A Light Between Oceans Episode 31
Belmouth, 1970
The morning sun winked and glittered across the billowing waves as they crashed against the shore.
Sandy and Hattie laughed as a fine mist of cold spray blew into their faces.
“After all these years, we’re still miscalculating our distance!” Hattie wiped her face as they stumbled their way back towards the promenade.
It had been a light-hearted morning of idle chat over coffee and toast before they’d set out for the beach – an unspoken moratorium on the strained relations of the week.
They reached the steps to the promenade and plopped themselves on a bench to rest.
“I’ve been thinking about the shop,” Sandy began. “I think I should go back to London to sort things out.”
“I had a feeling you’d need to do that.” Hattie nodded. “Are there problems?
“Will you be able to send back the fabric that was delivered by mistake?”
“Yes, but it’ll be a lot of work. I don’t like the idea of Libby taking care of it, and I’m worried about what else she’s been up to.
“I’m hoping it won’t take too long to get things straight,” Sandy continued.
“Then I’d like to come back. I want to spend more time with Lucas.”
“You’re always welcome to stay here.”
Hattie sounded polite, as if she were talking to someone who had stayed at the guesthouse.
Suddenly Sandy could bear the tension no longer.
“Oh, Hattie, everything has become so complicated and . . .”
She stopped, her heart and mind in conflict.
She longed to throw her arms around Hattie and tell her that she had fallen in love with Lucas, and for Hattie to explain her secretive behaviour.
What had happened to the Hattie she had known and loved ever since she could remember?
Who was this woman sitting beside her, with her strained face and measured tone of voice?
“He seems a nice young man,” Hattie went on. “But I do worry. Hasn’t everything happened awfully quickly?
“You need to give this some thought before you make a mistake that could end in your being hurt.”
Her voice sounded rather patronising.
Then, like some sort of magnet that was slowly drawing the pieces of a jigsaw closer together, a new picture began to swim before Sandy’s eyes.
Had her need for love and her innocence shielded her from seeing this different Hattie for all those years?
As they sat together on the bench, a kaleidoscope of memories coursed through Sandy’s mind.
Hattie talking to Sandy’s father, little presents that she had given him through the years, her constant help and favours done.
Now, Hattie seemed unable to feel anything but sceptical and negative about Sandy’s relationship with Lucas.
Added to this, Hattie seemed determined to hide any knowledge of the war years, as if she wanted that time to disappear.
Why had she claimed not to remember any artists who had been in Belmouth during that time, when surely she would have known of Hans Van Bakkar, with his stunning talent?
None of it made sense, yet one possibility seemed to be looming closer and closer, like a distant vehicle slowly taking shape as it moved forward through swirling mist.
It had never occurred to Sandy before, but now she was almost certain of it.
“Hattie,” she began, sickened by the dreadful realisation of what she was about to say, yet unable to stop herself.
“There’s something I’ve been wondering.”
Hattie looked up, her hands knotted together in her lap.
“What is that, dear?”
Sandy hesitated only for an instant.
“Were you in love with my father?”
There was no going back. The question hung between them, cold and raw.
Hattie sat rigid, and Sandy saw the colour rise then drain from her face.
At last Hattie answered.
“Yes, Sandy,” she said simply. “I was. I loved him with all my heart.”
Sandy bit her lip, feeling stunned.
Hattie seemed to sense Sandy’s feelings, just as she always had.
She reached across and put her roughened hand on hers.
That roughness had always soothed Sandy – it was one born of a life of constant activity, and the feel of it had always meant strength, security and love.
She felt the tears well up, but she couldn’t meet Hattie’s eyes.
“I expect you’re wondering if anything came of it,” Hattie went on. “It didn’t.
“Your father never loved me. I wish he had, but I could hardly follow in your beautiful mother’s footsteps!”
She went silent, looking into the distance.
Sandy slowly turned to her.
“I’m so sorry, Hattie.” There was nothing else that she could say.
Hattie squeezed her hand.
“Although my love for your dad was unrequited,” Hattie went on, “I had all that I’d ever wanted.
“In a way, we were all a little family – your father, you and me.
“The memory of your mother was a part of that. There are so many kinds of families, so many kinds of love.”
“You gave me so much,” Sandy said softly.
Hattie smiled.
“I adored every moment of being with you, and watching you grow up to be the wonderful young woman that you are.
“All I’ve ever wanted is your happiness.”
Through her tears, Sandy saw that Hattie’s, too, had misted over.
There were still so many unanswered questions, but those would have to wait.
For now, all that Sandy wanted was to bask in the relief and comfort of this moment.