Free The Nonesuch and Others by Brian Lumley Page A

drink, a double I had bought him, and which I wished was mine: “Chef,” I asked him, “Gavin, what do you make of Mrs. Anderson, the Seaview’s boss lady?”
    “Eh?” he answered sharply, narrowing his eyes and lowering his glass. “What’s that, ye say? Janet Anderson? Ye’ve noticed somethin’ about that poor lass? Well let me tell ye: she’s one very unfortunate lady, aye! But not so unlucky as some I could mention. Hmm! Maybe ye’d care tae hear about it?”
    I said I would, of course. And as the drink went in so the story came out and the mystery began to unravel; by which time we had moved to a corner table well away from the other guests, where McCann could tell his story in relative privacy…
     

     
    “Unlucky, aye, Janet and Kevin both,”McCann reiterated, with a customary nod and confidential finger tapping his nose. “But as tae who was unluckiest…well, at least Janet’s still here!”
    “Kevin?” I raised a querying eyebrow.
    “He was her husband,” McCann answered. “And he had the self-same problem as mah old man and yeresel’—er, no offence! But ye’ll ken mah meanin’.”
    “No offence taken,” I answered. “And I’mnot convinced that I was ever a full-fledged alcoholic anyway. You see, it affects me very quickly and so badly that I’ve never been able to drink that much in the first place! But whether or no, I’m off it and glad to be.” Which was at least half true: I was off it.
    “Enough said,” said he, and again his nod of understanding.
    “So?” I shrugged, as if only casually interested. “This, er, Kevin is Mrs. Anderson’s husband? And he what? Ran off and left her or something?”
    He gave me an odd look. “Aye, or somethin’…” But then:
    “Ye ken,” said McCann, “I’ve always believed there’s only one right and proper way tae tell a story, and that’s frae the beginnin’. And for that I’ll need tae take ye back tae Polperro all of seven long years ago. That’s where they met and wed, and began their first business venture together: a small hotel that was on the slide when they bought it and kept right on slidin’. The Andersons, aye—a verra odd couple from the start! Janet, so straight-laced and, well, just straight!—but naturally so,ye ken? I mean: never holier-than-thou, no, not at all. Just a steady, level-headed lass. As for Kevin, her junior by some seven or eight years: he was a wee bit immature, somethin’ o’ a Jack-the-lad, if ye get mah meanin’. Like chalk and cheese, the pair o’ them, but they do say opposites attract. And anyway, who was I tae judge or make observations? Nobody.
    “As to who I really was:
    “I was the top chef on a cruise liner until I lost mah job tae a poncy French cook who was havin’ it off with the captain! Anyway, that’s a whole other story. The thing is, I was discharged frae mah duties in Plymouth in the summer, and so took time off to rethink mah life. A bit o’ tourin’ found me in Polperro, and that’s where I met up with Kevin in a pub one night. He had a few personal problems, too, for which reason he was sinkin’ a dram or two…or perhaps three or four. This was before Janet knew just how dependant he was becomin’—on booze, ye ken.
    “But how’s this for a coincidence, eh? Kevin and Janet Anderson, they’d purchased their wee place just a month ago, since when a cook they’d taken on had walked out over some petty argument or other. So there they were without a chef, and me, Gavin McCann, I was without mah cook’s whites! But no for long.
    “Well, I took the job, got mahsel’ installed in The Lookout—a place as wee and quaint as ye could imagine, sittin’ there on a hill—and cooked mah heart out for the pair; because ‘A’ they paid a decent wage and ‘B’ I really liked them. They treated me right and were like family, the Andersons. She was like a little sister, while he…well, I found Kevin much o’ a muchness as I mahsel’ had been as a young man