Christmas by the Lighthouse

by Rebecca Boxall

  After their stroll through town, they headed back to Jude’s to collect his car (Eddie had borrowed it the day before and returned it to the flat rather than Petit Port – fortunately, it now turned out) and make the return journey to the hotel to collect their bags and then to Mandla. On the way back, Summer spotted a signpost.

  ‘Jude, look – the animal shelter’s up that lane. Why don’t we turn back and see if they’ve got a rescue dog? That’s on your list, isn’t it?’

  Jude pulled over. ‘Well, it is, but I didn’t think I’d really achieve that one. It’s not fair on the poor animal, is it? I mean, if I’m not going to be around for much longer . . .’

  ‘But there’ll be two of us getting the dog,’ Summer said gently. ‘I promise – I’ll take care of it, if we find one. I know Sylvie won’t mind – she’s a huge animal lover, always taking in strays wherever she is in the world.’

  ‘Summer, that would be amazing! I’ve always wanted a pet but my parents thought they’d be too much of a tie and it didn’t seem fair when I was working full-time.’

  ‘And I’ve always wanted one, too, but Seth’s allergic.’

  ‘But what if you go back to him . . .’

  ‘Jude, I’m not going back to him. I was thinking about it, after you asked last night. The fact is, I’ve fallen completely in love with you and entirely out of love with him. I couldn’t go back now . . .’

  Jude couldn’t believe his luck and yet his bad luck, too. How bittersweet it all was. ‘Are you going to tell him?’

  ‘Not now. I know it’s bad, but there’s scope for it to all get horribly dramatic. I mean, given that he’s now with Barbara, it would probably all be fine, but I don’t want to risk telling him for the moment. He might end up coming over here or something. I don’t want anything to interfere with our time together, not for now. When the six months is up, whatever your situation is, I’ll head back and tell him we’re finished, then I’ll come straight over here again. For the moment, though, I’m going to let sleeping dogs lie.’

  Jude smiled, feeling immense relief. She’d picked him, after all, and, even if there couldn’t be a long future for them, he was glad he knew she’d chosen him over Seth. ‘Well, talking of sleeping dogs,’ he said, and he swung the car back so they could take the lane up towards the shelter.

  An hour later they were back in the car with their new charge, having fallen instantly in love with a black Labrador called Prinny.

  ‘Prince, actually, but we call him Prinny,’ the lady had told them. ‘He was born on the twenty-second of July 2013 – the same day as Prince George, hence the name. He’s young, but sadly he has a condition that makes him seem much older. He’s got quite a short life expectancy, I’m afraid, which is why nobody’s been interested in giving him a home. They don’t want to get attached, only to lose him.’

  Jude saw that Summer’s eyes had filled with tears. ‘Poor boy, we’re in the same boat,’ Jude told the dog, stroking his silky fur. He had enormous, soft brown eyes and instantly proffered a paw first to Jude and then to Summer. That was it – they simply had to have him.

  ‘I can’t believe I’ve fallen in love with two men who are going to leave me,’ Summer said sadly as they arrived back at Mandla and settled Prinny into his new home.

  ‘But not yet,’ Jude said, pulling her into a hug to hide the emotion he knew must be written all over his face. ‘Not yet.’

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  JUDE’S BUCKET LIST:

  7. TAKE BALLET LESSONS

  They were comfortable enough with each other now to take their lenses out in the early evening and wear their glasses instead, a relief as the constant sunshine seemed to make their eyes more tired than usual. They were ensconced on the sofa one evening watching Great Canal Journeys.

  ‘How long have you worn specs for?’ Jude asked, passing a bowl of popcorn to Summer. She was sitting at right angles to him, her tanned feet in his lap, while Prinny lay on the hearthrug.

  ‘Since I was a teenager. How about you?’

  ‘I was younger – about seven or eight.’

  ‘Did it bother you?’

  ‘Not at first, but I did get teased a bit at secondary school and it was tricky with my sport, so I got contacts when I was about fourteen.’

  ‘I only started wearing lenses when we moved back from Arizona when I was sixteen. For me, it was down to the fact that I kept losing my glasses! I always was a scatterbrain. Luckily I was never teased about it, but then I never went to school. I can never understand why kids get a tough time for wearing glasses.’

  ‘I guess those of us who wear them tend to feel a little bit different and low in confidence, so we’re prime targets. And kids – older ones, anyway – always seem to feel threatened by anyone who’s a bit different, like it’s a threat to them in some inexplicable way. But wearing glasses wasn’t the worst thing I was teased for . . .’

  ‘No? What was then?’ asked Summer, turning down the volume on the TV.

  ‘When I was about thirteen I was probably at my most dorky, although I was playing rugby so I wasn’t considered a complete nerd. Anyway, one day we had a ballet company come to the school to perform. Most of my mates laughed the whole way through it, distracted by the men’s packages in the white tights, but I was mesmerised. I was blown away, not just by the beauty of it, but by the strength.

  ‘The following week a teacher from the nearby girls’ school said she was going to start ballet classes on a Tuesday evening and she was looking for male and female students. There was this sign up about it and I took note of the time of the first class and didn’t mention it to anyone. When the day arrived I was so nervous, but I went along. I wasn’t really expecting any other boys to be there, and there weren’t. The teacher was thrilled I’d turned up and most of the girls were sweet and friendly. But one girl – Julie, she was called . . . She kept whispering behind her hand with one of her friends and laughing at me as I tried my best to master a plié.

  ‘I should have known my secret would never be kept and, of course, Julie went straight home and told her brother, who was a fantastic rugby player – in the firsts at my school. He was also a complete sadist. The day after my ballet class I had my head shoved down the loo, my lunch nicked and basically my self-esteem squashed into the ground. I was called Fairy Boy for at least a year, when thankfully Julie’s brother was expelled and I began to blend into the background once again.’

  ‘Poor boy – I could cry! So what happened with the lessons then? Did you ever go again?’

  ‘Of course not!’

  ‘Are they on your bucket list?’ asked Summer, and Jude was quiet, then smiled. ‘They are, aren’t they?’

  ‘Yep, although – a bit like getting a rescue dog – I didn’t really think I’d actually go . . . I wouldn’t know where to find a class, for one thing.’

  ‘I think I might know, actually . . .’

  ‘What? But you’re not even local!’

  ‘I know, but when we were at the Co-op yesterday I saw a notice about adult lessons at the parish hall in St Ouen’s. A lady called Madame Vivier runs them. I guess it jumped out at me, as I’ve always wanted to try ballet too. My upbringing was way too freestyle for anything so disciplined. Shall we see if we can join the class together?’

  ‘Why not?’ Jude grinned. ‘It’ll be fun. But don’t you dare laugh at me in my white tights!’

  ‘Ha ha, you’re not wearing white tights on my watch, thank you very much. Some jogging bottoms will do you nicely. Now let’s get another drink.’

  As it turned out, they enjoyed quite a few more drinks and the next morning they felt lazy, so decided to idle in bed after Prinny had been let out for his morning business. He was lying at the end of the bed, snoring gently, while Jude and Summer tried to finish the previous day’s crossword. They were just pondering the final clue when there was a knock at the door. They both jumped, entirely unused to any callers, though Prinny didn’t stir.

  ‘I’d better
go,’ said Summer, and she wrapped her dressing gown round her and went to the door.

  ‘Very good morning to you, my dear!’ the man at the door chirped. Summer didn’t have a clue who he was but she recognised him immediately as someone who might be described as ‘larger than life’. ‘Dennis Gallichan!’ the man said, introducing himself. ‘Own the new holiday apartments just along the road. Great buddies with Sylvie. She’s always awfully generous with the whisky bottle, ho ho!’

  ‘Ah, Dennis – yes, she’s mentioned you! Would you like to come in? I don’t have any whisky but you’re welcome to have a coffee!’

  ‘Ha ha! Even I don’t touch a drop till it’s midday in France, bah ha! A coffee would be most kind, thank you, my dear. Just thought I’d pop in and say hi-de-hi. Been meaning to all summer but it’s been a busy old time of late, what with the problems with Mimsy.’

  Summer realised Dennis was one of those people who dropped their friends’ names into conversation as if you knew them. ‘Mimsy?’ she asked, popping the kettle on.

  ‘Yes, my dear old Lab. She got run over by one of those heinous boy racers that charge up and down these lanes out west – “hoons”, my Aussie pal would call them. It was touch and go for a while but she’s pulled through, thank goodness. Can’t imagine life without my dear Mims.’

  ‘I’m glad she’s okay. We’ve got a Lab, too,’ Summer said, and at that moment Prinny hobbled through, with Jude trailing after him carrying the paper. He discarded it on the table.

  ‘Squire! Very nice to meet you!’ Dennis said to Jude, heaving his rotund figure up from the chair he’d just seated himself on to shake Jude’s hand. He then crouched down, with considerable effort. ‘And jolly pleased to meet you too, dear fellow,’ he said, giving Prinny a good rub.

  ‘This is Dennis, a friend of Sylvie’s,’ Summer explained to Jude. ‘This is my boyfriend, Jude,’ she added, turning back to Dennis and handing him his coffee. She realised it was the first time she’d introduced Jude as her boyfriend. It felt like such an immature word, but ‘lover’ seemed a bit racy and ‘partner’ too formal.

  ‘Now, let me work this out,’ said Dennis, taking a sip of his drink. ‘You’re the niece who’s staying here for a few months. Hmmm, husband trouble, Sylvie said . . . Is it all over then, now?’

  ‘Yes, it sort of is,’ Summer replied. Then, keen to move the conversation on, she began to ask Dennis all about himself and the island. He was clearly a proud islander and was more than happy to hold forth about the beauty and history of the place – in quite some detail. Summer spotted Jude’s eyes starting to glaze over and decided that, if she didn’t take some action, Dennis would be ready for his first drink of the day.

  ‘It’s all so interesting,’ Summer told him. ‘But we really ought to take Prinny for a walk in a minute. He’ll be getting restless soon.’

  Dennis looked at Prinny, who looked anything but restless as he lay dozily in his bed. But, to his credit, he took his cue. ‘Right-o, best be off – get home to check on Mimsy. Wife died at Christmas. Not so good at fending for myself. Going to be slipping down the plughole soon if I lose any more weight!’ he chortled, standing up and rubbing his vast tummy.

  Summer couldn’t help herself – she felt sorry for him. It was clear that underneath the cheeriness he was lonely without his wife. ‘Come and join us for supper one night,’ she said, and she felt Jude shoot her a glance. ‘Let me have your number and we’ll get something organised.’

  ‘Too kind, too kind!’ Dennis replied, and he proffered a business card slipped from his shirt breast pocket. ‘Most obliged! Toodle-pip!’

  He left, popping his head back round the door a moment later. ‘Inedible, by the way!’ Jude and Summer looked at him, confused. ‘The last clue! The crossword! Bah ha ha!’

  He was gone. Jude bundled Summer into a cuddle. ‘You are too soft-hearted!’ he admonished.

  ‘But he’s sweet really. I know, a bit of a bore, but he’s a dog lover at least! And he’s good at the crossword. That clue was really bugging me!’

  ‘True enough. We’d better get some decent booze in. He looks like a real bon viveur to me.’

  ‘There you go!’ Summer smiled. ‘I’m not the only soft-hearted one around here! Now, we’d better get dressed and take our restless hound for a walk.’

  Prinny jumped up, in Pavlovian fashion, at the word ‘walk’, then yawned loudly and took himself back to bed.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  JUDE’S BUCKET LIST:

  8. A POST-COITAL CIGARETTE

  The day after the visit from Dennis had been another bad one for Jude – the worst yet. It had knocked him for six for forty-eight hours. But it was now a few days later and he felt much better again. It was about nine in the morning and he was enjoying, or perhaps a better word was ‘experiencing’, his first ever post-coital cigarette.

  ‘How is it?’ asked Summer. She’d never been a smoker but wasn’t averse to the smell of cigarette smoke so she was quite happy to relax in the bed next to Jude while he puffed away. Seth would never have contemplated having a cigarette, being dreadfully asthmatic, so she hadn’t been a passive smoker for a long time – not since she was a kid, when her dad had smoked his roll-ups around her.

  Jude coughed. ‘Actually, it’s disgusting!’ he admitted, quite pleased that he wasn’t going to start up a twenty-a-day habit for the last months of his life. ‘Let me get rid of it and clean my teeth.’ Summer laughed and Jude pottered off to the kitchen to dispose of the offending fag then fuss Prinny, who was happily ensconced in his bed. Jude had already let him out earlier in the morning. Then he padded along to the bathroom to clean his teeth. He was just rinsing his toothbrush when he heard Summer talking to someone. Strange. He went back through to the bedroom.

  ‘Here he is now,’ said Summer, and she passed over the phone. She looked a bit funny.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Jude and, without thinking, he returned to the bathroom with the handset. The phone so rarely rang for him (unlike Summer, who often spoke to her boys or occasionally her friend Tilly), he wasn’t sure where to take the call. After five minutes, he re-emerged. Summer was quiet.

  ‘Please don’t think I’m an eavesdropper,’ she said eventually, ‘but the acoustics in the bathroom made your voice echo. Who is she? Cat?’

  ‘Are you jealous?’ Jude teased, realising the cause of Summer’s unusually subdued countenance.

  Summer looked startled. ‘Do you know, I think I might be! I’ve never felt jealous before . . . Do I have reason to be? She sounded very sexy. And I heard you arrange to meet her tonight.’

  ‘Not just me – you as well. And you’ve no reason to worry,’ Jude smiled. ‘She’s just my friend Eddie’s girlfriend. She’s the one who’s a journalist – I’ve told you about her. She was really supportive when I first got the news about the brain tumour. They’ve been away visiting her family in Portugal, but they’re back now and she wants to meet you. Would you mind getting together with them tonight?’

  ‘Not at all,’ Summer replied, looking relieved. ‘I’m sorry about that. What a horrible green-eyed monster!’

  ‘You’re not the only one. Every time I think about Seth I feel sick. Tell me about him.’

  ‘What do you want to know?’

  ‘Well, for starters, what does he look like?’

  ‘Tall, dark and handsome.’ Jude looked aghast and Summer giggled. ‘But also quite frowny. He’s such a serious person – solemn. Always looking a bit cross, though he doesn’t verbally complain all that much. He has a temper, though. He doesn’t shout or anything, but he gets physically violent. Not with me or the boys,’ Summer quickly added, seeing Jude’s face. ‘But he’ll suddenly make this strange noise and throw a plate across the room. Generally, though, he’s very quiet. Non-communicative really.’

  ‘You’re not painting a very nice picture!’

  ‘I’m not, am I? But that’s because I’m still hurt that he packed me off for six months and is now having it off wi
th Barbara Robinson! Mind you, I’ve cause to be very grateful to him for that now. Anyway, he does have his good points.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘Well, he’s not unkind. As I say, he gets into a filthy temper every so often, which isn’t pleasant, but in fairness it’s usually his mother that provokes him into plate-throwing and half the time I’m tempted to join him. And he’s very talented musically – a brilliant pianist. My friend Tilly is a violinist so they at least have that in common. Otherwise they fight like cat and dog. It’s exhausting. Have you ever had that? Where a friend and lover don’t hit it off?’

  ‘Yep! I thought Miranda was incredibly easy-going and nearly everyone who met her liked her. But Eddie couldn’t stand her. Nor could Cat. I never could work out why.’

  ‘Oh, great! What are they going to think of me? What if they hate me too? Now I’m nervous about tonight!’

  ‘They’ll love you!’ Jude said confidently. ‘Honestly, you don’t need to worry.’

  It turned out they really did. Cat and Summer got on like a house on fire, instantly chatting about their work and the joys and trials of having children while they waited for the pub to serve their supper and the boys discussed football, though Jude was half-listening to the girls, interested in getting a picture of Summer as a mother.

  ‘It’s the sleeping-in I miss,’ Cat complained. ‘They’re up at six every bloody morning – sometimes even earlier at weekends.’

  ‘I remember those years, but it gets better – I promise. They do start sleeping in eventually,’ Summer comforted. ‘The only problem is that it usually coincides with them turning into recluses who barely venture out of their rooms. It’s like that with kids, isn’t it? One problem solved and, hey presto, a different one appears!’

  ‘It’s the hardest job and nothing prepares you, does it? Mind you, my sister’s struggling to get pregnant at the moment and she’d give her right arm for a couple of kids, so she’s always on at me about how grateful I should be.’