The Lighthouse Daughters of Puffin Island (Puffin Island #2)

Prologue

Puffin Island

October 1950

‘T he fog is coming in thick and fast,’ Betty Rose said from where she was standing in the window of Lightkeeper’s Cottage, which overlooked Blue Water Bay. A raging storm was something the residents of Puffin Island knew only too well, and the red and white lighthouse that stood six hundred feet from the harbour was a steadfast sentinel in the gale, its towering frame silhouetted against the turbulent sky. The lighthouse’s beacon flickered intermittently, struggling to pierce the dense fog, each rotation casting eerie shadows through the swirling mist.

‘Mack is going to be busy tonight and with any luck Eric will be back soon. I don’t like the thought of him out at sea in these weather conditions.’ She hugged her mug of tea, hoping she’d spot her husband Eric, a fisherman, walking across the harbour soon.

‘Never mind the fog, the baby is coming!’

Betty swung round to see Selby standing in the doorway, looking pained, clutching her stomach.

POP!

Selby’s waters broke with the urgency of a dam giving way. One minute ago, the two women were savouring the perfect mix of tea and cake, and now they were staring at a puddle on the living-room floor.

‘I just knew when I woke up this morning that I felt a little strange.’

‘Are you in pain?’

‘Am I in pain? YES!’ Selby winced as the tightening across her stomach took her breath away.

‘How fast are the contractions coming?’

‘Fast enough.’

Betty looked again towards the window before hurrying over to the chart on the wall. She quickly traced her finger down the dates on the left-hand column. As soon as she reached today’s date, she followed the tide times across the chart. ‘Selby, the midwife is never going to be able to cross the causeway. The tide is in and the fog is only going to get worse.’

Selby’s hands were cupped around her stomach as she gave out another groan. ‘We need to get a message to Mack.’

Mack Sinton was the principal keeper at Puffin Island Lighthouse. It was in the blood; his father, grandfather and great-grandfather were all keepers before him. There were three other assistant keepers he worked alongside and they had shifts of six weeks on, two weeks home. This was Selby and Mack’s first child and Mack’s home leave had coincided with the baby’s due date. They hadn’t planned for the baby coming early.

With the weather conditions worsening by the second, Betty knew that Mack was going to have his work cut out for him and that the keepers certainly wouldn’t be wasting time looking in towards the bay. Even if they did, it was unlikely they would be able to see the semaphore flags being waved from the harbour. One keeper would be operating the fog signal whilst the other tended to the light. And besides, there would be no way he could leave the lighthouse. The safety of the sea had to be his first priority on a night like this.

Betty was already listening out for the fog signal – an explosive charge at set intervals to alert the ships and guide them safely on their way.

‘I’m not sure we can get a message to Mack,’ she said gently.

‘Betty, we have to try. I want him to know,’ Selby pleaded.

Betty paused for a second, thinking quickly. ‘Okay, I’ll try.’

Rushing into the hallway and grabbing her coat from the wooden stand, Betty thrust her feet into her boots and clutched her gloves. ‘Where’re the flags?’

Selby pointed to the bag of semaphore flags next to the dresser.

‘I will be ten minutes maximum. While I’m gone, I want you to make yourself comfy on the bed. Try and stay calm.’

Selby nodded. ‘Can you remember how to use them?’

‘Of course. I stood by your side at the end of the pier watching you communicate with Mack in the first few months he was posted.’

It was part of the weekly routine to keep the men stationed in the lighthouse connected to their loved ones. Every Sunday at ten a.m., the friends and family of the lighthouse keepers stood on the end of the jetty at the harbour and communicated by the alphabetic flag signalling system, watched through a telescope by the keepers. The signalling system involved those in the harbour holding the yellow and red flags in certain positions to communicate messages.

Slinging the bag of flags over her shoulder, Betty opened the front door and hurried towards the bay. As the storm worsened all she could hear was the wind swirling around the cliff tops and the waves crashing against the rocks. Finding exactly the same spot as they had used every Sunday, she started signalling, desperately waving the semaphore flags in a frantic attempt to get anyone’s attention in the lighthouse. As Betty’s arms flailed in a wild dance, she spelled out the urgent message letter by letter.

S-E-L-B-Y I-S I-N L-A-B-O-U-R

But there was nothing, not even the hint of a sign from any of the keepers, which wasn’t altogether surprising as the weather conditions were worsening and their attention was undoubtedly occupied.

‘What are you doing out here? It’s freezing.’ She turned to see her husband Eric in his usual oversized black duffel coat, walking across the sand towards her. ‘We were lucky to get the fishing boat back in these conditions. It’s brutal out there. I can’t wait to get home and throw some logs on the fire.’

‘It’s Selby. She’s in labour. I’m trying to alert Mack but having no luck.’

‘I’m not surprised. He’ll have his work cut out for him tonight.’

Just at that second, the first explosive sounded from the lighthouse, causing Betty to jump.

‘You aren’t going to get Mack’s attention now.’

Betty leaned in and gave her husband a kiss. ‘The midwife can’t cross the causeway, so I’m going to have to deliver this baby.’

‘What can I do to help?’

‘You can row me over to the lighthouse.’

Betty and Eric spun around to see Selby standing there, huddled inside her coat. ‘I need Mack.’

Betty took her hand. ‘Selby Sinton, you are mad. It’s too dangerous! The explosives are being fired and the fog is becoming denser. Not to mention that the sea is choppy.’

‘Please, it’s only a short distance.’

Eric looked towards Betty then back at Selby. ‘I honestly don’t think…’

‘Please,’ she begged. ‘I need to be with my husband, I don’t want to do this by myself.’

Betty couldn’t even begin to imagine how terrified Selby must feel. The baby was three weeks early.

‘If you won’t row me, I’ll row myself.’ Selby was strong-willed but as another contraction hit her and she let out a cry, her wail could be mistaken for a seagull’s caw echoing all around them.

Betty took control. ‘Eric, get the boat. I’m coming with you,’ she added, turning to Selby. ‘You can’t give birth by yourself.’

Dubiously, Eric looked out at sea. It was only a short distance to the lighthouse but Betty knew that if anything happened to Selby on his watch, he would never forgive himself… and neither would Mack. The cannon was fired again.

‘Hurry, Eric, get the boat before we can’t see anything,’ ordered Betty.

Putting on a spurt, Eric hurried to the boat house. He untied one of the rowing boats and grabbed two oars before pulling it onto the sand and down to the water. After he helped Selby into the boat, she bent her head and hugged her knees.

‘I’m not sure this is a good idea at all,’ he whispered to Betty.

‘I’m not one hundred per cent either, but what can we do except hurry?’ They held each other’s eye before Betty climbed into the boat and squeezed Selby’s hand. The water was choppy, the air was cold and the temperature had dropped considerably in the last hour.

Eric began to push the boat into the water then waded through the shallows before he climbed in and began to steadily row.

He rowed in silence, except for the tiny whimpers that escaped from Selby, and it wasn’t long before they reached the lighthouse and Eric grabbed the rope at the side of the jetty.

‘Betty, can you climb out first? Try and keep yourself steady so the boat doesn’t rock.’

Once Betty was safely out of the boat she turned and extended her hand towards Selby. Slowly Selby climbed the ladder with Eric bringing up the rear after he’d secured the boat with the rope.

‘Thank you for getting us here safe.’ Betty touched Eric’s arm before looking up at the tower.

‘When shall I come back for you?’

Betty looked towards Selby. ‘Maybe forty-eight hours. I’ve left the flags on the harbour. Can you grab them and signal tomorrow around ten a.m.? I can give you an update.’

He nodded and kissed his wife. They all jumped as another cannon went off, followed by a siren.

‘Why the siren?’ asked Betty, looking concerned.

‘There must be a boat that’s lost its way and is too near the rocks. You need to get inside and get Selby settled,’ replied Eric.

Just at that moment, they heard shouting, and they all recognised Mack’s voice.

‘Mack,’ shouted Eric, his voice echoing all around. ‘Mack,’ he shouted again.

A panic-stricken Mack appeared, looking between all three of them as if he wasn’t quite sure they were real. ‘What are you all doing here?’ His eyes locked on Selby. ‘Tell me everything’s okay?’

‘I’m in labour. I didn’t want to have the baby on my own.’

Mack exhaled, bringing his wife in for a hug. ‘Get yourself into my living quarters. There’re fresh towels in the cupboard. I’ll be with you as soon as I can, but we are in the middle of a crisis.’

The explosion went off again. Stricken, Mack looked behind him. ‘There’s a boat that’s hit the rocks, and it’s possible there are women and children on board.’ Mack was obviously torn. ‘I’m so sorry, but I have to go. I have to help them.’ Mack hugged Selby again. ‘I love you.’ He walked backwards before turning and disappearing in the fog.

‘Mack, wait, I’ll come with you.’ Eric hurried after him, leaving Betty shouting, ‘Be careful.’

As Betty led Selby through the door to the inner chamber of the lighthouse and towards the spiral staircase, she realised that getting up the stairs was possibly going to be as much of a challenge as the birth itself.

‘Are you able to make it?’

Selby glanced upwards. ‘I’m going to have to.’

Slowly she ascended, clutching the hand rail and taking a short rest every few steps.

‘We’re nearly there,’ Betty encouraged.

As they reached the top of the staircase, Selby pointed. ‘That’s Mack’s room.’

Betty opened the door. The minimalist room – the walls grey, just like the fog that swirled outside the window – held only a single bed, a wardrobe and a bedside cabinet with a framed photo of Selby. Thankfully the space was heated.

Betty helped Selby to the bed and she sat down. She took off her scarf and wriggled out of her coat, which Betty promptly hung on the back of the door.

‘I can’t bend in the middle,’ Selby said, sounding helpless as she sat on the edge of the bed looking at her boots.

Betty smiled as she pulled them off then plumped up the pillow. ‘Do you want to lie flat or sit up a little? What’s most comfortable for you?’

Selby pushed herself backwards and lay down. ‘This feels as comfortable as I’m going to get.’

‘This is going to be a first for both of us. I’ve never delivered a baby and you’ve never given birth.’

‘Are we able to swap roles?’ asked Selby, managing a smile.

‘I think it’s a little late for that. I’m going to find some clean towels and get some water. I’ll be right back.’

The next contraction took hold and Selby grasped the bed linen. The time between the contractions now suggested that the baby was well and truly on its way.

‘I want Mack,’ she hollered.

Betty bustled her way back through the doorway and placed a bowl of water next to the bed along with a pile of towels. She wetted the flannel and dampened Selby’s forehead.

‘He’ll be here as soon as he’s able,’ reassured Betty, ‘but in the meantime…’

As Selby clutched her bump again in agony, it was clear she wasn’t going to hold on to this baby for much longer. She raised her knees and hitched up her skirt, and Betty helped to take off her tights and underwear.

‘I’m going to have to take a look at what’s going on down there. Is that okay with you?’

Selby nodded then reached for Betty’s hand and squeezed it so tight that Betty started to lose feeling in it.

Selby cried out in pain. ‘It’s coming!’

‘Try and keep calm and breathe through the contractions. You are doing really, really well.’

‘I want to push.’

‘Push on the next contraction.’

The next contraction was soon here. Selby moaned through it and Betty wiped her brow whilst holding her hand, then took another look.

‘The head is crowning. I can see the head!’

‘I need to push again.’

This baby wasn’t hanging around. Betty knew the next contraction was already on the way judging by the pain on Selby’s face. On the next push Selby gave it everything she’d got. Gaining leverage by pushing one leg against Betty’s hand, Selby gave a guttural scream and with one last push, a slithering bundle of life slid into Betty’s hands. She quickly wiped the mucus from the baby’s mouth and nose, and the baby let out a cry. Betty’s relief was instant.

Selby was worn out, tears of relief streaming down her face.

‘You have a baby girl and she’s beautiful.’ Wrapping her up in a towel, Betty gave the newborn baby to Selby.

Hearing footsteps hurrying up the stairs, Selby shouted, ‘We have a baby girl!’

Both were expecting to see Mack standing in the doorway. Instead, a grief-stricken Eric appeared.

‘Betty, I need a word.’

Betty knew that the look on his face heralded terrible news, and with a slumping feeling she stepped outside the room and pulled the door closed. ‘What is it? Has something happened?’

In a whisper, Eric said, ‘There’s no other way to say this.’ He briefly closed his eyes and took a breath. ‘Mack has been swept out to sea trying to help the boat that crashed against the rocks.’

Betty closed her eyes and hugged her husband, clinging on to him for dear life before pulling away slowly.

‘Are you telling me Mack is dead?’

Eric nodded. ‘Yes. There’s no way he could have made it to safety. The waves took him and we lost sight of him. No one could save him.’

Betty looked towards the door then back at Eric. She swallowed and blinked away the tears. Taking a deep breath, she slowly walked back into the room and closed the door behind her. There were a couple of seconds of silence before Eric heard Selby wail, her grief cutting through everyone’s core.