A Light Between Oceans Episode 05
The bus wound through the countryside, the patchwork of farms opening out under a perfect blue sky.
Sandy watched as the pale line of the sea on the horizon widened, then at last the bus bumped over the brow of the hill and there was Belmouth.
The lighthouse stood gleaming in the sunshine, steadfast as ever, and tucked beneath it was the white cottage that had been her home.
Sandy felt a familiar quiver in her stomach, knowing she could very quickly begin to lose the confidence she’d gained from living in London.
It happened every time she visited – that strange combination of comfort and unease.
Belmouth and the lighthouse had always been there, steeped in memories and waiting for her, but along with this came her childhood insecurities and fears.
The bus pulled in, and Hattie was waiting in her fisherman’s smock and jeans, her round face framed with wiry grey curls.
Then Sandy was off the bus and enfolded in her arms.
“Oh, Hattie! You were so good to come and meet me!”
“As if I wouldn’t! Now, just look at you.
“My goodness, you are thin. I’ll soon see to that.”
“I confess I’ve been thinking about your chowder ever since we spoke!” Sandy grinned.
Hattie took Sandy’s suitcase and tossed it into the back of her battered old car, and they were off, puttering their way along the crooked streets.
When, as a young woman, Hattie had inherited the little cottage she’d grown up in, she’d decided to turn it into a guesthouse.
She’d always been a wonderful cook and loved people, so it had seemed the obvious thing to do.
She had used some of the family savings to have a local builder add a small annexe for her to live in.
It had taken up the garden space, but there was still room for a small courtyard, which Hattie had furnished with outdoor tables, a mismatched collection of chairs and as many pots of flowers as she could cram into the area.
The whole place was a little haphazard, fairly cramped, but spotlessly clean and utterly enchanting.
The guests, who now had to book many months in advance, had always fallen in love with its magic at once.
“How’s the shop?” Hattie asked. “I hope you’re not going to be worried. You do need a break.”
“Fortunately that stock arrived early, so there was time to get it all unpacked,” Sandy explained.
They pulled up in front of Hattie’s and Sandy sighed enviously.
“Look at all your flowers! If only I could make the shop look like this.”
“The sun has brought everything on in time for your arrival.
“Now, let’s go in – you must be starving.”
Inside, the sweet scent of hyacinths mingled with beeswax polish and the famous fish chowder.
Sandy let herself drink in the simple comfort of it all.
She and Hattie had so much to talk about: the lighthouse, Lucas Brook, and what the future might bring.
“Get yourself settled, then come and sit down when you’re ready.”
“It feels so good to be here,” Sandy admitted.
“I’ve been feeling so confused. I’m nervous about meeting Lucas Brook.”
“I’ll sort him out,” Hattie replied, adopting a wry, no-nonsense tone.
Sandy could see concern in Hattie’s face, but she tried not to think about it, so as not to spoil the special moment.
She loved walking into the tiny room where she’d slept whenever she’d come to stay, with the wooden bed and its faded quilt, and the narrow bookshelf with her old favourites and the photo of Dad.
The window was open slightly to let the cool spring air waft in, and in the distance she heard the faint rolling of the waves.
Here at Hattie’s, a short distance from the beach, the sound was pleasant, rather than ominous.
As night fell, Sandy always loved seeing the reassuring flashes of the lighthouse from her window – its pattern of one, two, three flashes. One, two, three . . .