The Lightkeeper's Wife - By Karen Viggers Page 0,7

same way it erodes rocks, and turns mountains into sand, and makes headlands into beaches.

Jacinta was gazing out to where the wind was picking up the crests of waves and flicking them skywards in fizzing white spume. ‘It’s beautiful here,’ she said. ‘But it’s cold. We should close the windows and turn up the heater.’

‘What? And blow away the smell of the sea?’

Jacinta reached over and squeezed Mary’s hand. ‘Your skin’s like ice, Nana. Remember, you’re my responsibility today. Is there a thermos in the picnic basket?’

‘I forgot the thermos.’ Mary’s face folded into quietness. Now was the time. ‘There’s a cabin back along the beach a way,’ she said, restraining the tension in her voice. ‘Did you notice it as we passed? It’s just over the dunes. Let’s go and see if we can make a cup of tea there.’

Jacinta looked doubtful. ‘Do you think we can do that?’

‘I know the owners. They won’t mind. It’ll be unlocked.’ Mary’s skin tingled and she held her breath as she waited for Jacinta to acquiesce.

‘I suppose we can have a look . . .’

Jacinta turned the car and drove back along the beach while Mary sat tight and still, struggling to subdue her mounting excitement. She waved a casual hand to show Jacinta where the track turned off, but as they swung up over the dunes, lurching over the rise, Mary’s heart was dipping and curving too.

‘Thank goodness for four-wheel drive,’ Jacinta said, a smile lighting her face. She was struggling to hold the car straight while the sand grabbed at the wheels. They parked on the grass beside the small building.

It was a log cabin, painted brown, with three big windows facing seawards and a grand view over the low coastal scrub to the flat expanse of the beach. Mary could see the tide running in and the hulk of the headland stretching south across the bay. On the front verandah there was a wooden picnic table and an old barbeque collecting rust.

Jacinta turned off the engine. ‘Are you sure it’s okay for us to do this? Someone might be staying here.’

Mary was already opening her car door. ‘I rang ahead to check. They’re expecting us to pop in.’ She slid out hurriedly, awkwardly, knowing she must usher her granddaughter inside before she could ask too many questions. Soon Jacinta would discover that not all had been revealed. She shuffled to the steps, noticing the sound of the sea rising over the dunes and the twitter of fairy wrens in the hushed lull between waves. ‘Could you bring the suitcase, please?’ she flung over her shoulder.

Jacinta was standing by the car, frowning. ‘Why do we need the case?’

‘Bring it inside and I’ll show you.’

Mary opened the door wide. Then she picked up a box of matches and a handwritten note from the kitchen bench.

‘What’s that?’ Jacinta asked from the doorway.

‘A note from the owners.’

‘Oh, good.’ Jacinta sounded relieved. ‘They really were expecting us.’ She set down the suitcase.

‘You didn’t believe me?’

‘I was beginning to have my doubts.’

‘Now you can stop doubting. Let’s turn the heater on. It’s cold in here.’

Jacinta took the matches. ‘Will the gas be on? Or should I go outside and check the bottle?’

‘It should be on.’

Jacinta opened the curtains and then squatted to light the heater. ‘Why don’t you sit on the couch?’ she said. ‘There’s a rug you can put over your knees.’

While Mary arranged the blanket around her legs, Jacinta filled the kettle and set it on the gas stove. She lit the ring and shook the match to extinguish the flame. ‘So this is why you didn’t bring a thermos.’

‘I forgot the thermos.’

‘But you knew we could get a cup of tea here.’

‘Yes.’

Jacinta stared at her for a long moment and Mary could feel her suspicion rising. ‘What’s going on, Nana?’

Ignoring the question, Mary gazed out the window, unsure how to give her granddaughter the truth without making her angry. Conflict was rare between them. It was unfamiliar and uncomfortable. Stalling, she studied the weather. Rain was coming in off the sea and the grey curtains of a squall were closing in. ‘How’s that kettle going?’ she asked.

‘It’ll take ages. The water’s freezing. What about your tablets? Is it time?’

‘They’re in the suitcase.’ They both turned to look at the case standing upright near the door. ‘Would you mind taking it into the bedroom?’ Mary asked, trying to control the quiver in her voice. ‘The furthest one. With the two single beds. Not