Letters from Lighthouse Cottage

by McNamara, Ali

  I pull away from Danny and look down at my dress.

  ‘Oh no, not again!’ I cry, as I see a large white blob of ice cream lying in my lap, with a half-eaten chocolate flake on top…

  Dear Grace,

  Today you’ll discover a place that’s going to be very important to you in the future.

  Look after it, Grace, because the events that take place there will shape your whole life.

  Love, Me x

  Eight

  Strangely, Danny is not put off by the walking disaster that I am, and we continue to ‘go out with each other’ long after the bus has returned us safely to Sandybridge.

  ‘Going out together’ seemed to mean hanging around each other’s houses watching TV, or very excitingly for me, a video on Danny’s parents’ new VCR that they’d recently bought, rather than actually going out on dates.

  ‘You are so lucky being able to record things and watch them whenever you want,’ I’d told Danny the first time we’d watched a recorded programme. It was only The A-Team, but that didn’t matter. I’d been completely enthralled by the feeling of using such a magical piece of modern-day machinery. It was all I could do to get my parents to update to a colour TV a few years ago, and that was only because Mum had wanted to watch Gardeners’ World, which without colour was left a little lacking.

  But aside from lounging around in each other’s sitting rooms (neither of us was allowed to take the other up to our bedroom), hanging around the promenade with some of Danny’s friends, and taking the occasional walk together – we couldn’t take Wilson, because for some inexplicable reason he’d taken against Danny the moment he met him, and had to be shut outside in the garden anytime he came round to our house – we didn’t actually do all that much. There was kissing, of course; plenty of that went on. One time Danny got a bit too enthusiastic and tried to fiddle with my bra strap when we were sitting on my lounge sofa and my parents were out. But I’d panicked and said I thought I heard Wilson barking, and I should probably go and check on him. When I returned to the sofa, it was as if nothing had happened, and we just went back to holding hands while listening to the rest of my Spandau Ballet album.

  ‘It’s my birthday next week,’ Danny announces casually as we sit in his lounge on the sofa, this time watching a recorded episode of Dempsey and Makepeace.

  ‘Is it?’ I ask, surprised. ‘You didn’t say.’

  ‘Just did, didn’t I?’ Danny grins, and his smile as always sends a very pleasant shiver right through me.

  ‘Are you doing anything?’ I ask, my mind already trying to work out what I might buy him. Maybe that Van Halen album we were looking at the other day in Woolworths?

  ‘The lads are wanting to throw me a party, since it’s the end of term as well. But we don’t know where to hold it.’

  ‘Can’t you hold it at someone’s house?’ I ask, trying to be helpful. Ooh, what about a videocassette of the new Rocky movie? I think. I’m sure that’s out now.

  Danny gives me a withering look.

  ‘What?’

  ‘We could, if someone had parents who didn’t mind their house getting trashed.’

  ‘Oh.’ I feel my cheeks redden. ‘Will it be that bad?’

  The last birthday party I’d gone to, we all sang ‘Happy Birthday’ while the birthday girl blew out the candles on her cake, then we all went home with pieces of the cake wrapped in a serviette, and a balloon and a pencil in a party bag.

  ‘Most probably.’

  ‘So you’re looking for somewhere like a barn, or a big hall to hold it in?’

  ‘Yeah, if we knew any farmers, or had any money to hire a place.’

  ‘Hmm…’ I try to think of somewhere, so I can impress Danny with my knowledge and party-planning skills. But I can’t. I have little experience of teenage parties – big or small. Let alone places to hold them in. ‘I’ll keep thinking,’ I promise him. ‘Leave it with me.’

  ‘Danny wants to hold a party for his birthday,’ I tell Charlie the next day as we walk Wilson along the beach together. Charlie and I are still close, even though I’m seeing Danny, and I always make sure to find time for him. Luckily, with Danny and Wilson’s issues, dog-walking is still something Charlie and I always do together.

  ‘Where?’ Charlie asks, watching Wilson chase along the beach after a tennis ball that Charlie now brought on all Wilson’s walks. ‘To keep him amused,’ he’d said the first time it had been produced from his pocket.

  ‘To keep him distracted from digging to Australia, you mean!’

  ‘Well, there is that too.’

  But the ball had been a great success, even after Wilson had lost the first one in the sea. Charlie had produced another, and now Wilson delighted in ‘fetch’ – well, his version of it. He would fetch the ball until something else on the beach took his fancy. Then it would be up to us to ‘fetch’ the ball, while Wilson chewed happily on a plastic bottle, or whatever else he could find washed up on the sand.

  ‘He doesn’t know yet where he’s going to hold it. That’s the problem. Apparently there might be damage if they hold it at someone’s house.’

  ‘Apparently? I think it’s more than likely.’ Charlie grins at me. ‘For someone so keen to get out there and explore the world, you have quite a narrow view of it sometimes.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You’re an innocent, Gracie, an innocent in a big bad world.’

  ‘I am not!’

  Charlie raises his eyebrows at me in that annoying way he has when he thinks he’s right.

  ‘I’m no more innocent than you, Charlie Parker!’

  ‘It depends in what sense we’re talking.’ Charlie reaches down and picks up Wilson’s ball again. Wilson sets off across the sand before he’s even had a chance to throw it. ‘If we’re talking relationships,’ Charlie says, managing to throw the ball just in front of where Wilson eagerly waits, ‘then I guess you are one step ahead of me now you’re dating Danny “hotter than hot” Lucas. It’s further than I’ve got with any girl.’

  I nod in agreement.

  ‘But if we’re talking worldly wise… then I’m afraid I win hands down.’

  ‘Why do you?’ I snap. As much as I like Charlie, he can be quite infuriating sometimes.

  ‘Because I’ve travelled… well, I’ve lived in lots of different places. My dad was a chef in the army so we went wherever he was stationed. It’s only now he’s retired we’re settling down in one place. Where have you been?’

  I’m annoyed, but I know he’s right. The furthest I’ve visited is when my parents went to Cambridge for an auction. ‘And that is exactly why I want to travel and get away from here when I can,’ I tell him, not admitting he’s right.

  ‘And why I would be quite happy doing the opposite, and settling down here eventually. Change isn’t always for the best. Sometimes it’s good to put down roots somewhere and make it your home.’

  ‘Perhaps, but I’m not ready to do that just yet! And neither should you be, you old codger!’ I laugh as I race off up the beach in front of him.

  We’d discovered one day that, even though we’re in the same year at school, Charlie’s almost a year older than me because of when our birthdays fall – mine in August and Charlie’s in September.

  ‘Less of that – you whippersnapper!’ Charlie mimics, sounding like an elderly man as he chases after me.

  I sprint off up the beach with Wilson bounding along next to me, and Charlie close behind. I’ve always been fairly fast, there aren’t many of the girls who could outrun me at school, but I’m not expecting to outrun Charlie, who’s small, thin and built like a whippet.

  I keep running until I get to the end of the beach, then Wilson and I take the little footpath that leads up past the lighthouse away from the sand, and continues through a small thicket of pine trees that runs alongside the beach. When we emerge from the other side of the trees we find ourselves a few feet away from a high wall built with crumbling honey-and-terracotta-coloured b
ricks.

  I stop to catch my breath, and to allow Charlie to catch up with me.

  ‘You’re fast!’ he says, panting as he appears through the trees.

  ‘Thanks,’ I say. ‘At least I can do something better than you!’

  ‘Don’t be like that,’ Charlie says, sounding apologetic. ‘I didn’t mean anything by what I said. I’m quite jealous of you, actually. It must be nice to stay in one place for more than a year.’

  I shrug. Charlie and I would never agree on this.

  ‘It’s like having curly hair,’ I tell him.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Curly hair. If you’ve got it, you hate it and want it straight. And if you’ve got straight hair, you’re always wanting to curl it.’

  Charlie nods, and then he looks at me with an odd expression.

  ‘You mean you always want what you can’t have?’ he asks quietly, almost as if he’s saying it to himself.

  ‘Yes, exactly that.’

  ‘Yeah, I know how that feels.’

  I look at Charlie. What does he mean?

  ‘Do you know where we are?’ I ask, deciding to overlook his strange behaviour. Charlie’s often quite deep, and I don’t always get what he means.

  Charlie jumps from his contemplative state, and looks around him.

  ‘Nope. Don’t think I’ve ever been here.’

  ‘We’re on the border of the Sandybridge Hall estate. Behind that wall is the house and grounds. You can only see the house from the end of the beach because it’s up on a hill.’

  Charlie looks up at the mottled rusty red and golden yellow bricks.

  ‘I’ve heard about the hall, but I’ve never seen it properly. Does someone live there?’

  ‘Not any more,’ I say, moving closer to the wall. I put my foot in a crevice in the bricks and hoist myself up so I can see the house properly. ‘Come and see for yourself.’

  Charlie does as I’ve done and finds a worn area of brick that he can get a foothold in. Then he lifts himself up so we’re level.

  ‘Whoa, big place,’ he says, seeing the house for the first time. ‘What is it, an Elizabethan mansion? Check out that moat, it’s like a castle.’

  ‘Close. It’s Tudor,’ I tell him. ‘We came here to do a house clearance a while ago – only the gamekeeper’s lodge at the bottom of the drive, not the main house. All the antiques from the house were put into storage when the owner had to move out. Apparently he’s still trying to sell the place; it’s too expensive to run.’

  ‘Just look at the grounds,’ Charlie says, gazing in awe at the acres and acres of lawns, trees and plants. ‘There must be a whole colony of Sandybridge nature living here. Is that a lake I can see in the distance?’

  ‘I think so. I’ve only ever been here the once, and like I said, that was only to the lodge. The owner of the main house was pretty private; it wasn’t open to the public or anything. I think his family had lived there for years though; he’s the last one, according to Mum. Seems a shame he has to sell.’

  ‘So there’s no one here now?’ Charlie asks, jumping down from the wall.

  ‘Nope,’ I reply, doing the same. ‘It’s empty, as far as I know.’

  ‘Then let’s go explore!’ Charlie says, his eyes lighting up.

  ‘Why would we want to do that? It’s only an old house.’

  Charlie sighs. ‘Ah, Gracie, now where’s that sense of adventure that’s going to take you around the world?’

  ‘Not behind this wall, that’s for sure.’

  Charlie grins now. ‘Maybe not, but what if we’d found somewhere for lover boy to hold his birthday party?’

  I look blankly at Charlie.

  ‘The house?’ Charlie prompts, nodding back at the wall. ‘You said it was empty.’

  ‘Could we really hold it there, do you think?’ I ask, my mind already turning over the possibilities for holding a party at Sandybridge Hall. ‘Wouldn’t we get in trouble?’

  ‘Why don’t we go and find out?’ Charlie asks, pulling himself up on to the wall again. ‘That’s if you dare…’

  ‘But what about Wilson?’ I ask, watching Wilson sniff a patch of earth next to the wall. He then paws the earth, his usual ritual before he begins digging. ‘He can’t climb over a wall, and I can’t leave him behind.’

  Charlie looks at Wilson, then he smiles. ‘For once, Gracie, I think you’re going to be very happy that Wilson loves to dig holes!’

  Nine

  While Wilson continues to dig next to the wall, earth flying everywhere. Charlie and I manage to scramble up using footholds in the crumbling bricks, then when we are both balancing precariously on the top, we decide the only way to get down the other side is to jump.

  Charlie goes first, landing sure-footedly on the grass below. Then it’s my turn. I try to do the same, but I land on an uneven patch of grass and stumble into Charlie, who deftly catches me, and prevents me falling any further.

  ‘Thanks,’ I say to a red-faced Charlie, as he lifts one hand from my upper arm and the other from a rather delicate area of my chest.

  ‘Anytime,’ he replies. ‘Oh, I don’t mean that, I mean…’

  ‘Yes, it’s fine; I know what you mean,’ I reply hurriedly, to save further embarrassment. I brush some brick dust from my jeans. ‘Now let’s see if we can get Wilson through here too.’

  I never thought I’d find myself encouraging Wilson to dig, but that’s what Charlie and I do, and much quicker than I expect, we see a very grubby-looking Wilson appear on the other side of the wall. Looking extremely pleased with himself, he gives a huge shake, scattering clumps of earth everywhere, then looks up at me, wondering if I’m going to change my mind about this new hole and scold him.

  ‘No,’ I say, ruffling his head, ‘you did good, this time!’

  To begin with the three of us walk tentatively across the vast lawns. Well, two of us do; Wilson bounds along, stopping frequently to sniff or occasionally cock his leg. The grass below us, which in its day would have no doubt been kept neat and tidy by a gardener riding up and down on a large lawnmower, is starting to look quite dishevelled and overgrown already.

  ‘I guess these lawns would have had sheep grazing on them in Tudor times,’ Charlie says, obviously thinking similar, if probably more factually correct, thoughts to me. ‘Either that or a lot of servants brandishing scythes. I bet they were pleased when the lawnmower was invented!’

  ‘It’s funny, isn’t it, how you just take something like a lawnmower for granted,’ I reply, hiding my embarrassment.

  ‘I guess that’s why a lot of people find history interesting: finding out how people did things differently to us, how they lived. How they coped before the gadgets we take for granted were invented.’

  ‘I guess…’ I haven’t ever thought about history like that. I’ve become a little more interested in it since I’ve been with Danny; his enthusiasm for the subject is contagious. But at school all they teach us is boring battle dates, and when monarchs had died. If they taught stuff about normal, everyday people, it might be a bit more interesting.

  At Charlie’s insistence we head towards the lake first, and he pauses to examine the water and any wildlife he can spot floating around in it. He informs me there are some newts, koi carp, and little water boatmen swimming around. There’s almost a large shaggy dog to add to the list when Wilson tries to jump in too, but we manage to distract him by throwing a stick for him to chase. Then we head back through the grounds with Charlie spotting wildlife (a rabbit, and a tiny muntjac deer) and many varieties of birds, as we go.

  ‘Isn’t this place great!’ Charlie says, turning full circle as we pause before the little stone bridge that leads across the moat to the front entrance of the house. ‘Wouldn’t you love to live somewhere like this, with all this nature on your doorstep, and the wonder of the beach only a few steps away?’

  ‘No,’ I say categorically, as I walk purposefully across the bridge and rattle one of the iron handles hanging from the double doors. �
��When I have my own house it will be brand new, not old and crumbling like this.’

  ‘I thought you were getting into all this history stuff since you’ve been with Danny?’ Charlie says, following me across the bridge.

  ‘Yes, I am. I don’t know why I wasn’t before really. I guess Danny makes it seem much more exciting.’ But strangely nowhere near as thought-provoking as my conversation with Charlie about sheep and lawnmowers had been. While Charlie had been trying to educate me about all the flora and fauna at Sandybridge Hall, my mind had been full of other thoughts; thoughts about the past and the people who had lived there. Especially the occupants of this house I was now so desperate to get into.

  ‘He makes it exciting, does he?’ Charlie asks playfully. ‘What does he do – dress up in costumes and re-enact battle scenes for you?’ He pretends to brandish a sword as he dances across the bridge in pretend combat with an imaginary opponent. Wilson dopily follows him, sniffing at his legs.

  ‘No, we just talk about stuff, and sometimes we watch documentaries.’ It does sound a bit dull now I’m saying it out loud. But both Danny and Charlie seem to have awakened something inside me, something I never thought I’d find: an interest in the past.

  I leave the door and walk past Charlie, wondering if I can see into one of the ground-floor windows. But because the house is surrounded on all sides by water, all I can see from this distance are empty rooms covered in different shades of heavy flocked wallpaper.

  ‘It sounds absolutely thrilling!’ Charlie mocks, as he follows me across the grass with Wilson in tow. ‘Can I come round and join you sometime? I could do with some help getting off to sleep.’

  ‘You’re just jealous,’ I say, giving him a taste of his own medicine.