Chapter Eight
CHAPTER EIGHT
Sam’s ‘something special’ was, indeed, exactly what she needed.
For an hour or so, Lily had been completely entranced by the sight of seals basking on the rocks and cute puffins flying in and out of their burrows in the cliffs with their beaks full of sand eels to feed their pufflings. The idea of new life being born around this rugged coast gave her a warm glow. She could see how the natural beauty of Stark would cast a healing spell on anyone.
Even its owner had smiled more in the past hour than he had in the rest of the time since she’d arrived on the island. By the time she’d returned to the retreat hub, she was feeling energised and buzzing with creative inspiration.
While Sam went to work on a nearby cottage, Lily collected her sketch pad and a sandwich and set off to explore on her own. Avoiding the pest house, she returned instead to the cliffs where they’d seen the puffins. The breeze had freshened but the sun was still dazzlingly bright.
She found a sheltered spot on a low grassy bluff out of the wind, kicked off her trainers and sat in the shelter of a large boulder. The granite warmed her back and the sun brought a pleasant glow to her bare legs. Waves rolled into the cove a few feet below, with soothing regularity. Who in the world had a whole island all to themself? Or almost totally to themself.
She started to sketch, absorbed in capturing the scene, yet after only a few minutes, she was muttering in frustration that she couldn’t do it justice.
She tried again on a fresh sheet of paper … and again … until she was on her sixth attempt.
Flinging down the sketch pad, she let out a cry of frustration. ‘Arghhhhh!’
No one could hear her. It had felt cathartic, so she shouted again. ‘Arghhhh!’
Maybe she needed fresh inspiration. Ahead of her, she found it. Along the beach, beyond a headland, she came across a tiny cove with turquoise water glittering in a pool. The rocks surrounding it shimmered with bright green weed and cormorants perched offshore, drying their batlike wings in the sun.
Lily was seized by the urge to capture the scene. It only took a moment for her to scramble down the few feet to the beach, which was even more beautiful close up. The sand was strewn with tiny shells, in delicate shades of palest pink and cream. She hadn’t beachcombed for years and couldn’t resist popping a few shells into the pocket of her shorts. Soon, she’d abandoned her sketch pad and paints on a rock and given herself over to shell collecting.
She recognised limpets, cockles and periwinkles, and even some of the cowries that had given her cottage its name. All were tiny and perfect. She would take some back to the retreat and draw a still life. Perhaps she might collect enough to make a bracelet.
With the sun warm on her back, she felt completely absorbed in her task and soon climbed off the beach and onto the rocky spit that separated the sand from the pool. Its blue-green depths looked so inviting, she was tempted to strip off and dive in, especially as there was a sea cave on the far side that just begged to be explored. Its mouth reminded her of a sea monster gaping wide.
She poked around in the rock pools for a while, marvelling at scuttling crabs, urchins and jewel-like sea anemones. There was so much inspiration here.
‘Oh!’
She let out a cry as a wave rolled into the pool, crashed onto the rocks and wet her with its spray. That water was colder than she’d expected.
Lily decided she’d better go back and start sketching while all the marine life she’d seen was fresh in her mind. Bursting with ideas, she finally turned to head across the rocks to the beach again.
Only to find it had vanished.
It was now underwater, and waves were crashing onto the base of the bluff she’d climbed down. She couldn’t see her sketch pad or the rock she’d left it on; it must have already been washed away.
The cliffs on the other side of the cove were too steep and jagged to climb and she could feel spray on her face as more waves rolled into the pool, turning its unruffled surface into a churning whirlpool and crashing into the cave.
A desperate glance out to sea showed a yacht and a fishing boat, both much too far out for anyone to be able to hear her if she called for help.
She was cut off and no one knew where she was.