There had been incidents in history of sailors mistaking the one lighthouse for the other and running their ships aground as a result. For more than a century now, Penhale Lighthouse had been painted white, while Bluff Lighthouse had red and white stripes. Penhale Lighthouse shone a yellow light, while Bluff Lighthouse shone a white light. No further confusion had been reported in the intervening decades.
With the Atlantic crashing against the rocks below her, Fay picked up Tabitha’s journal and began to read. It took nearly half an hour before she came upon a passage that interested her.
May 2nd
An odd thing happened today.
I say today, but I don’t know precisely when it occurred. If it was before midnight, it was yesterday. And if it was after midnight, then it was today. I was asleep at any rate. When I woke up this morning, I found that someone had been in my kitchen overnight, making a sandwich.
No. Let me not dissemble, diary. It wasn’t ‘someone’. It must have been me.
There it was, neatly set out on a plate. It was my favorite sandwich too, with marmite and grated cheese spread out on white bread.
There was the knife I used to butter the bread. There was the cheese grater with dried scraps of cheese still clinging to its surface. I hadn’t bothered to put the cheese away, so it had dried out. It was a whole block of mature cheddar cheese, and I was forced to throw it away.
It looks as though I had started to make tea too because my favorite teapot was set out on the worktop with a teabag in it. The kettle was full.
How can I describe my emotions upon finding this, diary?
At first, I was convinced that someone had broken into my house while I slept. I rushed to check the doors and windows, but of course everything was secure. Many people on the island don’t bother to lock their doors at night, but I am not one of them. I don’t feel right sleeping upstairs while the front door is unlocked to the street. Not as a woman alone.
My front door key was on its ring, hanging up on its usual hook in the pantry. I even checked my spare key, which was lying in the top drawer of my dresser just where I left it.
Perhaps I would not be so perturbed if I had ever been one for sleep-walking, dear diary. But I have not – not even as a teenager.
Oh, how I wracked my brain trying to remember this midnight frolic. All I know is that I went to bed hungry last night. I remember wondering if I should make a cup of cocoa to assuage my peckishness, but it was cold, and I couldn’t face getting out of bed. I knew I would quickly fall asleep and then have breakfast in the morning as normal.
It seems my subconscious had other ideas.
Disconcerted - that is the word for how I am feeling today. It is never pleasant to know that you have done something you have no recollection of. And such an irrational thing too.
I do most sincerely hope it doesn’t happen again.
Fay took photographs of the relevant pages and kept on reading.
The next interesting passage appeared a few weeks later. And then again two days after that.
May 10th
It happened again.
No, not the sandwich thing. Apparently, I don’t repeat myself in that way. This time it was internet shopping.
I have had my eye on a certain tray from Ikea for some weeks now. It has a cushion attached to the underside that would rest comfortably on my lap. There are indentations in the tray for one’s glass, mug, and plate. It struck me as just the thing for my solitary evenings of eating off my lap in front of the television. It is a little pricey, however, so I was hesitant.
This afternoon, I finally made up my mind. I went to my computer intending to purchase the tray. Imagine my surprise when I found that I had already bought it!
I checked my internet activity for the past twenty-four hours and saw that I had been online at one o’clock in the morning.
Somehow, I added the tray to my basket and checked out, entering my credit card details. My credit card was back in its place in my purse this afternoon, exactly where it belongs.
Once again, diary, I have been searching my memory for the faintest recollection of doing this. If I concentrate really hard, I can almost convince myself that I dreamed it. Because that’s what it must have been – a dream. I must have been sleep-walking again.
There are no words to describe how unsettling I find this.
May 12th
I took the ferry to the mainland today to consult a doctor in Truro. I could just as well have gone to see one of the Dyers right here on the island, but I don’t want this to be generally known. People say they always keep things confidential, but who knows if that’s true. I don’t trust that flighty receptionist either. I could see her spreading my business all over the village.
I saw a lady doctor in Truro and she was most sympathetic. She says that while my case is unusual, it is by no means unheard of. Some sort of emotional disturbance could have provoked my sleep walking.
She ran all manner of tests on me, including blood tests and a childishly simply quiz that involved telling her my name and address and some simple dates like the start of the Second World War. She made me do some rudimentary mathematical calculations in my head and asked me to say the alphabet backwards.
Afterwards, she said she could find nothing that concerned her.
She did, however, say that if I started doing strange things during the day as well as at night, I should come back to her immediately.
Chapter 9
Fay slept uneasily that night.
She kept dreaming that she was getting up and going to the kitchen and making herself food that she didn’t even want. Then she dreamt that she broke into the Dyer surgery and posed as a doctor. Then she was back in the kitchen again and making endless sandwiches.
Sometime after midnight, her dreams changed to disasters at sea. She was on a ship in Victorian times and the Captain mistook Bluff Lighthouse for Penhale Lighthouse and ran the ship aground. She could see fires raging on board and hear the terrified screams of her fellow passengers.
A siren started up. Wow wow wow. She wished it would stop so she could sleep again.
Fay woke up to the realization that she wasn’t dreaming. She really could hear a siren.
Still half asleep, she stumbled out of bed, thinking it was a fire alarm. Every room in Penrose House was equipped with a smoke detector. It took her a moment to realize that the siren was blaring all over the island.
She ran to her window. In the south she could see the yellow beam of Penhale Lighthouse slicing through the darkness. To the north there was … nothing.
Fay blinked and looked again. Instead of the white beam of the lighthouse, there was a reddish glow out to sea. Her bedroom door burst open, startling her, and Morwen came in, dragging on waterproof gear over her pajamas.
“There’s been an accident at sea. A ship has run into some rocks on the north coast. We’re getting the lifeboats out.”
“What can I do?” asked Fay.
“Your grandmother used to provide food and hot drinks when the lifeboats went out.”
“I can do that. Where must I bring them?”
“To the lifeboat station on the bluff. We’re launching from there.”
“I know the one. You can see it from the lighthouse. You take the Land Rover. I’ll follow in the Volvo with the food when it’s ready.”
Morwen turned to go, but Fay called her back.
“Mor. The lighthouse was dark. Bluff Lighthouse. It wasn’t working. I saw it myself.”
Frowning, Morwen walked to the window. “You must be mistaken. Look, there it goes now. You can see it quite clearly.”
“But …” Fay tailed off. She could see for herself that the lighthouse was working. “It was dark a minute ago.”
“It can’t have been.”
“But I …”
“Sorry, Fay. I must dash.”
By the time Fay looked around again, Morwen was already gone. She had always known in an abstract sort of way tha
t Morwen was a sea-rescue volunteer and part of the lifeboat crew. But she had never seen her in action until today.
Pulling on a robe, Fay left her room, closing the door carefully behind her to keep the kittens in. Most of the guests seemed to have slept through the commotion. Only one door opened as she walked past, and a man looked out, confused.
“What’s going on?”
“It’s an accident at sea. Nothing to worry about. You can go back to bed, Mr. McHabe. The siren will stop as soon as the first lifeboat is launched.”
“Okay,” he said vaguely, and closed the door.
A thought occurred to Fay. She dashed back to her bedroom to fetch one of her grandmother’s handwritten notebooks. Unlike Tabitha Trott, Mrs. Penrose had been a master of clarity.
Fay clattered down the stairs and into the kitchen, switching on the lights as she went. She winced as her pupils constricted against the sudden glare. Then she flicked through the notebook. The page she was looking for was near the back. She remembered noticing it before and thinking that it would probably never be applicable to her.
There it was. Provisions for survivors of fishing accidents, drownings, and calamities at sea.
“Coffee, tea, hot chocolate, milk, sugar. Hot water urns. Yes … yes … But what must I give them to eat? Ah, here it is. Kendal mint cake. What on earth is that? Bars of chocolate. We have plenty of those. Cookies, biscuits, fudge, and any baked goods.”
Relief flooded through Fay as she thought of her well-stocked pantry. She could do this. This was her first sea-rescue crisis and she would not let the island down.
All the tea and coffee paraphernalia were already set out on a tray ready for the next day’s teatime. She would boil the urn and transfer everything into a crate for transport. The water would stay hot for several hours.
In a separate box, she loaded tins of cookies, candy bars, and other baked goods. On the very top shelf of the pantry, she even found a box of the mysterious Kendal mint cake. It seemed to be slabs of peppermint and chocolate confectionary that the English used for energy when hiking or mountaineering. That went into the box too.
Fay was about to rush out into the night when she realized she was still wearing her robe. She took it off and pulled on one of the overcoats hanging on the coat rack instead. It was as she was loading the trunk of the car that she realized the siren had stopped. The first lifeboat must have launched successfully.
The old Volvo Fay had inherited from her grandmother started with a cough and a noisy backfire. Fay slammed it into reverse and backed out of the garage, only to hit the brakes hard when she saw Pen standing behind her waving his arms like a semaphore. She rolled down her window.
“What’s up? I’m in a rush.”
“I’m coming with you. They won’t have me on the lifeboats anymore. Not since I turned sixty, they won’t. Even though I’m fitter than the lot of them. But I can help with provisions.”
“Hop in then.”
Pen climbed in next to her and held on tight as the Volvo lurched down the driveway.
The car cut out twice on the way to the lifeboat station but made it there with all the provisions in one piece and just a little water spilled from the urn.
Fay could only be grateful that there was a proper asphalted road all the way to the station. The Volvo could never have coped with the off-road route that led to the lighthouse. She kept sneaking glances at the lighthouse as she drove, as though to check that it was still functioning.
Had she been dreaming when she had seen only darkness in that direction? She supposed she must have been. Lighthouses didn’t flicker on and off. She was clearly losing her marbles, just like poor Tabitha Trott.
“We made good time,” said Pen as they pulled up at the station. “The first lifeboat is returning with a load of survivors. Let’s carry everything into the boathouse. There are blankets and first-aid kits in here.”
As she and Pen carried the boxes out of the trunk of the car, Fay could see that the reddish glow she had spotted from her bedroom window was a fire on board the stricken vessel. The realization that there were human lives on board awaiting rescue hastened her footsteps.
“Looks like a small freighter to me.” Pen shielded his eyes against the running lights of the oncoming lifeboat and looked out to sea. “At least it wasn’t a passenger boat. We only have two lifeboats at this station and they’ve both gone out. We would have been in trouble if it had been one of them big cruise ships with hundreds of people on board. Mind you, they travel in much deeper waters, so that’s not likely.”
Fay focused on getting her urn plugged in and opening the paper cups she had brought. Sweet tea was a good remedy for shock, but she had coffee and hot chocolate ready too. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the lifeboat dock at the little pier and people beginning to come ashore. Some of the survivors stumbled onto land on their own, while others were stretchered off the boat.
Within minutes, the boathouse was full of people and noise and urgency. Some of the crew members of the freighter received urgent medical attention while others sat around looking stunned. Fay noticed David and Doc Dyer slip in through a side door with their medical bags. They took over from the first aiders in seeing to the more seriously injured crew members.
Fay had her hands full dispensing hot drinks as fast as she could make them. Pen quickly excused himself from the coffee station and went to help the first aiders. At sixty he might have been too old for lifeboat duty, but his experience in first aid was invaluable.
The church clock could be heard chiming two o’clock in the distance. The second lifeboat had docked, thankfully with fewer rescued crew members than the first. It also brought some familiar faces. Morwen was there helping an injured crew member limp to one of the benches. And there were Raymond and Pippa Garver from the amateur dramatic society. They had got married at the registry office in Truro just a few weeks earlier.
“Fay, cara!” Another familiar voice made her look up. “You here?”
“Hi, Vito. Would you like some coffee? I didn’t know you were a lifeboat volunteer.”
“Sì, sì! Luigi and I, we have done this for many years.”
“You came in on the second lifeboat, didn’t you? Can you tell me what happened? I’ve heard nothing but conflicting rumors all night.”
“We got everyone off alive, thanks be to the Blessed Mother.” He crossed himself. “It is a small freighter out of Dublin called the Sinead carrying a load of Irish linen to Falmouth. They ran onto rocks at one o’clock this morning and immediately started taking on water. A fire broke out on the boiler deck almost as soon as the distress signal went out. A few of the crew have burn wounds. It’s a mercy that we got everyone off.”
Fay handed Vito his coffee and they both turned to look at the Sinead that was still burning steadily out to sea.
“When that fire reaches the fuel tanks there’ll be an explosion,” warned a voice.
Fay turned to see David decanting boiling water from the urn into a clear plastic bottle. “Evening, Fay. Evening, Vito. I need some boiled water. Hope you don’t mind.”
“Help yourself. There’s lots more where that came from.”
“Buonasera, Davide. I trust the passengers will all recover.”
“There are some nasty burns, but nothing life-threatening.”
“Would you like some coffee?” asked Fay.
“Perhaps later.” He gave her a smile and went back to his patient.
Vito put down his empty cup. “I must get back too. I will relieve Luigi so he can have some coffee. It is going to be a long night.”
Vito’s words were prophetic.
It was five in the morning before the last people left the boathouse and Fay and Pen could pack their possessions back into the car. Some of the crew members had been taken to the surgery, while others were awaiting transport to the mainland on the first ferry. Those who were uninjured or stable were being put up at the Royal Hotel until they could be transported bac
k to Ireland.
Doc Dyer had gone with the patients to the surgery, while his son remained behind to clear up their equipment.
“How could this have happened?” asked Fay. “I thought accidents involving commercial ships were rare these days.”
“I treated the captain.” David zipped up his medical bag. “He swears he didn’t see the lighthouse. He says they were looking out for it so they would know when to turn to starboard, but didn’t see it. I suppose the truth is that he fell asleep or something similar.”
“Not necessarily,” said Fay. “Because I didn’t see it either.”
Chapter 10
David gave her a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”
“When the siren went off, I jumped out of bed and rushed to the window. I can see the whole stretch of the east coast from my room. There’s Bluff Lighthouse to the north and Penhale Lighthouse to the south. I’m used to seeing those two lights. They punctuate the darkness. I suppose they help to orient me, especially at night. I noticed that Penhale Lighthouse was functioning as normal. You can’t mistake that yellow light. But to the north there was nothing – just blackness. I blinked and looked again because I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, or what I was not seeing. Then I noticed a strange orange glow out to sea and couldn’t make sense of that either. I now know that I was looking at the fire on board the Sinead.”
“Strange.”
“It gets stranger. Morwen came into my room and I told her that the lighthouse wasn’t working. She went to the window and showed me that it was. My immediate thought was that I imagined it. I had just woken up, after all. Then when you said that the Captain hadn’t seen the light either, I remembered what I saw.”
“How sure are you of this?” David was frowning, his eyebrows a diagonal slash across his face and his eyes boring into her with every appearance of hostility. But Fay knew that this was just his concentrating face.
The Cat That Wasn't There Page 6