Page 48 of Second Chance Summer
She found a large granite stone to sit on a little way above the cottages, which gave her a view of the tiny hamlet with the white beach of Tean Porth behind it and, in the distance, white breakers crashing against the rocks. She drew a rudimentary sketch then dipped her brush in the jar she’d half-filled from her water flask.
Soon, Lily was absorbed in her work, simply trying to enjoy the act of creating and not worry about the result. She’d have other days to draw and paint the scene, though it could never be quite the same as today or even this moment. With clouds, waves and light changing by the second, her painting would always be an amalgamation of multiple moments, never to be recaptured again.
A moment frozen in time, yet also lost.
Cara flew into her mind. Her sister would have been pleased to see her, sitting here, living for the day. Lily thought about Étienne, then … what must he have been through in that half a minute after his colleague had told him about the online reports?
He must have been devastated to hear of another loss in the family and by the thought of having to tell the girls that their auntie was gone.
To centre herself again, Lily heaved in a deep gulp of the air, scented with the tang of seaweed and flowers. The gulls’cries seemed shriller and when she sipped from her flask and savoured the cold water, filtered from the island well, it tasted pure and sweet.
Oh, yes, she was alive.
She laid down her sketch pad, the sheet pinned back, and delved into her backpack for the sandwich she’d insisted on making for herself in Sam’s kitchen. Goat’s cheese salad on a granary roll from the Bryher bakery.
It smelled so fresh and tasted divine. She was sure her senses had been sharpened by the island’s brilliant light and pure air.
She smiled and reached for her flask. How fortunate she was to be living in such luxury, eating fresh food, never having to suffer hunger or thirst – unlike poor Mabel and her family. Her mouth was full when she saw it. She paused, and tried to swallow the food but it would hardly go down.
Goosebumps popped out on every inch of flesh.
Her hands shook as she abandoned her lunch on the stone. It couldn’t have been … Her eyes had been deceiving her. A trick of the light, her imagination working overtime.
She’d been sure she’d glimpsed a strange shadowy figure at the far end of the ruined cottage, but now she looked again, it had vanished.
‘Lily!’ Sam called down to her from the roof of the top cottage when she hurried past, breathing as hard as if she’d won the Olympic hundred metres.
‘What’s up? Are you OK?’
Lily dropped her backpack on the terrace. Her latest painting hadn’t been dry when she’d shoved it into her bag and dashed from the cottages. It would be ruined but she didn’t care. Her only object had been to get away from the place as fast as possible.
Sam climbed down the ladder and was by her side in an instant. ‘What’s happened?’
‘N–nothing. I was just a bit … s–spooked.’
‘What do you mean, “spooked”?’ He touched her arm, fleetingly, then added, ‘Take your time.’
She had no choice but to take her time, needing to steady her breathing and process what she’d seen. Orthoughtshe’d seen. Her blood had run cold when the shadowy figure had appeared: but it was probably her imagination working overtime. After all, she had been thinking about Mabel at the time and had had a stressful few days.
‘I was painting the ruined cottages at Tean Porth,’ she said, feeling rather foolish now. ‘And it was probably a trick of the light, but I thought I saw someone inside one of them.’
Sam’s eyes widened. ‘Someone? Who?’ he said, adding more softly, ‘What did they look like?’
‘I couldn’t say. It was more of a shadow than a figure. Like I said, it could simply have been a trick of the light. It startled me, that’s all.’ Lily shrugged though she was still shaken. ‘Maybe I’ve had too much sun today,’ she joked.
Sam didn’t laugh. ‘Did you see any other signs of anyone hanging around? A boat on the beach maybe? Even a paddleboard?’
‘No, and I also had a quick look inside the cottage beforeI started painting. There was no one visible, though there was a trampled area up to the hearth.’
Sam nodded. ‘I went in there a week ago with Aaron to see if we could salvage any of the stones for the refurbishments. We didn’t see any signs of intruders.’
‘Then I must have been mistaken,’ Lily said breezily. ‘I’d been concentrating hard on painting and thinking about the old islanders at the time so perhaps I’d imagined a ghost.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Which it couldn’t possibly have been because they don’t exist.’
‘No, they don’t, and if there was someone there, it could only have been an intruder though I doubt anyone can be on the island now,’ he said reassuringly. ‘They can’t land at the jetty as it’s low tide. I suppose theycouldbeach a boat at Tean Porth but you’d have to know the right spot, avoid the rocky reefs, watch the tides … and I can see almost the whole island from the roof here.’ He paused then said: ‘Could it be the press or some deranged vlogger?’
‘I doubt it. How would they get here?’ she asked.
‘Only with the help of an islander and I can’t think of any local skippers who would agree to help them land on Stark.’
