Chapter 14
JONAH
It was her turn to look confused. ‘The turning of the what?’
‘The light. This is the Pine Harbor tradition I was telling you about. Come on.’ I put my arm through the crook of hers and started tugging. ‘You’ll understand once you watch.’
We joined in with the throng of people heading towards the pier.
It took a long time for anyone to go anywhere in this town, thanks to the fact everybody knew everybody else, and every two steps you had to stop to greet someone.
Even if you’d only seen them that morning, it was considered polite to say hello and enquire as to how things were going as if it had been a year since you’d last seen them. It was both painful and a comfort.
Consequently, by the time we made it down the pier to where Celia Hamilton, the town chair, was standing on her little pedestal with a microphone in hand, she’d already started talking.
‘So, give yourselves a pat on the back,’ she was saying. ‘I know it’s not easy to leave the warmth of our houses when it’s as cold as it is, but I feel confident in saying the turnout is even better than last year. When you elected me to the position of town chair—’
‘I didn’t,’ a man not far from us called out. ‘Don’t blame all of us for that.’
Mae pulled a face, clearly amused. ‘That guy is not her biggest fan, I take it.’
‘That delightful old guy is Ray,’ I told her. ‘And he’s definitely not a fan.’
‘What’s he got against her?’
I shook my head. ‘That’s complicated, and too long a history to get into now. I’ll fill you in another time.’
‘This ceremony was outdated,’ Celia continued, as if she hadn’t heard him.
‘And much smaller. We did it more because it was something we had always done. I’m very pleased to say that over the last few years, we have turned this into one of Pine Harbor’s main calendar events.
A night that we all look forward to, residents and visitors.
A night that brings us all together. A symbol that we have survived, together, the worst that winter can throw at us. ’
‘Who’s she?’ Mae whispered.
‘Celia Hamilton. Town chair.’
‘She seems a touch dramatic.’
‘It’s more than a touch, believe me.’
‘This night is about making sure that, no matter how dark it gets, there is always light to lead our people safely home,’ Celia continued.
‘Wow,’ Mae said.
‘Told you.’
‘As most of you will know, the original light was paid for and donated to the town by the young widow of a Pine Harbor fisherman lost at sea. The light, in various forms, has stood in this spot for over a hundred and eighty years now, guiding our men home. In those days, the oil light couldn’t be tended to over the harsh, stormy winters, and would often get knocked off course, so it would be extinguished through the worst of winter.
But once the worst was over, and the light was repaired and maintained, the turning of the light ceremony would take place to tie in with the early fleets that would soon start venturing out onto the water again.
The light would be relit, and turned to aim once more out at the channel.
And although we now have electrical, official navigation lights that run all year, we maintain the traditional turning of the widow’s light as a symbol.
A guide, a sign, that we are always here.
Always watching, and always waiting for our brave fishermen and lobstermen to come home. ’
She paused theatrically, possibly expecting applause, or at least a cheer. Instead, she got Ray.
‘Just get on with it, will you?’ he shouted gruffly. ‘We all know the story. It’s far too cold to stand around listening to you prattle on all night.’
She sighed, gritted her teeth into a smile. ‘Thank you, Ray, for your, as always, helpful contribution.’
‘You’re welcome.’
‘On that note, thank you to everyone who volunteers to help maintain the light and to those who donate towards its upkeep. Now, without further ado, I’d like to invite Jim Kelley up to perform the honor this year.’
‘Who’s Jim Kelley?’ Mae asked, as we watched a man in the crowd head up to the light beside Mae’s pedestal.
‘He’s a bit of a local legend around here. One of the few lobstermen who carry on through the winter. Has a larger boat than most of us, so he can head out to Williams Bank for days at a time. I sometimes crew for him in my off season.’
‘Would you like to say a few words, Jim?’ Celia asked him.
‘No,’ he replied gruffly, and that was that.
He stepped up to the light and unlocked the housing.
It was a small lamp, unassuming. An old-fashioned kind of lantern-looking thing, perched on a concrete pole.
Jim reached inside and fiddled with the light, turning it slightly, aiming it in the direction of the open sea.
Then, without fanfare, he flicked the switch.
The light sprang into action, warm and golden, a beacon in the darkness.
There was a ripple of applause. A few cheers.
I couldn’t count the number of times I’d been at sea in the dark and searched for that light, finding comfort in its presence. Knowing home was just there.
‘That’s it?’ Mae asked quietly.
‘You were expecting more?’
‘I had no idea what to expect,’ she admitted.
‘Yes, that’s it,’ I confirmed. ‘The light will run now until the beginning of next winter.’
‘It feels crazy saying we’re through the worst of this winter when it’s literally snowing right now, and I can see ice on the shore.’
‘This? It’s hardly snow. Melts before it even touches the ground.
But I know what you mean. And as hard as it is to believe, we are through the worst of it.
I mean we will still get the odd storm, guaranteed.
But the winter solstice has been and this gives us something to look forward to.
When the sun sets before five here, the nights are really long. ’
‘I know what that’s like,’ Mae said wistfully. ‘I used to go to work in the dark and come home in the dark. Sometimes I wouldn’t see daylight for days, just the artificial lights inside the hospital. It was depressing, and a huge part of the reason why I decided to move here.’
‘You know we have long, harsh winters here too, right?’
‘I know. I meant that’s why I took this job.
Normal hours. Weekends free. I just couldn’t handle shift work any more.
Like I said, day shifts in winter meant that sometimes I wouldn’t see daylight for weeks.
And when you work night shifts, you sleep all day.
It’s tough. Physically, over time. And mentally.
You can’t have a normal life when you’re working off hours. Or a normal relationship.’
‘But you could have just taken a job in the city with normal hours, couldn’t you?’
‘I could,’ I conceded.
‘So why here?’
‘There were just too many reminders in the city.’
‘Of your ex?’
She pulled a face. ‘He was a doctor at the hospital so yeah, there were reminders of him everywhere. And that was hard at first. He was the hospital golden boy. Everyone assumed we’d get married one day. Not that we ever discussed it. I guess I started to buy into the hype.’
‘What happened?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t know if he never really loved me, or if he fell out of love, but whatever it was, he just told me one day he was leaving and that was it.
But not just me. He left the hospital too.
My best friend, Holly, thinks he had some kind of early midlife crisis, but it wasn’t as simple as that.
I know he’d always felt a lot of pressure to do well.
From his parents, then teachers, professors, employers.
He was an incredible doctor. I hope he goes back to it because it would be a huge loss if he didn’t. ’
‘He quit?’
‘Took a sabbatical. Last I heard he was travelling around Asia.’
‘Right. So you left the hospital to get away from memories of him?’
‘And also, of the people we lost. I lost. Every face I would pass in the street, or at the supermarket, I would wonder if they were the son, daughter, mother, father, sister, brother cousin or best friend of someone who’d died in front of me.
’ She took a deep breath. ‘The night I saw this job advertised, we’d lost a young guy earlier that day.
He was only fourteen. Stabbed at a party.
It was completely senseless and tragic, and I’ll never forget the anguish on his parents’ faces when they were brought in to see him.
I felt so helpless, and that was new for me.
Normally I managed not to let it affect me, but that night, I just felt like, what was the point? ’
I let out a low whistle. I knew of course that she’d been an ER nurse and abstractly figured that meant she’d seen some horrible things, but hearing it really brought it home. ‘I can’t even imagine what that must have been like.’
‘It’s hard to explain. I don’t blame myself for their deaths.
I know in my heart that I did everything that I could have done for them, and I’m glad and honored that I could be there when they needed someone the most. I have no regrets about my job, I just couldn’t do it any more.
I still want to help people, but in a way that I can live with.
The last few years have been rough, for everyone on the planet.
Even now, things are so uncertain. I try not to watch the news because it’s usually all doom and gloom, but you hear things on the radio of course, and see things in your social media feeds.
I just wanted to go somewhere and do something that felt…
normal again. I wanted to have time to do things like this.
’ She held her hands up. ‘I mean look at this place. All these people who make up a community. The lights, the smells, the sounds. It’s even more magical than I thought it could be. ’
I smiled down at her, loving the look of pure joy on her face as she took in the market. It was easy to forget that not everyone lived like this. ‘I’m sorry for the reasons that brought you here, but I’m really glad you came.’
She smiled back at me. ‘Me too.’