The Secrets of Black Dean Lighthouse

by Jack Dey

  Jock turned to face Desapo as they all peered into the darkened shopfront. “This woman really took your fancy, hey, Boss? I mean, making Neddy boss and changing the name to Parduck Stone and all.”

  Desapo turned away sheepishly, feeling the weight of his decision like some love struck teenager. “Yeah, Jock, sometimes we do stupid things,” Desapo tried to close the conversation.

  “I mean, she’s a real looker, Boss, but something that sweet has to come at a huge cost.”

  The gawking men started to laugh at the opulent surroundings inside the office, leaving Desapo feeling foolish and that he’d really backed himself into a corner. Desapo sighed at the usual teasing from his crew and with an unamused bark, he ordered, “Come on, let’s get down to the tug!”

  The workboat slowly idled through the harbour with its twin propellers stirring the calm green water in a gentle swirl. As soon as the vessel ventured through the heads protecting the harbour, the skipper pushed the throttles wide open and the powerful engines responded with a surge, digging in the stern and lifting the bow, pushing headlong toward the open sea. When the vessel pointed its bow for the platform, they were sailing directly into the rising sun, causing the skipper to shade his eyes with his hand and while an easterly breeze had intensified overnight, foaming whitecaps had turned the sea into a churning rollercoaster. The tug slammed headlong into the curling swell and sent spray billowing over the deck, bathing the crew in cold saltwater, causing a hurried and squealing exodus from the bow to the stern.

  Neddy braced himself against the helm, standing next to the skipper and watching the shadowy outline of the crane onboard the work platform come into view, just as another wave hammered into the tug. The windscreen wipers flapped back and forward, wiping off seawater sprayed up by the wind, momentarily blocking a clear view of what was in front of them. Although they were still thirty-five minutes from Black Dean, the towering deck crane appeared huge, even from this far away. Neddy swallowed hard when he saw the outline of the barge suspended above the sea, pinpointing the location of the Barrett Passage. It was high tide and the legs supporting the platform disappeared below the sea surface, while the hull of the huge structure sat clearly above the water line and from this angle, Neddy could see how flimsy it all appeared.

  Neddy shrugged, thinking to himself as if he talking to another party. Well, it has survived the first night and if it survives the first day of work, then it should survive the whole project.

  After another half hour travelling and with the barge looming huge in the tug’s windscreen, the skipper pulled back the throttles to idle and the vessel responded immediately, bobbing on its own wake while the team waited for Mouse to start up the crane engine and lower the man cage so the crew and supplies could be taken aboard.

  Many moments passed as they waited, but Mouse hadn’t responded. Neddy searched the deck, wondering whether he’d slept in, and with a hissed conversation to the skipper, several loud blasts erupted from the tug’s horn. The crew standing at the stern took fright at the sudden noise and complained loudly, but Neddy’s concern wasn’t with them and after a brief pause, he asked the skipper to repeat the horn blast.

  By this time Desapo had made his way into the wheelhouse. “What’s up, Neddy?”

  “Mouse hasn’t responded. I’m worried something has gone wrong,” Neddy replied.

  As the blast from the horn bellowed out for the second time, Neddy and Desapo scanned the deck. But still no Mouse.

  “That blast should have been enough to wake the dead if he’d slept in,” Desapo explained. “Maybe he stumbled on something and is injured.”

  Neddy pointed to the closest leg and turned to the skipper. “Can you get close to the leg? I’ll try to jump across from the tug and climb up the inspection ladder to the deck.”

  “Come on, Neddy, there has to be another way other than this?” Desapo complained. “If you get hurt, they’ll hang me out to dry.”

  “Can you see another solution, little brother?” Neddy roughly answered.

  “Yeah, it’s my project, so I’m going to be the clown that attempts to drown himself.”

  “Okay, Mr Hero. If you drown, who's gonna keep that Katie in line?” Neddy played.

  “Look who’s talking and what about the adorable Tess?!” Desapo returned.

  The skipper broke in, ”I might be able to nose the bow up close enough to grab the leg, but the tide is dropping and if we hit the reef, it’ll tear us open.”

  Desapo and Neddy stared at each other.

  ”We have to try something,” Desapo conceded. “And I’m going for the jump,” he added.

  With the hero selected and Desapo clinging to the point of the bow, ready to lunge for the access ladder, the tug idled up to the leg. The lazy movement of the sea pushed the vessel up and down, and they almost crashed into the barge when a rolling rogue swell hit them hard. The skipper was about to lose his nerve and abandon the dangerous manoeuvre, when Desapo abruptly disappeared from the bow. Neddy raced out to where he had last seen his brother and began searching the water frantically.

  “What ya looking for in the water, big brother?” Desapo’s voice came from above him.

  “You wait, Desapo!” Neddy bellowed, clearly relieved.

  “If I can work out how to operate this crane, I’ll let down the man cage,” Desapo responded nonchalantly as he walked toward the rear of the barge and while the tug backed away from the platform out into the safety of deeper water.

  From his seat in the crane high above the deck, Desapo felt his stomach tighten as he glanced down across the platform and to Mouse’s room, noticing the door was half open and gently swinging in the wind. Reaching for the starter key, Desapo cranked the crane’s engine into life and then pulled on each lever until the huge machine responded as he wanted. With the tug now securely anchored, Desapo lowered the man cage down over the tug’s stern deck and the crew climbed in. Winching up under Desapo’s control, the cage drifted over the platform and soon rested gently on the stretching deck, while the crew exited and began to search their new surrounds.

  Within fifteen minutes the barge deck had been searched, with no sign of Mouse and the caretaker's hut smelled excessively of lantern gas. Desapo checked the gas light and noticed the gas valve was still open, but the gas had long since drained out.

  Neddy waved his hand in front of his face as he entered the room. “Phew!” he responded, with the escaped gas insulting his tender nose. “There’s no sign of him, Desapo,” Neddy whispered, wrinkling his nose against the pungent gas smell.

  The two brothers stared at each other in shock, wondering what had become of Mouse.

  “I’d better report this to Draper,” Desapo huffed despondently. "An incident to report already and we haven’t even started."

  Backache took over the crane’s controls, peering down over Desapo far below, while he lowered the boss in the man cage onto the stern deck of the tug. Desapo dismounted the enclosure and waved an all clear to Backache and hurriedly walked into the tug wheelhouse. Commandeering the tug’s radio, Desapo attempted to contact the office, hoping to have Tess report Mouse’s disappearance to Draper and kick-starting the official investigation, circumventing any need for Desapo to leave the job site.

  “Barrett Passage calling Parduck Stone Masonry office, over.”

  Desapo waited for an answer and then repeated his transmission, but the same silence met each try. “That’s odd. Tess and Katie should be at the office by now,” Desapo whispered.

  After repeated attempts to raise the office, Desapo became concerned. Either the radio wasn’t working or something had gone badly amiss. With his frustration on the rise, Desapo walked out onto the deck and bellowed up to Neddy, ”I can’t reach the office. I’ll have to go back in and report Mouse's disappearance to Draper myself and I’ll check on the girls as well!”

  Neddy gave him the thumbs up and shouted down to his brother, “It’s almost low tide so we’ll start setting up the
foundation work and while where down there, we may find a clue to Mouse’s disappearance and whether he fell overboard!”

  From the stern of the tug, the trip back into Lightning Harbour was full of tension, with Desapo gazing at the sea and watching the shape of the barge diminishing in the distance. Mouse had been with Desapo for over ten years and he was struggling with emotions, wondering what had happened to one of his best workers.

  As the tug tied up at the pier, Desapo jumped onto the dock from the vessel and started to walk quickly toward the office and as he came closer, he could see the office door was open. Swiftly approaching, Desapo expected to hear Tess and Katie chattering as usual, but as he pushed the door fully open, ready to give a round of crisp commands, Desapo abruptly stopped in his tracks. The office was deserted and a table had been knocked over, spilling the contents to the floor. He reached for the radio receiver and called the tug and when the tug answered loud and clear, Desapo peered around in concern.

  “What on earth is going on?!”

  *~*~*~*

  Chapter 57

  Bethany Graham’s small apartment, especially designed for the disabled, was very familiar with everything in her universe having a place and everything was in its place, knowing exactly how many steps it took to reach every part of her intimate world. To any outsider watching Bethany in her home, she seemed to move about with confidence and ease, making it almost impossible to detect she was totally blind. Even ex-students believed she could see with her fingers, having developed a heightened sense of touch.

  Lately, the nights had been racked with terrible pain and she spent most of her time sleeping on her easy chair in the small lounge room, while the constant babble dribbling from the television kept her company through the long, lonely hours. Bethany’s sixty-nine year old frame was still in good order, except for the injury site and as she ran her hand over the indentation in her skull that had almost killed her and sent her blind, she pondered whether the increasing pain was a sign Father was planning to take her home soon.

  That awful day when the government closed the training facility was another cruel blow that had sent her into a tailspin, slamming the gates of isolation firmly closed around her life. The school was a lifeline for her and many of her friends, allowing them to socialise and learn new skills. Since the closure forty years ago, many familiar people had wandered out of her life, moving on to other parts of the country or passing away, trapping her in a desert of loneliness and fear. Miss Gavin kept in contact with many of her previous students and was Bethany’s only visitor these days.

  The jingle of the telephone ringing surprised her, with its intrusive tone sounding foreign in her isolated world. The phone rarely rang and was mainly there for her to ring out if she got into difficulty and needed to call for help, but the irony struck her and she wondered who she could actually turn to in a time of need. Bethany stiffly raised herself from her chair, pushing aside the blankets that kept her knees warm and then reached out to switch the TV off before walking briskly to the small table in the kitchen and warily intercepting the receiver.

  “Hello?” Bethany whispered, listening for signs of treachery.

  “Hello, dear, it’s just me. How are you doing?”

  “Miss Gavin! What a nice surprise. I am having a little pain in my old injury site, but apart from that everything is okay,” Bethany explained. “How are you doing?”

  “Oh... every day is another day I live, dear. I won’t beat around the bush, my love. I had a phone call from a gentleman looking for information on Katie yesterday morning... Are you still there, dear?”

  “Y..yes, sorry, Miss Gavin,” Bethany stammered in shock. “It has been a while since anyone has tried to find Katie. I thought all that was behind us,” Bethany worried.

  “If you don’t want to talk to this man, dear, you don’t have to,” Miss Gavin assured.

  Bethany’s voice cracked as she spoke, “Is it him, trying another tack?”

  “Mmm... I don’t know, dear, but there is a subtle difference worth thinking about. He spoke of an adopted girl, Rebecca, trying to locate her birth mother.”

  Bethany interrupted, a frightened tone in her voice, “He’s got her name!”

  “There’s more, dear. He also spoke about a pink baby blanket with a tiny message embroidered on the tag.”

  Miss Gavin heard a gasp from the other end of the line.

  “Just to be sure, dear, I told him when Katie died. He did sound genuinely upset.”

  “Could it be...?” Bethany broke off.

  “I have a number for you to contact if you want to risk a conversation. If you would like, dear, I can be with you when and if you decide to follow this up,” Miss Gavin offered.

  “That would be wonderful. I need to think this through, though. He may have uncovered some new facts, hoping to trick me into giving up more information.”

  *~*~*~*

  Resting his mobile phone in the palm of his left hand and awkwardly stabbing at the keys with both thumbs, Smiley frustratingly toyed with the device, pushing buttons till his address book appeared on the screen. Then typing in Betty Gavin and her phone number, Smiley conceded it was a great shame that Miss Gavin wouldn’t give him Bethany’s direct number. Becky might have had a good chance of locating her birth mother or at least a clue to her identity, but for now it was out of his hands and the ball was in Bethany’s court. If she decided she didn’t want to make contact, then the whole thing was over and Becky probably would never know.

  Smiley stared past his computer screen, his eyes focused on another time and another place when he officially conceded defeat and gave up his own search. The symbolic act was still fresh in his mind even after almost three years, when he took a cardboard box and wrote Mother across the top. Sitting alone with the empty cardboard container for many hours, pouring his heart out to his mother: all the missed Christmases, birthdays, school events and every other major circumstance in his life, he agonizingly described to the carton.

  Then after driving deep into the forest, miles from prying eyes, he cuddled the box and softly spoke, “I forgive you, Mum.”

  Remorsefully, he took a shovel from the back of his car and dug a deep hole, with the exertion helping to melt away the tears and release him from decades of pent up emotion, chaining him to the blurry image of an illusion. Placing the package into the hole and covering it over, closed off the most painful chapter in his life.

  Until that time, there hadn’t been a moment when he didn’t think about the faceless woman, consequently resigning himself to the soul-destroying fact that his mother just didn’t want to be found and to accept the finality of her decision and get on with living his life. If he had given up earlier, Jacqui would already be his wife and they may have had kids of their own by now. At that point, Smiley conceded he would never give up any child of his and put them through the years of rejection and heartache that had dogged his aching world.

  Now, his birth mother was symbolically dead and the black cord holding Smiley's emotions prisoner had finally been broken.

  Shaking off the bitter memories, Smiley seemed to be engrossed in his computer screen, but in fact was having a frantic private debate. Should he ring Becky and let her in on the new developments or should he keep the information to himself? Remembering the last time he’d uncovered information, Brett and his family had all but imploded, but this was different, he argued, most of the harrowing facts were now on the table and if one woman decided not to cooperate, then Becky’s search was over... plain and simple.

  *~*~*~*

  Becky lay on her bed in the darkened bedroom, with the blinds drawn, blocking out the mid afternoon sun. Her mind drifted back over the last few months and how her ordered life had fallen to pieces and then, thanks to Smiley’s amazing investigative skills, the pieces had seemed to fall back into place again. She lifted the tiny blanket to her face and rubbed its velvety texture, then once again inspected the tag, amazed at the message.


  Dropping the blanket by her side and with its texture still grasped in her hand, she teetered on falling into an exhausted sleep when the phone began to ring. Drawing her back from the edge of rest and emitting a frustrated sigh, Becky eased her feet over the side of the bed, pushing up with her arms behind her and gasping at the effort while baby kicked in protest at the sudden move. After a waddling amble, but moving as fast as the baby would tolerate, Becky eventually arrived in the kitchen and picked up the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Becky, it’s Smiley. Hope I didn’t wake you or something.”

  “Smiley! No, I was just lying down, but I promise I won’t chew you out for disturbing me and getting me back up again.”

  “Thanks, Becky, that’s comforting. Um... I may have a little lead on your baby blanket.”

  “Really?!” Becky exclaimed.

  “Don’t get your hopes up just yet! If the woman doesn’t ring me back then it’s all off, I’m afraid.”

  Smiley spent the next few minutes explaining how he’d redefined her search which led to Miss Gavin, which may lead to a woman known as Bethany Graham who allegedly knew the woman Katie mentioned on the tag, but faltered when he came to the part about Katie dying in 1968. Becky’s hopes were up and down all over the place at Smiley’s investigation narration. One minute she was elated and the next, she crashed and burned.

  “So, as soon as Bethany’s made contact, I’ll let you know what she is willing—or not willing—to say. However, there’s one thing you need to prepare yourself for and if she decides not to make contact, then the search is basically over for your birth mother.”

  The finality of Smiley’s words hit her hard and almost winded her, forcing a sharp, gasped breath to fill her lungs.

  “You okay, Becky?” Smiley wondered whether he had done the right thing.

  “Yep, Smiley, I understand... and thanks,” Becky whispered. “I’ll have to talk to Brett about increasing your salary.”