A Light Between Oceans Episode 26

Sandy sat on the edge of her bed, her mind and heart whirling.
Lucas had spent days trawling through stacks of papers, invoices and letters that his father had filed away.
It seemed odd to Lucas that his father hadn’t destroyed them.
It was clear that his father had spent time in England during the war.
It had to have been during those years that he’d painted the lighthouse.
But why would he have been in Belmouth?
Sandy echoed the question that Lucas had asked as he’d told her all that he’d found out.
More urgent and mysterious had been the question that haunted them both.
Why had Hattie told Lucas that there hadn’t been any artists in Belmouth at that time?
Here was one of extraordinary talent, who had obviously spent time on the beach painting.
Surely he would have been noticed – especially by someone like Hattie.
A Dutchman painting on the beach would hardly have been so commonplace that it would have been forgotten about.
Sandy’s eyes drifted to the photo of her father that sat on her chest of drawers.
Had he known Hans Van Bakkar?
Dad had known and investigated every inch of the beach, and a man sitting at an easel wouldn’t have gone unnoticed.
In fact, Dad might well have spoken to Hans.
Earlier, when she and Lucas had walked out of the hotel and back to Lucas’s car, he’d steered them to a small garden area that separated the building from the car park.
The chilly sea breeze blew her hair every which way, and he turned her to face him, gently brushing the blonde strands back from her forehead, then circling her face in his hands.
“It all feels meant to be,” he said. “Like a miracle.”
He stopped talking then, drawing her closer.
“You’re beautiful, Sandy,” he continued.
“I don’t know what will happen, or how we could make it work with us living on two different sides of the world.
“All I know is that I never want to let you go.”
Then she had melted into the sweetness of his kiss.
Now, Sandy hugged her knees to her chest.
For all that she was confused and disturbed about Hattie, and fearful for the lighthouse and cottage and the foundation of all that she had known, she felt as if a soft blanket of warmth and security had wrapped itself around her.
She gazed into the photo and saw her dad’s face smiling out at her, the lighthouse and cottage behind him, and the beach bathed in sunshine.
Belmouth, 1941
Donald pushed open the door of the lighthouse and stepped out into the wind.
He let his lungs fill with the cold, salty air, clearing his head of the heavy aroma of polish and lubricating oil.
Not that he minded that, as he’d always taken pride in the gleam of his brasswork and the smooth running of every piece of equipment.
It wouldn’t be long until sunset and lighting-up time, then his head would be full of the smell of meths, and that was a different story altogether.
For the last week he’d noticed the man with his easel, and his curiosity had got the better of him.
“His name is Hans Van Bakkar,” Hattie had told him.
“He’s from Holland and seems a nice chap. He’s been great with Sandy.”
“What’s he doing here?” Donald demanded. “Besides painting pictures on the beach.”
“He’s a scientist and is doing some sort of marine research.
“He got more or less trapped here after war broke out, and his wife and son are living somewhere in Holland on a farm.
“He misses them terribly,” Hattie added. “And he’s certainly a keen artist.”
Donald was aware of his gruff tone and deeply regretted it, along with being puzzled and ashamed of himself.
Hattie had been nothing but kind and generous to a fault, looking after Sandy and doing all sorts of things for him.
He had no business talking to her like that. What would he have done without her?
He took another gulp of the cold, clean air, searching his mind.