A Light Between Oceans Episode 20


Characters from A Light Between Oceans.

Awash with memories, Hattie turned the corner and saw the frontage of Derwent Alexander’s ahead of her.

Her anxiety and fast pace had left her feeling slightly light-headed, and she wondered if it might be better to stop and have a cup of tea to settle her nerves.

There was no time. She tried to push aside the memories of that day when Sandy had first met Mr Van Bakkar.

It had all been achingly sad, yet moving, and she remembered how close she had been to tears.

Then the feeling had changed to one of ominous wariness.

It had been that evening that she had seen Van Bakkar standing with his ear to the door of the Townsends’ room.

She had quickly darted out of sight, bewildered and frightened by what she had seen.

She’d planned to tell Donald as soon as she could, to ask his advice and be given some direction as to what she should do.

Then everything had become hopelessly complicated.

Hattie waited for the traffic to pass, taking the opportunity to pull in some deep breaths.

She crossed the road and opened the door of Derwent Alexander’s, the bell pinging with a sharpness that seemed to pierce her conscience like a poison arrow.

She would just have to hope that her deceit would be for the greater good.

A grey-haired man sat at a desk, a stack of papers in front of him.

He looked up as Hattie entered.

“Good morning,”

“Hello,” Hattie replied a little breathlessly.

She tried to gather her wits as he stood, offering her a chair.

“My name is Hattie Crocker. I own a guesthouse in Belmouth.”

“I see,” he said, taking up a pen and pad.

“I wanted to make an enquiry and, well, I hear a lot on the grapevine.” She laughed a little, but he remained unsmiling.

“And,” she continued bravely, “I know about your firm. One of my guests bought Quay House.”

She could feel herself floundering, but thankfully he perked up.

“Oh, yes. A fine property,” he replied.

“I can’t help feeling partly responsible!” She laughed again, knowing she was taking a chance, but this time he smiled.

“I’m glad it all went through so smoothly.”

“Yes. Well, now it seems that some other people – former guests – are interested in a larger property you have on the market. The lighthouse and cottage?”

“Ah.” He looked wary.

“Anyway, these people live quite far away and wanted to get a clearer picture of the situation before arranging a journey,” she explained.

“I see. Do please tell them to write or phone.” He reached for a card, but again Hattie broke in.

“I’ll do that, but I wondered if you might just give me a little idea as to how things are going with the property?

“It seems I have something of a reputation as an expert on Belmouth history, having lived here a long time.

“The other day an American gentleman came to see me – a Mr Brook?”

Hattie could see he was clearly puzzled and impatient.

“He wanted to know about Belmouth,” she added quickly. “He had a rather capricious thought about buying the lighthouse.”

She laughed, rolling her eyes.

“We talked for a time and it was clear that he has no intention of such a thing.

“He hasn’t found his feet and is casting about with one idea after the other.”

“I see,” the man replied, frowning.

“I wondered if there are any serious potential buyers at the moment?”

He sat back in his chair, his eyebrows raised.

“Well, there are two others. One in particular is keen.”

“How exciting,” Hattie said enthusiastically. “I’m all for change. What does this buyer have in mind for it?”

“He has big plans,” he mused. “A sports centre with a café, and perhaps a small shopping area. A big enterprise.

“He’ll need to get rid of the lighthouse, so that’s something he’s investigating.”

Hattie felt her legs quivering, a film of sweat beneath her clothes.

“How thrilling that would be for the community,” she lied.

“Strange that you should have met Mr Brook. I must say, he seemed a very sensible chap.”

Hattie gathered her basket and handbag.

“Well, I must be off. I’ll let my friends know the situation. Thank you for your time!”

He stood as she scurried out, his face creased with bemused concern.

To be continued…