‘Of course I’m pleased for you, you silly thing,’ I say, wrapping my arms around him and giving him a squeeze. ‘It’s a surprise, that’s all.’
‘I told you it would be.’ Charlie grins. ‘Now, do you want to see inside?’
‘You bet I do!’ I reply. ‘Is it safe?’
Charlie gives me a dismissive look. ‘Do you think I’d take you of all people in there if it wasn’t?’
‘Then what are we waiting for?’ I grin. ‘Let’s go explore!’
We leave Wilson tied on a loose lead to the outside staircase. He isn’t quite as energetic as he used to be, and looking at the height of the lighthouse, I assume there will be a lot of steps to climb inside.
‘Wow!’ I exclaim, as Charlie unlocks the door and we head inside. ‘This is incredible!’
My head is fully tipped back as I gaze up above me. ‘And so much bigger than I expected.’
‘Told you so,’ Charlie says proudly as we begin to climb the long black spiral staircase that dominates the central atrium. ‘It’s gonna take some work to get it up and running. But I can do it.’
‘I know you can,’ I tell him as we head higher and higher through the individual floors, each comprising a circular room. ‘It’s gonna be amazing!’
We finally reach the top, the old lantern room, and Charlie takes my hand as we squeeze past the huge glass lantern that once would have shone out over Sandybridge harbour to warn passing ships of their proximity to the shore. He guides me to the seaward-facing side of the lighthouse.
‘Check out this view!’ Charlie says, looking out through one of the many windows that circle the top floor.
I follow his gaze, and find myself looking out over a stunning view of Sandybridge bay; the bright winter sun already beginning to drop in the sky towards the khaki-grey sea. We move slightly to the left so we can now see the whole town of Sandybridge stretching out into the distance, from the promenade right out to the school. Then as we keep moving around the top of the lighthouse, we discover the familiar warm colours of Sandybridge Hall, standing proudly in its evergreen grounds.
‘It’s a full 360-degree view of our home town,’ Charlie says. ‘What more could you want?’
‘You won’t get any work done if you have an office up here,’ I joke. ‘You’ll be looking out at the view all day!’
‘I know, isn’t it the best though?’ Charlie says. ‘Why would you want to go anywhere else, when you can look out at this?’ He looks at me expectantly when I don’t respond. ‘Look, Gracie, I know all you want to do is travel the world when you’ve got your degree, but this lighthouse is my future, my chance to be a success. Only, I’m doing it in a slightly different way to you.’
‘It doesn’t matter what each of us wants as long as we’re happy, does it?’ I say, resting my head on his shoulder as we both stand looking out at the view over to Sandybridge Hall. ‘Are you happy, Charlie?’
‘I could be,’ he says quietly, as if he’s reassuring himself rather than answering my question, ‘if I just give it time.’
Fifteen
I decided it would be a good idea to invite Charlie to join Danny and me at the pub tonight, partly because I couldn’t see why I shouldn’t; three old friends – well, classmates: Charlie and Danny were never the best of friends – catching up was better than two, surely? And partly because I knew if Charlie was there Danny wouldn’t try anything; as much as my body still seemed to crave Danny, my mind certainly did not.
As I’m trying to decide what to wear, I find myself staring at the old typewriter again. After what Charlie had shown me earlier, and how happy he seemed at the prospect of setting up this new business, I can’t help wondering whether the typewriter had been correct with its last piece of advice. Was being prevented from attending university actually the best thing that could have happened to Charlie? I’m still not convinced, but I am intrigued to find out what the typewriter might say about his new venture.
When I open the bottom drawer of the dressing table I find I still have some plain A4 paper in there, so I pull a sheet free and I’m about to feed it into the typewriter for the first time in six years when I hesitate.
‘It better be good this time, Remy, or whoever it is that’s sending these notes,’ I instruct the typewriter as I feed the paper on to the spool. ‘Don’t be sending me any coded messages this time. Just the facts, OK?’
I stand for a moment, watching the keys of the typewriter in the hope they might feel obliged to start bobbing up and down, typing out a new letter immediately. But as always when I watch, nothing happens.
Maybe that’s it, I think as I head into the bathroom to clean my teeth. Maybe the letters were only meant for me when I was a teenager. No one said they were going to keep coming. I’d thought I was in control of them, by not allowing Remy to type any more advice; perhaps the truth was there had been no more advice to give.
I finish cleaning my teeth and wash my face, then head back across the landing, still undecided about what to wear tonight. Whatever I choose, it’s not going to be something that will encourage Danny in any shape or form, I tell myself. Even if I have to wear a polo —
‘Whoa!’ I cry as I enter my bedroom.
While I’ve been away, Remy has been busy:
Dear Grace,
How lovely to speak with you again after all this time.
Sadly the advice I bring you today is not quite as pleasant as advice I’ve given you in the past.
On New Year’s Eve tragedy will befall Sandybridge. You cannot stop this, but please do what you can to prevent as many people as possible from being involved.
I know you’ve lost faith in me. But everything I tell you is meant with the best of intentions for you, and for your family and friends.
Please listen.
Love, Me x
*
It’s around eight o’clock as I make my way to the Sandybridge Arms, one of the town’s better pubs. I’ve asked Charlie to meet us there at around eight thirty, long enough to give Danny and me the chance to catch up, but not long enough that he could try to work his magic on me. Danny, true to form, is late. So I sit alone at a corner table nursing my beer, surreptitiously watching the handful of drinkers occupying the Sandybridge Arms this evening. Not exactly original, a pub taking the name of its town, but the Sandybridge Arms had been part of the Sandybridge estate back in the days when the Claymore family owned most of the local area, and the name, if not the family, still remained.
These days Sandybridge wasn’t owned by anyone, apart from its holidaymakers! If it wasn’t for our constant stream of tourists, many of the local businesses would most likely go under, including Mum and Dad’s.
Suddenly I feel quite protective of my home town, and even though I’m trying my best not to think about it, the letter I found in Remy earlier bothers me as I sip on my lonely beer.
What could Remy mean, a tragedy is going to befall Sandybridge? That’s a bit dramatic, surely, even for him?
I have to admit Remy had been pretty accurate when I was younger, but he’d never predicted anything like this before. Supposing he turned out to be right this time too? And if he was, what could I do about it?
I feel my tummy growl. Before coming out I had a quick sandwich made up of leftover Christmas turkey and salad, but some of the locals are having bar meals, and there’s a distinct aroma of chicken and chips wafting up into my nostrils. My stomach and I seem to fight a never-ending battle. It appears to think I need to eat much more frequently, while my brain and my size 12 jeans disagree. So much of the time it’s left complaining while my willpower claims victory.
To take my mind off Remy’s letter and my growling stomach, I look around the pub’s interior and I notice there are several small watercolour paintings and pencil sketches of Sandybridge Hall hanging on the walls amongst the dark wooden beams. Next to me is a portrait of the third Earl of Sandybridge, Robert Claymore. By his dress I would guess the painting must have been done in the late
eighteenth century. I’m gazing at the picture, mentally checking my facts, when it strikes me there’s something quite familiar about the scene. But what? I examine the painting more closely, and realise that the earl is standing by one of the stone gargoyles that guard the front of Sandybridge Hall to ward away evil spirits and scare intruders.
‘Ah, that’s where I know you from,’ I tell the gargoyle. ‘We found a key under one of you once.’ And I smile as I remember Charlie and my first trip to explore the big house.
‘Are you talking to a painting, Gracie?’ a voice says, making me jump. ‘What are they teaching you at that university?’
‘Hi, Danny,’ I reply calmly, turning around. ‘You’re late.’
‘Did you expect anything else from me, Gracie?’ he grins, not in the least bit apologetic. ‘I thought you knew me better than that.’
I hold out my glass. ‘Get the beer in and I’ll forgive you!’
‘So, tell me more about this boyfriend of yours,’ Danny asks after he’s been up to the bar. ‘Is he good in bed?’
‘Danny!’ I hiss. ‘As if I’m going to discuss that with you!’
‘I just like to know what I’m up against. Can’t have someone beating me in the battle of the bonk!’
I shake my head at his use of the awful eighties slang. ‘Do you ever stop?’
‘Nope!’ He flashes me another grin and takes a large sip of his beer. ‘Most ladies don’t want me to!’
‘Well I do. It was over between us a long time ago, Danny, and I have no intention of starting anything up again, do you understand?’
Danny puts on his best gloomy face and looks down into his beer. Then, quick as a flash, he look up at me and winks. ‘Ah, you always were a tough nut to crack, Gracie!’
‘You better believe it!’ I tell him, secretly enjoying his flirting a bit too much. I place my elbow on the table between us, and rest my chin on the palm of my hand. ‘A hard nut with a very soft centre!’
‘Don’t I know it…’ Danny murmurs in a soft voice, leaning in towards me across the table so our faces are close. But this time the expression on his handsome face suggests he isn’t messing. ‘I miss you,’ he says, to my surprise. ‘There’s been other girls since you and I were together, I’m not denying that. Lots of girls, actually…’ he adds wistfully, thinking about it for a second. ‘But none of them have got close to you, Gracie. Not one.’
I don’t know what to say. I hadn’t been expecting this at all.
‘I know we’re miles away from each other most of the time these days, but couldn’t we give it another try? I’m sure this Johnny chap can’t feel the same way about you as I do.’
‘I… er…’ Come on, brain, I urge, even though my heart is racing far ahead right now in the battle of sense versus feelings. I need you to win this one!
Someone clears their throat next to us, and I spin around.
Charlie!
I immediately jump up from my chair to embrace him. ‘You made it!’ I cry, sounding far too excited.
‘Yes…’ Charlie says, peeling my arms from his shoulders. ‘Did you think I wouldn’t then?’ He looks warily at Danny, who seems equally as unenthused to see him.
‘Charlie,’ Danny says, acknowledging him. ‘I thought Gracie and me were flying solo tonight? We don’t need a chaperone.’
‘I asked Charlie to come and have a drink with us,’ I tell Danny. ‘I thought it might be nice if we all caught up, rather than just the two of us.’
‘I’ll go if I’m not welcome,’ Charlie says, turning to leave. ‘The two of you looked pretty cosy when I arrived.’
‘Well, three’s a crowd ’n’ all that,’ Danny says deliberately.
I glare at Danny.
‘No, Charlie, I want you to stay,’ I plead. ‘Please, come and sit down with us.’ I pull out a chair for him.
He looks at Danny, who shrugs in reply. So Charlie takes the chair and sits down next to us. ‘Seems like the lady wants me to stay,’ he tells Danny, equally purposefully.
I have to laugh. ‘This isn’t the Wild West, you know,’ I tell them. ‘You two will be duelling with pistols over me next.’
I’m delighted when I see both of them smile.
‘Right, now let’s just try to get along for one evening, shall we?’ I ask hopefully.
Charlie nods while Danny mumbles something that sounds like, ‘I spose.’
‘So, my round then?’ Charlie offers in the spirit of forgiveness. ‘Danny, what ya having?’
I smile gratefully at Charlie.
‘No, this one’s on me, mate,’ Danny pipes up. ‘I insist.’
I do the same to Danny.
‘Mine’s a pint of Adnams then,’ Charlie says. ‘Cheers.’
‘Good choice.’ Danny nods. ‘Gracie?’
I look at my glass. It should be my round, but I don’t want to break the truce that seems to have sprung up between Danny and Charlie. ‘Vodka and Coke, please, Danny.’
‘Right,’ he says, standing up. ‘Two pints of Adnams and a double vodka and Coke. Be right back!’
‘No!’ I call after him as he makes his way up to the bar. ‘I only wanted a single!’
But my plea falls on deaf ears, so I turn to Charlie.
‘Thanks for coming,’ I tell him. ‘I appreciate it.’
‘Are you sure I won’t be playing gooseberry?’ Charlie picks up a beer mat and turns the edges around on top of the table. ‘You two looked pretty cosy a moment ago.’
‘No, of course not!’ I insist. ‘That was just Danny being Danny. I was playing him at his own game for a bit.’
‘You looked like you were enjoying it.’ Instead of twiddling the beer mat around, Charlie now begins stacking several mats up in a sort of house shape.
‘Maybe I was… a bit. Don’t tell me you don’t enjoy it when girls flirt with you?’
Charlie looks at me incredulously. ‘Yeah, like that happens.’
‘Of course it does! Maybe you choose not to see it, that’s all.’
‘Grace, girls do not flirt with me. Never have. Probably never will. I’m the little ginger kid with the goofy teeth. That’s how people remember me around here.’
‘Are you kidding me?’ I ask, amazed he actually thinks this. ‘You’re gorgeous now. You’re not the little ginger kid any more, you’re a very handsome young man with fabulous strawberry blond hair, and the loveliest, kindest blue eyes I’ve ever seen!’
Charlie looks at me with a mixture of surprise, embarrassment and something else I can’t quite place. ‘Don’t be daft,’ he mumbles, his cheeks flushing pink. ‘I’m not handsome.’
‘Yes, you are!’ I correct him. ‘You may not see it, but I’ve seen how the girls look at you when we’re out together.’
‘What girls?’ Charlie snorts. ‘You’re imagining things.’
I try to recall a specific occasion. ‘What about earlier today when we went for our walk with Wilson? There was that girl with the two Yorkshire terriers we passed on the beach – she gave you the eye.’
‘No she didn’t.’
‘I’m telling you she did. If I hadn’t been with you, I bet she would’ve tried to strike up a conversation. She probably assumed I was your girlfriend or something!’ I grin at the thought.
‘Would that be so bad?’ Charlie asks, fiddling with the beer mats again. This time he flips one up from the side of the table and tries to catch it.
I look at him to see if he’s joking. But he appears to be serious.
‘No, of course not,’ I reply, suddenly feeling incredibly awkward. I feel my own cheeks getting hot. ‘Any girlfriend of yours would be the luckiest girl ever.’
Charlie stops his card game and looks at me. ‘Do you really think that?’
‘Of course!’ I try to reply in a reassuring voice.
Charlie nods slowly. ‘Good, because the thing is, Gracie, there’s something I’ve wanted —’
‘God, they’re so slow up at that bar,’ Danny interrupts as he returns to
the table with our drinks. ‘If this was London, people would walk out!’ He puts down the two pints of beer. ‘Back in a mo with yours, Gracie!’ he says, heading to the bar again.
‘What were you going to say?’ I ask Charlie.
He shakes his head. ‘It doesn’t matter. Some other time.’
‘Right, and here’s your vodka and Coke,’ Danny says, plonking my glass on the table in front of me. ‘Christ, what’s happened to all the beer mats?’
Sixteen
‘So what have you been up to over Christmas?’ I ask Danny later when it’s Charlie’s turn to go up to the bar. There’s been a nice atmosphere around the table since Charlie and Danny called a truce, and for the time being anyway, they seem to have forgotten any animosity between them.
‘Not much, it’s pretty dull around here. It’s funny, when I lived here it seemed like the centre of everything, you know?’
I nod. ‘Once you’ve lived in a big city, Sandybridge seems very…’ I struggle to find the right word.
‘Insignificant,’ Danny finishes for me.
‘No, that’s not what I meant at all. Sandybridge isn’t insignificant. It might be a little quieter than me and you are used to now, but it has its charms.’
‘Name one,’ Danny demands. ‘I bet you can’t.’
I think hard. ‘Erm… oh, I know – the beaches! You can take some lovely walks along the shingle one, and the sandy one goes on for miles and miles. It’s beautiful.’
‘Hmm, all right, I’ll give you that,’ Danny says grudgingly. ‘Both the beaches are quite cool, if you like that sort of thing. Bet you can’t name another though.’
I think again. ‘Sandybridge Hall? That’s pretty and it has a colourful history, too. I did some reading up on it. Did you know that —’
‘A beach and an old house!’ Danny interrupts, grinning at me. ‘It’s hardly Rough Guide territory, is it?’
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