A Light Between Oceans Episode 30

Hattie stared down at the shocking contents of the suitcase, panic rising.
With trembling fingers, she locked the suitcase and pushed it back under the bed.
She must tell Donald and warn him to keep away from this man. And they must report him to the police. But when?
It was her neighbour Meryl’s birthday, and they had planned to go on an outing together.
Meryl had been longing to get out of the house for a while, and her husband had managed to get some extra petrol.
Then he’d come down with a cold, so Hattie was to go in his place.
She looked at her watch. There was barely enough time to get ready. She’d have to wait until they returned, then go straight to the lighthouse cottage.
She’d just have to hope that Mr Van Bakkar wouldn’t be on the beach, and that Donald wouldn’t be talking to him again.
A while later, the old Ford stuttered to life as Meryl pressed her foot to the floor.
“Jacob said I mustn’t ride the clutch, but it always feels like it’s about to stall.”
“Maybe it would be best not to venture too far,” Hattie suggested, trying to make her voice light as she contemplated getting stuck.
“Here we go!” Meryl grinned with satisfaction as the car hiccupped along the coast road. “It’s a cracking day, isn’t it? Thanks for coming with me.”
“The pleasure is all mine. What a treat to go beyond Belmouth for a change.”
“How are things with your guests? What’s the foreign gentleman like?”
Hattie felt her stomach tighten.
“He’s very polite. I haven’t really got to know him.”
“Didn’t you say he was a scientist?” Meryl asked.
“Donald seems fond of him, doesn’t he? And Sandy, the dear little mite.”
“Yes, he’s nice to Sandy,” Hattie admitted weakly, trying to keep the conversation from entering uncomfortable territory.
“Jacob said he sees him and Donald talking all the time on the beach. It’s nice for Donald to have made a friend, isn’t it?”
“I can’t imagine they’re actually friends . . .” Hattie murmured.
“Didn’t Donald used to draw and such? Maybe there’s a kindred spirit there.”
“I suppose there could be,” Hattie replied.
“Crikey, what’s that?” Meryl pointed into the distance.
Hattie squinted into the sun. Three towers made of silver shafts of metal loomed high on a hill overlooking the sea. Nearby was a low building.
“Looks like the Eiffel Tower, except there’s three of them,” Meryl said in wonder.
“I wonder how long they’ve been there? I haven’t been out of town for donkey’s years.”
“They are perhaps something to help our radio reception,” Hattie ventured.
“Though it doesn’t seem to help Belmouth. Mine’s as crackly as ever.”
A memory began to take shape in Hattie’s mind – something Donald had hinted about some time ago.
It was something to do with the RAF and experiments that were being done with a different kind of radio wave that had nothing to do with listening to the Home Service.
She had asked him questions about it, but he’d changed the subject.
Meryl drove on, beginning to gather speed as Hattie leaned back, holding on to the sides of her seat.
“There’s no rush, Meryl.”
As they drew near to the strange towers, Hattie leaned forward, straining to see more clearly.
Ahead, she could see two bicycles lying abandoned behind some shrubbery.
“Wait, Meryl. Go slowly. I just want to see . . .”
Meryl had already slowed down and was staring toward the towers.
“Who are those people?” she asked. “They look familiar.”
Hattie was silent, her mind racing in confusion as she watched Mr and Mrs Townsend making their way up the hill towards the towers.
“Drive on, Meryl. Let’s get past.”
Meryl gasped as Hattie darted down, her head on her knees and hidden from view as they drove away.