The Lightkeeper's Wife - By Karen Viggers Page 0,119

watching the wind straining up over the dunes and flailing the shrubs, flicking upward sprays of spume off the waves. Wind like that was the breath of ice.

Now she moved towards the door, but Jacinta grasped her arm gently. ‘I’m not sure we should go, Nana. You’re not looking well, and if you catch cold, you could die of pneumonia. I’d never forgive myself.’

Mary was alarmed. There was no option. They had to make this trip today. ‘I’ll be fine,’ she said, summoning a persuasive smile. ‘I haven’t been sleeping well, that’s all.’

‘But it’s so exposed at the lighthouse. I don’t want to take you out in the cold.’

‘This is what I want, Jacinta. It’s important to me.’ Mary could sense her granddaughter’s indecision so she pressed her advantage. ‘If my cough gets out of hand then I’ll let you bring me home.’

‘Do you promise you’ll tell me if you’re feeling unwell?’

‘I promise.’

‘All right then.’

Alex took her clothes and put them in the car. When everything was packed, he helped her into the front seat.

They scaled the dunes and whizzed along the flat beach as if it was a highway.

‘How fast are we going?’ Mary croaked. She hadn’t left the cabin since the scout camp last weekend, and the speed triggered somersaults in her chest.

‘Only forty k’s an hour,’ Alex said. ‘Is it too fast for you?’

‘No,’ she lied. ‘It’s fine.’

She reminded herself that, despite her agitation, it was a grand day to be out. The sky was patchy with clouds and Pacific gulls lifted at the car’s approach and wafted overhead.

Halfway down the beach they passed a man and woman walking. They were young and they stared at Mary without smiling. She knew the car was an intrusion in such a beautiful place. When she was young, she’d have been mortified to see a vehicle here. Jack would have called it an abomination. He had always been a traditionalist.

She glanced back along the beach and was startled to see herself walking there on the sand with Jack—his tall shape and her impatient strong legs. Yes, there they were, walking fast together to the end of the beach. To Cloudy Corner. In the campground, they’d drop their packs and climb the headland to search for sea eagles and smell the cold air. They would embrace up there. Kiss and hold each other close. Young bodies straining tight.

She heard Alex talking and she turned to gaze into his expectant face. He smiled at her as he swung the car up off the beach and onto the road. ‘So what do you think?’ he said.

‘About what?’ Mary was lost.

‘About Tom meeting a girl.’

‘. . . he’s met a girl, has he?’

‘Yes,’ Jacinta said from the back. ‘He said he told you about her.’

Mary struggled to catch the slipping edge of a memory. Had Tom said he’d met someone? ‘How are they going?’ she asked.

‘Well, I think,’ Jacinta said. ‘He seems happy.’

Good. It was time for Tom to be happy. Mary looked away, trying to hide her uneasiness. Hadn’t she noticed Tom was happier? She ought to have seen that.

‘He said he might go south again,’ Jacinta added. ‘And that you were pleased. He said you encouraged him.’

Was it really a good idea for Tom to go south again?

‘He’s hoping to work with this girl,’ Jacinta continued. ‘Emma.’

Emma. She did remember something about that name. ‘What about Jess?’ Mary asked.

‘If he goes, I’ll look after her.’

The road was turning towards the old farm, and Mary could see the tall white trees down by the stream. She remembered how she used to love standing beneath them in a strong wind, listening to the long strips of bark slapping against the trunks. Smiling, she closed her eyes, imagining herself as a girl again, milking cows in a shed that was no longer there. She saw herself up a ladder picking apples; in the paddock raking silage; standing in the shed where she’d met Jack, straining to see his face in the shadows.

At Lunawanna, Jacinta suggested stopping for coffee, but Mary wanted to keep going, so they drove past the shop onto the lighthouse road. These days the road was well graded with only a few potholes and corrugations, and it curved past houses and shacks overlooking the still waters of the channel. Beyond lay rough farmland dotted with bracken and tussock grass. They drove through stringybark forest, passing fences and gates and No Trespassing signs. It was drier here than at Cloudy Bay. Soon the