Christmas by the Lighthouse

by Rebecca Boxall

  Summer’s eyes grew larger than ever. ‘Unless?’ She gripped Jude’s hand.

  ‘The consultant was telling me about some incredible advances in brain surgery across the Atlantic. It wouldn’t be cheap, but there’s the possibility a Canadian surgeon friend of Mr Vibert’s could operate on the tumour using some cutting-edge technology not yet available in Britain. He’s told me not to get my hopes up but this man – Mr Tremblay – has offered to see me. There’s a small chance he may be able to operate. A tiny chance I could beat this tumour after all. Summer, I literally can’t believe it. Can you pinch me?’

  But Summer didn’t pinch him. She rugby-tackled him into the most enormous hug and burst into loud and happy tears.

  Chapter Thirty

  JERSEY, AUGUST

  JUDE

  ‘I don’t know what to do first!’ Jude said, his mind spinning. They’d just got back from the hospital after stopping briefly at Waitrose to stock up on champagne. They were nervously torn between wanting to celebrate and the fear of being overly optimistic.

  ‘It’s like when you’ve just given birth and you really want to just recover from it all but instantly you’re on the phone to everyone telling them the news. But you can’t tell your parents, anyway, as they’re en route, so why not give Daisy a ring and ask her to let everyone else know what’s happening. Then we can get on with cracking open a bottle and making some plans.’

  ‘You are full of good ideas,’ Jude said, and Summer looked at him.

  ‘You look different now, after the news,’ she said. ‘I’ve only known your beautiful face with fear casting a huge shadow over it. Now that shadow’s receded slightly and I’ve realised you’re beyond beautiful. You’re devastatingly gorgeous.’

  ‘Stop it!’ Jude said, his cheeks flushing red as he squeezed Summer’s hand.

  When they got back, Jude rang Daisy while Summer found champagne flutes and opened the bottle, though Jude already felt fluttery and giddy, like he was drunk even though he hadn’t yet had a sip. He watched Summer take her glass to the living room window and peer out of it. As if in celebration of their news, the fog had now lifted to produce, like a magic trick, a clear blue sky.

  With the calls made, they took their drinks on to the terrace and toasted each other and the consultant, and prayed that Mr Tremblay in Canada would be able to help. They were exuberant. They started to gabble at each other, reflecting one moment on their fear that morning, then discussing what might happen next.

  ‘You know – you said something before that’s got me thinking,’ Jude said, looking at Summer a bit shyly.

  ‘I did?’ she said, beaming.

  ‘Uh huh. About that moment when you’ve just given birth. Summer, I didn’t think I’d ever be a father when I received the news about the brain tumour. But now – if by any chance this guy in Canada can cure me – I’d really like us to have a baby.’

  Jude watched Summer’s face and thought he saw a cloud pass over it. But, ‘Of course you do!’ she said. ‘We can discuss all that. But what else? Come on, what about everything else? Your job? Will you go back to it? Or back to teaching? Maybe it’s a bit soon. How long will you need to be in Canada?’

  Jude bit his lip, considering his possibilities. He realised that not everything was going to be straightforward or blissful, even should he achieve the best possible outcome in Canada. But then, that was life, wasn’t it? Life in all its up-and-down glory.

  Before Jude could answer her questions, Summer asked another one. ‘What’s the very best thing of all about this news?’

  ‘Truthfully?’

  ‘Of course!’

  ‘You, Summer. The thought – the glimmer of hope – that tells me that maybe, if I’m very, very lucky, I’ll have a future with you.’

  Chapter Thirty-One

  JERSEY, AUGUST

  THE PARTY

  ‘Jude, I’ve had an idea.’

  ‘What?’ Jude asked as he dried their breakfast dishes.

  ‘Well, your parents arrive today and mine will be here shortly too. You said Daisy and Sam are keen to head over to see us this weekend as well, so why don’t we throw a party? To celebrate. Or is it a bit premature?’ Summer asked, anxiously.

  ‘No, it’s a brilliant idea. An opportunity to rejoice in a bit of hope, at least, and a chance to catch up with everyone before I leave for Canada next week. We can invite all my friends, and Dennis, too. We still haven’t got round to having him over. Do you think you should check with Sylvie?’

  ‘I’m sure she won’t mind – she’s the ultimate party animal – but I’ll give her a quick call anyway, just to check in with her. We can have the party on the terrace if the weather’s good. What’s the forecast?’

  Jude checked his phone. ‘The good weather continues . . .’ he smiled. ‘It must be you. Is it always summer with Summer?’ he asked.

  ‘Not always,’ she laughed. ‘But definitely this year.’

  In the afternoon, Jude and Summer walked along the lane to find Jude’s parents at Dennis’s holiday apartments. Summer felt ridiculously nervous but it was soon clear that, warm and polite though they were with her, their concern was not Jude’s new relationship but his diagnosis. Beryl burst into tears as soon as she hugged Jude and so he quickly told them the news from his recent consultation. They were full of questions and Summer was touched to see the emerging optimism on their faces. They were exactly as she’d imagined they’d be – straightforward, humble and loving.

  Eventually, Jude told them about the party.

  ‘It won’t be too grand, will it?’ asked Beryl, looking concerned. ‘I haven’t brought anything smart to wear!’

  ‘Not grand at all,’ Summer assured her, and Beryl looked at Summer properly, as if finally able to move on to a subject other than Jude’s health.

  ‘I’m so pleased Jude met you,’ Beryl told her. ‘And you’re just as beautiful as he said you were. But kind, too, I can see that. And that’s the most important, isn’t it?’

  Summer adored her parents but she decided then and there that if she’d been able to have any parents other than her own, she’d have chosen Jude’s.

  By seven thirty on Saturday evening, the scene was set for the party. Mandla was shining like a new penny, decorated with fairy lights glittering on the terrace and some vintage bunting Summer had managed to find at a local farm shop. The cottage was shown to its best advantage in flickering candlelight.

  ‘Are you nearly ready?’ Jude asked. Summer turned to look at him. She’d been putting on what she called her ‘party face’, which Jude had laughed about, wondering if she was going to make herself up like a clown. Now, he looked stunned.

  ‘Summer, you look amazing! Your eyes. I’ve never seen them look so . . . so . . .’

  ‘Blue?’ she giggled.

  ‘Blue,’ he agreed. ‘And the dress! Is that one of your retro ones?’

  ‘Yep! My mother’s wedding dress, can you believe it?’ The dress was long and strapless, made of chiffon; it was an ivory colour with enormous red poppies printed on it and was timeless in its relaxed beauty. Summer had paired it with some tan-coloured platform sandals that made her at least three inches taller. She hoped the outfit wasn’t too much.

  The doorbell rang.

  ‘That’ll probably be Mum and Dad,’ said Jude. ‘They said they’d try to get here a little early. They’re over their jet lag now. Poor sods will be jet-lagged all over again next week when we head to Canada. Do you think your parents will make it in time for the party?’

  ‘They’re so vague. They were meant to be here days ago. Goodness knows what’s delayed them, but they won’t miss a party – believe me!’

  For the next twenty minutes Summer and Jude chatted to Jude’s parents, and then all of a sudden, as Summer had expected, her parents arrived in time for the party – making an entrance when their spluttering ancient camper van (the orange one Summer had driven many years before) arrived outside the cottage with a bang. Hearing the noise,
Summer dragged Jude out to the front of the house with her.

  ‘Vita! Frank!’ she said as they hopped out of the van. ‘Come and meet Jude!’

  Jude tried to shake hands but Vita just squeezed him into an enormous hug and then Frank hugged him too, clapping him soundly on the back.

  ‘So you’re Summer’s new man?’ said Vita, taking him in. ‘We want to hear all about how you met.’

  ‘I’ll tell you,’ Summer replied. ‘But first come inside and grab a drink . . .’

  Jude greeted guests while Summer filled her parents in on the whole saga, finishing off with the good news about the Canadian surgeon.

  ‘Goodness!’ Vita said as she drained her first glass of fizz. ‘What an adventure you’ve been having! I’m glad,’ she admitted. ‘I’ve always thought you were like a caged animal in that prep school. You needed to get away and actually live a little.’

  ‘What about Seth?’ Frank asked, but before Summer could answer, Daisy and Sam arrived, looking and smelling divine. Sam was introduced to Jude’s parents, who seemed to take her relationship with Daisy in their stride, and then the girls caught the eye of Jude’s single friends – Lee and Ben – who began a fruitless mission to seduce them. Observing the scene with an amused look on her face was Di, who looked positively regal in a long purple dress. She’d had her hair and nails done for the occasion and it was heart-warming to imagine the great care she’d gone to for a rare evening out.

  ‘Some mango for you!’ Jude said, bringing her a bowl of neatly sliced fruit he’d prepared and sitting down beside her. Summer headed over to join them.

  ‘Oh, you angel!’ Di said, immediately tucking in, using the small fork Jude had supplied. ‘I adore your dog,’ she said after she’d swallowed a mouthful. ‘What a dear thing.’ Prinny looked at her bashfully.

  ‘Prinny, he’s called. I know – he’s a lovely boy. So placid.’

  ‘I only ever ’ad a dog once. A beautiful border collie called Jess. Me ’usband Glen gave ’er to me after the war. But I was so distraught when she died some years later that I told meself I’d never get a pet again.’

  ‘That’s the only problem. Prinny has a short life expectancy too,’ Jude admitted.

  ‘Well, perhaps ’e’ll defy the odds, just like you will,’ Di comforted, patting Jude on the knee.

  Dennis was the next to make an entrance. He was dressed in cherry-red trousers and a pale-blue shirt with buttons that strained worryingly every time he laughed – which was often. It was clear Dennis was the ultimate party guest, full of stories and keen to banter with everyone on the terrace. Summer introduced him to her parents and he seemed instantly taken with Vita, but Frank appeared entirely unfazed by Dennis’s obvious pursuit. Vita had always enjoyed a bit of flattery and attention and Frank was more than happy to allow her this small pleasure. He settled down on a wooden chair with a glass of champagne and necked a couple of his pills (strictly not to be mixed with alcohol).

  ‘Frank!’ Summer said, plonking herself down next to him.

  ‘Darling child! How are you? You’re looking sensational.’

  ‘You old charmer,’ Summer laughed.

  ‘You’re in love with him, aren’t you?’ Frank asked as he deftly rolled a cigarette. He lit it, sheltering his lighter from the sea breeze. He inhaled, dragging on it, then exhaling. He observed Jude – who was still chatting to Di – through a haze of smoke.

  Summer’s eyes were drawn to Jude, too, then back to her father, who never looked any different. He’d started to go bald as a very young man so had – with some regret – cut off his long hippy locks and kept his head shaved ever since. His entire face and scalp were deeply tanned, his brow heavy and his eyes hooded, though beneath the heavy lids were eyes as blue and startling as Summer’s. When he looked up it was always a little surprising to find such dazzling eyes beneath the cloak of brow and lids. Her father was the epitome of relaxed – sometimes selfishly so – but he was perceptive. He always had been.

  ‘Completely,’ Summer agreed.

  ‘It might not work, Hoglet,’ Frank said, calling Summer by the pet name he’d given her the moment she was born, when he’d decided she looked just like a baby hedgehog. ‘You know – this visit to the quack in Canada.’

  ‘Frank, he’s not a quack. He’s a pioneering surgeon.’

  ‘Just . . . Hoglet, try not to get your hopes up too much. I know what you’re like. Such an optimist, just like your mother. But disappointment is so crushing. I’m not saying negativity is any better, but just try to be realistic.’ Frank stubbed out the cigarette in a nearby ashtray and placed a hand over Summer’s.

  Summer nodded, though his words weren’t exactly welcome. She knew he meant well. Frank always did. And what he said made sense, of course it did. But his timing was off, as it often was. This was the party – the celebration. Realism could come later. ‘Frank, I’d better go and mingle.’

  ‘Go and break up Vita and the big guy, will you?’

  Summer saw Dennis pouring Vita another glass of champagne and smiled. ‘Will do!’ she laughed, and she headed in their direction.

  ‘Vita,’ she said, interrupting. ‘Sorry, Dennis, but she has to come and meet Jude’s parents. Come on,’ she said, pulling Vita away from Dennis, who looked extremely disappointed. He consoled himself with another drink and settled for Phyllis Le Feuvre, the cottage cleaner, who was a rather different proposition to Vita, with a wall eye, a floral pinafore and thick bottle-green stockings.

  Summer continued to mingle and it seemed as though Jude and she were engaged in some sort of dance as they each worked the terrace, seeing to everyone else’s needs, smiling at one another every so often and – eventually – finding each other again.

  ‘It’s been a success, hasn’t it?’ Summer said, finally reaching Jude and clinking her glass against his. The evening was still warm despite it being so late and the music and chatter created a pleasant hum. They were beside the speaker now, and one of Jude’s favourite tunes began.

  ‘Come here,’ he said, and they embraced and moved gently in each other’s arms as they listened to the Nothing But Thieves number, ‘Last Orders’.

  ‘It’s so bleak, this song,’ said Summer. ‘We should be dancing to something sunnier.’

  ‘But it’s my favourite. Dark, yet there’s lightness to it, too. Like my situation right now. Summer, do you think this trip to Canada’s going to be worth it?’

  ‘Whatever the outcome, it’ll be worth it,’ she told him. ‘Because we’ll know then.’

  ‘Know what?’

  ‘That we tried,’ she said, nuzzling into Jude’s shoulder. ‘That we tried everything.’

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  CANADA, SEPTEMBER

  JUDE

  It was a long month in a place that, in different circumstances, would have seduced Jude sufficiently to make him move there. He was like a businessman who flies to the azure shores of the Caribbean only to find himself spending the entire time in air-conditioned conference centres.

  Summer didn’t go with him. He’d wanted her to, but she’d said it was a journey – both literal and spiritual – that he needed to undertake with just his parents. It was agonising being apart, but within the first week he’d received the good news that – at great cost (most of which was to be met by his generous parents) – he was eligible for the operation. After that, his focus was so completely zoned in on the procedure and whether or not it would be successful that he hadn’t much head space left for anything else.

  Eventually the day of the operation arrived and it was pretty much a blur for Jude, as were the days that followed. He’d rather hoped that he’d immediately feel like a new man, but there were a number of gruelling side effects that struck him pretty quickly. Initially, very transient effects like a dry mouth and an incredible thirst from the breathing tube. But then there were dizzy spells, nausea, an inability to concentrate, scalp pain, exhaustion and, bizarrely, an incredibly sensitive sense of smell (he’d had
to ask his father to change his socks and his mother to chew some gum). It was clear the journey was far from over.

  But after a post-operative meeting with Mr Tremblay, he received the news he’d been hoping to hear. He FaceTimed Summer immediately afterwards.

  ‘And?’ Summer asked, clearly on tenterhooks. She swore she’d started to go grey since Jude had disappeared to Canada, though he couldn’t see it himself – her hair looked as dark and lustrous as usual.

  ‘It’s been a success!’ Jude told her. ‘I mean, the medics are very cautious about calling it a cure, as brain tumours are notoriously cockroach-like in their tendency to reappear, but with this technology the surgeon used he was able to get rid of the tumour completely and, as far as he can tell, all cancerous cells.’

  ‘Jude, that’s incredible! I’m so happy! And, for the record, your head looks pretty amazing shaved. You look like Wentworth Miller from Prison Break!’

  Jude laughed. ‘Apart from all the metal staples! My equivalent to his tattoos, maybe!’

  ‘So what happens next?’ Summer asked, her eyes bright with excitement. Before he could reply, Vita and Frank appeared on screen.

  ‘We’ve been sending you good vibes!’ Vita called. ‘So, so happy it’s worked! Frank’s got some fantastic painkillers for you if you need them when you get back, haven’t you, darling?’

  ‘Totally,’ Frank agreed. ‘Ace news, mate. Completely cool. Summer’s been a nightmare. I’ve never known her so tetchy.’ Summer thumped Frank on the arm.

  ‘Bugger off!’ she told them now and they vanished, chuckling as they drifted off to another room. ‘Sorry about that!’

  ‘No probs,’ said Jude. ‘But I can’t remember what you asked me now! That keeps happening. I get halfway through a sentence and I’ve no idea what I was going to say next. Apparently it’s normal.’

  ‘Sounds like me on a good day!’ Summer laughed. ‘I just wondered what’s going to happen next?’ she asked again.

  ‘The surgeon reckons I’ll be well enough to fly about a week from now, so we’re going to book the return flights once we know for sure. Once I’m back in Jersey it’ll be a question of taking it easy for a while and having regular check-ups, just to make sure the tumour doesn’t reappear. But the surgeon’s “cautiously optimistic”.’