Letters from Lighthouse Cottage

by McNamara, Ali

  As I walk along the path I get glimpses of Sandybridge Hall through the trees.

  ‘I wonder who has bought you this time?’ I murmur as I pause to look through one of the gaps. ‘You’ve known some owners over the years, eh?’

  I carry on my way, thinking about the house and all the reincarnations it’s had over the years, from party venue to restaurant. ‘Let’s hope this time the person who’s bought you will look after you properly,’ I whisper. Then I turn and walk towards the lighthouse and its little cottage neighbour.

  Lighthouse Cottage is as pretty as it’s always been. Whitewashed all over, like its bigger brother, it still has the same pink roses climbing up and over its wooden front door that I remember from when I was a girl, and came here the first time with Mum. That was the day I’d first come into contact with Remy.

  I think about the typewriter now as I wait for Charlie to come to the door.

  I haven’t asked Remy anything else since he advised me to stay close to the people who love me. He’d been right though; my staying in Sandybridge for a while had helped Mum no end.

  Maybe I should ask him whether I ought to remain here permanently.

  Then there had been the second, bonus letter, the one about me watching for new opportunities. I wasn’t sure what that could mean. My heart was closed, Remy was right about that, and I intended for it to remain so. It had been hurt far too much in the break-up for me to risk opening it up again to further abuse.

  ‘Hey,’ Charlie says, breaking into my thoughts as he opens the front door to greet me. ‘You made it then?’

  ‘Hey, yourself,’ I reply, checking my watch. ‘Not late, am I?’

  ‘A few minutes, but it doesn’t matter. Come in!’

  I follow Charlie through into the cottage, thinking how he’s always been overly punctual, where I’ve always been the opposite – something that used to drive him mad.

  ‘You’ve decorated since I was last here,’ I say as we walk through the clutter-free hall. ‘And not too long ago,’ I add, catching a whiff of fresh paint.

  ‘Yeah, I thought it was time for a change,’ Charlie says, heading for the kitchen. ‘I’m hardly ever here now, so I was thinking of renting the place out.’

  I’m surprised to hear this. I’ve always thought of Lighthouse Cottage as Charlie’s bolthole from the stresses and strains of his international business.

  ‘You don’t approve?’ Charlie asks, opening the bottle-green Aga to check his dish, some sort of pie by the look of it.

  ‘It’s not that I don’t approve, I just thought you’d keep the cottage as a sort of retreat, a place to get away from it all.’

  Charlie closes the oven door and looks at me.

  ‘Do you think I should keep it then? I mean, I wasn’t going to sell it, just rent it out.’

  I look around the kitchen and memories of the times I’ve been in here suddenly come flooding back to me – the first time Charlie met Ava, the first time I met Louisa. The times Charlie and I had sat in his sitting room drinking wine and putting the world to rights. We’d talked about our lives – the good times and the bad. I’d cried on Charlie’s shoulder about Simon, and Charlie had poured out his heart to me about Louisa.

  ‘Yes, I definitely think you should keep it. There are too many memories here, Charlie – we’ve shared such special times here, you and I – it would be awful if some stranger came and broke into our little bubble.’

  Charlie listens to me, then he smiles.

  ‘I’m so pleased you said that, because that’s exactly how I feel. I thought I might be being a bit silly or too sentimental, hanging on to a house I hardly use. But we have had some good times here, haven’t we?’

  I nod, walk across the red-brick kitchen floor and wrap my arms around him. Charlie does the same to me, so we’re holding each other around the waist.

  ‘We certainly have,’ I tell him, looking into his eyes. ‘And hopefully there will be many more to come in the future. Now, I must ask you something very important.’

  ‘What’s that?’ Charlie asks, worried.

  ‘Can you smell burning?’

  Charlie rescues his slightly chargrilled dish – a home-made lasagne – from the Aga, and after I’ve helped him prepare a salad we sit down to eat at the scrubbed wooden table in the cosy kitchen.

  ‘This is delicious,’ I say, sampling my lasagne. ‘I didn’t know you could cook.’

  Charlie laughs. ‘Considering my whole business is based around a bakery, I should hope I can!’

  ‘Ha ha, very funny. No, I meant cook meals. Obviously you know a bit about baking cakes!’

  ‘Yeah, I taught myself a while ago. There’s only so many ready meals you should eat in your life, and I think I’ve had my fair share of them over the years. Especially after Louisa left.’

  I’ve never understood why Charlie hasn’t found someone else after Louisa, but he’s always insisted he’s quite happy on his own, and a woman would only confuse things.

  ‘Well, I for one am glad you’ve found this new skill. I can’t wait to taste the pie we’re having for dessert – what is it? Apple?’

  ‘And blackberry.’

  ‘Yum!’

  ‘So have you given any more thought to how long you might stay with your mother?’ Charlie asks, pronging some pasta on to his fork, and scooping up cheese and tomato sauce to go with it. ‘You said the other day you weren’t sure.’

  ‘I’m still not. It’s so difficult to know what to do for the best. Mum still desperately wants me to stay here with her, and to be honest I’m starting to wonder if it might be a good idea.’

  ‘Really?’ Charlie asks, surprised. ‘I never thought I’d hear you say that. I remember when you couldn’t wait to get away from Sandybridge!’

  ‘Yes, I know, but I guess we change as we get older, and our priorities change too. Mum needs me, and Ava certainly seems a lot happier and healthier since we’ve been here. Perhaps moving back would be for the best.’

  ‘Sounds as though you’ve already made your mind up.’

  ‘I know, but what would I do and where would I live if I did move here? Much as I love Mum, I can’t move in with her permanently – I need my own space. And I can’t work at the shop forever either, so I’d need to find work. You know me, Charlie, I need a project, I need to feel I’m achieving something in life, otherwise I stagnate.’

  Charlie looks at me thoughtfully. ‘I may be able to help you out.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Remember what I was saying earlier about finding someone to rent the cottage? Why don’t you and Ava take it? I don’t want any rent – you’d be doing me a favour looking after the place. Like I said, I’m hardly ever here these days.’

  I stare at Charlie across the table, my fork hovering between my plate and my mouth. He’s come up with what sounds like the perfect solution, but I don’t want to be beholden to him, best friend or not.

  ‘It sounds lovely, Charlie, but what would I do here? I still need a job.’

  ‘That I can’t help you with, sadly. As you know, most of my staff are now scattered about the country at our various offices. The only staff I have based here in Sandybridge are the two ladies that look after the bakery exhibition in the lighthouse.’

  ‘Oh, I know, and I wouldn’t expect anything more from you. But if I were to take you up on your kind offer of the cottage, I’d have to insist on paying rent, and that means I need a job.’

  ‘I told you, Gracie, I don’t want rent. I’d be happy to be giving you and Ava a home.’

  I shake my head. ‘I’d have to insist on paying you. Look, I know you don’t need the money, Charlie, now you’re a multimillionaire or whatever, but I need to feel independent.’

  Charlie nods. ‘I understand. So you’ll definitely take it then – the cottage?’

  I look around the kitchen. I’ve always loved this little house from the first time I set foot in here with Mum. It has a lovely warm, cosy feel about it, and I know that Ava and
I would be happy here.

  I also know that Simon wouldn’t object if I moved back to Sandybridge. He’s recently taken a job in Dubai, collecting valuable works of art for some wealthy sheikh, so it’s unlikely he’ll want to see Ava too often while he’s living out there.

  ‘Yes, I will,’ I say emphatically. ‘But,’ I interrupt quickly before Charlie can begin celebrating, ‘on…’ I think hurriedly, ‘three conditions.’

  ‘Go on.’ Charlie takes a sip of his red wine.

  ‘One: that I can get Ava into the local primary school. It can be a nightmare getting children into schools they haven’t been signed up to for years.’

  Charlie nods. ‘I think you might be OK: one of the ladies that works for me also works part-time at the school, and I’m sure I remember her saying it was lovely here because the primary school was never over-subscribed, so the children all get individual attention.’

  ‘That’s good to know,’ I say, warming even more to this idea. The primary school I’d signed Ava up for in London was filled to maximum capacity.

  ‘What’s next?’ Charlie asks, obviously eager to solve every problem I might find to prevent us moving.

  ‘I must find a job. I can work with Mum for the time being, until I find her an assistant, but then I need to get something that will pay enough to support Ava and me. Preferably something that I won’t be bored stiff doing!’

  Charlie smiles and shakes his head.

  ‘I’m a tough old bird to please, eh?’ I say, grinning back.

  ‘Enough of the old!’ Charlie winks. ‘I’m eleven months older than you, remember? So, you said three things. What’s your third condition?’

  ‘Ah, this one could be the hardest for you to solve, Charlie Parker…’

  ‘Why, what is it?’ Charlie asks anxiously.

  ‘I must insist that…’ I pause for effect, ‘you come to Sandybridge to visit Ava and me on a regular basis!’

  Charlie looks immediately relieved. ‘That goes without saying! I’ll have every reason for coming home if you’re here, Gracie.’

  Thirty-Four

  Charlie and I spend the rest of the evening talking about how we’re going to arrange for Ava and me to move in to Lighthouse Cottage.

  We’ve finished our main course, and now we’re lounging on comfy sofas in the sitting room at the back of the cottage, both of us feeling pretty full after large helpings of apple-and-blackberry pie and custard.

  ‘I’ll have to work some notice,’ I tell Charlie. ‘Problem is, that might overlap with when Ava has to start school.’

  ‘I’ll help you,’ Charlie says, without thinking about it. ‘I’m sure that between us, your mum and I can care for Ava for a few days.’

  ‘That’s very kind, Charlie, but I don’t want to impose on your time. I know how busy you are.’

  ‘That’s one of the perks of being your own boss! You can take time off whenever you want to. I can easily manage a few days off to look after Ava.’

  ‘Oh, Charlie, what would I do without you?’ I say, reaching across the sofa to take his hand. The pair of us sit contentedly watching the flames dance in the little fire Charlie has made up for us. Even though it’s the middle of August, the nights are beginning to feel chilly.

  ‘And what would I do without my Gracie?’ Charlie replies, squeezing my hand as he looks across at me. ‘Do you know, we’ve known each other twenty-six years?’

  I work this out in my own head. ‘So we have. I remember the first time I met you: we had on virtually the same outfit – I was horrified, but you thought it was amusing.’

  ‘Ah, back when I was the ginger kid,’ Charlie says, running his hand through his now much calmer straw-coloured hair, which unlike Danny’s doesn’t appear to have any grey in it yet. ‘That was fun, being called carrot-top, and Duracell.’

  ‘The joys of being young,’ I say, stretching my legs out so the tips of my now bare feet sit that little bit closer to the fire. ‘I think I’d rather be the age I am now than go back and do it all again – especially school.’

  Charlie nods. ‘Apart from meeting you, I can’t think of anything I’d want to go back and do again.’ He thinks for a moment. ‘What about Danny?’ he asks casually, lifting the bottle of wine we’ve been drinking, and topping up our glasses. ‘Wouldn’t you want to meet him again?’

  I think about Danny and our time together at school.

  ‘Danny will always be my first love – I can’t change that. Nor would I want to, I guess. He’s still my friend now, and not many people can say that about their teenage crush.’

  Charlie nods. ‘I heard you’d been seeing him again.’

  ‘Hardly seeing him. We’ve been out together a few times – as friends,’ I emphasise.

  ‘That’s not what Ava thinks.’

  ‘Why, what has she been saying?’

  ‘Ava told me yesterday when you popped into that shop to get ice creams that Danny was your boyfriend.’

  ‘She what?’ I ask, astonished by this. ‘Whatever gave her that idea?’

  Charlie shrugs. ‘You tell me.’

  I’m about to defend myself, when I look at Charlie and suddenly get it. I shake my head. ‘When are you two ever going to grow up?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ he asks.

  ‘This feud between you and Danny? OK, maybe “feud” is a bit strong, but there’s always been a rivalry between the two of you, you can’t deny that.’

  Charlie looks at me with a puzzled expression.

  ‘You’re jealous because I’ve been out with Danny a couple of times, and he’s jealous that I’m spending the weekend with you!’

  ‘He is?’ Charlie can’t hide his pleasure at hearing this.

  ‘Yes! I met him in the supermarket when I was picking up some wine for tonight. He was quite put out I was heading over to see you, and not spending the evening with him.’

  Charlie looks almost smug now.

  I shake my head again. ‘This really has gone on for too long. Why can’t the two of you just get on? I thought you’d moved on from this years ago. When we were at Sandybridge Hall for Danny’s charity ball, the two of you were acting like best mates.’

  ‘I wouldn’t say that,’ Charlie says, lifting his wine. ‘I don’t actually see Danny that often these days. We’re rarely ever in Sandybridge at the same time.’

  ‘And when you are…?’

  Charlie shrugs. ‘We’re fine, I guess. We went for a drink together one night actually.’

  ‘You did?’ I’m surprised to hear this. ‘What did you talk about?’

  Charlie smiles, ‘All sorts. We even talked about you.’

  ‘Me – why?’

  ‘A common interest, perhaps? We both care a lot about you, Gracie.’

  I calm down a little.

  ‘Danny has always had a soft spot for you since you dated, everybody knows that.’

  ‘He does?’ I say, trying to sound surprised, even though Danny has made it pretty obvious.

  ‘Of course.’ Charlie pauses as if he’s considering something. ‘Did you know that you were one of the reasons his marriage broke down?’

  ‘What! That’s not true. Why would you say that?’

  Charlie takes a slow gulp from his glass. ‘Because when we were having a drink together that night in the pub, he told me. We were talking about you, and it just came up. I was pretty shocked too.’

  ‘This is madness! I had nothing to do with Danny and Rebecca breaking up – she had an affair and went off with someone else. Danny told me.’

  ‘That was afterwards. After she realised there was someone else in their marriage.’

  ‘Who, me?’ I can barely believe any of what Charlie is telling me. ‘Are you telling me I turned Rebecca into a lesbian!’

  Charlie has to smile. ‘Hardly. But I think she only began to look elsewhere because she wasn’t getting what she wanted from Danny. You’ve always been the one in Danny’s mind, ever since school. Apparently no one else ever came close.�
�� Charlie takes another long gulp from his glass, this time draining it dry. ‘Pretty high praise, Gracie. We both know Danny’s had his fair share of female attention over the years. More wine?’ he asks calmly, while I sit completely dazed by what I’ve just heard. ‘I could certainly do with some.’

  I can only nod and watch silently as Charlie heads back into the kitchen.

  How could this be? I’d kind of guessed Danny had always had a soft spot for me, as I had for him, but to tell someone it was one of the reasons his marriage broke up was insane.

  And why was Charlie telling me all this now? He must have known for some time. Why had he not said something sooner?

  Charlie returns with a new bottle of wine already uncorked. He pours some into his glass. Mine is still half-full.

  ‘Why didn’t you say something before?’ I ask him immediately.

  ‘I didn’t think it was my place to. Plus you were living in London, I didn’t think it mattered. But now you’re here and dating…’

  ‘We’re not dating!’ I insist again. I lift my wine and take a long gulp.

  ‘Do you want to be?’ he asks.

  ‘No… I mean… yes… oh, I don’t know!’ I drain my glass dry this time, and Charlie leans over and refills it without even asking me.

  I look at him. ‘What do you think I should do?’

  Charlie sits studying me for some time before answering.

  ‘I think you should do whatever makes you happy,’ he says quietly. ‘That’s all anyone can ever ask for. You should be with someone who makes your heart leap with joy every time you see them. Someone who makes you laugh until your belly aches. Someone whose smile lights up your world, and whose mere presence makes you feel utterly alive…’

  His gaze doesn’t veer from my face throughout this little speech, and I in turn am completely mesmerised by his words.

  Even now, when Charlie has clearly finished speaking, we still gaze at each other.