The Light Between Oceans(49)

‘I’d rather be warm than glamorous,’ said Isabel, and gave him a quick kiss. ‘We’re on an egg expedition.’

Inside the chicken coop, Lucy used two hands to pick up each egg, the task that would have taken Isabel seconds treated instead as a precious ritual. She put each egg to her cheek and reported either ‘Still warm!’ or ‘Tone cold’ as appropriate, then passed it to Isabel for safe storage, keeping the last one to carry in her own basket. Then, ‘Thank you, Daphne. Thank you, Speckle …’ she began, and went on to thank each hen for her contribution.

In the vegetable patch, she held the spade handle with Isabel during the potato dig.

‘I think I can see one …’ said Isabel, waiting for Lucy to spot the lighter patch in the sandy soil.

‘There!’ said Lucy, and put her hand into the hole, retrieving a stone.

‘Almost.’ Isabel smiled. ‘How about next to it? Look a little bit nearer the side.’

‘’Tato!’ Lucy beamed as she raised the prize above her head, scattering soil in her hair, then in her eyes, which started her crying.

‘Let’s have a look,’ soothed Isabel, wiping her hands on her dungarees before attending to the eye. ‘There we are, now, blink for Mamma. There, all gone, Luce.’ And the little girl continued to open and squint shut her eyes.

‘All gone,’ she said eventually. Then, ‘More ’tato!’ and the hunt began again.

Inside, Isabel swept the floor in every room, gathering the sandy dust into piles in the corner, ready to gather up. Returning from a quick inspection of the bread in the oven, she found a trail leading all through the cottage, thanks to Lucy’s attempts with the dustpan.

‘Look, Mamma! I helping!’

Isabel took in the miniature cyclone trail and sighed. ‘You could call it that …’ Picking Lucy up, she said, ‘Thank you. Good girl. Now, just to make extra sure the floor’s clean, let’s give it an extra sweep, shall we?’ With a shake of the head, she muttered, ‘Ah, Lucy Sherbourne, who’d be a housewife, eh?’

Later, Tom appeared at the doorway. ‘She all ready?’

‘Yep,’ said Isabel. ‘Face washed, hands washed. No grubby fingers.’

‘Then up you come, littlie.’

‘Up the stairs, Dadda?’

‘Yes, up the stairs.’ And she walked beside him to the tower. At the foot of the steps, she put her arms up so that he could hold her hands from behind. ‘Now, bunny, let’s count. One, two, three,’ and they proceeded, at an agonisingly slow pace, up the stairs, Tom counting every one aloud, long after Lucy gave up.

At the top, in the watch room, Lucy held out her hands. ‘Noclars,’ and Tom said, ‘Binoculars in a minute. Let’s get you up on the table first.’ He sat her on top of the charts, then handed her the binoculars, keeping the weight of them in his own hands.

‘Can you see anything?’

‘Clouds.’

‘Yep, plenty of those around. Any sign of the boat?’

‘No.’

‘You sure?’ Tom laughed. ‘Wouldn’t want you in charge of the guardhouse. What’s that over there? See? Where my finger is.’

She kicked her legs back and forwards. ‘Alf and Booey! Oranges.’

‘Mamma says there’ll be oranges, does she? Well, let’s keep our fingers crossed.’

It was more than an hour before the boat docked. Tom and Isabel stood on the jetty, Lucy on Tom’s shoulders.

‘A whole welcoming committee!’ called Ralph.

‘Hello!’ called Lucy. ‘People! Hello, Alf, hello, Boo.’

Bluey jumped off onto the jetty, heaving the rope Ralph threw him. ‘Mind out, Luce,’ he called to the child, now on the ground. ‘Don’t want to get in the way of the rope.’ He looked at Tom. ‘Golly, she’s a real little girl now, isn’t she? No more Baby Lucy!’

Ralph laughed. ‘They grow up, you know, babies.’

Bluey finished securing the rope. ‘We only see her every few months: just makes it more obvious. Kids in town, you see them every day, so you kind of don’t notice them getting older.’

‘And suddenly they’re great hulks of lads like you!’ teased Ralph. As he stepped onto the jetty, he had something in one hand behind his back. ‘Now, who’s going to help me take the things off the boat?’

‘Me!’ said Lucy.

Ralph gave Isabel a wink as he produced a tin of peaches from behind his back. ‘Well then, here’s something very, very heavy for you to carry.’

Lucy took the tin with both hands.

‘Gosh, Luce, better be careful with that! Let’s take it up to the house.’ Isabel turned to the men. ‘Give me something to take up if you like, Ralph.’ He clambered back to fish out the mail and a few light parcels. ‘See you up at the house in a bit. I’ll have the kettle on.’



After lunch, as the adults finished cups of tea at the kitchen table, Tom said, ‘Lucy’s a bit quiet …’

‘Hmmm,’ said Isabel. ‘She’s supposed to be finishing her drawing for Mum and Dad. I’ll go and check.’ But before she could leave the room, Lucy entered the kitchen, dressed in a petticoat of Isabel’s that trailed to the floor, a pair of her shoes with heels, and the string of blue glass beads that Isabel’s mother had sent out with that morning’s boat.