Chapter Two.
William
Who the hell was that? I watched from the stairs as the stranger forced her way in, but she had a key. As soon as she crossed the threshold, Leafpoint reacted; recognising her, but I’d no idea how. I frowned as she gazed around, eyes passing over me before she let out a disappointed sigh and left.
“Who was that?” I demanded. Leafpoint offered me her version of a mental shrug. “Don’t play daft with me, lass.”
Leafpoint hummed in my mind and then withdrew.
Bother! Who is this woman, and why did I think trouble was coming? I had enough on my plate for now; I didn’t need some meddlesome wench interfering. Blast and damnation.
Lyra
The next morning, I shoved the door open again, and the chill wind blew me inside.
The weather was freezing in Cornwall. Sure, it was February, but the sea breeze had a nasty bite to it.
I guess I was lucky it wasn’t snowing. I turned on the torch I was carrying, which thankfully the chain hotel had sold.
My light swept round, and this was obviously the kitchen.
The cupboards appeared sturdy, but there were no appliances.
Tucked under the curving stairs was a dining table for four.
That was it, other than it was also filthy.
Using the torch, I climbed upstairs into the next section, which served as a living area.
Above that was a library, then an office/study.
The floor above that held a large bedroom with an adjoining bathroom.
Slowly climbing the staircase, I discovered two small bedrooms with a shower room, and the landing above matched them.
The last level was full of boxes and barrels that I guessed contained items for the lantern.
The stairs stopped at a hatch above my head.
I shoved it open. Climbing the last few steps, I stared in wonder at the huge beacon in front of me.
This hadn’t been modernised. It remained the (by the looks of it) original lamp fixture.
Spellbound, I reached out and touched the window.
I could imagine the lighthouse keeper filling it with oil and striking the match to light it.
Turning, I gazed around the glass room and spotted a door.
Without thinking, I opened it and was blown backwards as the wind caught me.
My heart pounded.
Okay, that was a bad idea. Regardless of the railing, the widow’s walk might be better left until later!
I went back downstairs. Leafpoint had surprised me by having so many levels.
I didn’t know what I’d expected, but this wasn’t it.
Despite being a functional, important building, it was also a home.
There was furniture here, but it was old, broken, rusty, and absolutely beyond repair.
I daren’t sit on the mouldy sofa that had been left; who knows what lived in it.
With a smile on my face, I headed outside.
I needed to order a skip and buy cleaning supplies.
Before I exited, I flipped a switch and winced as the lights flickered, then came on. At least I had power.
I smiled. “That something. Poor Leafpoint, I’ll make you elegant and pretty again,” I promised, running a hand over the walls. I could have sworn a sound responded, but blamed my imagination.
My phone pinged, and I glanced down and gaped.
The stipulated allowance had just landed in my bank, and I stared.
Six thousand pounds may seem small, but that was a fortune to me.
There was another ping, and the ten thousand from Sonia’s Trust was received this time.
In shock, I headed over to my car and sat down, staring at my balance.
Any minute now it would disappear. It had to, but nope, it remained.
The urge to run out and splurge on clothes, books, and pretty things was almost overwhelming.
But then I also wanted to hoard it away in case it was snatched from me.
A third notification made me glance down, and I saw the twenty-thousand furnishing budget had landed, and I shook my head. Thirty-six k sat in my bank.
In disbelief, I called the bank and confirmed the balance.
Okay, first things first: breakfast. I was hungry, and I needed to make a plan.
I drove toward the town, a charming Cornish seaside community.
It was small, but I bet it had a café. I parked in a car park and walked down the high street.
The tiny marina made me smile with its boats rocking gently in the water, and there was a separate harbour.
On my way to finding breakfast, I stopped at a shop to buy a notepad and a pen. Spotting my goal, a café next to the marina, I grabbed a seat inside. Moments later, the waitress came over, and I ordered a coffee and a full English. I was able to treat myself.
I dragged the pad out and began writing.
Hotel–needed for at least a fortnight.
Cleaning equipment.
Contractor for a survey–to inspect that the lighthouse is structurally sound.
Electrician and Plumber. Check they’re up to code.
Call Joseph; he might know about the above issues.
Book a 40-yard skip.
Employ two house cleaners to remove the furniture.
Contact an internet provider.
Contact gas, electric, water companies, council, and so on.
Hire a painter for the outside of the lighthouse.
Update my personal address–urgent!
I circled the last one. That was highly important, and I needed to get a mail forwarding service in place too.
It was ten o’clock, so while waiting, I contacted the post office and arranged that.
I was finishing changing the address details on my bank when the waitress, Karen, came back with my food.
“Thank you,” I said, sniffing appreciatively. “Do you know a decent hotel, preferably not a chain one, that’s open?”
“Yes, there’s the Gull’s Nest. It’s very old and quirky but really pleasant to stay in. Mrs Penrose runs a tight ship over there,” Karen replied, and I nodded.
I looked up in surprise when Thea plonked herself down with a grin. “Can I have what she’s having, please?” Thea asked. “And perhaps some toast while I am waiting.”
“Did you just arrive?” I shoved a piece of toast at her.
“Yes. I drove home, packed, slept a few hours, and drove down at three in the morning. It avoided all traffic. Let me see,” Thea uttered, snatching the checklist from my hands.
“I’m going to copy this,” she said, and whipped out her own notepad. Amused, I snorted as Thea stole my list and drank my coffee. When Karen returned with Thea’s toast, I ordered a large pot for both of us.
“Have you heard from Poppy and Ophelia?” Thea asked with a wistfulness.
“Not yet, but we only met yesterday.”
“Guess they have families; they don’t know…” Thea broke off and shrugged, not willing to put into words what she felt.
“How lonely it is? No, they don’t, but nobody is alone now. Have you been and seen Seareef yet?”
“Yes. That’s why I need your list; mine’s been neglected,” Thea said.
“Leafpoint has too. I dread to think what germs are breeding there!”
“Leafpoint Lighthouse?” Karen questioned as she approached.
“Yes. I own it, and Thea owns Seareef,” I replied with a smile.
“No, you don’t. They belong to the Jasper family, who fled from here two hundred years ago. No Jaspers remain,” Karen stated, her demeanour changing. Her friendliness dropped and changed to suspicion.
“You’re looking at two; there are six of us still,” I said quickly, doing the math. I suppose I’d best include my father and uncle, who were alive.
Karen looked conflicted and placed Thea’s breakfast down with the pot of coffee I’d ordered. She walked away without another word and brought back extra toast. This time she banged the plate down, and Thea raised her eyebrows.
“Am I wrong, or has her attitude done a one-eighty?” she asked.
“Nope. Let’s eat, then leave. I don’t like bad service,” I replied.
We chatted about a few things whilst eating our breakfast. The town was nestled between our two lighthouses, which surprised me.
“I wonder why? It seems weird to build so close together.”
“Leafpoint Lighthouse sits on a strip of land that has seen more than its fair share of wrecks. The coastline here is notorious for being dangerous. Underlying sandbanks, reefs, jagged rocks, and shifting shoals meant that the Jasper Lighthouses were needed. You rarely get four lighthouses within ten miles of each other. This water has claimed too many lives,” an older woman remarked, settling next to us with a smile.
“I’m Mrs Penrose, I own the Gull’s Nest.”
“Yes, Karen recommended you to me,” I replied, holding out my hand.
Mrs Penrose shook it.
“I’m Lyra Jasper, and this is my cousin, Thea Jasper.”
“That explains so much,” Mrs Penrose muttered. “Which lighthouse is yours, dear?”
“Seareef,” Thea exclaimed.
“Indeed.” Mrs Penrose nodded.
“Would you like to elaborate?” I asked.
“Maybe a bit later, when we’ve got you settled at the Gull’s Nest. There’s a storm rolling in tonight.”
“Well, I need to find a hardware store,” I stated, pushing back my empty plate and drinking my .coffee
“Why don’t you settle in at the Gull’s Nest and hear me out first?” Mrs Penrose replied firmly.
“Guess we can,” I agreed. That made sense, I guess.
“I’ll wait with you, and we can head over together,” Mrs Penrose added and cast a look around the café. Confused, I followed her gaze and frowned. Most of the people present sat glaring at our table.
“What’s their problem?” Thea asked, eating a sausage.
“I’ll explain everything at the hotel. Just enjoy your food for now.” Mrs Penrose smiled kindly.
“Dorothy, we’re not in Kansas anymore,” Thea muttered.
“Come on, girls, I’ll pour,” Mrs Penrose said whilst Thea and I entered the cosy snug at the Gull’s Nest. It was a seventeenth-century inn with lots of dark beams and white plaster. I loved it.
I settled into a leather Chesterfield armchair as Thea sat on the sofa. A fire roared in the grate, and with the deep red walls and yellow light bulbs, the entire atmosphere was welcoming and friendly.
“Thanks. Why does everyone in the town look mad at us?” Thea asked.