A Light Between Oceans Episode 32
Lucas sat in the hotel room, staring at the message that had been handed to him at the desk when he’d come in.
Please contact the offices of Haverstock and Ward as soon as possible.
Either Mr Haverstock was wondering why he hadn’t been in touch, or some sort of problem had cropped up that he was needed for.
Lucas suspected it was the first.
He walked to the window and looked out to the endless sea.
An hour ago he had seen Sandy off to the London train, but now it was as if she had gone to the other side of the world.
She was off to put everything right in the shop that she’d made such a success of.
He imagined it, just as she had described, with its cheerful décor and window display of fabrics and flowers, and Sandy standing behind the counter, her face lit up with the smile that took his breath away.
He loved how expressive it was – the way that dazzling smile could in a moment turn to a wistfulness that made him want to cradle her in his arms.
He contemplated the solitary supper he would have that evening, thinking of their endless conversation that seemed to venture in every direction.
Then, something she’d said came vividly into the foreground.
“I’ve always wanted to visit Holland. How lovely to have that culture in your background,” she’d remarked.
He’d told her he remembered little of the voyage and of his early childhood in Holland.
But, strangely, in the last few days, fragments of that time had been springing into his mind.
Some had been only fleeting images – his father drawing a cartoon for him as they’d sat below decks, fighting sea sickness on that long voyage to America.
“Who do you think this is, Finn?” his father had asked, a conspiratorial smile playing at the corners of his mouth as a caricature of the formidable captain appeared on a scrap of paper.
After Lucas had sifted through the invoices and receipts from various art dealers he’d found among his father’s papers, another memory had surfaced, of wandering in a room and looking at paintings and models of ships, while his father talked to another man.
He remembered the huge brick building, with its arches and decoration outlined in white.
The Rijksmuseum, he thought.
Then, late last night, a strange memory had bubbled up of a later time.
The dreamlike recollection was at Coney Island, and although the backdrop was fuzzy, like an out of focus photograph, his father’s gentle, troubled voice was strong and clear.
“My boy, sometimes we do the right things for the wrong reasons, or the wrong things for the right reasons.”
What could it have been about? Lucas tried desperately to grasp the memory and pull it into the light, but nothing came – only his father’s haunting words.
Could it have had something to do with his father’s strange disappearance during the war? Or his secrecy about his talent as an artist?
None of it made sense.
And now it seemed that his dream of buying the lighthouse had been ruined, unless he could convince the estate agent that he was a serious contender and could match the offer on the table.
He’d go to Derwents today to see if there was any way to salvage the situation.
Yet, now that the harsh realities had come to light, he wondered what exactly he would do with the lighthouse if he did buy it.
He still didn’t know the answer – only that he felt a deep need to make it his own, for himself and for Sandy.
A gull swooped close to the window startling him, and then, almost as if it had been some sort of alert, it was suddenly clear what he must do.
He turned and picked up the phone, then saw the message from Mr Haverstock glaring up at him.
He would have to deal with it, but there were a couple of other calls that he needed to make first.
“Hello. This is Lucas Brook. Would it be possible for you to connect me with the Amsterdam tourist board, please?”