The Old Lighthouse in Sunny Shore Bay (Sunny Shore Bay Book 8): Escape to the British seaside with t

Chapter Ten

The rattan kitchen chair groans as loudly as I do when I lean back and run my fingers through my hair. My CV is looking pretty bare - short of writing my name and my phone number, I haven’t got a lot to pad it out with. I’ve never had a full-time job in my life, but I suppose I held a couple part-time positions during university.

Dubiously, I type out Barmaid at Student Union Bar and Waitress at Tilly’s Diner, doubting the merit of each role. When I add the dates in, I wince, I can’t believe how much time has passed, and yet somehow, I’ve lived so little of life. Sure, I’ve jetted off to some stunning places and I’ve raised a beautiful baby girl, but … there’s nothing I’ve achieved or done that is just for me. Perhaps that sounds selfish, but for years, I’ve been so unfulfilled, especially when Penny grew old enough to go to school. I’ve got no real money of my own, no career to speak of, and until I met Mia, I had no friends that weren’t the wives of Jerry’s mates. It’s like I’ve been half a person for the last decade, incomplete.

I spend the next two hours applying for every job I come across - from shop assistant to dinner lady - I send over my lacklustre CV and cross my fingers tight.

By the sounds of it, Mia is still in the music room with a student, so after giving Hettie a little fuss, I leave the house inconspicuously, hoping not to disturb her.

It’s odd walking through the town on foot, I never thought about it much before, but I always relied on my car to get around. It’s silly really, most places in Sunny Shore Bay you can walk to, and the places you can’t, well, there’s a perfectly good bus service to ferry you about. Now I come to think of it, I haven’t used that bus in donkey’s years, not since I was a teenager, probably.

I can taste the salt on the breeze as I stroll along the promenade, but instead of lazing down on the sand or grabbing a cheeky cone of chips, I carry on walking, walking along the shore until I reach the lighthouse’s weathered door.

The smooth, aged wooden bannister is strangely comforting as it brushes against my palm with each step I take up to the chamber. Like a ship in the night, I seem to find myself inexplicably drawn to this place. Maybe it’s the calm it brings me, or maybe it’s the quiet, melancholy emptiness of it that so mirrors the feeling in my own heart, but either way, somehow, I’m more at home here than I ever was in the house I shared with Jerry.

I reach into my bag and pull out the leather notebook, ready to return it to its original spot. But as I enter the light chamber, I get the shock of my life.

‘Well, well well. Fancy seeing you here.’

Slack-jawed, I gawp straight ahead. It’s my Mystery Man! Well, not my Mystery Man, but you know what I mean. He’s standing right in front of me, leaning against the old desk in a tailored grey suit, his dark mop of hair casually coiffed over his forehead.

‘Oh, it’s you! I mean, hi again!’ I giggle like a child and warmth rushes to my face and neck.

‘Is that my notebook?’ He nods toward the journal clutched in my hand.

‘This - this one?’ I lift it up awkwardly. ‘I - I found it. A few days ago.’

‘What a coincidence, I lost it a few days ago.’

‘I didn’t steal it!’ I blurt out moronically. Flustered, I wring my wrists and scramble for an explanation that might dig me out of the hole I’ve just thrown myself in. ‘What I mean is, it was left here, and I picked it up and took it home. I … I suppose I was curious.’ With a weak chuckle, I hand it to him. ‘Perhaps I did steal it after all.’

‘I hope you at least found it interesting.’

‘Actually, I couldn’t make head nor tail of it.’ I plant a hand on my hip, my flirtatious charm beginning to creep back in. ‘A load of dates and random numbers?’

‘Ah, there’s nothing random about those numbers, they’re coordinates.’

I blink, confused. ‘Huh?’

‘You see, it’s not really my notebook either. It’s Henry Gills’, the lighthouse keeper of Sunny Shore Bay. I guess I kind of stole it too, or borrowed, shall we say.’

Ah, so that’s who H.G is.

‘Well, where is he? I bet he’s wondering where it’s gotten to.’

He looks at me as if I’ve asked where Winnie the Pooh is. ‘He’s dead. This lighthouse has been out of operation for decades now.’

‘Oh.’ Feeling foolish, I pick at my nails and clear my throat, praying that something semi-intelligent comes out of it. ‘So, you’re a history buff, then?’

‘Well, as the head of Sunny Shore’s historical society, it kind of comes with the territory.’

I’ve passed the historical information centre in town before, it’s a small, unassuming square building with big glass windows showcasing colourful displays inside. Once, when I was out with my sister and daughter, Kat suggested we go inside so Penny could learn a bit about the town’s history. I pulled a face and said she wouldn’t be interested, and led them towards the shops instead. What I really meant is that I wouldn’t be interested, but of course, I don’t admit this to the guy in the lighthouse.

With a warm half smile, he holds out his hand. ‘I’m Noah Gills.’

‘Claire Knight.’ I didn’t realise I was going to drop the Jenson from my name until I opened my mouth. It’s strangely empowering to reclaim my maiden name, as if I’ve clawed back a piece of my long-forgotten identity. ‘That’s interesting, you have the same surname as the old lighthouse keeper.’

‘That’s because he was my great-great uncle.’ Noah smiles as he beckons me over to the chest of drawers by the beacon. ‘I never knew him, of course, but I’ve read his journals and logs so many times, it almost feels like I do.’

With a creak, he tugs open one of the stiff drawers of the desk to reveal a load of books, each one almost identical to the one in his hand.

‘Wow, there’s a lot of these!’ I gasp.

‘Well, he manned this lighthouse for many years, and recorded everything. Can you imagine having the responsibility of keeping the ships safe upon your shoulders?’ His voice gains speed as he continues and his eyes shine with passion. ‘I’m actually writing a book about him, so I’ve been spending a lot of time here lately.’

‘Really? That’s so cool!’

He ducks his head, his enthusiasm giving way to shyness. ‘Thanks. What about you, what brings you here?’

Suddenly, I hunch my shoulders, all defensive. ‘Nothing.’

‘Come on, we’ve bumped into each other here twice now. One time, I might have believed you’d accidentally got lost on a hike and ended up inside an abandoned building, but twice? I have to assume there’s a reason you keep coming here.’

I’m all set to make something up but when I look into his eyes, soft and blue-green, they somehow urge me to let down my guard.

‘To tell you the truth, I’m having a bit of a tough time at the moment, and something about this place just … called to me. I guess I was looking for some sort of peace.’

‘Totally understandable, and there’s nowhere more peaceful than here, even in it’s current sorry state, its still beautiful.’ He looks around pridefully, as if the bare light chamber is his own living room. When he brings his gaze to me, I avert mine. ‘I’d love to restore this place to its former glory, but there’s just no budget in the historical society to prioritise it.’

‘Oh, that’s a shame.’ I run a finger along the desk and rub the thick dust between my thumb and forefinger. ‘To be honest, a quick clean would brighten the place up, and perhaps a lick of paint? Although I’m not sure we’ll have much luck finding a replacement light bulb at the hardware store!’

Noah laughs. ‘Perhaps not.’

We spend some time flicking through Henry’s logbook together, and Noah explains what it all means. The weather patterns, the ships’ coordinates, the intricate sketches of the waves, it’s all kind of thrilling. I never cared much for history lessons in school but here in the lighthouse with Noah’s scintillating storytelling, well, it’s a lot more engaging than listening to Mr Williams, my old teacher, drone on.

‘I wish I had such interesting ancestors,’ I sigh.

‘Maybe you do,’ Noah suggests as he closes the log book with a snap. ‘Have you ever tried to look into your family tree before?’

‘Not since I was in primary school, and we had to make one for a school project.’ I gasp, sharp and suddenly. ‘Wait, what time is it?’

Noah looks down at the silver watch on his wrist. ‘Quarter to three.’

‘Oh God, I’m going to be late! I’ve got to pick up my daughter from school.’ I rub at my arm, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. ‘You know, the one who assaulted you with her bucket and spade yesterday.’

‘Ah, yes, I’m surprised I didn’t need a cast after that brutal attack.’ When he chuckles, his eyes go all twinkly, and my tummy goes all fluttery. ‘What’s her name?’

‘Penelope, but we call her Penny for short.’

We. There is no we anymore, not since Jerry decided his work was more important than his family.

‘Penelope, that’s a cute name.’ A cheeky expression appears on his face as he cocks his head to one side. ‘So?’

I give my head a little shake to clear my thoughts, and promptly tilt it in confusion, mirroring him. ‘So what?’

‘So will I see you here again?’

Coyly, I glance up from beneath my eyelashes. ‘Maybe.’

Without hesitation, he tears a page out of Henry’s log and scribbles something down. ‘Here.’ He presses the neatly folded paper into my palm. ‘Some things you can leave up to the fates, but I prefer to write my own destiny. Give me a call sometime, yeah?’

Though I’m giddy inside, I will my face to remain cool and collected as I slide the page into my bag. ‘Maybe I will.’

As I turn on my heel, exhilaration ripples through me, the sort I haven’t felt since, well, forever! But the moment I’ve left the magic of the lighthouse, a cold shiver of guilt runs along my spine like ice. What am I doing? Batting eyes at some random bloke I met in an ancient, rundown tower when things with Jerry and I blew up mere days ago. Well, technically speaking, they’ve been a mess for years, but still, I shouldn’t be doing this. I’m a mum, for goodness sake!

And right now, it’s time to act like it.

I book it across town and arrive just as the kids are filing out of class. Penny excitedly fills me in on the day’s antics as we stroll through the school gates hand in hand. Since it’s such a lovely day, I thought it might be nice for us to walk rather than take the car. Plus, I’ve got to watch where my pennies are going, and using up precious petrol for a fifteen-minute walk is just not worth it.

‘Are you okay, Mummy?’ Penny looks up at me, her eyes wide with concern. ‘You look sad.’

Instantly, I force a huge smile to my lips. After all, I don’t want my child to worry about me, that’s my job. ‘I’m great, sweetie.’

But the silent storm in my belly and my sweaty palms tell a different story. If Jerry was just trying to teach me a lesson, surely he would have got in touch by now, if only to gloat about our less-than-ideal living situation. But I’ve not heard a peep - no calls, no texts, not even a bloody email. As hard as it is to admit, it’s clear as day he wants nothing more to do with either of us, a thought that makes my heart ache. Not for me, but for my daughter. Has she really lost her father over some poxy job?

Whatever the case, I’m all she’s got right now, and I have to find a way to provide for her. Whatever it takes, I’ll get us a home, and I’ll make sure that she never wants for anything.

I can do this, I will do this.