The Secrets of Black Dean Lighthouse

by Jack Dey

  A murmur ran through the people in the lounge room.

  “I’m just a little uneasy, Becky,” Bethany shifted uncomfortably. “Please forgive me? Would you indulge me and show me your little pink baby blanket?”

  “Of course, Bethany,” Becky hoped it would put Bethany’s mind at rest and wriggled out of her seat, making her way to the box of information she had put aside and took hold of the little blanket. Returning to Bethany, Becky reached for Bethany’s hand and placed the little blanket into her palm.

  The older woman felt the blanket and then turned it over in her hands to locate the tag and when she’d found what she was looking for, she ran her fingers over the top side and then turned the tag over and ran her index finger carefully over the fading needlework. Assured the blanket was authentic, Bethany smiled.

  “I have my birth certificate, also,” Becky stole a quick glance to Emma to see how she was coping and when Emma smiled back and nodded, Becky handed the birth certificate to Miss Gavin to read out to Bethany.

  “Bethany, the document says, Birth certificate: Rebecca Ellen Brown; Born June 12th 1986; Landon County Hospital; Mothers name: Evelyn Brown.”

  Bethany shifted uncomfortably in her seat and a rogue tear slipped from her blind eyes. “Forgive me, Becky, I need a few moments. This is hard for me to revisit.”

  Becky instinctively wriggled out of her seat and kneeled in front of Bethany, taking her hand. “I’m sorry this is distressing you, Bethany. Please take your time and stop when it gets too difficult.”

  Bethany took comfort from Becky’s words and in some strange way she could hear Becky’s mother speaking, and reached out, stroking Becky’s face. Then after a massive sigh, Bethany’s voice whispered just loud enough for Becky to hear, “It’s time I confronted my fear and you deserve to know, Becky. June the twelfth, 1986 is a day I will never forget. Your mum and dad had been praying for a baby for a long time and it seemed that Father had not heard their petition, remaining childless throughout their married life. Then one day your dad and mum got the surprise of their lives when, roughly nine months before, Evelyn missed her period. Your mum was forty-six and she at first thought it was the beginnings of menopause and went to check with her doctor, but to their excitement he confirmed she was pregnant.”

  Becky’s eyes were running over. “Mum was forty-six when she had me,” Becky voiced her thoughts. “Then why did they give me up?” Becky’s hurt pierced the silence.

  Bethany quickly continued, “The early morning hours of June the twelfth were times of joy and great sadness, when heavily pregnant Evelyn began to experience severe labour pains but thankfully they were only twenty minutes from the maternity ward by car. The pains were getting closer together and more intense, and your father prepared to drive her to the hospital. By this time, it was well after midnight and everyone was getting concerned for Evelyn. Being an older lady, she had struggled with the pregnancy and her doctor had confined her to bed weeks before.”

  Bethany suddenly choked at the memory and tried to regain her composure. Miss Gavin squeezed her hand for assurance, giving Bethany the fortitude to continue.

  “Outside, a massive thunderstorm had moved in and the wind was howling. All the ambulances had been tied up with storm related accidents, so your father had to act quickly and only just managed to get Evelyn into the car before the sky opened up. Driving rain was pouring down everywhere, while Evelyn’s contractions came closer and closer, leaving her struggling for breath. Your father panicked and tried to get Evelyn to hospital as fast as he could, but as he approached an intersection in the blinding rain only a couple of miles from the hospital, a truck ran a give way sign and ploughed into the car and pinned it against a tree. The truck driver simply hadn’t seen them,” Bethany began to weep and then broke and sobbed and sobbed.

  A shocked realisation was forming in Becky’s mind and her mouth hung open, staring at the broken woman and tears began to stream down her face.

  After Miss Gavin’s reassurance, Bethany blew her nose and then wiped her eyes, continuing unsteadily, “Y..your father died at the scene and by the time an ambulance arrived, your mother was fading fast, being badly injured. They rushed her into emergency but she died on the operating table, however, they did an emergency caesarean section and little Rebecca made an unexpected healthy arrival.”

  The lounge room was unnaturally quiet and tense with emotion while people blew their noses and wiped away tears, but Becky openly wept.

  Bethany continued, choking on her tears, “So you see, Rebecca, you were our miracle baby in more than one way and your father and mother were so happy when they found they were carrying a girl. They loved you so deeply and they had no intention of ever giving you up.”

  Brett pulled his grieving wife into his arms. Becky’s face was a mess of emotions, buried in Brett’s chest and her shoulders shuddered as she tried to come to terms with Bethany’s story. Joy and grief chased each other across her features, then a question formed in her mind and she turned to face Bethany.

  “I don’t understand,” Becky wiped away tears. “If they had no intention of giving me up, then why does my birth certificate forbid any details from being released about my mother?”

  Bethany swallowed hard and then sighed. “It wasn’t to stop you from finding her or your family history,” Bethany shifted uncomfortably. “It was to stop someone else from finding you.”

  Bethany’s meaning trickled into understanding and the people in the room murmured.

  Becky’s eyes were wide. “Finding me?!”

  Bethany’s demeanour took on a darker appearance. “This is where things start to get complicated, Becky. The reason you, or your friend, Smiley, couldn’t find anything on Evelyn or your father or their deaths was because they were buried under another name. Your mother and father were buried together in a grave site under Michael and Julia Classons.”

  Smiley nodded, looking like a big piece of the jigsaw suddenly fitted and that part was starting to make sense.

  “I used to visit their grave frequently, until it became too dangerous for me to continue."

  “Too dangerous?! My goodness, what danger could possibly be lurking for someone as lovely as you?”

  Bethany smiled a watery smile. “Thank you, Becky.”

  “I became the only link for him to find you and I was the only one who could stop him from finding you.”

  Smiley’s head began nodding as his investigative mind started to piece the puzzle together, although he remained silent and waited for the puzzle to fall into place.

  Becky’s mind was reeling from the blows and starting to feel like she had walked into a minefield. “Why does this... him want to find me and who is Katie, then, the one spoken of on the blanket tag?” Becky’s expression was confused.

  Bethany shifted uneasily in her seat. She was sure she was safe, but being hunted was still fresh in her mind. She stammered, trying to spit the words out, divulging a secret she’d worked so hard, for so long to protect. “K..Katie is me,” she confessed in a whisper. “I am your father’s sister. Your aunty and your last remaining blood relative.”

  *~*~*~*

  Chapter 61

  Rebecca Redden stared, shocked, across at the blind woman sitting not more three feet away from her. “You’re my aunty?!” Becky repeated, stunned.

  “I can assure you she is telling the truth, Rebecca,” Miss Gavin interrupted her.

  “Then why did you tell me Katie died in 1968?” Becky couldn’t understand the deceit.

  “To understand that, you have to understand the... him that Beth..Katie keeps talking about," Miss Gavin responded.

  “Can you bring my case over for me?” Katie turned to Miss Gavin.

  Smiley had the case and was halfway across the room in an instant. He laid it at Katie’s feet and backed away again.

  “Thank you, Mr Williams,” Miss Gavin responded.

  Katie searched through her belongings until she found an old schoo
l photo. “Here, this may help to fit the pieces together,” Katie handed Becky the photograph.

  Becky searched a row of people until she stopped on a younger version of Katie and then fingered the name written beneath it.

  Katarzyna (Katie) Protlenski.

  Becky began to tremble, feeling weak as she studied the name again and again.

  Then it dawned.

  If Katie’s name was Protlenski, then Becky’s name would have been Protlenski, too.

  “I..I am a Protlenski?” Becky stammered.

  “Your father, like me, was of Polish descent, although we were both born in this country. That’s why you have such lovely, jet black hair. Your father was dark haired like you, but your mum was blonde and she was born here, too.”

  “So, Evelyn was a cover name to stop him from finding me?” Becky realised.

  “Yes. Your mum’s name was Marguerite and your father’s name was Majiv.”

  Becky sat in silence. Her thoughts kept chasing Marguerite's and Majiv’s names around in her head and then she remembered the car accident that had robbed her of her parents and changed her life forever.

  “I have only one photograph of your parents.”

  Katie’s voice interrupted Becky’s thoughts and Becky’s heart raced. She took the photograph eagerly from Katie’s hand and studied the black and white print: Majiv’s dark handsomeness and Marguerite's blonde beauty, but they seemed so very young. Becky studied her mother’s form closely and then realised, with a gasp, “She’s pregnant!” Becky’s eyes were questioning. “I thought I was their only child?”

  Katie shifted in her seat again. “It’s time for me to take you right back to the beginning and fill in the gaps. The him I keep referring to, is your mother’s father and your grandfather. Marguerite's mother had been an activist for migrant rights and her father was a deeply-seated racist and hated everyone who had foreign descent. Marguerite's mother died suddenly when she was three years old and her father turned to alcohol, blaming migrants for her death. Marguerite's father was lost in a world of selfishness, hatred and alcoholism, neglecting poor Marguerite.

  "Searching for love, Marguerite fell in love with a boy who turned out to be a user. He basically raped her and at age sixteen, she fell pregnant. The boy told her to have an abortion and when she refused, he beat her up and sent her packing. A sixteen year old girl, pregnant and without any support, is easy prey to any passing abuse. Marguerite knew if her father found out she was pregnant, then he probably would kill her. So she ran away.

  "Majiv and I lost our parents when we were quite young and we lived next door to two childless wonderful Messianic Jews, Mr and Mrs Lieberman. We called them Ima and Abba and they unofficially adopted us as their own kids. Mr Lieberman was a baker and owned his own business down the road and taught Majiv the trade while I attended a Jewish-Christian school. Marguerite applied for a job with the bakery and Mr Lieberman put her on staff. He became suspicious about Marguerite when she came in to work sporting a black eye and then found her suitcase stashed in the alleyway beside the bakery. He confronted her about where she lived and Marguerite couldn’t answer him convincingly. So basically, we adopted Marguerite, too.

  "Ima found out one day that Marguerite was pregnant and asked her what had happened. Marguerite nervously explained her story and to her surprise, everyone was so excited about a new life coming into the family. Everything was going well until a young policeman saw her working at the bakery and became suspicious that she was an underage pregnancy. Apparently at the same time, she had been listed by her father as missing and the policeman somehow recognised her. Just about a week before she was to give birth, an unmarked police car picked her up not one hundred feet from our apartment door and took her back to her father. Her father thought the child was Majiv’s and took her to an abortion clinic. They killed the baby and in so doing, damaged Marguerite's womb.”

  Becky’s eyes were wide and her tears spilled over in grief. “My poor Mum,” she gasped.

  Katie continued, “Marguerite's father took her home from the clinic, bleeding and suffering from toxic abortion and then beat her senseless, nearly dying there and then. Somehow, in the early hours, she managed to gather enough will and strength to make a phone call to Ima, resulting in Majiv and our friend, Tom, breaking into her father’s house. Her father was unconscious on the floor in one of his drunken stupors and they managed to rescue her and bring her back home, but it was touch and go for many hours. I can still remember the fervent prayer that was being offered on her behalf as Ima and I worked on your mother.

  “Afterwards, Ima kept vigil in the room your mum and I shared, nursing her back to a place where she could be moved without causing her more pain. Abba figured it wouldn’t be long before Marguerite's father would be around to try and force her back home again and finish the job. So they made a bed in the back of Tom’s station wagon and organised to send her to some friends of Tom’s in Landon County. Majiv refused to let her go alone and soon after they arrived in Landon County, they were married.”

  The mood in the room was one of unbelief and grief at the story.

  “So, did you go with Marguerite and Majiv?” Becky asked, wiping her eyes with her hands.

  “No, Becky. I was only eleven.” Katarzyna sighed and began again, “Just as Abba predicted, your grandfather came after Marguerite the next day. He banged on the apartment door, demanding to be let in and as Mr Lieberman opened it... this him went mad with a baseball bat, swinging and lunging at everything in his path. Abba couldn’t stop him and he easily overpowered the old man. He saw me and brought down the bat across my head... and that was the last thing I remember...”

  Becky stared directly at Katie, suddenly realising why she was blind and had the unsightly deformity on her head. She launched herself at Katie and wrapped her in a watery hug. “Oh, Aunt Katie, I am so sorry, honey!”

  The room was tense as Katie regained her composure and she hesitatingly continued, “They... they sent your grandfather to jail for only five years for what he did to us. Abba died two days later from a heart attack and Ima retreated into herself. Majiv sent for Ima and me once I got out of hospital and then the years and years of heartache and painful convalescence began. My world fell apart when I finally accepted the fact that I was blind and would never see again. If it wasn’t for Miss Gavin here and her relentless driving to train her students in the blind school, I would still be a mess.

  “I made your baby blanket for Marguerite when the school was still open, as a kind of encouragement for Marguerite to believe that Father still did miracles and He would give her another baby girl—and as a healing process for me. I had no idea that so many years later, it would bring us together,” Katie had a faraway look on her face as she recalled. “Ima prayed for a miracle baby for Majiv and Marguerite every day before she died, and now our miracle is right here with us.”

  Becky reached out for Katie’s hand and pressed it lovingly, bringing Katie to herself again. She smiled at Becky’s touch and returned her gesture.

  “Anyway, back to him. Arthur Dillon dried out in jail and vowed to find Marguerite, Majiv and anyone else connected to us. He made some powerful allies in prison and many times we have been on the wrong end of his friends' attempts to even the score and destroy us.”

  “And that’s why you killed Katie off in 1968. So him would think you were dead, leaving no trace leading back to Marguerite, Majiv or me,” Becky speculated.

  “Yes, that too, but it was a way of vetting anyone looking for Katie and then watching their reaction to her apparent death. It told us whether they meant us harm or not, and we became very good at covering our tracks.”

  Becky thought out loud. “What about the police? Couldn’t they do anything?”

  Katie sighed. “We figured they were complicit in killing Marguerite's child by sending her back to her father and would only help him find her again.” Katie was starting to feel a sense of healing after sharing the story,
leaving the horrors of the past years seeming like a bad dream now it had been given air space. She continued, “I believe Arthur Dillon died two years ago. But we weren’t sure if he still had his friends out looking for us. That’s why Mr Williams got such a runaround.”

  Smiley grinned at the mention of his name.

  “Wow, what a complicated web,” Becky remarked, peering across at Smiley.

  Smiley mouthed something to Becky and her brow creased in puzzlement and then she understood his mime.

  “Aunt Katarzyna, I don’t know if you know anything about this, but I have had nightmares all my life about a girl named Katie and a place called Contention Island...” Becky stopped mid sentence as Katie’s face contorted in a disturbing expression.

  *~*~*~*

  Chapter 62

  The morning had been a draining experience for all the people in the room and most particularly, Katarzyna. Miss Gavin could see her charge was becoming tired and distressed. “Can we take a little break, my dear? The bus journey has been telling on both of us and the morning has been stressful for all concerned. We would benefit greatly from a respite.”

  Becky’s concern for the two elderly ladies took precedence over her curiosity. She had organised with Smiley and Jacqui to borrow a couple of single divans and had set up the spare room to house the two beds. They were her guests and now that the bond had been established, she was determined that Aunt Katie would be made as comfortable as she knew how. “Would you like to take a shower and have a nap in the spare room? I’ve set up some beds for you,” Becky offered.

  Katie’s face relaxed at the thought of a nap and Miss Gavin appeared visibly relieved. “That would be wonderful, dear!”

  Becky helped Katie to her feet and wrapped her in a hug. “Thank you, sweetheart, for everything you have suffered on my behalf. I love you, Aunty.”

  Katie's eyes were moist when Becky broke from her arms. “I love you too, Becky. I’m glad your life has turned out exactly as your birth parents would have wanted. Can I speak to your parents, please?”