The Lightkeeper's Wife - By Karen Viggers Page 0,54
the carton in the gas fridge. ‘Is there anything else you need?’
‘My granddaughter’s coming this weekend, so you can have a couple of days off.’
He swung away to find some cups, and she heard him muttering, ‘There’s no such thing as a day off.’
‘Perhaps you could have a day with your family,’ she suggested. ‘Go for a picnic.’
The look he gave her was ferocious. ‘Who says I want to go for a picnic with my family?’
‘It was just an idea.’
‘Yeah, well, family picnics are not my idea of fun.’ He set two cups on the bench.
‘It sounds like you need a holiday,’ she said, trying again.
‘Not much chance of that at the moment, is there?’ Even as he said it he glanced at her with a flicker of guilt in his eyes.
‘This won’t go on forever, if that’s what you mean.’
‘You’re thinking of going back?’
‘Not immediately . . . but I’ll have to go back eventually.’
He slipped her a furtive look and she held back from saying she intended to be here till she died.
‘Would you mind bringing my tablets?’ she asked.
He poured the tea, delivered her tablets and sat down in a chair while she shook out the required medication and swallowed it. A long silence followed in which they sipped tea and stared out the window. The quiet seemed to soften him somehow, and eventually he turned to her, his face calmer.
‘The weekend after next, there’s going to be a scout camp out here,’ he said. ‘They’ll be staying at Cloudy Corner.’
‘That’s fine. It won’t matter if they’re noisy. I won’t hear them from here.’
‘I had an idea you might talk to them,’ he suggested.
‘I’m sure I can be polite and say hello.’
He shook his head. ‘That’s not what I meant. I thought you might talk to them about being a keeper’s wife. I think they’d be interested.’
The suggestion set her coughing. When she recovered, she stared at him, annoyed. ‘As you can see, I can barely string two sentences together.’
‘You won’t have to speak for long,’ he said, leaning forward.
She paused, considering. Perhaps this was an opportunity, an opening she could exploit. She must suppress her irritation and dive on her chance. ‘All right,’ she said slowly. ‘I’ll do it—in exchange for an outing.’
His expression soured. ‘Where to?’
‘Up to Mount Mangana.’
He snorted. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. You wouldn’t make it more than twenty metres up the track.’
‘I don’t need to walk,’ she said. ‘I just want to drive through the forest.’
‘When?’ he asked.
‘How about now?’
Surprisingly, he agreed. Still looking disgruntled, he deposited her inside the four-wheel drive and climbed into the driver’s seat, slamming the door. Then he drove fast down the beach, flushing gulls from the sand.
Sitting quietly in the passenger seat, Mary wound down the window to let the fresh air rush in. Despite Leon’s grumpiness, she was surfing on a surge of triumph and she couldn’t keep the smile off her lips. Soon she’d have another place crossed off her list. And how good it was to leave the cabin again. Sea spray was rising above the beach and light shimmered over the sea with a pearly glow. The world was beautiful and here she was, whizzing through it, watching the sun cutting the clouds and glinting off the water.
At the end of the beach near the lagoon, Leon drove up onto the road and stopped in the Whalebone Point carpark. He grabbed a bag of toilet rolls from the back seat and swung out of the car. ‘I won’t be long.’
Mary watched him stride across the tarmac, head down, shoulders rounded. He was brooding today, stewing over something. She wished she could ask him what was wrong, but his body language didn’t encourage questions.
When he climbed back in, he wound her window up. ‘We’ll be going faster along the road. You’ll get blown away.’
Pulling out of the carpark they passed the Pines campground, where a man was bending over a camp stove and a woman was folding away a tent. Leon waved at them.
‘That was nice of you,’ she said.
He grunted. ‘I get paid to be nice to people.’
They drove past paddocks dotted with sheep and bracken. Then the coastal scrub gave way to greener farms where plump Herefords grazed. Here, taller trees grew along the roadside verges, and occasionally there were quaint cold-looking cottages with smoke coiling from their chimneys. Up high in the mountains bald patches marked recent logging sites.