Little Wishes

by Michelle Adams

  He reached into the envelope and pulled the letter out. He began to read as the smell of frying fish permeated the room.

  Dear Elizabeth,

  Sometimes when I think of my location on this earth I feel as if I am a million miles and a thousand hours from the safety of home. Wolf Rock is a precarious place, Elizabeth, and it is true what Mr. Pommeroy told me before I left, that one false foot could render me a thing of the past. I think I saw you on the headland as we set sail, and that lasting view of you I keep with me all the time.

  The waves roar beneath us like a jungle cat here. But this lighthouse was built strong, and I am being trained well by experienced company. The other keepers have made me welcome and have shown me the ropes. I already know how to light the lamp and change the vapor tubes, and I am pretty good at cleaning the windows, or so they tell me. The waves are getting increasingly rough, and I am concerned that the supply boat will be delayed. However, Keeper Robertson has been teaching me to cook, so at least upon my return I will be of some use to you. Time is passing quicker than I might have expected, but I admit not fast enough.

  If you have made it this far into the letter, I can only assume that you wish to know what it is I have to say, despite what happened. So, on that note, I will stop coursing around the issue like the ships in the distance navigate around this volcanic outcrop of land, and ask that you forgive me. Please, please forgive me, Elizabeth. I beg you to try to understand why I left. I am truly sorry for what happened, and that I am not there to support you when you need me. I lie awake at night listening to the gentle vibrations of the revolving lamp and all I can think about is you telling me that you still imagine a future together. I was such a fool, although, I also hope you can see, an honorable one. I had to think of my family, and us. I had to do what I could to protect us. I speak the truth, Elizabeth, only that. And as it is the truth that led us here, I feel I must rely on it now. There are things I wish I had said in person while I had the chance, but sometimes the most important things are the hardest to express.

  Elizabeth, I never told you this when we were together, but I have loved you for a long time. I would watch you painting, sitting alone and lost in your work, and imagine that we were together. And on that day you came to me and you agreed to go with me to the old Mayon Lookout, I felt as if I was the luckiest bloke in the world. But it was sadness that brought you to me on that day. And it was that sadness that prevented me from telling you the truth. I have tried hard to keep what I know inside. But I must tell you the truth if you are to understand what happened to your mother.

  Sweetheart, she didn’t slip on the night I pulled her from the water. It was no accident that I rectified, but a decisive act that I sought to reverse. She jumped. I called to her to stop, and I know she heard me, but she jumped in anyway. I dived in after her, and she fought my efforts, telling me to let her go. You see, she didn’t want to be saved, Elizabeth, and instead I believe was trying to save you from the hurt of her illness.

  This is how I know my father is telling the truth. He saw your mother enter the boat with your father on the day she drowned, and once again I think it was what she wanted. Your father helped her fulfill her wishes, Elizabeth. I don’t know what happened thereafter, and I will not make assumptions that might hurt you. I tell you only what I know.

  I’m sorry to tell you this. I never wanted to.

  Forgive me.

  Your ever-loving,

  Tom

  Now

  “Did I wake you?” Elizabeth asked. The early afternoon sun was low. Alice had returned to Hastings after all, much to their disappointment. Tom shook his head.

  “No. My bottom’s sore, that’s all,” he said, trying to turn. “I want to go for a walk.”

  “You can’t go on your own,” she said. He had taken a tumble yesterday, bumped his head, despite the fact the medication seemed to have helped with his memory and coordination. “You’ll be in trouble with the ward manager.”

  “I wouldn’t mind being in trouble with the ward manager.” How he had the strength for a smutty joke she didn’t know. His speech was still slurred, and it was getting harder to understand him. But the tone of his voice was playful enough, and she couldn’t help but enjoy the moment of perfect mental clarity. It didn’t happen often anymore.

  “Like you were in trouble with Francine Matherson?” she teased. At first, he had no idea whom she was talking about, but then slowly, like the dawn mists rising, understanding came. “Oh yes,” she said, lingering over the word when she noticed him smile at the memory. “Don’t think I didn’t know all about that.”

  He laughed to himself, slipped a hand from under the sheets, and rested it on hers. It looked like such an effort.

  “I got in more trouble with you, though, didn’t I?” he said.

  His fingers were cold as she kissed them, his nails a bit too long, and she vowed to clip them later. “Yes, love. I suppose you did.” His wriggling persisted, and it was hard to watch as he tried without success to get comfortable. “Do you want to go up to the dayroom for a while?”

  “I’d rather leave the hospital for a bit. What if you helped me get dressed? We could go out somewhere.”

  “I don’t think you’re allowed.” He rolled his eyes; he always was the braver one. “Okay,” she said, testing her defiance. “Where did you want to go?”

  “Really? Well, there’s something on that wish list I want us to do.” After Elizabeth relented, he dressed with her help, and once she managed to find a wheelchair, they were set to make their escape. “Let’s go,” he whispered once the coast was clear. “But make sure you bring your purse. We’re going to need a taxi.”

  * * *

  The wheels almost betrayed them as she pushed him out of the ward as fast as she could. But despite the whistling of a rusted bearing they made it out undetected. It didn’t take them long to find a taxi from the rank outside the hospital, and soon enough they were on their way. Elizabeth kept thinking about what the nurses would do when they found his room empty, and the guilt was insurmountable, but Tom’s eyes were fixed on the road ahead.

  “I hope you’re happy with yourself,” Elizabeth said, her heart still pounding.

  A smile had been etched on his face since the moment they exited the ward. “What are you worried about? It’s not like you broke me out of Belmarsh.”

  “No, but they might put us there yet. If they go looking for you, what are we going to do?”

  “Nothing. We won’t even be there.”

  “Tom,” she said, her voice raised. “That’s my bloody point.”

  He turned back to the window, his smile widening. “You never used to swear. You’ve become quite the rebel, Elizabeth Margaret Beatrice Davenport.” His smile made it feel as if she were looking at him fifty years ago. He winked. “That means that what I’ve got in mind will be right up your street.”

  They pulled up outside a corner shop, the light beginning to fade. Elizabeth glanced through the window and up at the sign. “I’m not doing that. I thought you were crazy the first time you wrote that on your wish list.”

  “I thought you wanted all the wishes to come true.”

  “Well, maybe not that one. And definitely not at our age.”

  “You’re only as old as you feel, Elizabeth. Come on,” he said, urging her on. “We can get the same one. Why not?”

  Defiance wavered as she looked up to see that the shop looked clean and professional, but still she wasn’t sure. “Well, I’ll come in and have a look, but I’m not making any promises. A tattoo at my age; who’d have thought it?”

  * * *

  They left the shop a little over half an hour later. The tattoo was of Orion, the constellation, and it stretched across their wrists like two of those necklaces whose pendant was only complete when aligned with its other half. Elizabeth had half of it inked onto her right wrist, and Tom the other half onto his left.

  “I don’t know what you were thinking in 1995, Thomas Hale.
” Admiring the little black lines and yellow dots that seemed to sparkle like real stars, she chuckled to herself as they got back into the taxi. She held out her wrist for him to see, and he aligned his arm alongside hers. “I thought you were mad at the time, and I think you are even madder now. But the truth is, I quite like it. The man was an artist. Did you see some of the things he had on the wall? Really, very impressive. If only we could look up at the stars and see it now, but you can’t see a thing in this city.”

  The driver pulled away and into the flow of traffic. “You can’t see much, but there are other views that are beautiful. Would you like me to show you one? It’s one of my favorites, and it’s not far.”

  “Don’t you think we’d better get back?”

  “Indulge me, Elizabeth.” He held her hand. “We might not get to do this again.”

  * * *

  Just a short while later they were climbing to the top of Hampstead Heath. Elizabeth was doing fine on her own, and Tom had the help of their taxi driver, who after hearing their conversation offered to switch his meter off and push Tom up the heath himself. They sat down on the bench overlooking the city as eventide was falling. The lights from the skyscrapers twinkled in the distance, as close to the stars as they would ever get.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he said.

  “You know something?” she said, nuzzling in close. “It really is. And this sort of counts as a mountain. I’m sure you wrote one year that you wanted to climb one together.”

  “Did I? Well, that was a stupid idea.”

  “Well, let’s tick it off the list and be done with it. There are some others we could still do. I know you put a hot-air balloon ride on there. I could try and organize that if you really want.”

  He shook his head. “We wish for all sorts of stupid things when we believe that time is infinite.” His cheeks were pink with the chill of winter, and she could see his eyes glistening in the city lights. “But when you know it’s not, those sorts of wishes don’t mean much anymore. All I care about are the things that really matter now, which are the things that bring me closer to family, and to you. Like my wish that we could have raised a child together. Do you know how much I wished for that? Do you know how much it hurt when I realized we were never going to achieve it?”

  “Oh, Tom,” she said, her voice breaking. She couldn’t look at him then. Kate still hadn’t responded, hadn’t spoken to her since the day she’d learned the truth about who her father really was. Would Elizabeth hurt Tom even more by telling him the truth now, if it was only to be rejected by the daughter he never knew?

  “I don’t mean to make you sad,” he said. “I understand what happened to us.” He reached up, turned her face to meet his. “I failed you, Elizabeth. I let you down. I wish I could turn back time, but neither of us can do that.”

  “I let you down too,” she whispered.

  His lips were cold against her nose as he kissed her. “Maybe. But there is still time to put things right, you know. Every moment we spend together does that.” Angling his wrist in the air, he held it for her to see. “And we have the same tattoo. Nowadays, that’s as good as married.”

  Aware of the taxi driver still lingering behind them, she moved in close and slid her arm through his. “I love you, Thomas Hale,” she said.

  “I love you too.” His grip remained tight, although she no longer knew if it was due to the strength of feeling or the need for her support. “Tell me, did you bring your phone with you?”

  “It’s here in my bag. Why? Do you want to call Alice?”

  He shook his head. “I was wondering if you had any photos of Kate on there. You told me about her, but I’d love to see what she looks like.”

  Hesitating for a moment, sure that to see Kate was to understand her parentage, she eventually reached down to pick up her phone. “I might have one or two old ones.” Painfully she scrolled through, a visual of good memories, before selecting the best one she could find. It was of Kate last year, on the beach, before she learned of her true heritage. Gazing at the image, in which she was smiling and happy, Elizabeth handed it over. “There you go.”

  Even though they had just discussed the inevitable passage of time, it felt in that moment as if it stood still, the vibration of life having quieted as he gazed at his daughter. A tear formed in his eye. “She’s beautiful.” Elizabeth nodded, couldn’t find the right words to reply. “And so much like Alice.”

  Her hands were slippery with sweat as she took the phone, slipped it back into her bag. “Yes, I suppose she is.”

  “I think it would have been quite something to meet her,” he said, his eyes lost in some distant thought. “Just to see what she was like.”

  For a moment no words would come. So many things to say and no way to say them. “Come on,” she said when she heard the driver behind them, shuffling his feet. “It’s high time we got back.”

  * * *

  Panny was waiting for them. After a quick dressing down and a check of his vitals, Tom was soon confined to bed. Elizabeth could feel herself blushing with guilt, but Tom was unrelenting, flashing his wrist at Panny to show off his new tattoo.

  “What are you two like?” she said, unable to sustain the pretense of anger when they explained the concept of the wish list. “Have you got any more wishes that are going to make you disappear from my ward?” He shook his head, still pleased with himself. “Good. Then you best get on the phone to Alice, because she’s been calling near enough the whole time you’ve been gone.”

  * * *

  Alice was pleased to see her father upright and talking once they got the iPad working, at least until she saw the damage done to his face from where he’d fallen in the bathroom the night before. After telling him that he needed to listen to the nurses’ advice, even reminding Elizabeth that she needed to be the voice of reason in her absence, she told him everything was fine in Hastings and that she would be back soon enough.

  “That was nice, wasn’t it?” Elizabeth said when they hung up, patting his hand. “She looked pleased to see you.”

  “Yes, she did,” Tom said, smiling to himself the best he could. He looked a bit shocked by the whole thing. “I don’t know how you did it.”

  “Did what? Got the iPad working?” They had been trying for the best part of two weeks.

  He tutted, shook his head. His patience was becoming increasingly limited, especially when he was tired. Only last night he had pushed his candy all over the floor when he couldn’t finger the black Jelly Babies from the pack.

  “It was a nice trick, that’s all.”

  Elizabeth sat back so that she could move him into focus. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, she looked a lot like Alice.” He chuckled to himself. “Brian arranged it?”

  “What are you talking about? Brian didn’t arrange anything.” When people said that their hearts skipped a beat in a moment of turmoil, they were talking about moments like that one, Elizabeth realized. A life she had lived before with her own mother came into focus, but still she couldn’t believe it. His worst fears had come true. How could he not recognize Alice after such a short period of time? “Tom, love. That was Alice. Your daughter.”

  He snickered, wiped his droopy lip. “Don’t try that one with me. It might have looked an awful lot like her, but I think I’d know my own daughter, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I suppose you would.” Had the photograph of Kate confused him? Her heart was beating so loud it was as if the walls were pulsating, constricted and stretching all at once. It was the first moment she realized that despite her determined vigil by his side, she had little choice but to accept their fate. Despite all the years that he had remembered her, soon enough he would forget her too. Tom was slipping away from them, just a little bit here and there, flaking away like decades-old paint from a weathered Porthsennen door.

  The beeping of her phone distracted her, and she reached into her pocket to pull it out. Of all the nights, it
was a message from Kate, the first in months. Her finger shook as she opened it.

  I’m sorry I haven’t been responding. I found it too hard. But I want to see him. When can I come?

  It was a small chink of light in an otherwise dark night. The relief was massive. Because she knew that Tom was, despite her desperate hopes for a miracle, slipping away. They were running out of time.

  Thank you so much, love. As soon as possible. Love you, Mum x

  And she bargained then, with herself, and maybe with God, for two things: for enough time so that they could all be together, even if it was just once, and for the strength to tell Tom and Alice what she must beforehand. And she made a promise to whoever might have been listening, that she would accept having to lose Tom after that, if it meant Alice didn’t have to watch him slowly disappear. If she didn’t have to dissolve into something unrecognizable to him. It was better to end it sooner rather than later, if they could escape the pain of all that. It was something she had learned long ago, but perhaps only then had begun to understand.

  Then

  Like the gradual shift of the seasons, Tom’s two-month stint on Wolf Rock reached its scheduled conclusion, but when it did, Tom did not return. Rumors about his absence were rife and variable, and none of them satisfied Elizabeth. Atlantic winds battered her coat as she watched the Stella return to Penzance, apprehension and excitement turning over in her tummy. But when two hours later she saw Keeper Williams arriving in Porthsennen instead of Tom, all she could do was look on in dismay. “I’m sorry, lass,” he said, a small bag slung over his shoulder. “Don’t suppose it’s me you were expecting, was it.”