Sea Glass Summer Read Online Free Page B

have to know about Willie: he’s a coward and canny as a fox, even when swaying like a tree in the wind. What he did was hole up in the cellar of the Cully Mansion. Everyone called it that; its name used to be Fair Winds. It’s been empty since old Emily Cully died way back at the start of this century. She was the granddaughter of a man whose statue is on the common.’
    â€˜I’ve seen it.’ Sarah instantly felt more alert. She found the Cullys far more interesting than poor Nan Fielding.
    â€˜I like to kid myself the reason I never married was because no living man could compare to Nathaniel Cully . . . caring for the sick, rescuing those sailors.’
    â€˜Did you know his granddaughter?’
    â€˜Not as a friend. Emily didn’t have friends. Too conscious of her family’s status dating back to the first settlers. Proud as a peacock that an ancestress of hers named the village. Her one true pal was her parrot. Luckily it died before she did. That bird had the foulest mouth I’ve ever heard. But Emily didn’t shut herself off as complete as Nan Fielding did. When the mood suited she’d entertain by way of what she called her soirees. Dried up tidbits, served on plates with spider web cracks. Once or twice I got included as part of a group. Emily had polio as a child; left her embittered. Have to feel sorry for her, but wouldn’t think her housekeeper had the treat of a lifetime working for her.’
    â€˜What did you think of the house?’ Sarah was remembering her reaction that morning on glimpsing it through the overgrown garden.
    â€˜Couldn’t turn for bumping into Victorian bric-a-brac. Items Willie Watkins could have turned to account if he’d got to them. All I ever saw of the place – with the exception of the powder room with its red flock wallpaper, thick with dust – was the living room; shadowy as a cave. Contained her bed at one end, a great four-poster with tapestry hangings. That room was where she spent all her time, boasting that she had never been in the kitchen for fifty years, let alone up to the second or third floors. And in all likelihood she’d never been down in that cellar in her life, not with her being crippled like she was. So no need for Willie Watkins to fear bumping into her ghost when settling in for what turned out to be a three-week stay.’
    â€˜Was his daughter worried about him?’
    â€˜Well, he wasn’t what you’d call missing,’ Nellie explained reasonably. ‘He was seen around in the daytime, showing up at the soup kitchen and going after soft touches for money. I expect the poor woman was glad of a break.’
    â€˜How was his hiding place discovered?’
    â€˜A policeman followed him back one night, with the result that he’s been installed ever since at Pleasant Meadows, a nursing home between Sea Glass and Ferry Landing.’
    â€˜No charges issued against him?’
    â€˜Waste of time and money to keep him in jail. Wasn’t like he could have stolen anything. The door at the top of the cellar stairs was locked; doubt anyone has a clue where the key went. Of course, the police notified the current owners of the house – that would be Gerard Cully and his wife, Elizabeth – and she did come down to look the place over, the first Sea Glass had the privilege of seeing her. That was the last of it so far as Willie’s brush with the law.’
    Sarah was glad the man had got off lightly. ‘I heard Emily Cully left the house to a distant cousin.’ Fully alert now, she was eager to learn more than she had from the volunteer at the museum.
    â€˜He also came in for all the contents, excluding the scrimshaws; those went to the historical society. That cousin was Gerard Cully’s father and, you may also have heard, he didn’t outlast her long. Don’t know that she’d ever met him, but blood counted with Emily.’
    â€˜From the