A Light Between Oceans Episode 02
Sandy heard the swish of the post as it dropped through the letter-box.
Glancing at the clock, she hurried to pop a piece of bread into the toaster before going to collect the envelopes from the floor.
Two bills and an invitation to a drinks party from an old acquaintance. He had scrawled Bring your current partner, if you have one, at the bottom.
She winced inwardly. There hadn’t been anyone in her life for a while, since Jeff had decided that she was more committed to the shop than she was to him.
Then she saw a blue airmail envelope.
The original address, Miss Sandy Ashford, Belmouth Lighthouse Cottage, Belmouth, had been scratched out, and Please Forward was printed above her present one.
The return address was Mr L. Brook, 18 Manhattan Court, Park Avenue, New York.
She walked back to the kitchen and took a sharp knife from the drawer, then sat down and carefully slit open the envelope.
Dear Miss Ashford,
I am in the process of making contact with anyone who has had an association with the cottage and lighthouse, as I am keen to learn as much as possible about Belmouth and its history from locals, particularly those who were living in Belmouth during the war.
I understand that the lighthouse is soon to be decommissioned and will be coming up for sale along with the cottage, and I am interested in purchasing them.
I would be grateful if you could please write to confirm that this letter has reached you.
I will be flying to England soon, and will make my way by train to Belmouth.
Please write to me at the Belmouth Imperial Hotel, The Promenade, Belmouth. I look forward to hearing from you.
Yours sincerely, Lucas Brook.
For a long moment Sandy simply stared at the letter, then realised that she was shivering.
She shook her head, putting the letter to one side.
Surely the man must have Belmouth confused with some other lighthouse.
A number of lighthouses up and down the country had been decommissioned, but if such a thing had happened in Belmouth, Hattie would have let her know such dramatic news at once.
Sandy thought of Mr Skellan, the present keeper, who lived with his wife in the cottage where Sandy had grown up, and Jimmy, the assistant keeper, who lived in the annexe.
She shook her head, dismissing the disturbing thoughts.
It would be a costly mistake for this Lucas Brook, whoever he was, flying from New York, then travelling all the way down the coast from London.
The poor man was going to have a dreadful shock when, jet lagged and expectant, he’d arrive in sleepy Belmouth to find that nothing had changed.
She picked up her coffee cup. What a strange morning after that terrible night.
The clock was ticking on, and she still hadn’t had breakfast or started getting ready for work.
Sandy stood up, remembering the toast that had long since popped up and turned cold.
She’d never got over the excitement of living in London and taking up a job that she’d grown to enjoy so much.
Like so many things in her life, it had all been down to Hattie.
When Sandy finished school and had no idea what to do next, Hattie talked one of the guests at her guesthouse into hiring Sandy at the London fabric shop the woman owned.
Hattie, who listened intently to every word a person said, had a way of striking up conversations with her guests that made them feel they’d known her all their lives.
Over the years, the shop had become so busy that Sandy had asked if she could hire an assistant.
The answer came in the form of Libby, the owner’s dizzy young niece, who hadn’t managed to stick at hairdressing, secretarial college or helping out at a nursery school, but said she’d be willing to have a go in the fabric shop.
Tonight, Sandy would phone Hattie and tell her about the letter. After all, they hadn’t talked in ages.