The Lightkeeper's Wife - By Karen Viggers Page 0,3
and that she’d missed out on opportunities—whatever that meant. Mary couldn’t imagine what great things Jan envisaged would have come her way in suburban Hobart.
It was true their lives hadn’t been easy at the light station. Challenges came with isolation. There’d been no other children on the cape. Dim lighting for schoolwork in the kitchen. Limited fresh food. No visitors in winter. Poor weather. But what they lacked in convenience, they had gained in simplicity and proximity to nature. Skies and sea stretching forever. Fishing. Exploring. Picnics on the beach. Space to roam. Mary’s heart still settled to think of it. Even so, Jan was convinced she’d been denied the important things, society and friendships and culture. Ever since, she’d run herself ragged trying to create this life she believed she’d been deprived of. It had driven her husband away; of that Mary was sure.
And yet, Mary could still remember how Jan loved to ride the pony along Lighthouse Beach. How she and Gary had run across the hills with bed sheets over their heads pretending to be ghosts. The bonfires, and the glorious Christmases, making decorations and presents. Then, it was just the four of them— Mary, Jack and the two children—wandering on moonlit nights with the flash of the light slicing the dark. Mary remembered those jewels of Jan’s childhood, even if Jan chose to forget them.
She remembered less of Gary, her second child. He was more often with his father working in the shed, or kicking a ball among the tussocks, chasing chickens, sprinting to the beach. Not long after the youngest child, Tom, came along, Jan and Gary went to boarding school in Hobart. Tom grew up on the cape alone, roaming wild. He was the only one who spoke of the light station with affection. By the time they went to school, Gary and Jan couldn’t wait to escape it.
Parents weren’t supposed to have favourites, but Mary had always felt protective of Tom. He was her sensitive child, the one susceptible to deep passion and grinding hurt. She loved them all, of course she did. But Tom was special. He needed her more than the others. Or was it that she needed him?
Now she thought of the letter and shuddered. It could ruin everything. Her family life. Her children’s beliefs. She must make sure it wasn’t discovered. Ridiculous that she hadn’t destroyed it already. What was holding her back?
She sighed and struggled to suppress tears. Soon she would be on Bruny. With Jack. And everything would be clearer.
At Kettering, they waited in line with a small number of cars and an empty cattle truck. Jacinta disappeared into the ferry terminal while Mary stayed in the car watching ruffles of wind skip over the water. The skies had lifted a little but still reflected the steely grey of the sea. Across the D’Entrecasteaux Channel, Mary could see the gentle hills of North Bruny. Not far out, the ferry had rounded the headland and was coming towards them.
It had been many years since she first crossed to Bruny Island, taking the ferry from further south at Middleton to the southern part of the island. She had made that unhappy passage alone, leaving her parents behind in Hobart and coming to live on her uncle’s farm. Remaking her life—and not by choice—at the grand age of sixteen. Not for the first time, she wondered what shape her life might have taken if she had never been sent to Bruny.
Jacinta returned with hot drinks, and Mary accepted the cup of tea with relief. Thinking of the past made her feel cold, and yet what else was there to think of? She’d come on this journey to remember the best of it, but recollection could not be without pain. She sipped her tea too quickly and burned her tongue.
‘How’s Alex?’ she asked, shifting her thoughts away from the past. Alex was Jacinta’s boyfriend, the son of a lawyer. He was a quiet lad, positive and affable; Mary liked him.
‘He’s okay.’ Jacinta paused. ‘He’s under pressure at the moment. From his family. Especially his mum.’
‘Isn’t that always so?’
Jacinta’s lips compressed. ‘They want him to take up a partnership in the firm. But it’s too soon. He’s only been out of uni a couple of years.’
‘And what does Alex want?’
‘That’s a good question. I wish his mother would ask him. But she’s hell-focused on getting what she wants.’