Chapter Three. #2
After parking in town, I wandered down the main street.
Even though some kitschy stores were clearly for tourists, I loved them; however, in February, there were no tourists.
I stopped outside a small white goods store and grabbed a kettle and a microwave.
The shop assistant didn’t seem to know who I was, and I carried them back to the car before heading to the supermarket.
“Go home,” a lady hissed in the street.
“I am home,” I retorted, and she glowered.
“You’re not welcome. We don’t need your trouble,” she continued.
“And just what have I done since arriving here, other than confront people about their rudeness? Case in point,” I replied calmly.
The woman looked offended. “You little—”
“Enough. All I did was accept an inheritance. I’ve not harmed this town or anyone in it. However, you’ve all been, quite frankly—rude, ignorant, and downright nasty. If standing up for myself and asking for common courtesy makes me public enemy number one, God help you all!” I interrupted.
“Well, I never!”
“Exactly, you never!”
“After two hundred years of being inactive, those four lighthouses are functioning!” a gentleman remarked.
“And why is that my fault? Was I here when they did? I assure you I wasn’t. Nope, I was being screwed over back in Dagenham, both professionally and personally. Not here playing with a lighthouse. I came here to start fresh and walk into this crapfest.
“What none of you seem to realise is this: I don’t need your approval.
I don’t need you to like me. There’s nothing you can do because I own Leafpoint.
So, keep spewing your hate, but all you’ll do is stop me spending money here.
And as I pointed out yesterday, with today’s economics, can anyone refuse a sale?
” With that, I continued to the supermarket. This town needed to get over itself.
“Why is the lighthouse suddenly functioning?” another woman demanded.
“How the hell would I know?” I hissed, turning back. “I arrived two days ago, yet it’s been working since Christmas. Maybe ask amongst yourselves who is messing with it!”
“She’s got a point,” an old man stated begrudgingly.
“Don’t knock yourself out,” I snapped.
“Now who’s being rude?” he chided.
Guilt flooded me. He wasn’t wrong. “You are right. I apologise for my disrespect.”
My apology took him by surprise, and his eyes warmed. He’d not expected that.
“I’m the new owner, but clearly you all know more than me. If you don’t mind, I’m tired of the constant hate.” With that, I collected a trolley and set off into the supermarket. Screw everyone.
The cashier from yesterday was on again, but she treated me differently this time.
She was polite, and while it was clear she didn’t like me, I couldn’t fault her.
What a miserable person she was. I grabbed my bags and headed back to the car.
This was meant to be my fresh start, and instead it was being ruined.
Amused, I popped the pizzas into the microwave and leant against the worktop.
Upstairs came the noise of banging and crashing, as the four teenagers broke down the rotten settee to bring it downstairs.
They had been brilliant today. None of them were rude or nasty, and they were keen to see inside.
They’d confessed to trying to get into the lighthouse when younger, but hadn’t managed to. The door had held.
I gave them a tour, and they decided to start at the top and work their way down.
I told them to leave the oil room alone.
Emptying that would be a mistake. They’d already cleaned out the items from the two floors below it.
Old, rusty bedframes had been thrown alongside mouldy mattresses and empty trunks, although I’d kept some in good condition.
The two bedroom levels were now clear. The teens were presently clearing out the main bedroom, which I guessed would be mine.
“Hey, Miss Jasper. My dad, Benny, is a carpenter,” Tom called as he came back in from where he’d been dumping a headboard.
“Yes?”
“What are your plans for the smaller bedrooms?”
“None really. I’ve only been here three days,” I replied.
“Why don’t you have some custom-made cabin beds?” Tom suggested. The microwave pinged, and I took the pizzas out and handed them to him. I put the next lot in to cook and turned back thoughtfully.
“That’s not a bad idea. Could he design something?”
Tom chuckled and pulled out his phone. “Here,” he replied, bringing up some pictures. I gazed at what was a beautifully made cabin bed. There was a double wardrobe, workspace, shelves, drawers, and a single wardrobe.
“Now that is pretty sweet,” I said with a smile, and Tom grinned.
“The room wouldn’t be so cramped,” he stated.
“No. Although one room needs a double bed at least,” I mused.
“Dad can make bedframes that curve with the walls,” Tom insisted.
“Benny is brilliant, Miss Jasper. Are they mine?” Dean asked as the microwave pinged. I chuckled, handed him the plate, and put on the third lot.
“Would Benny come and give me a quote, or is he going to ignore me like everyone else?” I inquired.
Tom laughed. “Dad’s pretty chill, and Mum would smack him around the back of his head if he bought into that malarkey. He needs work and would love this.”
“Phone him, see if he’s interested,” I finally said.
Tom beamed and headed outside to talk to his dad. Why do teenagers seem immune to the cold? I shook my head as two more hungry boys turned up, and I gave them their snacks. God forbid they didn’t get a mid-morning one!
Tom’s dad, Benny, arrived within the hour, and I headed upstairs with him. Tom popped up and explained his vision, and Benny nodded.
“Will you need anything else doing?” Benny asked.
“Yes, my room first, if possible, then I can move in. And I want the kitchen painted to buy things.”
“Tom and Dean are at college training to be painters and decorators. They’re Level Two in Painting and Decorating, if you don’t mind students. If they mess up, I’ll redo it—free of charge,” Benny suggested.
“That would be great. Do you know anyone who can paint the outside?” I asked.
“Best leave that to warmer weather, Miss Jasper, but I actually do. I’ll return tomorrow for a walk-around once they’ve completed removing the rubbish. Tom and Dean can come too. They can be labourers if you don’t want them painting and earn some pennies,” Benny suggested.
“Good idea, I’ll see you then,” I replied gratefully.
Benny drove off, and the lads kept clearing as I began cleaning the floor below the oil room.
Several times I heard bangs but put that down to the teenagers moving things about.
When the boys said goodbye, I paid them cash and added on a hefty bonus.
They’d done great, and I was pleased with their efforts.
The skip was full, and I was horrified at how much had been tossed away. I’d not realised there’d been that much furniture here. Sadly, most of it couldn’t be repaired or restored, and that galled me somewhat.
“Oh well, Leafpoint. The rubbish is gone. Now it’s time to get elbows deep in the dirt and clean you up. Make you pretty again. You deserve to be prettied up.”
I turned to grab the car keys and frowned. I’d hung them on the hook by the door, but they were missing. Puzzled, I searched around and found them in a cupboard. One of the boys must have been playing a joke, I decided, and locked up.
As I walked away, something made me turn back, and I gazed up at the main bedroom floor. A shadowy figure observed me from above. I was startled and moved backwards quickly. That had to be my imagination. It couldn’t be anything else. I was getting spooked; that was all!
Unnerved, I got in the car and, without a second look, drove away.
William
That woman was planning to live here. That was not allowed to happen. If she did, who knows what she’d unlock. I caught her name today: Lyra. It was as pretty as she was, but Lyra could not stay here.
For over two hundred years, I had kept the evil locked down and stopped it from escaping.
My life had been sacrificed for a reason, and I was not prepared to allow some heartbroken girl to endanger everyone.
I’d allow her to decorate the lighthouse; Leafpoint deserved that, and it would let me rest in comfort too.
It surprised me that ever since my unexpected guest at Christmas, I’d been able to manifest into a solid being. That wasn’t something I’d regret. Maybe she’d bring food, allowing me to taste it once more. That would be nice, I thought and began climbing the stairs. Time to attend to my duties.