, but what it is, I don’t know.”

“It could just be superstition. Some tales get amplified over time.”

“It was not superstition, Edwin.”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you, but-”

“I was foolish to think you might understand.”

“I do understand why you’re distressed.  You have every reason to be. But there’s more, isn’t there?”

“Yes, and perhaps it’s the saddest part of all. The family was destroyed by Adrian’s death. His mother had never been strong and, when I saw her at the funeral, she already looked like a ghost. Mrs. McEwen wasn’t there. Said her heart wouldn’t stand the strain.  Adrian’s father and brother took his ashes back to England a few weeks later.”

“How long before his mother died?”

“You’ve figured that out then. It wasn’t long. She spent even more time outdoors in all kinds of weather. People were afraid she might fling herself into the sea, but perhaps she knew she wouldn’t need to. One day, she was simply not there.  It took people a few days to realize they hadn’t seen her, and later they speculated on why Mrs. McEwen didn’t call an ambulance sooner. Joan died on her way to hospital just before her husband and son returned. The official cause of death was heart failure brought on by asthma.”

“At the risk of upsetting you more, I keep coming back to why you believe Mrs. McEwen is evil. You can’t blame her for what her grandson did or her daughter-in-law’s death.”

“I do blame her. She only cared about keeping that infernal house. She trapped her son, then refused to help him rebuild his life.”

“She did what!”

“She refused to sell up and return his share.”

“How do you know? That wouldn’t be public knowledge.”

“I know this from Big Hamish who was friends with John McEwen. He begged his mother to sell up and go back with him to England. He would take care of her. The weak heart -- remember? She said she would rather die alone than leave. Which is what will happen. John McEwen left Beach House penniless with his son, and they haven’t been heard of since.”

“I should have asked this sooner, but when did all this happen?”

“Almost fifteen years ago.” 

“You would have been-”

“Eighteen. So was he -- both of us too young to see the wickedness right in front of us.”

“But it’s a long time ago, Mollie. You are a beautiful young woman. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such brilliant red hair and your eyes; they’re what, hazel? I’ve been looking into them for the past half hour, and I still can’t figure out if they’re green, brown, or grey.”

“They’re hazel – just hazel. Don’t try to flatter me.”

“I don’t do flattery, Mollie. But at least I’ve made you smile.”

“It was a grimace!”

“Not from where I’m sitting.  But I’m serious. There’s still time for you to build a new life.  A husband, children maybe.”

“Not for me. There will never be another Adrian, and I can’t ever get over how a mother could do such terrible things to her family after all they had suffered.”

“If it’s all true, I don’t know either.  But there’s still something you haven’t told me. I can see it in those lovely eyes of yours. They’ve gone all grey and cloudy.”

“I’ll take your word for it. It’s about the night of the killing. I’ve never told anyone this, but Adrian came to me. He was in such a dreadful state I was afraid for him. I promised to stand by him, as a ... as a friend, and it seemed to help. We talked well into the night. Eventually he agreed to go home and tell his parents, then give himself up to the police.”

“But he didn’t?”

“I never knew what he did. By next morning he was dead. Nothing was said about suicide, but I know he hanged himself.”

“How?”

“How he hanged himself? I can’t say. How did I know? I just did. And Mrs. McEwen had a hand in it. When he left me, he was calm, ready to face the consequences whatever they might be. Suicide was never on his mind. He would never have taken the coward’s way out.”

“There’s nothing I can say-”

“There isn’t, and I’ve said all I came to say. I had to warn you and, now that I have, I must go.” 

“Thank you, Mollie, but don’t worry.  Rupert’s with me, and I’m leaving tomorrow. Tonight though, I’m having a drink with Mrs. McEwen, and I might just play the inquisitive author and try to get at her version of what happened.”

 “You mustn’t, Edwin. You absolutely mustn’t. This is not a game or research for some book you’re writing. The public version is that Adrian was visiting a friend in London where he fell victim to a random assault and died in hospital there. His mother died from an asthma attack, and the rest of the family returned to England.  All terribly sad of course. Everyone here will tell you the same story. Mrs. McEwen’s family has lived here for generations, so the village would close ranks against any outsider who might threaten her, especially the English. It’s what you will hear from Mrs. McEwen if you try to winkle it out of her. But she won’t take kindly to you doing it. It could put you in danger.”

“How could it?”

“If she thinks you’re trying to ferret out a truth that’s been buried all these years, then yes, you would be in danger. You must believe me when I say she is evil.  If I’ve convinced you of nothing else, you must believe this.”

“She’ll never suspect why I’m asking. She can’t possibly know we’ve met. Like I said; I’ll keep an open mind.”