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

Chapter Twenty Seven

Kat is in hysterics when Noah and I arrive at her house. Rob’s arm is wrapped tight around her, but she’s not deriving much comfort from it, judging from the streams of tears that streak her cheeks. There’s no time for introductions, we get straight to the matter at hand the moment the purple front door is flung open.

‘I don’t know what went wrong,’ Kat sobs. ‘One minute she was here, the next, she was gone. Oh God, Claire, I’m so sorry!’

‘Calm down, it’s okay.’ I’m surprisingly calm as I comfort my sister, as I gently but firmly press her for the facts. ‘What happened?’

‘Rob was upstairs packing up boxes for the move, and I was in the kitchen, making tea. I thought she was playing in the garden, but when I went out to call her in, she was gone and the gate was open.’

A sickly taste like blood settles in the back of my throat. That is so unlike Penny, she knows the importance of staying where we can see her, and she’s never tried to run off before. The worst comes to mind - images of abductors and criminals flash before my eyes, and I have to clench my fists at my sides to keep from breaking down.

‘Think, Kat.’ I urge through gritted teeth. ‘Did she say anything before she went missing?’

My sister screws up her face as she tries hard to recall something, anything. ‘She said something about a message in a bottle. That she needed to try again, properly this time.’

‘What does that mean?’ Rob asks.

Drinking in a cleansing breath, I stand up as tall as I can bear. ‘It means I know where she is.’

With an assurance that I’ll call Kat when I find Penny, Noah and I jump back into my car.

‘So, where are we going now?’ he queries.

‘To the beach.’

‘So back where we started, then?’ he chuckles, though he puts no humour behind it.

I don’t respond as I start the car. I can only hope that my mother’s institution is steering me in the right direction, and that I’ve anticipated my daughter’s moves correctly. Still, she’s never been out in town by herself, what if she got lost on the way? What if someone got a hold of her before we do? Those worries don’t bear thinking about, but I can’t get them out of my head as we drive through the streets, going as fast as the speed limits will allow.

‘Keep your eyes peeled,’ I instruct Noah as I turn down Pebble Lane. ‘She might have not made it all the way yet.’

‘Got it.’

I park the car at the side of the road and we run down onto the shore, stumbling over our shoes in our haste. The beach is almost empty, just a couple of mums with pushchairs and a group of body-boarding teenagers inhabit it. We ask each of them if they’ve seen a little girl, we even ask Heather at The Salty Sea Dog kiosk, but no luck.

Despair threatens to choke me, and I tremble in terror of the unknown. ‘I don’t see her anywhere!’

The dreadful memory of Penny nearly drowning in the ocean floods my mind, and I begin to cry. Like a lifeline tethering me back to shore, Noah takes my hand.

‘Come on, let’s go to the pier. Perhaps she’s up there. And if she’s not, we’ll call the police straight away, okay?’

I nod, wiping the tears away. ‘Okay.’

The soles of my trainers barely scrape the ground as we sprint across the beach and up onto the pier. Twilight is beginning to settle over the town, so the festoon lights that line the boardwalk glare horribly in my eyes as I race ahead of Noah, sweat beading on the nape of my neck. Just when I’m about to give up, right at the end of the boardwalk I spy the most beautiful sight in all the world.

Penny.

She’s standing there, empty wine bottle in hand, whispering something to herself. Then she throws the bottle into the sea and watches as the waves carry it away. My body curls with limp relief, and Noah grabs hold of my arm to steady me.

‘She’s safe,’ his voice is gentle yet affirming in my ear. ‘Don’t worry, she’s safe.’

His words ground me, help me keep it altogether. Still, I won’t feel relaxed until I have her in my arms.

‘Penny!’

I rush toward her, my arms outstretched. Noah keeps his distance, standing a good few feet away to allow us some privacy. I appreciate his tactfulness, and grab hold of my daughter’s shoulders, carefully pulling her away from the edge of the pier.

‘What were you thinking?’ A torrent of conflicting emotions overcomes me and I can hardly see straight. ‘Auntie Kat is worried sick about you, poor Rob too. How could you run off and frighten them like that?’

‘I had to send my message.’ Her lower lip trembles as she ducks her chin to her chest. ‘It worked the first time, a bit, but then Daddy went again. I thought if I sent my message into the sea, the proper way, then maybe he would stay this time.’

Drawing in a shaky breath of sea air to calm my nerves, I bend at the knee and take hold of her shoulders, looking her straight in the eye.

‘Daddy isn’t coming back to live with us, sweetheart. I know it’s hard, but we have to accept that. He still loves you very much, but he has a new home now. Sometimes things change and no matter how much we wish they wouldn’t, we can’t stop them. All we can do is be strong and learn to live with the changes. And sometimes, they end up working out for the better. I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but this is one of those times.’

And for the first time since Jerry left, I truly mean that.

Penny closes her eyes and tears leak from beneath her lashes. ‘I’m sorry, Mummy.’

I pull her into a fierce embrace. ‘It’s alright, sweetheart. Gosh, you’re shaking like a leaf!’ I wrap my jacket around her, tutting. ‘You daft thing, you didn’t even take a coat out with you! You’re going to get sick if we don’t get you inside soon.’

‘If you like, we can warm up at the historical centre.’ Noah takes a pace forward. ‘It’s not far from here, and I always keep a supply of hot cocoa in the kitchen.’

‘Can we, please?’ Penny asks.

I hesitate - after all, it was my intention to keep Penny and Noah apart for as long as possible, I don’t really want these two areas of my life colliding. Then again, my little girl’s nose is dribbling and she’s trembling something crazy.

‘I suppose so.’

With Penny bundled up in my jacket, the three of us hurry across the promenade and to the town square, where the little history centre stands. Noah turns the key in the lock and ushers us in from the cold. The overhead fluorescent lights switch on in quick succession, illuminating the many display cases.

‘I’ll just be a minute,’ he tells us. ‘Make yourselves at home.’

He disappears into the back and leaves Penny and I to browse the exhibits. They go way back to the town’s conception, hundreds of years ago, showcasing mannequins dressed in old-timey garb and plaques of information detailing what life was like for the townsfolk back then. Behind a glass frame is a depiction of a lighthouse, no not a lighthouse, the lighthouse, the one that overlooks Sunny Shore Bay. It’s obviously what it looked like in its heyday, with the brickwork fully intact and the light shining brightly over the ocean.

So this is the former glory Noah wants to bring back to the lighthouse, I think as I study it carefully.

‘This place is so cool!’ Penny gushes as she gingerly reaches out to touch the glass. ‘Why have we never been here before, Mummy?’

I have no answer for her, not one that makes much sense, anyway. ‘I - I don’t know.’

So much care and attention has been poured into these exhibits. After reigniting a passion of my own - fashion - I now know how Noah must have felt putting these displays together, hoping to share his love of history with the people of Sunny Shore Bay.

‘Three cocoas, hot from the stove!’

I turn to see the man himself carrying a tray of huge, steaming mugs, each one piled high with squirty cream and mini marshmallows. Penny sips hers absentmindedly as she reads the information on the walls, utterly captivated by the tales they tell. Noah takes the time to talk through each display with her, and I watch as she grows more and more enchanted. He has a real way with words, a natural affinity for storytelling that has my little girl hanging on his every syllable.

After some time, he leaves her to explore by herself and sidles up to me.

‘Looks like you might have a history lover on your hands there,’ he nods towards Penny.

I smile in agreement. ‘Looks like it.’ Clutching the large mug in both hands, I glance up at him, sincerity on my face. ‘Thank you so much for this, Noah. Well, for everything, really.’

‘I should be thanking you, for all your help. It was your idea to spruce up the lighthouse, and I think we’ve done a decent job so far. And to top it all off, you found the missing log book I’ve been searching for all year.’ His grin could melt me on the spot. ‘The truth is, I couldn’t have done any of it without you.’

Unsure how to respond, I make a strange clucking noise and lift my shoulders in an awkward imitation of a shrug. ‘It was nothing.’

‘No, it was definitely something.’ He places a hand on my arm. ‘You’re something, Claire.’

His palm is warm and comforting against my chilled skin, and every hair stands up to attention with a quiver. I yearn to sink into his touch, to tell him how I’ve loved getting closer to him these last weeks. But then I glance over at Penny, and all those fears I can’t put to bed come crawling back.

I jerk my arm away. ‘We better go, Penny hasn’t had her tea yet, and she must be starving.’

‘Oh, but can’t we stay?’ I had no idea she was even listening, but Penny pops up beside us and takes hold of Noah’s hand, as if she’s known him all her life. ‘I want Noah to tell me more about the old sailors.’

‘Next time, kiddo,’ he says gently. ‘You can visit whenever like.’

I stand stiff as a statue, too weak to face Noah properly. ‘Say goodbye then, Penny.’

She reluctantly does as she’s told, but not before giving Noah a great big bear hug. ‘See you soon!’ she beams up at him, and he ruffles her hair.

‘See you soon, kiddo.’ He turns his smile to me. ‘See you soon, Claire.’

His eyes reveal there’s more he wants to say, but he’s not going to, not in front of Penny.

I turn my head away, my voice stony and stoic. ‘Goodbye.’

As I walk Penny over to the car park and strap her into the passenger seat, a heavy weight falls upon my heart. I feel Noah slipping away, with every cold word I speak, every rebuff, I’m losing him. I know I’m sabotaging this - whatever this is - but I just can’t help myself.

That goodbye felt final somehow, as if I’m closing the book on a story I’m desperate to keep reading. But I can’t, I mustn’t let myself fall again. What if we do end up together, and we get married? What if we move into a beautiful house, and then it all falls to pieces, like the first time?

I’m not sure my heart can take another blow. And neither can Penny’s.

I have to protect her, not just from misadventures and the unforgiving sea, but from men who lure you in with kind eyes and pie-crust promises. Noah’s not like that, not really, but still, if you give someone your heart, you’re giving them permission to break it. And my heart will not be broken again, nor will my daughter’s. She doesn’t need another father figure, one who will no doubt let her down and hurt her.

And if that means I have to be alone to keep her from harm, well, then so be it.