Christmas by the Lighthouse

by Rebecca Boxall

  ‘What a view!’ she said, pointing at the expanse of sea all around them and the cliffs in the distance blanketed with pink and yellow flowers – great swathes of sea pink and spotted rock-rose.

  ‘Incredible,’ Jude agreed, though he was less interested in their surroundings and far more intrigued by the woman sitting beside him.

  ‘You’re ill, aren’t you?’ she said next, getting straight to the point.

  Jude was astonished at her astuteness and found himself reminded of the old man at the hospital. ‘I . . . Yes, I am. How did you know?’

  ‘The books on brain tumours in your suitcase were a giveaway. I hoped you might just be a doctor or something. But now I’ve seen your eyes.’

  ‘My eyes?’

  ‘Yes. They’re full of sadness.’

  ‘Shit,’ Jude said. He bit his lip, feeling a little vulnerable that his eyes seemed to be giving away his secrets. ‘You’re right, anyway. A brain tumour. Inoperable. I’ve got a year to live, at most.’ He looked down at the ground, unable to continue to meet Summer’s gaze. The next moment he felt a hand on his. A soft, tanned hand – tiny, yet enormously reassuring.

  ‘Why don’t you get the coffee and biscuits out?’ she suggested. ‘A bit of comfort in a crisis.’ She said it as if his crisis were hers as well. It felt incredibly consoling. He poured a cup for them to share and Summer opened the biscuits and munched several, one after the other.

  ‘Sorry,’ she mumbled. ‘I’m into healthy eating usually – I don’t eat biscuits much. These ones are delicious!’ she giggled. Infectious. Such an infectious laugh. Though a moment later the laughter was drowned out by a sudden, loud siren.

  ‘What’s that?’ Summer asked.

  ‘Probably a re-enactment or something to do with the German bunkers. A Second World War air-raid siren or something . . .’ He wasn’t really interested. What he wanted to know was why Summer was in Jersey on an extended holiday and whether her husband was waiting for her back in Petit Port.

  ‘You’re married,’ he said, taking the same direct approach Summer had with him. He wouldn’t usually have had the confidence to be quite so forthright, but a whole new side to him seemed to be emerging since his diagnosis.

  ‘On a break,’ Summer explained. ‘My husband’s back in the UK, busy having a midlife crisis, and I’ve been packed off to Jersey. Actually, that makes me sound reluctant, which I’m not. I’m loving it. I probably shouldn’t be, but I am,’ she told him, looking impish.

  ‘Your husband must be insane,’ he told her. ‘If I were married to you, I—’ He stopped himself and looked down. What was he saying? She’d think he was a lunatic.

  Summer looked at him, seeming amused. ‘Well,’ she laughed, ‘I suspect I’m partly at fault, though heaven knows I’m not sure exactly what it is I’m meant to have done. I’m going to get my friend Tilly on the case. See if she can find out what’s going on. But for now I’m just going to enjoy it. The break.’

  ‘You sound like me. I’ve decided to do the same – just enjoy the time I have left.’

  Summer looked at him, serious now, her wild hair lashing his face. It smelt of coconut and vanilla and made him feel quite weak with longing. ‘You’re brave,’ she said. ‘You’re truly brave.’ It was the second time in two days that Jude had been called brave. He didn’t think he was at all, but he didn’t argue. After a moment, Summer looked at her watch. ‘We should head back,’ she said, bringing Jude reluctantly back to reality. She stood up, then gasped. ‘Oh shit! Jude, look! The tide’s come in! Over the path! I think we’re stuck!’

  ‘You’re kidding me . . . You don’t think . . . Oh Summer, you don’t think the siren was a warning signal, do you? Come to think of it, there were massive signs up just before the pathway warning about the tide. I haven’t been paying attention.’

  ‘What are we going to do? Will the sea reach us here? Have you got a phone on you? I didn’t bring mine. We could call for help . . .’

  ‘I left it in the car, but we’ll be okay up here,’ Jude told her. ‘The tide can’t come up this high. Though we’ll be here for a little while.’

  ‘How long? I’m sorry – I don’t know anything about tides!’

  ‘I don’t know. I guess about six hours . . .’

  ‘Six hours!’

  ‘Unless someone sees us here before then. We’ll have to keep our eyes peeled and wave for help if we see any boats or anything.’

  ‘Oh, I’m so sorry, Jude. I shouldn’t have dragged you down here. I’m wasting six of your precious hours!’

  Jude didn’t want to freak Summer out by telling her that they’d probably be the best six hours he’d spent in his entire life.

  Chapter Fourteen

  JERSEY, SATURDAY

  SUMMER

  ‘I can understand that,’ Summer said. She and Jude were sitting against a wall, trying to hide from the wind, which seemed to have picked up further with the change of tide. They were distracting themselves by talking. It seemed like the only thing to do to while away the time.

  ‘You can? It felt like such a cop-out, leaving teaching just because of what happened with one student.’

  ‘It was a big deal! You were badly hurt – physically and emotionally. Your heart wasn’t in it any more. You can’t do a job like that without your heart being in it. My mum was my teacher and I always knew she was one hundred per cent committed. I didn’t go to school.’

  ‘You’re joking!’

  ‘No, seriously. My parents are old hippies. We travelled around all through my childhood so my mum just home-schooled me. And before you say anything, no, I’m not scarred for life by my strange upbringing!’

  ‘I was going to say that sounds wonderful! I never liked school much.’

  ‘So what made you become a teacher then?’

  ‘It was because of Mrs Carter. I had a huge crush on her. We all did. She was our English teacher in sixth form. But as well as being absurdly attractive, she was captivating when she discussed her subject. She sparked in me, for the first time, a genuine interest in learning and reading. I wanted to be like that. It sounds really lame, but I wanted to try to make a difference.’

  ‘It’s not lame at all. It’s wonderful to be so optimistic.’

  ‘Well, I was back then. Life’s changed me.’

  ‘It has a habit of doing that. But change is good. Change keeps us fresh.’

  ‘I didn’t feel fresh until the diagnosis. I felt jaded. But now . . . well, life just feels so different. There was this old chap I got talking to at the hospital who really brought it all home to me. I mean, obviously life is an amazing gift, but it’s like I’ve only just realised how much I’ve been squandering it. That’s a Daisy word. My sister.’

  ‘You have siblings?’

  ‘Just the one.’

  ‘I’d have loved that. I’m an only child. I have twin boys and I’ve always been glad for them that they have each other.’

  ‘How old are they?’

  ‘Twenty!’

  Jude raised his eyebrows. ‘You must have been about fourteen when you had them!’

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ Summer laughed. ‘I was eighteen!’

  ‘But so young . . . Is that why you got married?’

  ‘Yes . . . a shotgun wedding. I guess it’s amazing it’s lasted this long.’

  Jude looked like he was about to reply when Summer saw his eyes fix on something in the distance. ‘Look!’ he said, pointing. ‘The coastguards! Someone must have seen us and given them a call. I guess we’d better wave to them.’

  ‘Thank goodness!’ Summer said. But as she was helped on to the boat she realised that, while relieved they were heading back to the safety and warmth of dry land, she was surprisingly sorry that she would never see this man – this attractive, dying man – again.

  Summer was back at Mandla but she couldn’t settle. She couldn’t stop thinking about Jude’s face when they’d said goodbye after he’d driven her along the road to Sylvie’s. It was f
unny, but she’d thought he’d looked almost like he was about to cry when he’d reached across to the passenger seat to kiss her cheek. She’d felt quite emotional herself. ‘Goodbye,’ he’d said in a husky voice.

  ‘Bye, Jude,’ Summer had replied, a lump in her throat. She’d unlocked the front door and then turned back, thinking she should have invited him in for a drink, but his car had gone.

  Summer was pacing the living room, nibbling her nails, when the house phone rang, making her jump.

  ‘Hello?’ she answered, expecting it to be for Sylvie.

  ‘Hoorah, I’ve got you. I tried you a couple of times today!’ It was Tilly. ‘Where’ve you been?’ she asked.

  Summer told her the whole saga.

  ‘Good heavens, what adventures you’re having! And I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but you’re not the only one. I’m afraid Seth’s having an affair. I wanted to tell you the other day but I was interrupted by the postman.’

  Summer was shocked. She sat down on a nearby chair with a thud. ‘And that’s the reason he wanted a break? But why not just end it completely? Are you sure?’

  ‘I’m positive. I saw him in the churchyard, getting very frisky with Barbara Robinson.’

  ‘Barbara! But she’s at least ten years older than him! I’d have thought it’d be someone like that pretty young French teacher if anyone!’

  ‘I know, it’s absurd, but I have heard tales about her.’

  ‘What sort of tales?’

  ‘Oh, you don’t want to know!’

  ‘Yes I do!’

  Tilly sighed. ‘Let’s just say she has a reputation for being rather adventurous in the bedroom. Ever since she and Reg divorced, she’s been rampant. Up until now she’s been using dating sites but . . . well . . .’

  ‘Now she’s sunk her teeth into Seth. Did he realise that you’d seen them?’

  ‘Oh yes! He came round to see me later in the day. He didn’t even deny it. But he begged me not to tell you.’

  ‘Well, I’m glad you did.’

  ‘Are you going to speak to him?’

  Summer thought about it. ‘No. No – we had a pact not to speak for six months and I’m going to stick to that. What he gets up to in that time . . . Well, let’s just say we’ll deal with it all after the break is over.’

  They said their goodbyes, Tilly full of apologies, but Summer was actually grateful. After all, if Seth was having an affair, it put everything into a different perspective. She found her mobile and typed out a message.

  It was really good to meet you today, Jude. I still can’t believe the tide caught us out like that! If you fancy meeting up for a drink or something to eat some time, let me know . . . (And I can tell you’re an honourable guy, so just so you know – I’ve found out my husband’s having an affair.)

  Too much information? Summer hesitated, but before she could have second thoughts she pressed ‘send’. She received a reply less than a minute later. She smiled ruefully as she realised poor Jude didn’t have time for the usual dating rules. It was great to meet you too! How about I take you out for dinner tomorrow night? To say thank you.

  Thank you for what? Summer replied.

  For making me feel alive.

  Chapter Fifteen

  JERSEY, SUNDAY

  JUDE

  Jude was agonising over where to take Summer for dinner. She didn’t seem like the sort of person who would enjoy anywhere too fancy, and yet there was an understated sophistication about her – perhaps the result of her bohemian upbringing – that made him immediately discount any of the chain restaurants. In the end he rang Eddie for advice.

  ‘Pizza Express?’ he suggested.

  ‘No, it’s a chain. She’s too free-spirited.’

  Eddie laughed. ‘What kind of food does she like?’

  Jude racked his brains. ‘She said she was into healthy eating usually, but she devoured all the biscuits I took to the lighthouse. And I think she said she was a pescatarian . . .’

  ‘You mean she only eats fish?’ Eddie asked, sounding aghast.

  ‘Don’t be stupid. It’s like a vegetarian so they don’t eat meat but they do eat fish.’

  ‘Is she a hippy?’ Eddie sounded wary.

  ‘Not exactly. Her parents are but she’s . . . she’s just amazing.’

  ‘Well, she must be – I’ve never known you to act like this. Look, mate, why don’t you just take her to that little café down on the beach at La Pulente where you can bring your own booze. Nice and relaxed, you can watch the sun set. If the date’s a disaster you don’t have to stay long.’

  ‘It’s not really a date.’

  ‘Yeah, whatever,’ Eddie said disbelievingly. ‘Have fun, won’t you, and Cat says she wants a full report tomorrow.’

  Jude smiled. ‘Tell her I doubt there’ll be much to report. Thanks for the advice – I hadn’t thought of it, but it’s perfect.’

  ‘No worries, have a good one.’

  The next problem was what to wear. Then Jude remembered about all his new clothes and was suddenly grateful to Daisy for frogmarching him round London. He picked out some nice jeans that – while brand new – looked suitably worn and faded, and a checked Superdry shirt that put him in mind of barn dances, but which Daisy had assured him was just right for ‘casual’.

  He arrived five minutes early, carrying a cooler bag full of alcohol. He hadn’t known what Summer might like to drink so he’d covered all areas with champagne, white wine and some bottles of beer. He hadn’t expected Summer to be there yet but he spotted her as soon as he made his way down the slipway. She was sitting at a picnic table wearing some kind of cute little mini-dress, playing with her necklace and staring out to sea. The sight of her made him catch his breath.

  ‘The sun was just about to set,’ she said as Jude approached. ‘Then a cloud covered it over! It’s still beautiful, though.’

  ‘So are you,’ Jude said, forgetting his promise to himself to play it cool. He thought Summer would laugh off his remark, embarrassed, but she leant forward and kissed his cheek, lingering slightly before leaning back again. The kiss would have looked like a completely run-of-the-mill greeting kiss to anyone looking at them, and yet Jude felt something ignite between them – a chemistry that could only possibly be felt and not explained. All his senses suddenly sharpened. The beach scene in front of him was like something from a Jack Vettriano picture. He could smell frying garlic wafting in their direction, making his mouth water. The sound of the waves on an incoming tide seemed clear and loud; the first sip of his beer tasted like nectar. And Summer’s touch, when she reached out to take a beer from him and their hands accidentally brushed (he noticed she was no longer wearing her wedding ring), was . . . indefinable.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Summer said, after the clash of hands. ‘Actually, I’m not,’ she amended. ‘That feeling – your hand, my hand. It’s like when you’re wearing rubber soles on your shoes and closing the car door gives you a tiny electric shock.’

  Not indefinable after all. She was exactly right. After that the food became unimportant, though it turned out to be delicious. Having scraped their plates clean and drunk all the beer, Summer said it was time she headed back to Mandla.

  ‘It’s a nice name for a house – Mandla,’ Jude remarked.

  ‘It’s named after a favourite place of my aunt’s in India. Her spiritual home. It’s only round the corner, as you know. Do you want to walk back with me and get a cab home from there? We could have coffee?’

  ‘I’d love to,’ agreed Jude, and they started to make their way up from the beach, Jude using his phone as a torch.

  Within ten minutes they’d reached the cottage and, once inside, Summer busied herself making the drinks while Jude went through to the living room. Summer joined him with the mugs and found him rifling through Sylvie’s CDs.

  ‘Hazel O’Connor. I haven’t listened to her for years. My mum loves her.’

  ‘Put it on,’ Summer said, sitting down on one of the sofas. She sta
rted to sip her tea while Jude drank his coffee on the floor beside the stereo, then – listening to the words of ‘Will You?’ – they smiled slowly at each other. By the time the song reached the saxophone interlude, their drinks had been abandoned.

  Jude felt a moment of nerves when their lips met. It had been a long while since he’d last had any physical relationship with anyone. He wondered if Summer felt as anxious as him.

  ‘It . . . it’s been a while,’ Jude said, feeling embarrassed.

  ‘Me too,’ Summer murmured. ‘I haven’t had sex for a year. I guess I should have realised sooner that things weren’t that great with Seth.’

  ‘So we’re both like born-again virgins,’ Jude smiled, unbuttoning his shirt. He saw Summer’s eyes clock the scar on his stomach where he’d been stabbed and felt self-conscious.

  But, ‘I’m sure we’ll manage,’ Summer replied, reaching out to touch his scar gently. ‘And if it’s a disaster, we’ll just try again.’

  Jude laughed, but it turned out it wasn’t a disaster at all, and when he came across the three-quarter-full mugs the following morning, one of them with Summer’s pendant looped around it, he knew for certain that he’d fallen well and truly in love.

  Chapter Sixteen

  JERSEY, A WEEK LATER

  SUMMER

  Summer had expected to feel guilty after being with Jude but there was something that felt so absolutely right about their connection that she simply didn’t. She would have done, she was sure, if she hadn’t known about Barbara, but – as it was – it seemed fair enough.

  She’d observed Jude over breakfast the following morning, already completely smitten as she admired how lovely his face looked so early in the day. She had a real thing about his eyebrows. They were naturally such a great shape – thick but not heavy, and brownish-blonde.

  ‘What are you doing today?’ she’d asked, watching him deftly peel a mango and cut it into neat slices.

  ‘Flat-hunting,’ he’d told her.

  ‘What’s wrong with your current place?’