Betsy is the only one standing up for me. Colonel Trengove thinks it is way past time for me to retire. But he has never had much regard for the intellectual capacity of women. Gertie and Aggie seem almost afraid of me - afraid of what I might do next.
If Betsy hadn’t spoken up for me, I believe I would have been out on my ear there and then. As it is, they have left it up to me to decide. I am being given the choice, or the illusion of choice.
If only I knew what the right decision were.
Fay could feel the anguish coming off the page. It wrung her heart that Tabitha had been wrestling with these decisions in her last days.
How did it feel for your mind to be going? Did you feel yourself slipping in and out of that unreliable state? Or was it as if someone else had been doing the things you were accused of?
She still had a few minutes, so Fay read on. The following days had brought new developments.
June 17
I am feeling uneasy in my mind about the safety of Bluff Lighthouse.
Is this all part of my delusion? Is my sick mind playing tricks on me? I cannot shake the feeling that the lighthouse is under threat.
It was my turn to work at the lighthouse today. I was sorting through some papers that had been left on the desk from the day before. My attention was caught by a certain hand-drawn diagram.
I looked at it more closely and a feeling of dread overcame me. It seemed to me to be a sketch of the best way to sabotage the clockwork mechanism that controls the lighthouse. It was accompanied by a pile of further schematics. Unless I was mistaken, the plan would have interrupted the light for a short time only. But in matters of maritime safety, a few minutes are enough to cause disaster.
Oh diary, how I wish I could undo what I did next.
I went upstairs to the upper platform to confirm what I was seeing on the sketch. I examined the clockwork mechanism and saw how it could be effectively interrupted for the space of an hour.
Feeling rather pleased with myself, I walked downstairs and resumed my station at the desk.
And when I looked for the sketch and schematics to confirm what I had seen, they were gone. Diary, I have not seen them again from that day to this.
Chapter 17
“There you are.”
Fay looked up in surprise. She had been so wrapped up in the diary that it was an effort to pull herself back into reality.
“Sorry, Mor. Did you want me?”
“Duncan McCloud is here. Shall I show him what to do?”
“Oh yes, thank you. It shouldn’t take him more than an hour. Why don’t you invite him to stay for lunch afterwards? That way we can all get to know him.”
“That’s a good idea. He looks a little intimidating with that dragon on his cheek, but he seems like a nice lad otherwise.”
Fay wondered how many times Duncan had come across that reaction.
Morwen’s impression that he was a nice lad was reinforced over the next hour as he uncomplainingly cleared the room that had been earmarked to be converted into another guest suite. It was a job Fay and Morwen had been putting off for weeks. They didn’t fancy the job themselves and didn’t like to ask Pen to do it either.
When Duncan was finished, he happily accepted the invitation to lunch.
“This is much nicer than the pack of sandwiches I brought to work this morning.” He indicated the golden roast chicken Morwen had prepared. “I finished my sandwiches by ten o’clock anyway, so I was planning to pop out and buy a pie. This looks delicious – thank you.”
“It’s a pleasure, Duncan. You sit down, and I’ll give you a nice big helping.” Morwen had a soft spot for young men, being a mother to two of them.
Duncan looked up and his eyes widened. “Who … is that?”
He was staring at Maggie who had just walked into the kitchen and gone to wash her hands.
“That’s Maggie Binnie,” said Fay. “She works here.”
“Right.” A tide of color swept up from his neck to his hairline, making the dragon look more fiery than ever. “From Binnie’s Organics? My aunt loves their honey.”
Maggie sat at the table and smiled at Duncan. If the tattoo bothered her, she didn’t show it.
“That honey is bottled from our own hives. We have a patch of pesticide-free lavender that the bees go crazy for. It gives the honey a unique flavor. People love it.”
“Well, my aunt is a big fan.”
“I met your aunt at the lighthouse museum the other day.” Fay passed him the gravy. “Are the two of you quite close?”
“She has been very good to me. She is always giving me good advice and encouraging me to put my best foot forward. I had a little trouble when I was younger, see.”
Morwen gave his hand a sympathetic pat. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
“No, it’s all right. I was sixteen at the time and thought I was doing the smart thing by leaving school. I thought it was a better use of my time to be out making money rather than spending two years getting my A-levels. This was a few years ago when the economy was really bad. The only jobs I could get lasted no more than a few weeks. I became desperate for money. And of course, I didn’t like to ask my aunt for help.”
Morwen’s face fell as she imagined her own boys in this situation. “I’m sure she would have been pleased to help.”
Duncan shrugged. “I fell in with a bad crowd. I can see that now. At the time, they seemed so cool. They always had lots of money and the latest designer labels. Two of them were brothers. One day they told me they wanted to borrow their father’s car. Just take it for a spin, you know? I was to be the lookout. And I was to pass them what they needed. They offered me two hundred pounds for the job, which seemed like a fortune to me at the time. It still does, really.”
Fay shook her head. She already knew how this story ended.
“Of course, it all went wrong,” Duncan continued. “The cops rolled up just as they got the car door open. They shoved the crow-bar at me and took off. I was standing there flat-footed holding a crow-bar when the police arrested me. Turns out it wasn’t their father’s car at all. It was just an expensive German motorcar that they wanted to steal. And it turns out that motor vehicle theft is treated pretty seriously. I was tried as an adult even though I was seventeen at the time. I spent two years in prison.” He glanced up at Maggie and looked away quickly. “That’s where I got this tattoo. The other guys were getting one and it seemed like a good idea at the time. My aunt told me I would find it hard to get a job when I got out of prison because of it, and she was right.”
“As long as you’re making better choices these days, things can only get better,” said Morwen.
He pulled a face. “My problem is that I keep getting pulled into stupid get-rich-quick schemes. I really need to work on that.”
Fay wondered how recently his last get-rich-quick scheme had been.
“You should learn a trade - that’s what you should do,” said Maggie.
The color surged back into Duncan’s face. “What do you mean?”
“The only jobs that pay consistently better than the national average are the skilled trades – like being a plumber or an electrician. And the best part is that you make money while you’re learning the job. You don’t want to pack crates for the rest of your life, do you?”
“You … you know what I do?”
“Sure. I’ve seen you down at the docks. It’s not a bad way to earn money but learning a trade would be even better.”
Fay glanced from Maggie to their guest, wondering how Duncan felt about being offered advice by someone who, at nineteen, was two years his junior. He stared at her with a rapt expression. Apparently, he was fine with it.
“You’re right – I should have a proper think about that.”
“A few of us are going to the pub later,” said Maggie. “About eight o’clock. You should come along. We could talk about it some more.”
Duncan’s cheeks were now vermillion
.
“I … I’d like that.”
“Good. I’ll see you there then.” Maggie reapplied herself to her roast chicken, apparently unaware of the earthquakes she was causing in Duncan’s peace of mind.
A second message from Doc Dyer arrived at two-thirty when Fay was immersed in comparing quotes from different building contractors for converting the now empty room into a guest suite. It looked as though the builder that her grandmother had used was the best option. His prices were the most competitive and Fay already knew that the quality of his work was high.
She looked up when her phone buzzed.
Barty Dyer: I’ve got you a Museums committee gig. They are meeting this afternoon at six to discuss the future of Bluff Lighthouse. Tabitha used to take the minutes at these meetings. I’ve volunteered you to fill in for her. See you then.
Fay: Wait. What? I don’t know how to take minutes. I’ll make a mess of it and they’ll all be mad at me.
Barty Dyer: Nonsense. There’s nothing to it. You make a note of the date and the place and what the meeting is about. You record who’s present. Then you write down everything that everyone says and type it into a formal document afterwards. Easy peasy.
Fay: Easy peasy? I don’t think so. I can’t write that fast. Find me something easier to do.
Barty Dyer: This is easy! You don’t have to write down every word they say. Just capture the gist. You’re a woman. Aren’t you supposed to be naturally good at this kind of thing?
He ended his message with a string of winking emojis to show that he was joking. Fay responded with a string of angry face emojis. Then she typed some more.
Fay: I guess it won’t be so bad. That time I chased an armed drug dealer into a blind alley without backup was worse. Thanks for organizing this. I’ll see you later.
As she walked down the hill to the village just before six, Fay had to admit that this was the ideal opportunity to observe the Museums committee members in their natural habitat. Doc Dyer met her halfway down the high street and walked the rest of the way to the committee’s offices with her.
“How are my kittens?” he asked.
“They’re fine. I’ve just been playing with them. They had their shots yesterday and they’re showing no signs of an adverse reaction. If all goes well, you can have them the day after tomorrow.”
Doc Dyer’s smile nearly split his face in half. “I can’t wait.”
“I got the impression that David can wait - quite a long time.”
“Stuff and nonsense,” declared David’s father. “That’s part of why I’m so excited. David is a secret animal lover. But he came to associate loving animals with losing his mother. We had several beloved pets who all died around the time that we lost his mother. They were old and died of natural causes, but they were the beloved animals he had grown up with. After that, it was as though he was afraid to love again. He was too scared to invest his emotions in anyone, human or animal.”
“That’s really sad.”
“It is. If you’d ever watched David with an animal, you’d realize that he has a real affinity for them.”
“I’ve noticed that. I’ve watched him with my cats, and they all love him, even the shy ones. He has a way with them.”
“That’s part of why I’m adopting the kittens. Mostly, I want them for myself, but I also want to remind David that he has a loving heart inside that stiff, double-breasted suit of his. It’s bad enough that he has chosen to be with a woman he doesn’t love. He doesn’t have to cut himself off from animals too.”
Fay gave him a stern look. “Now, Doc. You promised that you weren’t going to interfere.”
“Who’s interfering? I’m just adopting a couple of cats.” They had reached the stairs that led to the Museums committee offices. Doc Dyer stood back for Fay to precede him. “Sometimes a kitten is just a kitten.”
Chapter 18
The other committee members had already arrived.
Fay made a note of who was present: the chairman of the Museums Committee – Gertrude Hart, the treasurer – Elizabeth (Betsy) McCloud, committee member – Agatha Rose, committee member – Dr. Bartemius Dyer, committee member – Colonel Harry Trengove.
“Thanks for volunteering your time to take the minutes for us, Miss Penrose,” said Gertie.
“Please call me Fay. I was happy to help. I understand you’ve been short-handed since Tabitha died.”
“She was our secretary. It’s going to be difficult to replace her.”
“Unless you would like to take on the job.” Colonel Trengove gave Fay a hopeful look.
“I’m afraid I don’t have the time.”
Betsy clucked her tongue at Colonel Trengove. “You know this isn’t the job for a young working person, Harry. We’ve often discussed it. It is only suitable for retirees like us.”
“Yes, but I thought … a young woman like that. She’ll be getting married soon and giving up her job. I’m sure she could spare us some time.”
Doc Dyer caught Fay’s eye and winked at her. “Stop being such a dinosaur, Harry. Firstly, Fay has no plans to get married. And secondly, women don’t stop working when they get married these days.”
He saw that Colonel Trengove was opening his mouth to protest, so he clapped his hands together.
“Let’s call this meeting to order. Fay and I put in a full day’s work today. We’d like to get home to our dinners at a reasonable hour if possible.”
The committee members distributed themselves around the table to begin the meeting. Aggie brought in a tea tray and everyone helped themselves. Fay noticed Gertie, Aggie and Colonel Trengove surreptitiously sniffing the milk. When they were satisfied, they poured it into their tea.
“The first order of business is the future of the museum at Bluff Lighthouse,” said Gertie.
“I can’t understand why that issue was even placed on the agenda,” said Aggie. “It’s one of our most profitable museums. Why do we need to consider whether it has a future or not? Of course it does. The income from Bluff Lighthouse is used to subsidize our less well-performing museums like the Rare Book Depository at the public library. There’s no reason why Bluff Lighthouse shouldn’t continue to perform well. Tourism is increasing at a steady year-on-year rate of four-point-five percent. The tourists love that old lighthouse.”
“Very true, Aggie. But that’s not exactly what I meant. I received a communication from the harbormaster’s office that they are thinking about modernizing the lighthouse. There’s a proposal to electrify it in order to make it more reliable.”
A hum of conversation broke out around the table. Some people seemed to think this was an excellent idea, while others were horrified. Under cover of the pandemonium, Fay slipped her phone out of her pocket and sent a text to Doc Dyer.
Fay: Am I allowed to make comments and ask questions, or must I sit here quietly and take the minutes?
Doc Dyer glanced at his screen. He sent a quick reply.
Barty Dyer: You can participate. You’re the honorary secretary today, after all.
“The old system has worked well for centuries.” Fay raised her voice to cut through the babble. “Why does the harbormaster’s office want to change it now?”
“There are whispers that the wreck of the Sinead was caused by lighthouse failure,” said Gertie.
Betsy tutted. “What nonsense. I’ve heard those rumors and they originate from the captain. He’s trying to excuse his own failure by putting the blame on the lighthouse.”
“Quite right,” said Colonel Trengove. “That lighthouse always has worked perfectly well. I’ve inspected the mechanism myself and it is flawless. Why would it suddenly malfunction now?”
“It seems the harbormaster has heard the stories about our poor Tabitha,” said Gertie. “I think we are all aware that she was getting a little unreliable towards the end. They are concerned that the element of human error could cause the lighthouse to fail. As we know, the coast around here is extremely treacherous. It doesn’t af
fect boats in the shipping lanes further out to sea, but the ones that call into port here have to sail closer to shore. They are most at risk from the underground rocks. Without the two lighthouses providing guidance there can be terrible accidents, as we’ve seen with the Sinead.”
Betsy’s expression was stubborn. “There was nothing wrong with Tabitha. None of you knew her like I did. She was as bright as a button. And a lovely person too.”
Aggie looked sympathetic, but Gertie was angry. “I know you were friends, Betsy, but you can’t keep defending her like this. We all saw the deterioration in her. We suffered its consequences. Loyalty is all very well, but not when it turns into blind stupidity.”
“Did any of you see Tabitha appearing confused?” asked Fay. “Or did you simply see the consequences of that confusion, like the bleach in the milk jug?”
There was a flurry of mutters and raised eyebrows around the table.
“It wasn’t just the consequences of her confusion,” said Betsy, sounding reluctant. “There was that one time …”
“The one time that we know of,” added Colonel Trengove. “There were probably plenty of others that we never saw.”
“The one time,” said Betsy. “Tabitha turned up to an early morning committee meeting looking a little unsteady.”
“That’s an understatement,” grunted the Colonel.
“I’m afraid it was more than that,” said Gertie. “She was completely off balance and incoherent. She stumbled around as though she were intoxicated.”
The Cat That Wasn't There Page 11
