‘Oh, Jaysus, I totally forgot it’s your birthday. I’m a terrible one for dates.’
Ellie shakes her head. ‘Don’t worry. It’s the last thing I’m thinking about. Dottie … she’s invited George over.’
‘She did, did she? She’s a little tinker.’
‘He’s just a friend.’
‘You may thinks that, maid, but has he got the message?’
‘Yes, yes, of course. I’ve barely seen him since that time at the Samson on St Patrick’s Day.’
‘Thomas reaches into the pocket of his khaki uniform. ‘It might not be a birthday present, Ellie Mae, but I has a little somethin’ for you. For you to remember me by.’
‘Oh, Thomas. You don’t have to worry about that.’
Stepping out of their embrace, he drops to one knee. He opens the small navy velvet box and takes out a ring and holds it out to her. The silver moonlight catches the large square-cut stone, setting it glinting in the shadowy darkness of the tower. ‘Didn’t I say I’d find you the most beautiful ring in England, maid? I always keeps my promises.’
Ellie’s face breaks into a wide smile. ‘You did say that. I remember.’
‘Ellie Mae Burgess, will you do me the honour of being my wife and making me the happiest man who walks this earth?’
‘Oh, Thomas. Yes. Yes.’
He takes hold of her left and hand slides the ring over her ring finger. ‘Perfect fit. It’s like the ring was made for you, Ellie Mae.’ He looks up at Ellie’s face, lit a soft silver in the moonlight. He presses his fingers to his eyes and blinks.
‘Thomas Parsons, is that a tear in your eye?’
Thomas smiles. ‘I’m not ashamed to say it is.’ He turns her hand over and kisses her palm. ‘How did I get so lucky? You looks like an angel, maid. My angel.’
Chapter 33
Tippy’s Tickle – 16 September 2001
Sam steers the cruiser past the grey cliffs that press their jagged forms against the blue sky in a jigsaw of abutting and diverging diagonal slabs. Around the boat, tickle-aces, turrs and noddies keen and swoop, skimming the ocean’s surface for their next meal.
The lighthouse comes into view on the edge of a cliff about ten kilometres away, the white house crowding against it, as if seeking reassurance on their precarious perch above the ocean. Leaving Ellie and Florie playing cribbage, Sophie joins Sam and Becca on the bridge.
Sam glances over at her as he steers the boat through the waves. ‘Is that flight information phone number I gave you any good? Any word about your flight?’
‘Not yet, Sam. There’s only a few more planes to leave, including mine. I tried to get on another flight to New York, but they’re not allowing it. I have to go on the plane I came in on.’ She shakes her head. ‘I’ve got to get to this interview Tuesday morning, or … or, I don’t know what. Back to London with my tail between my legs, I suppose.’
‘Back to the big city where you belong.’
‘What do you mean by that? I don’t have to live in a city. I spent a lot of time in the countryside in Norfolk growing up.’ She juts out her chin. ‘I could live here if I wanted to. I’d have to change my entire life, but anything’s possible.’
Sophie looks out to the ocean. How was he to know that she’d sat on the rock under the old spruce beside Kittiwake sketching the view while she imagined herself with a cottage by the tickle, making a life here as an artist? Picking blueberries and partridgeberries with Florie and Becca from secret places she’d find? Maybe designing a few holiday homes to pay her way? Never having to wear a designer suit again. It was a fantasy, of course. She knew that, even as she let the daydreams drift through her mind. Lovely dreams. But dreams weren’t reality.
Sam grins. ‘You might look like one of us in Ellie’s clothes, Princess Grace, but underneath beats the heart of a career woman. I’ve seen you checking your phone at breakfast.’
‘A lot of people check their phone messages in the morning. I need to see if I have to call anyone back.’
‘And at dinner.’
She shrugs. ‘I have a lot of responsibilities back in London.’
‘I’m sure you do. Just be careful you don’t miss the important things while you’re being so busy.’
‘What’s more important than work?’
‘Life, Princess Grace.’
Sophie presses her lips together. ‘Spoken by a man who seems to have given up on it.’
Sam whistles. ‘That’s harsh.’
Ellie joins them, tucking her arm around Sam’s waist. ‘This is a lovely birthday treat, Sam. It’s so nice of your client to let us go out in the boat today.’
Sam laughs and hugs Ellie against him. ‘Do you think I told him, Ellie?’
‘Sam! You mean he doesn’t know?’
‘Oh, he knows we have to take the boat out to check it’s running right. That’s all he needs to know.’
Picking up a pair of binoculars, Sophie scans the water for a waterspout. ‘Emmett didn’t want to come?’
‘No,’ Ellie says as she roots around the icebox. She pulls out two bottles of Coke. ‘He’s still upset about yesterday. He just needs some time. He’ll come around.’
Sophie sets down the binoculars. ‘I’m afraid I owe him an apology.’
‘Why’s that, Sophie?’ Ellie asks.
‘I … I asked Florie if he was trustworthy. I’m so sorry, Aunt Ellie. You hear stories …’
‘Sophie! Emmy would never! He’s my son. How could you think that?’
Sophie feels the blood rise in her cheeks. ‘Of course, of course. I know. I’m so sorry. I was out of line.’
Becca taps Sophie on the arm, signing excitedly. In front of the boat, at the foot of the lighthouse, the glistening grey back of a whale curves amongst the waves and slides into the blue-grey depths.
‘Oh my God. That was a whale.’
Sam nods. ‘It sure was. A humpback.’ He steers the cruiser into the cove below the lighthouse. A spray of water shoots up through the waves, dissipating into a cloud of fine
