The Secrets of Black Dean Lighthouse

by Jack Dey

  Becky ran her eyes over the three remaining names, realising they’d captured all the information they could and suddenly felt the need to be with Brett. “I think I’ve had enough for one lifetime, Smiley,” she admitted, deflated. “I am really missing Brett. I think I want to go home.”

  *~*~*~*

  Chapter 32

  Desapo pulled on the chain of his pocket watch, released it from his jacket pocket and flipped the open the cover, checking the time. The same torturous train he had arrived on a little over a week ago, would deliver Neddy into his presence in less than an hour. However, Desapo knew Neddy’s dislike of trains was equal to his and although he was usually a happy charismatic redhead full of playfulness, his bad temper could show its ugly head given the right circumstances. Desapo grinned mischievously and figured a three-day train ride across the continent was exactly the right circumstances. The thought had crossed his mind to put Neddy up in the Lightning Strike Hotel, but he decided his playful brother would be unappreciative of his dark humour after such an arduous journey, with Neddy on a permanent payback and because it was Desapo’s project and not Neddy’s, Desapo would suffer.

  Desapo grinned widely, imagining his brother's proposed joy at playing a part, but he still had to prime Neddy on his intended deception and convince him to be Mr Edward Parduck, owner and boss of Parduck Stone Masonry. Otherwise, Desapo would lose the joy of interplay with the black haired beauty and the ladies' benefactor would be unscrupulously exposed, changing the game and perhaps losing contact with the childish but extremely attractive Katie. However, while they were not in the company of the two ladies, Desapo would again assume the role of boss of his own business. With the ruse growing bigger, Desapo had conscripted every one of his employees and suppliers in his elaborate hoax, and had insisted that when they heard from Mr Edward Parduck or anyone representing him, they were to respond as if the company was a working enterprise and Neddy was the boss. Until Desapo himself called an end to the deception.

  Gustav had already been enlisted into the charade and was conducting his part like a well versed thespian. Pike had volunteered to join the deception after Gustav had explained the hoax in a good natured conversation with his friend and it seemed everyone was keen for the ladies to retain some social standing and not be cast out into an unknown fate.

  Especially if Desapo was seen as the villain.

  A steam whistle broke into the hotel’s quiet surrounds, prompting Desapo to quickly descend the stairs from his room, nodding to Gustav on the way out and joining Pike in his Cadillac already waiting at the front of the hotel. The short journey to the train station took only a minute or two.

  Neddy’s tall solid frame could be seen walking among the steam covered platform like some type of gothic apocalyptic nightmare, eager to be rid of his mobile prison. Desapo waved to gain his attention and as expected... Neddy wasn’t happy!

  When Desapo enfolded his older brother in a good natured hug, Neddy grunted. “This is gonna cost you big time, cranky,” Neddy warned, returning his brother’s bear-like hug.

  “Mr Pike, I have the pleasure in introducing Mr Edward Parduck, esquire.”

  Pike held out his hand in greeting and Neddy obliged him with a perplexed response. Neddy’s tired gaze told Desapo that he wasn’t connecting with Desapo’s line of thought and his humour was nowhere to be found. “Have you succumbed to too much stone dust, Desapo?” Neddy barked. “And who is this?” Neddy pointed to Pike.

  By the time Desapo explained Pike, the job, his elaborate hoax and Neddy’s role, they had arrived at the hotel with Neddy’s luggage.

  “Good morning, Mr Parduck,” Gustav was in character.

  Neddy stared at Gustav. “My name is not Parduck!”

  Neddy’s luggage was taken straight to a comfortable suite befitting a man of high importance. But Neddy wasn’t buying into Desapo’s deception.

  “Come on, Neddy. What about if I increase your cut of the job?” Desapo pleaded.

  “I’ll think about it,” Neddy was enjoying a rare moment of having Desapo on the back foot. “But for now, I need to have a sleep. Three days on that confounded train is enough to turn anyone sour,” Neddy groaned.

  “Well, have a good sleep, brother. You are to meet your two newest employees at dinner,” Desapo called after him, now unsure whether Neddy would come onboard with his hoax. He was usually up for a round of good natured skulduggery, especially one with such a good cause.

  *~*~*~*

  Desapo took a seat at his usual dinner table and waited to see what would happen and whether Neddy would play his part. Soon the ladies arrived and took a seat at a table next to Desapo.

  “Good evening, ladies,” Desapo greeted.

  “Good evening, sir,” Tess responded nervously and Katie nodded. The two ladies scanned the diner anxiously, but their new boss hadn’t arrived yet.

  Desapo saw the tense searching and asked, ”Are you looking for someone?”

  Katie’s expression was flat. “We are waiting for the arrival of the gentleman who is to be our new employer, sir.”

  “Oh, I see,” Desapo smiled, unsure whether the hoax was about to be derailed.

  Minutes later, Gustav entered the diner as if he was guiding the King of England. “This way, sir,” Gustav repeated his lines flawlessly.

  Neddy followed, somewhat expressionless. He caught Desapo’s eye and then the beauty of a lady's countenance stopped him smitten in his tracks. Neddy reached for the lady's hand and kissed it, obviously besotted.

  Gustav began, “Ladies, may I introduce...”

  Neddy jumped in and interrupted Gustav. “My name is Edward Parduck, owner of Parduck Stone Masonry,” Neddy played it beautifully, bowing to the women while still holding Tess’ hand.

  Desapo quietly blew out his breath, relieved Neddy had fallen for the bait and was now on board.

  The three people chattered like long lost friends and as Desapo observed Tess keenly watching Neddy and hanging on his every word, the black haired beauty appeared somewhat aloof.

  “So, Mr Parduck, what will be our duties, sir?” Katrina asked.

  “Duties?” Neddy glanced across at Desapo.

  “Yes, sir. What is it you wish us to do in your substantial project?” Katrina asked again.

  “Well... I thought you and Tess could be our procurement officers,” Neddy peered over at his brother with a questioning gaze. Desapo hadn’t explained this.

  Desapo choked and began coughing loudly until a waiter gently patted his back, but Katrina’s attention to the disturbance was one of disinterest at Desapo’s plight, willing him to make less of a scene. Once Desapo settled from his shock, he glanced across at Neddy and made a knife and fork motion with his hands.

  “Oh, of course, we will need cooks to take care of the lunchtime meal for the workers onboard the work platform.”

  Desapo gave Neddy a smile and a nod.

  “Cooks...?!” Katrina started.

  “We can do that, Mr Parduck, and in fact, we can do both,” Tess shot Katrina a pleading glance, hoping to impress Mr Parduck and convince him of their competence.

  “O..of..course... we can do both,” Katrina responded, giving Tess a worried look.

  Neddy wanted to cement his growing admiration for Tess and assured, “We will raise your wages to reflect the two jobs you have undertaken.”

  Desapo ran his hands through his hair and sighed loudly from his position at his table. Katrina shot him an annoyed glance at his lack of manners, but Neddy had that look he gets when he is on a payback and Desapo knew he would pay heavily for Neddy’s part in Desapo’s deception.

  *~*~*~*

  Chapter 33

  Torn and heavily stained drapes made an effort to keep the winter sun and prying eyes out of the small suburban house, allowing access only where broken bottles had ripped the fabric or an explosive temper tantrum had dislodged the track, tearing the screws from the wall. The windows had seized shut under the winter chill, rare
ly opened and if they were, the glass was forced back against a frozen track, only to deliver a disdainful message to unfortunate passersby whose only crime was to resemble a foreign immigrant. Dirty dishes filled the sink and empty beer bottles lay where they were thrown, striking the wall or smashed against furniture and turned to piles of broken glass scattered across the dirty carpet. An intensely unhealthy odour permeated and hung on every surface while the figure of a man lay prostrate on the floor, unconscious from yet another drinking frenzy trying to drown out the memories that buzzed around his head and maliciously tormented his conscious mind.

  The job he’d held for so many years was gone. After repeated warnings, the boss had dismissed him for lack of attendance which happened to coincide with the death of his wife. Now he relied on welfare, with every spare cent he possessed spent on anesthetising his mind against the memories when he was awake and the nightmares when he slept. Stirring from the latest drunken stupor and coming around, the figure unwittingly entered into the world of the conscious, but his mind wouldn’t have a chance to progress into a hangover, topping up from a constant supply and resuming an inebriated state.

  In the semi-darkened room, a small flashing red light caught his attention, drawing him to his staggering feet and after a few confused seconds, he recognised the phone answering machine had a saved message to explore. Leaning heavily on the table, he fumbled with the buttons trying to get the machine to play and after a frustrating struggle, a voice filled the quiet.

  "Mr Dillon, this is Police Constable John Roy. Just a courtesy call, sir, regarding your missing daughter. After three months of investigation, there’s still no information on her whereabouts. I was just wondering, perhaps she may have come back home and you have forgotten to let us know. If you would return my call so we can touch base, it would be appreciated. I am available until 5 pm.”

  It took a few moments for the man to comprehend the message, but rage seemed to have an undisturbed direct connection to his brain and the pieces fell together unhindered. "That’ss right. Marguerlite has run away," he stammered and then turned unsteadily to face the staircase. “Marguerite! You glet your l..lazy bones down here now, girl! Don’t make ame..me come up there or therel..l be trouble.”

  However, the house remained quiet, dark and unresponsive.

  Stumbling up the stairs, tripping and wheezing, he eventually made it to the door of his daughter’s room, but the door had been reefed from its hinges and the inside looked like a bomb had gone off. Confusion gripped his mind and he stared at the destruction in disbelief, wondering who’d broken into his house and turned his daughter’s bedroom into a pile of rubble. Turning to leave and determined to call the police to report the crime, he tripped, falling heavily onto the floor and tumbled down the stairs until the wildly spinning darkness consumed his mind... enchained... somewhere at the bottom of a black pit.

  *~*~*~*

  After a busy day serving customers at the bakery, the frantic activity had worn her out, with Marguerite making her intentions known to prepare for bed early tonight. Katarzyna was still doing her homework downstairs, while Marguerite stood by the bedroom mirror and ran her hands over her abdomen with the loose fitting nightgown taking the shape of her expanding stomach.

  A sudden voice at the door startled her and she jumped, fearing she’d been discovered, immediately releasing the nightgown’s fabric.

  “How far are you along?”

  Shocked into silence, Marguerite could only stare at Ima’s figure, fearing the ramifications of her secret, now in plain view. Stammering, she tried to explain. “Uh..u..three months.”

  “I suspected something when I hugged you the other day,” Ima spoke gently.

  Marguerite dropped to her bed, buried her head in her hands and began to weep. “Are you going to throw me out now?” she mumbled through her tears.

  “Do you think that’s what we should do, Marguerite?” Ima prodded.

  Marguerite nodded vehemently, preparing herself and expecting Ima to order her out of her home, but Ima walked over to where Marguerite was sitting and gently sat down next to her.

  “Do you think the Jesus you’ve heard about from us, would throw a precious child out on the street? I could no sooner do that, Marguerite, than cut off my own hand.”

  Marguerite met Ima’s kind gaze with a watery expression while Ima folded Marguerite in her motherly arms. “You are like one of my own children, Marguerite.”

  Marguerite leaned affectionately into Ima’s embrace and sobbed, prepared to expose the whole sordid tragedy. “I was tricked into it, Ima. I thought the boy loved me and would marry me. Instead, he took my innocence and when I became pregnant, he beat me and told me to get rid of it. I was so afraid of my father also and what he would do, so I ran away from home. I couldn’t kill my baby, Ima!” Marguerite broke, crying bitterly in Ima’s arms.

  “Sssh, little one,” Ima quieted Marguerite’s troubled heart and stroked her hair with the palm of her hand. “I figured something like this had happened when I saw the black eye,” Ima explained quietly.

  “You saw that, Ima?!” Marguerite was surprised, and then she remembered Mr Lieberman had also seen it.

  “Rest assured, sweet girl, you and your baby are safe and welcome here. Do you not feel better having shared your burden with Ima?”

  Marguerite nodded enthusiastically, relieved Ima knew her dark secret and had accepted her in spite of it. “I don’t know how to thank you for your kindness, Ima. You are the mother I never had,” she pressed into the warmth of Ima and Ima kissed her head gently.

  “Now, Marguerite, we have to start preparing you for your baby. The first step is to announce the expected arrival to the rest of the family, so they can prepare, too.”

  Marguerite swallowed heavily, staring into the old woman’s kind and compassionate eyes. “I’m afraid, Ima. What will they say?”

  “Come, Marguerite. Let us find out.”

  The short journey down the stairs and into the kitchen seemed like a world marathon for Marguerite, but Ima stood by her side and when they entered the family room, everyone stopped to look up. Majiv was upstairs, still in his room, so Ima called for him to come down. After the family had gathered and were curiously watching the scene, with Marguerite obviously upset and cowering in Ima’s embrace, Ima gently spoke.

  “Now that we are all here, Marguerite has something she wants to tell us.”

  While Marguerite stumbled to speak, Ima held her hand and by the time Marguerite had finished telling of her ordeal, there wasn’t a dry eye in the kitchen. The family gathered affectionately around Marguerite and stood firmly behind her, offering her the love and acceptance that Jesus Himself had modelled.

  Katarzyna hurried through the remainder of her homework and couldn’t wait to get upstairs to talk to Marguerite, and when Katarzyna burst through the bedroom door, the room was darkened and she could hear Marguerite gently sobbing.

  “What’s wrong, Marguerite?!” Katarzyna worried; leaving the door open and using the landing light to see, she dropped to the floor at Marguerite's bedside and reached for her hand.

  “Don’t worry, Katarzyna, they’re tears of joy, not sadness. I’m overwhelmed at the support of my family,” Marguerite explained, squeezing Katarzyna’s hand.

  “Can I feel the baby, Marguerite?”

  “Of course you can,” Marguerite guided Katarzyna’s hand over the baby bump. “Little one, this is your Aunty Katarzyna,” Marguerite announced proudly.

  Katarzyna lifted her hand and kissed it and placed it back on the baby’s outline. “Welcome to our family, little one.”

  *~*~*~*

  Chapter 34

  Checking the rear vision mirror, Smiley’s little car was getting further behind her and for the hundredth time, Becky reluctantly lifted her foot and slowed down so Smiley could catch up. She wanted to get home after four days away, longing to feel Brett’s arms around her, with each moment spent talking on the phone igniting the
ir desire further and aching to be back together. The final sixty miles were the hardest to cope with, knowing Brett would be home waiting for her, yet Smiley seemed to be purposely dawdling. She glanced up at her rear vision mirror and was surprised to see Smiley had caught up, so she pushed the accelerator back down and quickly reached the speed limit again. Smiley seemed to have interpreted her intention and this time he stayed with her.

  As they reached the outer limits of the city, the traffic started to thicken and the sun was setting quickly, with the last few days being a tortured roller coaster ride, leaving Becky exhausted, both physically and emotionally. She’d lost sight of Smiley again and again, obstructed by a solid wall of traffic, only to have him reappear directly beside her, grinning profusely as if he was escorting her home. Waving and returning Smiley’s greeting, his words kept persisting and salving her heart, having had two full days to come to terms with Emma and Jacob Forest and if it hadn’t been for Smiley’s insane journey and his intervention, she was sure things would have ended very differently. Even so, Becky was dubious whether the relationship with Emma and Jacob could ever be repaired or whether she could ever attempt to see them again.

  Running her hand around the seat belt and over her baby bump, Becky began to recall the happy times she’d had with the two people she thought were her parents, but each time she contemplated Emma and Jacob and the lie they’d so callously propagated, she became more and more confused. Her own mother, for whatever reason, had given her up and Emma had lied to her. Talking to her stomach and gently rubbing her abdomen, Becky made a promise.

  ”Mummy will never give you up or intentionally lie to you, sweetheart.”

  But then Becky glanced across to the photocopy lying on the seat next to her and for the thousandth time since Smiley had jumped the counter and illegally copied the document, she pondered, one of the names on that sheet was her real mother and she was still hiding her identity in a deliberate cloak of deception.