Chapter 3
Chapter Three
T wo days later, Dilly woke to the calls of the seagulls and the sound of waves crashing through her open window. Already feeling the warmth of the day, she pushed back her duvet and swung her feet to the floor. All of a sudden there it was again, that light-headed feeling. She stayed sitting until finally it passed and then slowly got to her feet. She knew there had been a virus going around – was it possible it was finally catching up with her? Painting into the early hours also likely hadn’t helped, but it had to be done as that was when she painted best, the one time of day with no distractions. Moving to the window, she pulled back her curtains. The view was perfect; the sun was already high in the sky, the sea was rolling into the bay and the lighthouse stood on guard. She smiled. This was exactly the reason she loved Puffin Island and, with the gallery closed today and the sun shining brightly, she planned to embrace the beautiful weather and paint near the harbour. It was the perfect spot, not just for capturing the scenery, but also for catching up with her dad throughout the day. She really wanted to run past him her thoughts on buying the lighthouse.
With a surname like his, Ralph Waters was probably destined to work on the waves. He grew up on Puffin Island, just like the four generations before him, and he’d started working at the local boat house at sixteen. He had now been the proud owner for nearly thirty years.
His youthful days had been filled with family sailings on his father’s yacht, and he was given his first boat by his father for his seventh birthday. She was five feet in length and called No Fin Better . Ralph was hooked, and it was clear from that moment on that boats were going to be his life. Through his teens the boats he captained grew, until he proudly purchased his first yacht, aged eighteen. She was in need of repair and Ralph spent every minute and penny on that boat until she was ready for sea six months later.
Last night Dilly had gone to sleep with two things on her mind. Firstly, excitement had taken over. Even though she didn’t know the state of the interior of the lighthouse, in her mind she had the auction won, the new gallery opened, and she was living happily in her new home. Secondly, Max Harrington. His visit had taken her completely by surprise. Her love of art had started at school and after her exams, she knew it was exactly what she wanted to do with her life. Studying art at college was the natural next step and even though her mother and father were separated by then, they were both very involved and very supportive of her choice of career. They had outlined the pros and cons, the main con being that it was difficult to make a living out of selling paintings, but ultimately Dilly believed in herself and her ability to make it, and so they did too.
Art college was one of the best periods of her life and a huge part of that was down to Max. On a weekly basis he’d shared art books with her. He’d encouraged her to study different artists and their style, and to experiment with colour. Just like Max, Dilly loved contemporary art and wanted to paint with warmth and humour, and that’s when the idea of whimsical puffins and coastal paintings was born. Paint what you know and what you love was always Max’s advice, and so that’s exactly what she had done. After art college her dream of opening a gallery had become a reality, and with her recent success, Dilly felt inspired to give back and nurture young talent who felt the same passion for art. She wanted to use her experience to help others, and with a second premises she could make her own gallery even bigger and better, and use the original gallery specifically to showcase other local artists’ work and offer classes to nurture emerging talent in the community.
Hearing her phone ping, Dilly looked at the screen. It was a text from Clemmie.
I’ve rounded up the troops for Art Class but I had to text you, you are NEVER going to guess who has just walked into the tearoom!
Dilly suspected she knew exactly who’d just walked into the tearoom, which meant that Max was still on the island. She liked the thought.
Before she could reply, another text came through, this time from Amelia.
I’m sure I’ve just seen our college crush walk past the bookshop! Remember Mr Harrington?
Dilly could never forget him because it wasn’t just a college crush for her, it was something much deeper. But she never shared those feelings with her best friends, feeling too embarrassed to admit she had fallen for someone so off limits, given that Max was both her teacher and married. Nobody other than her diary ever knew, but Dilly had fallen completely in love with him.
It wasn’t just because he was goddamn sexy; he was also the whole package. He wasn’t like boys her age, who got their kicks out of racing their cars over the causeway in the middle of the night. He was mature, dressed in style, held intelligent conversations and was passionate about art. Max was always the professional, and he never crossed any boundaries, but that never stopped Dilly wondering what it would be like to kiss him… on many occasions.
Still smiling at Clemmie’s text, Dilly wondered whether to burst her bubble or play along. She went for the latter.
I’ve no idea, do tell!
The reply came instantly.
Sexy Mr Harrington! Still as sexy as ever too!
Dilly pinged back, smiling.
I think I remember him!
Who could forget him?! What are you doing with your day off today?
The sun is shining so I’m off to paint at the harbour!
Dilly also planned to call in at the tearoom and grab her father’s favourite guilty pleasure… a chocolate flapjack.
* * *
A couple of hours later, with her easel under her arm along with a foldaway stool, Dilly loaded her paints and brushes into her bag and set off towards the harbour, calling in at the tearoom on her way. Leaving her stuff at the gate, she passed through the open tearoom door to find there wasn’t a vacant table in sight inside.
‘Business is booming!’ she called to her bestie.
Clemmie swung around and greeted Dilly with a smile. ‘I shouldn’t complain but it’s been non-stop since we opened. The good weather brings people out in their droves.’
‘It’s your own fault for having such a good reputation.’
‘Probably!’ Clemmie smiled. ‘So…’ She raised a brow suggestively. ‘Mr Harrington is in town! You do remember him, don’t you?’ Clemmie was wiping her hands on her pinny as Dilly had pointed to the chocolate flapjacks she wanted from the glass dome on top of the counter.
‘Mr Harrington…?’ Dilly feigned a confused look.
‘You are kidding me, right? Your hot art teacher. The one we stalked at lunchtime to see where he ate. We’d hang around the art block hoping for a glimpse of him and…’
‘Oh, that Mr Harrington. I think I remember him. Still hot, you say?’
‘Not aged a bit, and still has that sexy stubble going on. And those eyes! Anyone could get lost in those eyes.’ Clemmie put her hands on her heart before leaning in and looking around the tearoom to make sure no one was listening.
Dilly leaned in too. ‘You’ve gone all secretive.’
‘There’s something else I noticed about him, too.’
‘Which was?’
‘He’s no longer wearing his wedding ring.’ Clemmie’s eyes widened.
That was an interesting piece of information, and one Dilly could kick herself for not noticing herself.
‘Maybe he’d been for a swim in the sea and had taken it off,’ replied Dilly, thinking out loud.
‘Or maybe he no longer has a wife.’ Clemmie gave Dilly a pointed look.
Back at college, they’d all Googled Mrs Lydia Harrington. She came from a family of plastic surgeons who owned an exclusive clinic for the rich and famous on the outskirts of the Cotswolds. According to Google, they were one of the richest families in the United Kingdom. Within the first couple of years of being married to Max, Lydia and her siblings had opened up a couple more clinics, one being in Northumberland on the outskirts of Sea’s End, the nearest town to Puffin Island. Dilly, who had never contemplated plastic surgery in her life, had wondered how many people in and around the Sea’s End area would ever consider it. But when Clemmie had pointed out that the ferries brought in clients from abroad just like the tourists to Puffin Island, they knew that Lydia was on to a winner.
‘They were like chalk and cheese,’ continued Clemmie.
‘Who were?’
‘Mr and Mrs Harrington. She was all manicured nails, Jimmy Choo shoes, Mulberry handbags and expensive cars, whereas Mr Harrington was so…’
‘Normal, down to earth, rode to college on an old bicycle, had the most gorgeous floppy hair, eyes you could get lost in, a heart-melting smile and that sexy tiny scar at the top of his cheekbone.’ Dilly realised she might have admitted a bit too much and coughed and looked away.
When she looked back at her friend, she found Clemmie had cocked an eyebrow and had a knowing look in her eye. ‘A second ago you didn’t know if you actually remembered him and now you remember his sexy tiny scar at the top of his cheekbone?’
‘It’s all come flooding back!’ As had Dilly’s hormones, which had been dancing through her body every time she thought of him… which had been a number of times since he’d walked into the gallery. In fact, he’d been the last thing she thought about before falling asleep last night and the first thing she thought about when she’d woken up.
Dilly handed over the cash for the flapjacks. ‘I’ll take these to Dad. I’m going to run past him my idea about bidding on the lighthouse.’
‘I think it’s a brilliant idea. Everyone on the island will be delighted it’s gone to an islander rather than an outsider, especially with your connection to the lighthouse.’
‘It just depends on the finances. I’ll have to work out what my highest bid can be and pray no one can go higher, but I’m sure there will be a number of property developers who will want to snap it up.’
‘What will be, will be, and anyway you don’t have to make a decision until you’ve had a look around.’
‘I’ve got a feeling I’m going to fall in love with the place. Thanks for these.’ She held up the white paper bag. ‘I’ll catch up with you later.’
* * *
As Dilly walked towards the harbour in the beautiful weather, the soft breeze carried the salty scent of the sea. She stared out towards the fishing boats that bobbed lazily on the sparkling water, their reflections dancing in the sunlight. The whole place had a sense of calm. This part of Puffin Island was quieter than the main bay but just as picturesque.
‘Dad!’ Dilly called out, spotting him through the open doors of the boat house.
The old boat house had been a huge part of Dilly’s life. As a child she would often accompany her dad to work and she was well used to the scent of aged wood filling the air, mingling with the faint, briny aroma of the sea. Outside the boat house there were oars, life jackets and fishing gear hanging on the walls, and inside an array of boats and equipment was neatly stored, ready for use. As usual, Ralph was covered in grease and paint and wearing the same old overalls that had definitely seen better days. His footsteps echoed softly on the wooden floor and a smile spread across his face as he came to greet her at the door.
‘Here she is. My favourite daughter. I wondered if you’d be out painting today.’
Dilly balanced her easel against the doorframe and dropped her bag to the ground before she kissed her dad on the cheek. Holding up a white paper bag, she said, ‘I’ve got your favourite flapjack, and I wondered if you had five minutes. I want to talk to you about something.’
‘Now that sounds serious.’
‘Just looking for a little bit of advice. I’m not sure if my heart is overruling the common sense in my head and whether I should let it.’
Ralph pointed to the rock just in front of the boat house down by the water. The rock had been home to so many special conversations between them, a place they’d sat together over the years, contemplating the world and making sense of life. As soon as they were perched on top of the rock, Dilly passed one of the flapjacks to her dad and took the other, catching the crumbs with her hand as she took the first bite.
‘What’s on your mind?’
‘I’ve been thinking about something important…’
‘I knew this day would come and I’ve been dreading it. Go on.’
‘What are you on about? You’ve lost me.’
‘You’ve achieved great things as an artist and this is only the beginning. I want you to know I am so proud of you. I knew you would outgrow Puffin Island and need to be in London, Edinburgh or even Paris to carry on growing and catapulting your art around the world.’
Immediately Dilly realised why there was anxiety etched on her dad’s face. ‘London, Edinburgh or Paris? You have to be joking! Who could ever give up all this just to earn a little more money and possibly be a little more famous?’ She smiled. ‘Dad, I’m going nowhere. This place is my life, and you are here. I could never leave Puffin Island. It’s my home.’
Tears welled up in Ralph’s eyes. ‘I can’t tell you how relieved I am to hear that. You do know your mum would be so proud of you, too.’
‘I know. It still hurts every day that I can’t just speak to her.’
Ralph nodded. Dilly admired her dad. Even though her parents had divorced when she was young, they’d still had the utmost respect for each other and had always put her first. Something she knew must have been tough for her dad, especially as her mum had moved on so quickly with someone else, soon after they’d split.
She pointed towards the lighthouse. ‘I want to talk to you about that place.’
‘The lighthouse?’
‘You know I’ve been infatuated with the lighthouse since I was a child.’
‘You have. Selby used to tell you exciting stories about it.’ Ralph gave a little chuckle. ‘I can remember the time you decided you were going to run away from home when we wouldn’t let you stay up past your bedtime. You sneaked out but Betty clocked you from her cottage and followed you to Blue Water Bay. You’d decided you were going to hide out in the lighthouse, but your plan was floored as there was no road or jetty to it back in those days, and you were too small to even hold an oar to row a boat across. You sat down in one of the boats on the sand and Betty found you sulking.’
Dilly laughed. ‘I can remember when Betty brought me home and the looks on both your faces, as you thought I was fast asleep in bed.’
‘After that incident, your mum spent many years checking in on you nightly to make sure you didn’t do it again.’
‘Got to love a headstrong child.’ She playfully nudged her dad’s elbow. ‘There’s a profound sense of history and family heritage to that place.’
‘Yes, there is. The lighthouse stands as a testament to your grandfather’s diligent service, guiding ships safely to shore.’
‘And my mother’s unique beginnings.’
‘When I was married to your mum, we researched the history of the lighthouse, and specifically the storm that raged the night she was born. Every source agreed it was the worst storm ever to hit Puffin Island. There were a number of lives lost that night, including your grandfather’s.’
Suddenly Dilly was choked. ‘I can’t imagine how Granny got through it all. I was talking about it with Betty a few days ago.’
‘Selby Sinton was a strong woman. She didn’t suffer fools, but she was a fair, lovable woman. You already know that though.’ Ralph smiled. ‘When I first started dating your mum, she often put me in my place, but I have to admit she was always right.’ Ralph glanced across towards the lighthouse.
‘Did you know the lighthouse is up for auction?’
‘Yes, I saw the article in the newspaper. That place will generate a lot of interest. I’m sure a lot of wealthy people will bid. I just hope it stays in keeping with Puffin Island’s style and way of life.’
They both fixed their gaze across the water.
‘Dad, that’s where I come in. I’m thinking of transforming the premises on Lighthouse Lane into a community space, somewhere I can hold art classes and showcase local talent. I could do it if I moved my own work to somewhere new – the lighthouse, in fact – and established a new gallery there. It fits perfectly with the themes of my paintings of lighthouses, puffins and the sea.’
Ralph swung his gaze towards his daughter. ‘Are you serious? You’re thinking of bidding on the lighthouse?’
‘Owning the lighthouse would mean preserving a piece of our family’s legacy. I think I really need to do this.’
‘It’s true, if you owned the lighthouse the history it holds would be carried forward to future generations.’
Dilly smiled. ‘Future generations are a long way off, but yes, if the price is right, I could make it my own and preserve it the way it deserves. I have my inheritance from Mum just sitting there, and I need proper living space because my flat above the gallery has been feeling increasingly cramped. The lighthouse has eight storeys, and I quite like the idea of living amongst the clouds.’
‘You’ll have the best view of Puffin Island, there’s no doubt about that.’
‘I can wave to you every morning from the top of the tower,’ she said, smiling. ‘It might be just a dream and I’m sure other investors will be in a better financial position than me, but something’s telling me I have to try. It’s just… I’ve no idea what it’s going to be like on the inside and how it would actually be living in the lighthouse.’
‘There will be rules and regulations to follow regarding the upkeep, but since they’ve built the road to the lighthouse, and the jetty, it at least makes it more accessible. I think you’d attract a lot of tourists who will be curious to see what’s inside. Have you worked out your financials?’
Dilly shook her head. ‘Not yet, that’s this week’s task, as I’ve no clue what anyone will be bidding or what it’s even worth.’
Ralph looked thoughtful, his brow furrowed. ‘It’s going to be the most sought-after location on Puffin Island. You need to take a look around first, get a feel of the place. Then, if you like it, go for it. You don’t know unless you try.’
‘The open day is next Monday. My only worry is: what if I fall in love with the place and I don’t win?’
‘That’s simple. It just means that it wasn’t meant to be and something else will come along.’
‘I know, but I already want it so badly. My latest painting features the lighthouse, and I had my grandparents in mind when I painted it. I think that was a sign. I would even go as far as saying it’s my best yet.’
‘All of your paintings are the best,’ her dad said supportively.
‘I’m about to work on something a little different,’ she admitted, looking towards her easel. ‘It’s something for me, like nothing I’ve ever painted before.’
‘Are you going to share?’
Dilly smiled. ‘I’m attempting a portrait… of Mum. More of a serious painting.’
‘I’ll look forward to seeing it. And I’m looking forward to seeing how it goes with the lighthouse.’
‘Fingers crossed. For now, okay to set up here for the day?’ Dilly nodded to the small stretch of sand in front of her. ‘I want to be close by.’
‘Of course you can. You’ve come a long way in the last year and handled yourself so well.’
Dilly knew exactly what her father was referring to… Giles Fox. Her father had never warmed to him and had expressed his doubts on numerous occasions. He often mentioned that he just didn’t have a good feeling about Giles, even though he rarely interfered in her personal life. His concern had created a small rift between them, one that lingered in the background for a while, causing Dilly to downplay the seriousness of her relationship when talking to her father, even though Giles was still a significant part of her life at the time.
‘I’m never going to let myself fall for another man again.’
‘You will, but next time it’ll be the right one. Someone you deserve and who deserves you.’
As her dad spoke the words, Max Harrington popped into her thoughts. She wondered if her dad would remember him. She’d often spoken about him during her college days. ‘You’ll never guess who walked into the gallery yesterday.’
Before her dad could answer, the boat house phone rang out in the office. Ralph looked over his shoulder. ‘I need to get back to work, but first let me introduce you to Luke’s replacement. He’s here for six months until Luke hopefully tires of travelling the world and comes back.’
‘Youngsters of today,’ joked Dilly, standing up and brushing herself down. She followed her dad inside to the office where a man was standing with his back to her. He hung up the phone and turned around, locking eyes with her.
‘Max, let me introduce you to my daughter, Dilly.’
Dilly was stunned and Max looked just as surprised to see her as she was to see him. Why was he working in the boat house? Max was a brilliant, passionate artist who had mentored hundreds of student artists. The contrast between his past career, filled with creative brilliance, and his new job performing manual labour in the boat house was striking.
She took in his tousled hair, slight stubble and olive-green overalls, as his eyes widened and the penny dropped that she was Ralph’s daughter.
‘What are you doing here?’ she asked, the unexpected sight of him giving her that usual flip of the stomach.
‘Do you two know each other?’ asked Ralph, suddenly aware something more was going on here.
‘Dad, this is Mr Harrington, my old art teacher.’
‘Max, it’s Max,’ added Max, looking as if he’d quite like to sink into the ground and disappear.
Dilly’s eyes flitted towards Max’s left hand. Clemmie was right, there was no longer a wedding band. That, combined with the fact that he was apparently painting boats for a living, had her completely confused.
‘Max. Sorry, it’s just habit. Dad, this is the best art teacher in the world. The teacher that shaped me into the artist I am today?—’
‘I don’t think I can take the credit for that,’ interrupted Max.
‘I think you can. You remember, Dad, I used to talk about my fantastic teacher, the one who let me borrow his art books?’
Ralph smiled. ‘You did. What a small world it is.’
‘But what are you doing here?’ Dilly was still clueless as to how he’d ended up here.
‘Painting boats. I’m here for six months.’
Dilly glanced towards the hull of the nearby boat, which had a tin of brown paint and a large paintbrush sitting next to it. ‘That must be monotonous. Sorry, Dad, didn’t mean to offend.’ She knew how condescending that must have sounded. ‘But why?’ she asked again, then realised she was putting Max on the spot and backtracked. ‘I’m sorry, that was an intrusive question and none of my business, I do apologise.’
Max nodded his head. ‘That’s okay. Are you feeling better today?’
Ralph looked surprised. ‘Feeling better? What’s all this?’
‘I fainted,’ admitted Dilly.
‘Just as I walked into her gallery yesterday.’
‘You fainted? You said you’d been feeling ropey. Have you seen the doctor?’ asked Ralph.
Dilly shook her head.
‘Dilly! You must.’
‘It just comes and goes. I probably just need to eat more. With all I have to do, I forget to eat sometimes, but when I faint it reminds me.’
Ralph looked horrified.
‘Dad, I’m joking! I only fainted the once and I promise I’ll take better care of myself.’
‘Please do.’
The phone rang again and Max turned to answer it as Dilly and her father stepped outside.
Dilly leaned towards her father. ‘Why would Max Harrington be painting boats, with his talent? It doesn’t make any sense to me.’
‘You don’t need to make sense of it. What goes on in other people’s lives is their business and not up for speculation. As long as his work is good, I’m happy. Which it is. So I have no complaints.’
‘I’m not speculating, I’m just curious.’
‘It’s still none of our business.’
Dilly raised an eyebrow in question. ‘You know more than you’re letting on.’
‘What I know about my employees is confidential and not open for discussion,’ her dad reminded her, his voice protective.
Dilly narrowed her eyes. ‘Okay, I was just curious, but you should know that you getting all defensive makes me think something bigger is going on.’
When Ralph didn’t add anything else she threw up her arms in a gesture of surrender.
‘Fine, I’ll let you both get on with your work. But before I forget to ask, would you be free to come with me on Monday to look around the lighthouse?’
‘Oh, Dilly, I’m so sorry. I’m away for the week. I’m travelling around the Scottish Highlands to look at a number of boats. Maybe we could contact the seller and arrange a separate viewing?’
‘I don’t think that’s how it works but I can ask.’ She tried to mask it but knew that the disappointment in her voice didn’t go unnoticed.
‘Did you just mention the lighthouse?’ Max asked as he walked out of the office. ‘I’ve booked another boat in,’ he said to Ralph. ‘I know we’re strapped for time but I can do it over the weekend, as I’ve no plans.’
Ralph nodded his appreciation. ‘Thank you and yes, we were just talking about the lighthouse.’
‘I’ve seen it’s up for auction.’
‘I’ve got it into my head that I’m going to win it, live in it and open up a new gallery.’
‘Wow! Wouldn’t that be living the dream.’ Max walked out in front of the boat house and stared out over the sea towards the lighthouse.
‘I wanted my dad to come to the open day with me, but he’s in Scotland.’
‘I can come; when is it? I mean if that’s okay with you, Ralph. I could shut the boat house for an hour or go during lunchtime.’
‘I think that’s a great idea.’ Ralph placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘With all the building maintenance work you’ve done in the last twelve months, you’ll have just the right eye for any major costs or works that might be needed. We would appreciate that, wouldn’t we, Dilly?’
Dilly again was taken back by this little piece of information. Artist to building maintenance worker was not what she had expected for Max’s career trajectory. ‘If it’s okay with you?’
‘Of course! I should be able to give you a fair idea of how much things will cost if it’s in need of repair or modernising,’ continued Max.
‘Thank you,’ she replied, perplexed. She pointed to her easel. ‘I’d best get to work as well. I’ll hopefully catch up with you before Monday.’
Ralph carried Dilly’s easel to the spot she indicated on the sand and she opened up her stool before setting out her paints and the water pot. But she didn’t take her eyes off her dad.
‘I can feel you watching me,’ he said, laughter in his tone.
Dilly looked over her shoulder and saw Max moving around inside the boat house. ‘What has happened in his life? Divorce, I assume?’ she questioned. ‘But surely that wouldn’t mean such a huge career change.’
Ralph remained silent.
‘Dad?’
‘Sometimes people need a break, and a little breathing space. Max has proved himself already and like I said, it’s his work I’m concerned with, not his private life. Now, that’s all I’m prepared to say on the matter, aside from saying that no one who has ever worked here before has ever painted the hull of a boat as well as he has.’ Ralph smiled, placing a hand on his daughter’s shoulder before he turned and walked back toward the boat house.
Dilly’s eyes followed him then moved to where Max was sitting on a stool painting the hull. The concentration on his face turned to a warm smile as he glanced over in her direction. Dilly mirrored his smile, but she was still wondering what exactly had gone on in his life since she saw him last, and why he had ended up here on Puffin Island.