A Light Between Oceans Episode 27
When Donald’s wife died, he’d thought he would drown in grief.
It had been as if everything inside him, apart from his love for Sandy, had shut down.
Lately Hattie had been hounding him about his painting, stirring things up and poking her nose into his business.
The moment those thoughts entered his mind, he knew with the greatest shame that they were untrue. Hounding was hardly the word.
Still, it was best to keep all that buried. It was gone for ever.
So why did he have any interest at all in this man and his easel?
There were no laws against painting on the beach.
Now, Donald found himself walking across the shingle towards him.
“Good afternoon.”
Mr Van Bakkar had turned and, seeing Donald walking towards him, had set down his brush and stood up.
“Hello,” Donald greeted him. “Sorry to disturb you.”
“Not at all. I am about to finish for the afternoon.
“The light is fading and I’ve work I should be doing.”
“I’m acquainted with Hattie Crocker. I gather you are staying at her guesthouse. Mr Van Bakkar, is it?”
“Yes.” Hans stretched out a hand for Donald to shake.
“How do you do, Mr Ashford? It is apparent that Miss Crocker has been speaking to each of us.”
They shook and Donald glanced at the painting.
“I see that you manage to find time for a hobby along with your work. Have you always painted?”
Mr Van Bakkar laughed.
“I believe you are asking because it looks the work of a beginner?” he joked.
“But I’m afraid the answer is yes. I have always loved to paint and draw.”
Donald fell silent as he studied the canvas.
“May I ask if you are interested in art, Mr Ashford?” Mr Van Bakkar asked.
“I expect that you are an admirer of nature’s creations instead.” He shook his head.
“The sea – it is impossible for me to capture it. I cannot find the way.”
“It’s famously difficult,” Donald replied.
He could see that there was too much blue and green and not enough white and grey tones.
But the painting certainly had promise – that was clear.
“You are looking at my work with great care,” Mr Van Bakkar ventured.
“I cannot help wondering your thoughts, especially as you’re doubtless an expert on how the sea looks.”
His voice was quiet and serious as Donald gazed at the painting.
“The sea changes at every moment, and what is under the water will affect the colours and textures.”
Donald sounded almost brusque at first, but as he looked from the painting to the sea itself, his tone softened.
“In looking at water we’re looking through a window to what lies beneath the surface.
“There are waves underneath waves, and the depth of the water varies all the time.
“There are so many layers of colour, ever changing,” he finished.
Mr Van Bakkar stared at him.
“You speak not just as a man of the sea. Surely you, too, are an artist?” he asked. “I am guessing a very fine one.”
Donald waved his hand dismissively.
“I once painted a bit, but no longer. I like what you have done. Hardly the work of a beginner, from what I can see.
“Good to meet you, Mr Van Bakkar. I expect our paths might cross again.
“Hattie often looks after my little daughter, as you know.”
“Indeed. A most delightful young lady.”
“Yes, she is.”
“I am grateful for what you have told me, Mr Ashford. You have given me much to think about, and this gives me energy.
“‘The only time I feel alive is when I am painting’,” he quoted.
Donald nodded.
“Van Gogh.”
“Yes!” Mr Van Bakkar lit up in surprise and took a breath, about to say something more, but Donald had turned away.
Giving a quick wave, he made his way back to the lighthouse and the evening duties that awaited him.