I suppose I ought to unpack, she thought to herself after a while. She returned to the kitchen and grabbed the case, wheeling it along to the bedroom, where she unzipped it.
‘What the . . . ?’ she asked nobody. ‘Oh bugger! Don’t tell me I’ve picked up the wrong case? All my stuff! My glasses, my contact lenses . . . I’m going to be blind. Unless . . .’ Feeling a bit cheeky, she unzipped a washbag and found inside a packet of daily contact lenses in a prescription that wasn’t far off her own. She laughed. Fortunately for the case’s owner, she had several packs of lenses in her own bag. That was something, anyway, but it was clear the similarities between Summer and the other person ended there. These were the clothes of a very young man – a proper hipster. Someone very cool. She checked out the heavy books on brain tumours. A trainee doctor, maybe? Unless. She put a hand to her mouth. What if the man had a brain tumour himself? How awful! And now she’d inadvertently stolen his case.
Not too sure what to do next, she did what she always did in times of indecision. She called Tilly.
‘Summer! I’ve been itching to speak to you. How is it? What’s the cottage like? Is it as you remembered?’
‘Yes and no . . . The location is just as beautiful but the cottage has been updated and it’s sublime. You’d love it! But look, something’s happened. You know I’ve got one of those generic grey suitcases? Well, I picked up the wrong one from the carousel at the airport. I’ve brought someone else’s back to Sylvie’s with me. And they must have taken mine.’
‘Summer, why on earth didn’t you put a distinctive coloured ribbon on it or something?’
‘I just didn’t think!’
‘Honestly, you’re priceless. Mind you, clearly this other traveller made the same mistake.’
‘And now I have to try to find them. What would you do?’
‘Well, I suppose the obvious place to start would be to call the airport. I should think the other person’s already phoned and left their details. They’re bound to be able to put you in contact with each other.’
‘Oh Tilly, why didn’t I think of that? Of course, that makes perfect sense.’
‘I hope you get it sorted. Oh bother, there’s someone at the door. I was longing for a good chat, too. There’s something I needed to talk to you about. And, of course, I’m dying to know how you’re getting on. Will you text me to let me know what happens about the case? And I’ll call in the next couple of days . . .’
‘Will do. Thanks, Tilly. Lots of love.’
Summer disconnected the call, wondering what Tilly had wanted to mention, but she soon became sidetracked by searching for the number for the airport.
‘I wonder if you can help,’ she began after calling it up. ‘I accidentally took someone else’s suitcase on Sunday afternoon. I’m afraid I’ve only just found out – I didn’t unpack immediately. I’m guessing they’ll have been in touch? They must have mine, you see,’ Summer explained.
‘Let me just check,’ said the efficient voice at the other end. A pause and a little tinny music for a few moments. ‘I’m sorry. No one’s called in. But if you give me your details I’ll contact you as soon as anyone rings about it.’
Summer gave her details then hung up. She didn’t really want to have to stay in the clothes she was wearing indefinitely. I’ll have a bath, she thought to herself. Then I’ll take a bus into St Helier and buy a few bits and pieces to tide me over. The goon who’s got my case is probably as lazy as me about unpacking. He’ll soon realise and then he’s bound to call the airport.
Summer pottered through to the bathroom – truly the loveliest she’d ever come across, with cream mosaic tiles, heated rails bearing enormous fluffy white towels, a state-of-the-art rainforest shower and a luxuriously deep spa bath. It was only as she turned on the taps and poured in some bubble bath that she realised it hadn’t actually occurred to her to phone the airport. It had been Tilly’s idea. She could only hope that this chap – hipster doctor, patient, whoever he was – was slightly more sensible than she was.
After the bath, Summer realised she didn’t have a hairdryer. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d let her hair dry naturally – a smooth hairstyle had been part of her attempt to look the part of headmaster’s wife – but she had no choice, and when she caught sight of herself in a shop mirror later in the day she realised it wasn’t so bad. Wavy. It kind of suited her. And how much easier. She decided then and there to leave her hairdryer firmly in the case once she’d finally retrieved it.
By the end of the day Summer had at least acquired a few wardrobe essentials and toiletries to tide her over. She called the airport again but no luck. In the end she decided to crack open the champagne. She rooted around in the fridge and found some vegetables and made a simple stir-fry. She ate her meal out on the terrace but the sea breeze was cool so she soon returned inside, where she ensconced herself on the sofa and happily read her latest novel, enjoying the peace. By ten she could feel her eyes getting heavy and she didn’t want to fall asleep with her lenses in again so she got ready for bed and dived into it. As she lay back, she thought about the inconvenience of the lost luggage and what a state Seth would have got into about it. An airline had once lost their suitcases on a holiday to Spain and he’d been out of his mind with anxiety. She felt a little bad for thinking it, but she had to admit how much easier it was to deal with such setbacks without Seth and his simmering rage. He wouldn’t have been able to sleep until the case had been returned. Summer, on the other hand, turned on to her side and fell almost instantly into a deep and satisfied slumber.
She woke early the next day – Tuesday – and, after using the bathroom, went through to the living room and flicked on the TV. She went and made herself a cup of tea, then returned and perched on the sofa arm as she cradled the mug. She channel-hopped, eventually settling on a local news programme. About time she took notice of what was going on in the world – even just the confines of this small island.
‘And finally,’ the newswoman said with a grin, ‘the story of a missing suitcase! Local man Jude De Carteret accidentally picked up a bag belonging to someone else after a journey from Gatwick to Jersey last Sunday afternoon. He’s assuming a fellow traveller must have made the same mistake and taken his case home. Jude is keen to locate the person, who’s believed to be a young woman who wears contact lenses and may have a couple of small children. If you know who the mystery lady might be, please do contact us on the number or email coming up just now on the screen . . . Good luck, Jude . . .’
Summer dived for a pen and piece of paper and scribbled down the details for Channel TV.
‘Excellent!’ she said to herself. Within half an hour she’d tracked the man down, though he clearly wasn’t in a hurry about swapping cases, despite his TV appeal.
I’m working all week so is it okay if we meet on Saturday? he asked by text.
Summer hesitated but decided she could manage a little longer. Sure, that’s fine. Shall I tell you where to find me?
I’ll text you Sat morning. You can tell me then. Glad I tracked you down, his text read.
Me too!!! Summer replied. She sat and pondered for a moment what the young hipster might look like. She decided he’d be sporting a full beard (they all did these days) and would be short, stocky and dark-haired. In any event, all would be revealed soon enough.
Chapter Thirteen
JUDE’S BUCKET LIST:
1. DON’T DIE ALONE.
As it turned out, Jude was quite right to have been nervous about bubbles and nibbles. It was possibly the most squirm-inducing experience of his life. The main issue was the inquisitiveness. Everyone wanted to know why he was leaving so suddenly.
‘How’d you get out of this place then?’ asked Bradley, one of the client managers, as he delved into the crisps. Having witnessed the guy fail to wash his hands after using the urinals ten minutes before, Jude made a mental note not to bother with the nibbles.
‘Just fancied a change,’ Jude replied,
using the stock response he’d devised. ‘Might do a bit of travelling.’
‘Travelling, huh? Bet you’re after a bit of totty, aren’t you? Not many decent fillies in Jersey these days. All the hotties have been snapped up by the time we get to our age! Mind you, Suki’s a bit of all right. Thought you might have been in there . . .’
At this point Helena plodded over, interrupting Bradley. Jude had never been so glad to see her.
‘Was it constructive dismissal?’ she asked eagerly, looking interested in a pained kind of way. ‘I know an employment lawyer if you need one. I know what this place is like . . .’
Helena and her conspiracy theories. Jude took another gulp of warm cava. He could feel a headache coming on. He checked his watch. It was only quarter to six. He’d be expected to stay until at least six thirty and there was always the danger of somebody suggesting they ‘go on’ for drinks at the Dolphin, or even dinner. He wondered about inventing another arrangement but then, realising it was the last time he’d ever see any of these people – a couple of whom he loathed, true, but most he was extremely fond of – he knew he should just suck it up, embrace it. This was the first, it occurred to him, of many last times.
Helena was in the middle of a long complaint about her least favourite client when Peggy tapped on her glass with a pen.
‘If I could have a moment, please!’ she called, and Jude realised that, horror of all horrors, she was going to give a speech. ‘I just wanted to say a few words about Jude before he leaves us. I know we’ll all miss him – he’s just one of those sorts who’s nice to have around. But what you probably don’t know is that Jude very nearly wasn’t given the job when he came for interview four years ago!’ There was a little burst of laughter around the room and Jude felt Bradley nudging him.
‘He was hopeless,’ Peggy continued, and Jude had to smile at her bluntness. ‘He hadn’t carried out any research about the company and he was completely unconvincing when I asked him what aspects of banking appealed to him, and he said he was looking forward to “dealing with client complaints with a smile”.’ More laughter.
‘But then I asked him why he wanted to switch jobs from teaching to banking,’ she said, her tone suddenly more serious. ‘And I hope you don’t mind me revealing this, Jude, but he told me about a traumatic incident that had happened at the school where he’d worked. He was stabbed by one of his students.’ There was a collective gasp around the room and Jude felt his cheeks burning, his heart – even now – hammering as he was reminded of that awful experience from his past.
‘Jude was left physically and mentally scarred by that harrowing event and yet he gave himself very little time before looking for a new job. I saw then how brave he was and what an asset he’d be to the company. I also wanted to give him a chance because someone very special to me was stabbed a decade ago and, unlike Jude, he didn’t make a recovery.’ There was silence in the room now, everyone clearly shocked by this uncharacteristic revelation.
‘Anyway,’ Peggy said, looking directly at Jude, ‘I’m glad I gave you that chance. You’ve been perfectly good at the job but, I have to say, I don’t think the bank is your natural habitat. I hope, now, you’ll live a life that suits you better,’ she added, raising her glass. ‘To your good health!’ Everyone raised their glasses and then put them down so they could applaud Peggy’s rather moving speech.
‘Oh, one more thing!’ Peggy piped up. ‘I have a card and present for you here, Jude, from all the staff at the bank. If you’d like to come and receive them . . .’
Jude went up to Peggy to collect the card and gift, thinking back to the time – not very long ago at all – when he’d wished he might be on the receiving end of one of the greetings cards dished out at work. How ironic that he should be receiving one so soon and under such difficult circumstances. It just went to show you should be careful what you wished for.
All eyes on him, he opened up the card, but found the writing blurring as he read the kind comments, his eyes unexpectedly prickling with tears. He blinked them away and then opened his gift – laughing when he saw it was a year’s subscription to Netflix. Suddenly Jude found himself surrounded by his colleagues, patting him on the back and wishing him luck. In the end, he found himself very happily following them all across the road to the Dolphin.
The following day – Saturday – he woke up with a hangover. He thought of the evening before and smiled to himself ruefully as he remembered Helena drunkenly attempting to kiss him at the end of the night. He’d made his excuses kindly to the poor woman – although he didn’t want to die alone, he was also fairly sure he didn’t want Helena by his side, bringing him down in his last moments. But he hoped she wasn’t waking up feeling too mortified at the memory.
All he felt like doing was lazing around the flat for the morning but he didn’t have time to hang about. He’d promised to meet up with the mystery woman who had his suitcase and he needed to check where she was staying.
Hi, he texted. Jude here – lost suitcase man. Are you still okay to swap bags today? Where do you live?
Hi Jude! I’m on an extended holiday, staying in Petit Port. Do you know it?
Of course – near the lighthouse at Corbière.
That’s right. I can meet you there if that’s easier for you? It’s only a short walk.
A landmark – probably for the best. Great. Is eleven okay?
Perfect!! See you then. I’m small with dark hair and a large suitcase, LOL!!
LOL? And two exclamation marks. As he’d thought, she must be a teenager. In her favour, she’d at least refrained from using any emoji.
Jude arrived bang on eleven and found a space in the car park with its view overlooking the lighthouse and the turbulent sea. It was a fine day, but gusty, and the wind was blowing onshore, stirring up the water and creating messy waves. He scanned the area, but aside from an old couple in anoraks there was nobody in sight. He switched on the radio and prepared himself for a long wait, but moments later he spotted a slightly built female with dark wavy hair wheeling his large suitcase across the tarmac. He immediately hopped out of the car and heaved her bag out of his boot.
‘Summer?’ he asked, approaching her.
‘Jude!’ she smiled. He found himself frozen to the spot, unable to respond.
Summer wasn’t a teenager. She was a woman. Possibly even a little older than him, given the crow’s feet around her vivid blue eyes. He’d never realised that wrinkles could be so sexy. She had a tiny, sun-kissed nose, a pixie face that reminded him of Sandra Bullock (Jude’s ultimate pin-up), and she was miniature, though he was soon to find out that her laugh was enormous – an irresistibly dirty giggle. She was beautiful.
Jude desperately tried to think of something to say. His mouth felt dry, his heart was hammering, and yet he also felt hopeful that perhaps fate had brought him and Summer together for a reason. Then he noticed it, as she fiddled with a pendant on a long chain around her neck. A wedding ring.
‘Here’s your case,’ he said, stating the obvious.
‘And here’s yours!’ Summer laughed. ‘What a fiasco! I hope you don’t mind but I used some of your contacts. I couldn’t believe we’re almost the same prescription!’
‘Er . . . Oh, not at all. I’d have done the same but I had another pack at home.’
A pause. ‘Well . . .’ Summer said, and they stood there, gazing at each other, the wind whipping around their ears. ‘So, I guess I’d better head back.’
‘I’ll give you a lift,’ Jude said, hoping not to sound desperate but unable to part with her just yet, even though it was clear he’d never see her again after today. ‘I can fit both the cases in the boot. Save you dragging it along the road.’
‘Oh, would you? That would be fab, thank you!’
Jude heaved both cases into the car and was about to get into the driver’s seat when Summer’s words stopped him. ‘Have you ever been out there? To the lighthouse?’ she asked.
‘Never,’ he replied
.
‘That’s terrible!’ Summer teased. ‘You’re an islander, right?’
‘We’re the worst. Tourists always leave the place knowing it better than the locals.’
‘Come on, then. We can explore together!’
Jude couldn’t believe Summer was prolonging their moment together, but he wasn’t going to give her a chance to have second thoughts. He smiled. ‘Okay.’ He was about to lock the car when he remembered he’d brought a flask of coffee and some biscuits with him, a hasty hangover cure he’d packed at the last minute before leaving his flat. He was aware of Summer watching as he shoved it all into his backpack, then he hauled the bag on to his shoulder and turned to face her, in some strange way feeling more relaxed now that he knew she was married and that clearly nothing was ever going to happen between them.
‘Let’s go!’
They left the car and took a steep path down towards the rocks below, clocking the various German bunkers left over from the Second World War and the Nazi occupation. Then, on reaching the bottom of the hill, they took the path that ran between the rocks towards the lighthouse. They didn’t chat as they walked but, surprisingly, the silence wasn’t awkward.
When they finally reached the lighthouse, white and solid, Summer sat down on a bench. She was the first to speak.
Christmas by the Lighthouse Page 7
