Chapter 4
Chapter Four
D illy looked out over Blue Water Bay as the glorious afternoon came to an end. The sky was painted in shades of orange, casting a warm golden glow over the water. Paddleboarders glided gracefully over the calm, glassy surface. Children with fishing nets splashed near the shallow water of the shoreline and seagulls circulated overhead. The gentle breeze carried the scent of the saltwater and the sound of the puffins’ mooing could be heard from the nearby cliffs.
Dilly tossed down her paintbrush in frustration. She’d been painting for three hours solid, but the painting just wasn’t working. She’d been too distracted wondering why and how Max had ended up working at the boat house, knowing his salary would be nowhere near that of a teacher. He was intelligent, capable, and it baffled her that he would settle for such a modest job. Her curiosity was heightened by her dad’s peculiar reaction when she had asked him. The fact that Ralph, usually an open book, had become uncharacteristically tight-lipped had only made it more intriguing.
Tilting her face up to the sun, she exhaled deeply and closed her eyes, savouring the gentle warmth on her skin. She ran her fingers through her hair, gathering it all together. With a practised motion, she twisted the strands into a messy bun, the loose ends framing her face. She reached for a clean paintbrush that was lying in her bag and secured the bun with the makeshift hairpin.
‘Hard at it, I see.’
Dilly jumped to find Max beaming down at her.
‘I wish! I’ve been painting for hours but my creativity just isn’t flowing today.’
‘Any particular reason why?’
‘It’s just one of those days,’ she replied.
‘And what’s the title of this painting?’
‘“One Moment in Time”.’
Max studied the painting intently. It was whimsical, capturing a vivid scene with high cliffs rising majestically on both sides as the lighthouse stood proudly in the centre, guarding the rocks below. In the foreground a couple sat on the sand, sharing an ice-cream, their black Labrador paddling at the water’s edge. The painting radiated a sense of carefree joy. ‘And you say that’s creativity not flowing? It looks amazing to me. Fairytale art at its best.’
Dilly noticed him screw up his face a little.
‘I know that look! You always screwed up your face like that when you thought something could be better.’
‘No, I didn’t.’
‘Oh yes, you did. Come on, what would you do differently?’
‘This is your painting.’
Dilly held out the brush towards him. ‘Do what you used to do.’
‘I was your teacher then but not anymore. These days I’m sure it’s you who could teach me a thing or two and I don’t want to ruin the work of a world-famous artist.’
‘Come on, your opinion matters to me.’
For a moment, Max hesitated, until Dilly moved off the stool and perched on the nearby rock. She gestured towards the painting. ‘For me it’s just missing a special something,’ she said.
Dilly watched as he dipped the paintbrush in the water, his gaze shifting from the lighthouse to the sky. With a steady hand, he swept the brush over the palette, dousing it in vibrant orange. He then applied gentle strokes to the canvas, capturing the essence of a breath-taking sunset with hues of burnt orange.
‘Wow! That looks stunning,’ said Dilly admiringly.
Max looked up towards her. ‘A sunset sky always evokes a sense of romance.’ He handed her back the brush then stood up.
‘It’s like the old days. You’d always rescue my artwork.’
‘Your artwork never needed rescuing. In fact, sometimes I thought you should be the one teaching.’
‘That’s very kind of you to say, but look how you’ve transformed this painting.’ Dilly wanted to ask so many questions. She was still very curious about what had brought him to Puffin Island. ‘If you’re working for my dad, are you staying locally?’
‘I am. I’m currently staying at Smuggler’s Rest, but tomorrow I’m moving up there.’ Max pointed to the top of the boat house. ‘I’m renting it from your dad for the time I’m here.’
‘That’ll be handy for work. When I win the auction, we can wave across the harbour to each other.’
Max smiled. ‘What was it they used in the past to communicate with the lighthouse keeper from the land?’ He exhaled deeply as he tried to remember.
‘The semaphore flags. Betty used them to try and alert my grandfather when my grandmother was in labour.’
‘I suppose there were no other forms of communication back then. Could you imagine reading that message?’
‘He didn’t see the flags, due to the storm, so you’ll never guess what my granny did. Picture the scene: a storm, a choppy sea and freezing conditions. Not ideal for what came next, which was my granny enlisting her best friend, Betty, and Betty’s husband, who was a fisherman, to row them across to the lighthouse during her labour as she didn’t want to give birth without my grandfather being there.’
‘That’s what I’d call brave.’
‘Me too. Unfortunately, tragedy struck just as they arrived.’
‘How?’
‘The storm got worse and a boat crashed into the rocks.’
‘Not their rowing boat?’
‘No, they managed to arrive safety at the lighthouse and soon after my grandmother gave birth, with Betty by her side. But my grandfather missed it because he was helping to rescue the passengers whose boat had smashed against the rocks. Sadly, he didn’t make it. He got swept out to sea and he never got to meet his daughter, my mum.’
‘I can’t even begin to…’ Max stopped in his tracks. ‘That’s so sad.’
‘It was. To make things worse, my granny was forced to move out of the cottage that came with my grandfather’s lightkeeper job, and so she had to move in with Betty. Having lost her husband and her home in quick succession, it took her a while to rebuild her life, but she did it.’
‘Your family is made of strong women. I have to admit, I did see the news about your mum’s tragic accident. I’m really sorry for your loss.’
‘Thank you.’ She looked out towards the sea. ‘Some days are more difficult than others, but on the bad days I tend to throw myself into painting a little bit more, so I guess there’s a silver lining.’
‘I’m the opposite. I’ve always found that on my bad days I can’t paint. And recently, there’s been more bad days than good.’
Dilly immediately noticed his mood slump. ‘I’m sorry to hear that. Is there anything you want to talk about?’
Max shook his head. ‘This place is my breather whilst I work out what to do next.’ He paused. ‘I’m really glad I saw the advert for the job at the boat house. Your dad is a very supportive man and I’m grateful he’s given me this chance.’
There was a certain sadness about Max and Dilly found she wanted to lift his spirits back to where they had been only moments earlier when he’d had a paintbrush in his hand. Max didn’t want to talk, and she didn’t want to push him, but maybe in time he would confide in her.
She wondered if it had to do with his marriage breakdown. She remembered how her own life had shattered when she’d discovered that Giles was a complete fraud. At first, she couldn’t talk to anyone about it, feeling she’d been fooled by his charm and good looks. Dilly had thought their chance encounter was like something out of a movie, with genuine love blossoming between them. She believed that when you knew, you knew, and there was no reason to take things slow if you were utterly in love. However, once she discovered what Giles really was, a romance scammer who nearly took her inheritance, she had to muster all her strength to keep it together.
She questioned everything he had ever said, the way he’d looked at her, and all the times he’d claimed to love her. It was devastating to realise everything had been a lie. Dilly couldn’t fathom how anyone could play such a convincing game without genuine feelings, but he had. Despite a part of her wanting to believe he had some fondness for her, she knew it wasn’t true – that’s how scammers operated – and her heart was shattered into smithereens. She was merely collateral damage in his quest for money, and the only thing he hadn’t anticipated was being found out. Feeling foolish, she was glad she had played down their romance to her friends and family in the last few months before his scam was revealed. She was just thankful her dad never said the words, ‘I told you so.’
‘Are you hungry?’ she asked.
‘I am.’
‘Good, because I’m suddenly famished,’ she exclaimed, her stomach rumbling loudly, prompting shared laughter. ‘I’m craving a towering stack of fluffy pancakes smothered in Nutella. How does that sound to you?’
‘I’m game if you are,’ he replied with a twinkle in his eye. Her stomach fluttered with a sensation completely unrelated to hunger. Shaking herself slightly, she reaffirmed to herself that the next six months were solely about her. After Giles, she had no intention of entering into any relationship, her focus instead on expanding her business and, hopefully, winning the lighthouse.
‘Then I know just the place.’ She grabbed her bag. ‘This way.’
‘Dill, you can’t leave all your equipment here. It’ll be stolen and sold on the web before you could blink.’
Dilly felt an instant warmth spread through her chest. He was the only person who had ever shortened her nickname. She had been Delilah to her mum her entire life, and her dad and closest friends called her Dilly, a nickname she also embraced professionally. But hearing him call her Dill brought back memories of the past, of after-class chats about art, visits to the local galleries, the books he had shared with her, and the closeness they had felt sitting next to each other, painting.
She grinned. ‘This is Puffin Island. The last crime committed here was when Clemmie, Amelia, and I were around ten years old, sneaking extra pick’n’mix into our paper bag without paying. I still feel a twinge of guilt about it. Trust me, this will be fine.’
They strolled across the sandy shore, their feet sinking into the soft surface as they navigated through parasols and the last of the sunbathers soaking up the sunshine. Blue Water Bay buzzed with tourists, and as they walked towards the Cosy Kettle they caught whiffs of coffee and the lively chatter of nearby children engrossed in building the grandest sandcastle on the beach.
‘That coffee smells so strong.’ Dilly wriggled her nose.
‘Do you fancy one?’ asked Max.
She shook her head. ‘It’s strange. Until recently, I was a huge coffee drinker, and all of a sudden, I don’t want anything to do with it. In fact, right now I’m really craving a milkshake. They make the best ones here.’
‘And your favourite milkshake?’
Dilly scanned the chalkboard outside the Cosy Kettle. ‘I’m torn between going double chocolate with my pancakes and shake, or opting for strawberry… but then the vanilla one is calling my name, too,’ she mused aloud.
Max laughed. ‘You’re going to be sick.’
‘I’m actually feeling okay this afternoon so I’m going to take full advantage. What do you fancy?’
‘I think I’ll go for pancakes with ice-cream and strawberries, along with a latte.’
They approached the counter where Becca greeted them with a wide smile. Becca, with her sun-kissed complexion dotted with freckles and a long blonde braid cascading down her back, was a familiar face on Puffin Island. She had set up her small beachside hut, which she named the Cosy Kettle, around three years ago, offering hot drinks during the late nights and early mornings. The hut quickly became a beloved spot for island workers, especially those who had to cross the causeway at odd hours when nothing else was open.
‘Hey Dilly, how are you?’ she asked cheerfully.
‘I’m good, thanks. Looks like you’ve had a busy day,’ Dilly observed, glancing at the multitude of people still spread out on the sand.
‘Run off my feet, but no complaints here. Unfortunately, all the ice-creams are gone,’ Becca replied apologetically.
‘Pancakes, then?’ Dilly inquired hopefully.
‘Always got pancakes,’ Becca assured them.
After taking their orders, Becca turned to the stove behind her and began preparing their pancakes, leaving Dilly and Max to find a table. He pulled out a chair for her.
‘Thank you,’ she said appreciatively.
They settled into their seats, gazing out across the bay with the lighthouse standing prominently ahead.
‘How would anyone know its true value unless they work in property?’ Dilly asked, her eyes fixed on the lighthouse.
‘We’ll have a better idea on Monday,’ Max replied.
Dilly glanced at him. ‘I like the way you said we.’
‘You’ll certainly be the envy of everyone here if you’re able to buy it. It’s such a beautiful spot, and I’d be happy to help restore it to its former glory at a reasonable cost, unlike some contractors. If it needs it.’
‘I couldn’t ask you to do that after a long day at the boat house. The last thing you need is more manual labour,’ Dilly protested.
‘Believe me, it would be a welcome distraction,’ Max insisted. ‘I’ve got nothing else pressing, other than thinking about what comes next, and I’d be happy to put that off a bit longer.’
‘Do you need to move on?’ Dilly asked, gesturing towards the bay. ‘I’m not sure I could ever give this up.’
‘This is just a temporary escape. I needed something different, away from the usual, just for a while,’ Max explained.
Seizing the moment, Dilly inquired, ‘What happened? You were a fantastic teacher and you’re still a brilliant artist, I could see that from today.’
‘It’s a series of events that shaped my path,’ Max replied. He paused briefly. ‘Sometimes life takes unexpected turns. Change is never easy, even when you know it’s for the best.’
Dilly understood that sentiment all too well. Her recent personal turmoil with Giles had left her shattered, and hesitant to trust again. ‘I hear you,’ she said softly.
‘But for now, Puffin Island is my sanctuary,’ Max continued, looking up just as Becca placed a generous stack of pancakes and their drinks in front of them.
Dilly thanked Becca warmly, though her mind raced with curiosity about why Max needed a safe place.
‘I’m looking forward to helping you out with the lighthouse,’ Max said, picking up his knife and fork.
‘I have to win the auction first,’ Dilly replied, smiling.
‘Your dad seems confident you’ll do it. It’s great he’s so supportive.’
‘He is. Generally, as long as I don’t risk bankrupting myself, he’ll support my decisions. I can’t wait to see inside and explore where my mum was born. Hopefully any work needed is just cosmetic. I’m pretty handy with DIY and painting walls is easy,’ she added.
‘It’s all so exciting. I have every faith you’ll get the lighthouse,’ Max encouraged.
‘You make it sound simple. What are you doing tomorrow night?’
‘I’ll have to check my diary… Oh, absolutely nothing,’ he replied with a smile. ‘Why, what are you thinking? More pancakes?’
She laughed. ‘I’m planning to put together a financial plan and figure out my highest bid. I could cook you dinner, if you’d like to help?’
‘That sounds lovely. What time?’ Max asked.
‘Seven o’clock?’
‘Should I bring a bottle?’
‘Perfect. I really want this. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity,’ Dilly admitted.
‘Dinner with me, or buying the lighthouse?’ Max teased, a glint in his eye.
Dilly smiled as she cut into her pancake. ‘I’m not saying.’ She glanced playfully at him across the table.