The Bad Luck Lighthouse

by Nicki Thornton

  ‘The boathouse,’ replied Rendleton. ‘Like most things here before Mina took charge, a bit of a wreck. Only an old rowing boat there now. Not one anyone would use in anything except a dire emergency.’

  Over the sound of the sea, the waves and the birds, they could begin to hear the hum of a motor and could just make out an old wooden boat approaching, large enough to be carrying four buffeted figures, but looking like it was probably more often used for fishing. The waves looked pleased to have something to play with.

  Four figures?

  Seth felt his insides shiver as he remembered he was here entirely uninvited and only pretending to be the replacement kitchen boy. What if the real boy was arriving on that boat and he would be revealed as an imposter?

  He shielded his eyes against the sunlight again, watching the rolling waves reach the shore, where they crashed on to the shingle before retreating with a sizzle. He could taste the raw salt of the sea on his lips as he shifted his gaze to the boat, now rounding the rocky point and into the cove. Its prow was lifting clear of the water, then thumping down into the foam.

  At the wheel of the boat was a girl enveloped in a vast orange waterproof jacket, her short blonde hair tormented by the wind as she steered towards them.

  Of the figure huddled at the back of the boat, Seth could make out little, as she had an oilskin hat pulled well down over her ears and her jacket collar was turned up. The heaviness in the way she sat told Seth she was not enjoying the journey one bit.

  One figure wasn’t huddled down – a boy who looked like he was enjoying every moment of the gusty, stomach-flipping journey, his long brown hair tossed about by the wind. He had such a wide and confident smile that Seth could practically see his perfect teeth flashing from the beach.

  Of the fourth figure he could see nothing but a dark coat and a face concealed by a hood.

  It was only as the boat swerved suddenly and expertly to finally swoop past some rocks that Seth could see the hood was lined in a bright crimson, like something out of a fairy tale. Seth caught only a brief glimpse of her profile, but he would know that long imperious nose anywhere. The very last person he’d been expecting to see here: Angelique Squerr.

  His heart rose. They’d shared such an adventure.

  Then he felt a knot growing in his stomach. Pewter had said she’d teamed up with some other young S3 agent making a name for himself, someone called Stormforce. So what was she doing here? Another cleaning job? Did that mean there was left-over magic at Snakesmouth Lighthouse after all? Seth felt his suspicions that Pewter was concealing much from him rise again.

  And what would Angelique say when she found Seth here?

  The boat slowed and carefully edged towards a short wooden jetty on the opposite side of the cove to the boathouse, making several futile attempts to approach the jetty, which didn’t reach out very far. Each time the waves played with the boat, tossing it back again like it was a stick, rather than full of people.

  Seth could only watch helplessly.

  Rendleton quickly sized up that the boat was in trouble and without hesitating, he sprinted to the water’s edge. The boy in the boat – who Seth could now see was wearing a dark-brown leather jacket – grabbed the rope from the pilot and started to twirl it above his head like a lasso. Pewter watched, his hands shoved even deeper in his pockets. Surely there was no way to get the rope to travel far enough so they could catch it.

  Rendleton was up to his waist in water, swimming towards the erratically bobbing boat and Alfie plunged in right behind him. But the boat was still a way off. It all depended on Rendleton. Could he reach the end of that rope?

  Then the young man with the confident smile released the rope and it shot out in a straight line and just kept on going, like it had been fired from a bow. Seth watched, expecting it to ditch into the sea at any moment, but it carried on, straight into the strong waiting hands of Rendleton, who caught it deftly and swam to the jetty. Seth finally snapped into action and soon Pewter was there with Alfie too. Between them they began a tug of war with the sea, bringing the little boat closer and closer until Rendleton was able to secure it tightly.

  The girl in the orange oilskin leapt out first, checking Rendleton’s knot and finding it to her satisfaction. She beamed at Seth from beneath a thatch of blonde hair, as if she’d relished the challenge of bringing her passengers in safely.

  ‘Hi, I’m Jo Crow.’

  Seth mumbled his own name, keeping his head down, aware that Angelique was now stepping off the boat, leaning on the red cane she was never without as the boat rocked dangerously.

  He chanced a glance up and saw that Angelique was looking straight at him. Was she amazed to find him here? Annoyed? Would she give him away?

  He gave a nervous nod, hoping he might at least see recognition and pleasure appear in her eyes. But she turned to Rendleton, held out her hand and said: ‘Very pleased to be here, I’m your new cook.’

  18. Bringing Up My Breakfast

  Seth was confused for a moment, but then he remembered that Angelique was a secret agent – she always worked undercover. And if she was working, that could only mean one thing: S3 must be investigating if there was still leftover magic here. The boy in the brown leather jacket stepped off confidently on long, agile limbs. He reached for Rendleton’s hand and shook it.

  ‘Great to be here! Dexter Stormforce. Call me Dex.’ The boy shook Alfie’s hand next and flashed his perfect teeth at Seth and Pewter. ‘Can’t get enough of this fresh weather after that storm I heard you had here last night. Incredible. Mind you, thought I’d be bringing up my breakfast in that boat for a minute.’

  Stormforce? So this was the agent Angelique had been working with on her big cases.

  Stormforce was wearing skinny black jeans. He had annoyingly high cheekbones, and wavy brown hair just long enough to tumble roguishly in the wind. His intelligent, green-flecked eyes were taking everything in with cheerful curiosity.

  ‘Hope I’ll be the answer to all your troubles. Well, some of them.’ This was met with silence, except for the howling of the wind. ‘I’m the new builder!’ added Dex unconvincingly, brushing a little stray seaweed from the arm of his expensive jacket.

  ‘When the builders are even younger than me I start to worry,’ said Rendleton, his eyes widening in surprise. ‘Shame you didn’t think to bring a friend to lend a hand, son.’

  Stormforce flinched a little at the ‘son’. ‘Well, I’m here more by way of an assessment of what needs to be done –’ he waved generally at the island, taking in everything from the boat to the cliffs – ‘unless you feel you don’t need me . . .’

  ‘Didn’t say that, mate. I’ll give anyone a chance. And I won’t say there isn’t a bit to do. A few days ago we were on schedule to open in two weeks, but then work stopped and we suffered a direct lightning hit last night as well as a tragedy. Now you’re here, I guess everything will be back on track in no time.’

  ‘When’s breakfast?’ asked Jo, trying to lift spirits as she helped the final shape huddled right at the back of the boat to disembark. A dark woman with neatly tied grey hair started to unfurl herself.

  ‘Welcome, Dr Malinger,’ said Pewter, as the woman waddled unsteadily down the jetty.

  ‘If I’m lucky, I can be away from this place before breakfast,’ she announced clearly over her shoulder.

  Everyone fell in behind her and set off towards the lighthouse, Pewter and Seth bringing up the rear.

  ‘I am slightly disappointed they sent us Stormforce,’ muttered Pewter, as much to himself as to Seth.

  ‘I can see what you mean,’ Seth replied. ‘Why didn’t you warn me Angelique was coming?’

  ‘That would be because I had no idea she was coming. Thought they would send Copious Bladderwrack.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The agent who cleaned this place.’

  ‘But you said you weren’t calling them in, that the job was already done.’

  ‘Ah yes, but as you so
rightly pointed out during our chat yesterday, with sinister magic, it always pays to be sure.’

  When they got back to the lighthouse, Seth guessed that Brockler and Lark were still sleeping – and Celeste too – as it was all quiet when they walked into the entrance hall. He had listened at the maid’s door first thing that morning, guessing that, like him, she would be an early riser out of habit, but all he’d heard was loud snoring.

  Dr Malinger was clearly keen to get right on with what she had come here to do. She grabbed the heavy bag that Jo had carried for her from the beach and plunged straight down the cellar steps. Seth tried not to think of the grim remains of Mina Mintencress lying below, but felt himself shudder.

  He made to follow the doctor but Pewter put out his hand to stop him. ‘Don’t think we need you for this, young Seth. Besides, the new cook will be wanting to inspect her kitchen, and I’m sure everyone will soon be ready for a cup of tea. And a biscuit, if you had such a thing.’

  Seth didn’t have the chance to show the new ‘cook’ around, or exchange more than a brief nod with her, as Pewter and Dr Malinger quickly reappeared.

  A disgruntled frown had settled in the soft folds of the doctor’s face. ‘How am I supposed to conduct any sort of medical examination in these conditions?’ she was saying to Pewter. ‘There’s hardly enough light to get down the steps without breaking my darned neck. If this is the best we can do I shall have to arrange for the body to be removed to a hospital and you won’t get even a rudimentary analysis today.’

  Everyone turned to Rendleton. If you wanted to get anything done around here, he was your man.

  Rendleton rubbed his square chin thoughtfully. ‘Builders had some monster lights, so they could carry on work into the evening. They left in such a tearing hurry, it’s got to be worth a shot to see if they’re still there. They’re heavy brutes, so I’ll need a hand. And they’ll be over in the Sunrise Wing.’

  Seth’s gaze slid towards the door to that wing, as firmly closed as ever.

  Jo looked up from where she was busy with a tin of biscuits. ‘Sunrise Wing? That what you’re now calling the derelict old hovel built into the rock? Yeah, yeah, count me in,’ she said cheerfully, through a mouthful of crumbs, putting the lid back on the tin reluctantly. ‘Builders didn’t just leave in a hurry, they scarpered, cos the place terrified them. Who’s up for seeing this ghost then? I’m up for it.’

  Dex’s confident grin grew even wider. ‘We’re ghost-hunting? Awesome,’ he said excitedly, before moderating his tone to add, ‘And, you know, I should see what supplies are available to me, should I take this project on.’

  Seth immediately volunteered too, but Angelique didn’t follow suit.

  Since more or less the moment he’d arrived Seth had heard stories about the wing that everyone avoided. It had spooked a bunch of tough builders so much they had downed tools and fled in such a hurry they’d even left their equipment behind. Now he’d get his first chance to have a proper look at what was behind that closed door.

  19. What Did the Builders See?

  Did Seth imagine it, or did even Rendleton, who seemed fearless enough to tackle anything, pause slightly before unlocking the door?

  The four of them stepped through into a long corridor painted a stark white with terracotta tiles on the floor, although not much light filtered in and there was a general feeling of cool gloom and darkness.

  Rendleton fumbled along the wall and flicked a light switch, but nothing happened. He clicked it a couple more times and swore lightly under his breath.

  ‘We’ve come in here to fetch lights but we need more lights to get the lights,’ said Dex with a wry chuckle. ‘Let me try.’

  Seth felt a rush of air as Dex moved, and saw a crackle of blue light. This time, when Dex flicked the switch, the lights came on.

  Dex surely had just used magic to fix the lights. It had been effortless. Seth fought a stab of jealousy.

  ‘Great, mate,’ said Rendleton, stepping through into the corridor. ‘Guess you’re not as useless as you look,’ he joked.

  ‘Well, I hadn’t got you figured as someone who’d go completely pale at the first mention of the word ghost,’ responded Dex with a grin in his voice.

  ‘This is a bit different to all that fancy stuff up in the lighthouse,’ commented Jo through a mouthful of biscuit she’d managed to smuggle from the kitchen. ‘Entrance lobby is full of all that gold shimmery stuff.’

  Dex strode forward eagerly, rubbing one hand along the smoothness of plain walls. ‘Someone have the jitters it was all costing a bit much?’

  ‘Going for a more reflective look here, I think Lark said,’ muttered Rendleton, throwing open the first door and hesitating a second before stepping through.

  ‘I think I’d reflect that I could do with a nice log fire and a couple of cushions,’ suggested Dex. ‘This place in winter might be a bit stark.’

  Seth had to agree. He could feel cold creeping in, as if someone was touching the back of his neck with ice-cold fingers. His ears pricked up as he heard the faintest of scratching, scuttling sounds, but no one else reacted. He was probably just imagining things.

  The couple of rooms they looked into were bare brickwork with exposed pipes and rubble on the floor.

  ‘Thought you were opening soon,’ said Jo, pushing back her mop of blond hair and pausing to examine what looked like a brand-new drill abandoned on the floor.

  What was it that the builders had seen that had made them leave in such a hurry?

  ‘The top rooms are getting there,’ said Rendleton. ‘Just need to knock a wall down here and there, pipework, finish the plumbing for the bathrooms. Plastering. Then it’s just a sweep through. Bit of paint, carpets and furniture, and we’re in business.’

  ‘Just a sweep through,’ echoed Dex, poking a toe at a pile of cement still with a spade stuck in it that was blocking the entrance to one of the bedrooms. ‘These builders sure did leave in a hurry. You seen anything of what exactly upset them?’

  Rendleton shot him a quick look. ‘You’ll find it best to ignore stories. I’ve been down here loads of times and nothing’s ever bothered me. Let’s get on and find those lights.’

  ‘Talking of stories,’ began Jo, as they all crept along the corridor. ‘I could tell you all sorts about this place. Did you hear there was a sign things were going to change, just about the time the Mintencresses moved in?’

  ‘A sign?’ repeated Seth, curiosity piqued. ‘What sort of sign?’

  ‘Aye. Right in the same place where the rift is. That’s where we lost the coastal path. Did you hear about that? But anyways, one night not long ago there was this bright light. It was like one of them stars actually dropped out of the sky, right where we lost our bit of coast a few years back. Or thereabouts. A portent, some called it.’

  They had all started to creep even more slowly as she’d begun her story. Now, once again, Seth thought he heard a soft, scuttling sound from above. This time, all their heads snapped upwards towards the ceiling.

  ‘Course, others said as how that bright light was Soul Snakesmouth returning. Or his ghost, I mean.’

  They all stopped, still looking upwards.

  ‘Sounds more like mice than something that goes bump in the night,’ said Rendleton cheerfully.

  He thrust open the last-but-one door at the end of the corridor. They all stepped carefully, as there was not just dust, but mess everywhere. This room was in a much worse state than the rest, littered with abandoned builders’ equipment, including trowels, a spirit level, a single glove and an open bag of cement that had started to spill on to the concrete floor.

  ‘Reckon the lights must be in the next room,’ said Rendleton. He headed in there and gave a cry of triumph.

  Jo lingered, clutching a large abandoned spanner and the spirit level, shoving her finds in a deep pocket of her voluminous coat. Seth was pretty sure she’d swiped that drill too. She gave Seth a cheeky grin when she realized she’d been observed. ‘Sham
e to waste them.’

  ‘I think I should have a quick squint upstairs,’ said Dex, his green eyes lighting up as he headed for the stairs.

  ‘Not now you don’t, son,’ said Rendleton, grabbing him by the shoulder.

  Seth could see Dex’s jaw clench again at the word son.

  ‘If mice have got into the upper floor already, then there’ll be plenty to worry your head about. But for now, we don’t want to keep the doctor hanging around. Here we go.’ He handed the heaviest end of the first of two big lamps to Dex, who grunted as he shouldered the weight.

  ‘If there’s damage from the storm, something’s bound to have got in. Maybe even birds,’ said Jo, taking the lamp by the legs at the other end.

  Rendleton groaned.

  This time there was no mistaking the soft but insistent scratching noise from the floor above them. They all stood there, just for a moment, listening.

  ‘OK, set?’ said Rendleton loudly, and they made their way much more slowly back along the corridor, struggling with the heavy, awkward lights.

  Seth couldn’t help but take a few quick glances back over his shoulder, listening for the sounds

  ‘How did you end up doing odd jobs in a remote lighthouse?’ Dex asked Rendleton.

  ‘“Odd jobs”? I’m the sort-of manager, mate.’

  ‘Yes. It’s the “sort-of ” bit that’s interesting. I bet there’s a story behind it,’ went on Dex.

  Seth’s arms were not just beginning to ache, but felt like they were being stretched from their sockets. Even though he was concentrating on not dropping his end of the lamp, he kept his ears open. What was Rendleton’s story?

  ‘You’re the only member of staff who hasn’t run off terrified of the ghosts. That’s interesting too,’ Dex repeated.

  ‘I was at a loose end. Met Lark at a party and she suggested I tag along,’ he answered easily. ‘Think she knew they could do with the help. I needed the work. If it’s any of your business.’

  ‘There I was imagining all sorts. I thought you were going to say something thrilling, like this is a great sort of a place to hide out,’ said Dex jovially. ‘I mean, it’s exactly the sort of job I’d look for if I were on the run, say. You sound like you’ve come here from pretty far off. Australia, is it, from that accent? What better place to come if you didn’t want to be found in a hurry? If I happened to be a wanted criminal, this would be the perfect spot to hide out – remote, anonymous . . .’