The Library of Lost and Found(89)

With Daniel’s words surrounding her, Martha poured out her heart, about what the library and its people meant to her. The library was there when she needed it, and she wanted to devote her time giving something back.

She told her own story.



* * *



She woke early the next morning, at 5:31 a.m. Siegfried was already seated in front of his typewriter.

Martha washed the dishes while he clack-clacked away. They had found a strange easy rhythm of being in the same space together.

She placed her completed application form in front of him, knowing that she wasn’t quite ready to leave yet.

He nodded once, then opened and read it.

Martha looked out of the window. The tide was going out and her stomach was tight at the thought of leaving the calm white space that had been her haven.

Siegfried handed the form back to her. “Top marks,” he said.

He resumed his tapping away and Martha didn’t ask what he was writing. He was focused and, in his own way, seemed content.

She wanted to tell him that he’d helped to restore her faith in people and that her time in the lighthouse had helped to quiet her mind and allow for her heart to heal. But she thought that he probably knew.



* * *



At just after 7:00 a.m., she unlocked the lighthouse door. Siegfried stood beside her, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his long coat.

“Thank you,” she told him. She sought out a spot on his cheek, above his beard and below his hat, and planted a quick kiss.

He gave a jerky nod and held the door open. He placed his hand inside his coat and handed her a blue envelope. It had “To Whoever It May Concern” written on it.

Knowing he’d be embarrassed if she asked what it was, Martha placed it neatly in the large patch pocket of the purple dress. Her toes were bare in the glittery sandals. She picked up Daniel’s cardboard box and held it close to her chest. She welcomed the sea breeze that whipped her hair and speckled her face with salt water. Inhaling, she held the air in her lungs for a moment before stepping onto the uneven rocks. “If I can ever do anything for you, just let me know,” she said.

Siegfried stood still, his coat whipping in the wind. “One thing,” he called back to her after a few seconds.

“What?”

He tugged his hat down farther so she could no longer see his eyes. “Stop Branda picking bloody Scandi thrillers,” he said.





36


Sisters

The beach was quiet, except for a few people walking their dogs. Something orange bobbed in the gray sea and Martha craned her neck to see what it was. A swimming cap? Don’t they know about the riptide? Then she saw it was a football. A black Labrador splashed into the sea, then swam out to retrieve it.

Sighing with relief, she looked up and saw her house at the edge of the cliff. The fence was wonky and she pictured five figures in the garden, a mum, dad, grandma and two girls. In her imagination, they waved down at her. She briefly raised her fingers in return, but they were gone as quickly as they appeared to her.

She walked across the sands and stopped in front of the teardrop-shaped cave. It was empty, dark and calm now. The sea had left behind a wet tide mark inside. It reached above her and Joe’s initials, so the white of the letters had darkened.

Martha placed Daniel’s box gently on the sand and stepped into the cave. She climbed up onto the rocks, towards the slit, to retrieve her coat and shoes. She was relieved to find they were dry, untouched by the sea. Slipping them on, she climbed back down while carrying the glittery sandals.

She walked over to the wall and stared up at the initials. She pictured Joe reaching up to write them. His hair was thick and dark, and his shoulders strong. She had locked him in her mind so that he was forever young, and that they were forever in love. She could see now that he was a figure of fantasy, representing her past happiness.

She now knew this responsibility was all hers.

She could take up Suki’s offer to seek Joe out, to find out where he was in his life. Or she could let him remain as a lovely memory.

She pictured Siegfried’s note on the side of her supper tray, and his updates. “Owen wants to take you for coffee.”

It was definitely her turn to organize and pay this time. She broke into a warm smile at the thought of his lapel badges and his red slippers. He probably didn’t dance in the sea at dusk, whatever the weather, but did she want that any longer?

She wriggled her toes and imagined her nails painted petal-pink, as she used to do for Joe. She’d never had a steady hand and hated the smell of the polish. After almost drowning, she didn’t ever want her feet to get wet, by the sea, again.

She smiled up at the initials and briefly stretched up to press a fingertip against them. “Goodbye, Joe,” she murmured.

She made sure that her door keys were safe in her coat pocket and she picked up Daniel’s box. Leaving the cave, she headed towards the mermaid statue.

As usual, she stopped to read the plaque, and this time she let her eyes linger on the name Daniel McLean. Expelling her breath, she traced her fingers over the raised letters.

“You knew about me, and now I know about you, too,” she whispered. “I’m sorry that we’ll never meet. But reading your words has helped me, more than you’ll ever know. I’ll keep an eye on Siegfried for you.”