Long ago, before the advent of pocket-sized telephones and GPS devices, when children still played outside, it was commonplace to navigate the world by memorising landmarks, counting forks in the road, and telling signs from the sky. The northern edge of the island, on which this story takes place, was notoriously tricky. White cliffs shot to and fro, tree trunks and rocks moved as wind and rain poured in. The hiking trails were narrow and winding; some led in circles, whilst others disappeared over cliff edges without warning.

One summer’s evening, a child in a purple raincoat was there, collecting seashells on the shore. She was neither afraid nor lonely, for in her arms she carried a tin box, and on the tin box was a fanciful engraving of a brave knight. The girl felt assured the knight would protect her from danger. When the sun dipped its toes in the ocean, the girl sorted her favourite beach-finds from the rest, and got up to follow the trail southward. But she had not sooner made her exit from the beach, then a grey and large mist-dragon rolled in over the landscape. The beach, the sun, and the white cliffs were swallowed between its jaws. The girl hugged the tin box to her chest, and kept on walking, though the mist-dragon’s wrath made her temporarily blind.

Soon, the girl was cold and tired, and she sat down on a rock to cry. ‘You’ll only freeze if you stop here’, the brave knight seemed to say,’It’s just a little further.’ As the girl wiped her tears, the mist-dragon flew, and a light was revealed past the ridge ahead. As the girl got closer, she realised her ad-hoc wandering had taken her to the far edge of the peninsula. There stood the old lighthouse, which she had long dreamed of exploring, though she had been told it was too dangerous. Forgetting that she was cold and far from home, the girl skipped across the rocky pathway and up the plateau which housed the building. The tower’s limestone was cracked and discoloured from exposure to seaside wind and debris. The structure reached so high that the lantern light from the top may as well have been placed on the starry sky. 

“Enchanting, isn’t it?”  

An old man, dressed in a green mantel and wellingtons, emerged from the sea. He held a spear in one hand, and a bundle of fishes in the other.

He met the girls eyes, which were black as night, as she was staring blank between him and the lighthouse.

“What’s in the box?” asked the man.

The girl pressed her lips together and secured the box in a tighter grip. The man shrugged and gave a gentle smile, as if to say he would not pursue the matter further.

“Do not fear”, he said.”But there is a storm coming… It would be irresponsible of me to not offer shelter for the night, now that you are here.”

He reached for his keyring, and invited the girl in.

#2

“Stop the car!” says Elfie.

Thomas jumps on the brake, and pulls to a halt by the side of the road.

“What is it?” he says.

“We must have made a wrong turn”, Elfie replies.”If we continue this road we’ll just end up at a dead-end by some summer houses.”

She shakes her head, rolls a cigarette, and exits the car. On a moonless night like this, the bay, the sea and the sky all blur together into one formless blue mass.

“Made a wrong turn?” Thomas steps out of the car to join her.”But you said this was a short-cut?”

“Did I? I think you’re imagining things, Tom.”

She points with her free hand out at sea.

“Do you see the lone light out there? It must be from the lighthouse at the Northern Peninsula. How strange…”

She puffs her cigarette.

“Anyway, if we get back on the main road we should get to the port right on time to catch the ferry.”

From 7 pm, there is only one ferry in service, meaning that the departures from the mainland are hourly, leaving approximately 10 minutes for cars and pedestrians to board on either side, and 15-20 minutes to cross the channel.

The ferry is just letting passengers off as Thomas and Elfie approach, so they only need to queue for a few minutes before boarding.

The drumming sound of the engine, and the slow, bobbing manner in which the ferry moves across the water, takes Elfie back to her childhood. During the summer months she would get out of her parents car, zig-zag between the parked vehicles, and join the gathering at the front platform. She would lean against the railing, and tell everyone about the island and its sights. “Come on my little tour-guide”, her father would lift her up on his shoulders as the ferry approached docking.”Let’s get you back in the car.”

Elfie sinks back in the passenger seat, and delegates Thomas to keep left through the town which adjoins the port.

“My parents’ new apartment is in central Portcrane”, she points at a road sign.”And the van my dad wants us to pick up in the morning is from the car rental over there -“

She sighs, as if the mere thought of helping her parents move house is too much to bear.

“Don’t worry“, says Thomas.”We’ll take it one step at a time.”

As soon as they exit Portcrane, darkness swallows them again. Thomas is awed at Elfie’s ability to navigate their route through unmarked country roads.

When they arrive at her parents driveway, it is close to midnight. Elfie’s mother has left them a note on the kitchen table:

Welcome – hope you’ve had a pleasant journey. I’ve left sheets and towels in your room Elfie. If it gets chilly there are more blankets in the cupboard above the stairs. Left some food in the fridge. See you tomorrow!

Thomas skips to the fridge.

“Are you hungry?” he asks Elfie.

“No, I’m tired. I’m gonna have a shower – but stick whatever you like in the microwave and I’ll see you in a bit?”

Thomas kisses her on the cheek, and she disappears upstairs.

#3

When the girl awoke the old man was not there. She was wrapped up in blankets, on a sofa in a circular chamber. All windows were boarded up, and gas-lanterns and strange drawings adorned the wall. On one side of the sofa was kitchenette, on the other a small study, and straight across was the front door. Next to the door was a stairwell, which spiralled up along the wall. Looking up, she saw long shadows cast from the railing. She would prefer not to go there. So, sat up on the sofa, she turned to her blue box.

“Where is the lighthouse keeper?” the girl asked the brave knight.”Will he be back to prepare those fishes soon?”

Right at that moment, a hidden shaft-door opened from below the floorboards in the middle of the room. The old man’s bearded face popped out. His entry surprised the girl, so much she had to keep herself from yelping with laughter.

“Girl!” he said.”Come with – I wish to test a hypothesis.”

The man disappeared, leaving the shaft-door wide open behind him. The girl hid her box in-between the sofa pillows and the slats, and followed.

A stepladder led down into an underground cave. Seven mounted holes in the wall pushed seawater into a pool in the cave’s centre. Around the wall a few candles were burning. As the lighthouse keeper turned to wave the girl over to him, her hesitation was overcome by curiosity and wonder. She tiptoed over on her cold little feet. 

“There you go”, the lighthouse keeper said, as he directed the girl to a stand-still at the very edge of the pool.”Look down into the water. What do you see?”

At first, the only thing the girl could make out was her own pale reflection.

“Let go of all thoughts”, he said.”See with your inner vision. Can you feel the sea?”

The girl’s eyelids softened, and she nodded her head to one side.

“I…. Feel the sea”, she said.”And the sea… knows me.”

The lighthouse keeper was very pleased with this result, and allowed himself a smile.

“Ask the sea what she would like to tell the lighthouse keeper today?”

Images, sensations, and sounds fly from the surface of the pool and through the girl. The lighthouse keeper stood back a little, and captured all the messages from behind her in his fishing net.

#4

A sunbeam pokes at Elfie’s eyelids. She blinks herself awake and looks around the bedroom. Its slanted ceiling, dormer window and walk-in closet used to make it feel cozy and peculiar, like her own little hideaway at the top of the house. Now, perhaps since she has taken the bed frame, curtains and rugs with her when moving out, the room appears a barren attic conversion.   

Elfie reaches for her mobile phone, which is charging on the floor. Thomas has sent a message:

“Morning beautiful, I’ve gone w your dad to town for the van. Didn’t wanna disturb your sleep! See you in a bit xx”

Elfie puts on a pair of jeans and a warm sweatshirt, and walks down to the kitchen. She rolls a cigarette whilst waiting for the coffee to brew, and heads out on the porch.

Her mother emerges from the outhouse, loading a big sack of things onto the driveway. When she sees Elfie she squints and walks over.

“But good morning Elfie!” she says.

“Hi mum. Sorry I haven’t been much help this morning. Anything I can do?”

“Oh, don’t apologise – we are so happy you’ve traveled all the way to help us. Wonderful that Thomas could come, too, he seems lovely. Why don’t you start by tidying up your old room? I’ve got some spare moving boxes if you need.”

“Okay”, says Elfie.

Her mum starts heading back to the outhouse.

“Oh, by the way Elfie”, she turns her head. ”I don’t know which of you used the shower last night, but will you remind Thomas that we are scarce on hot water here? It’s not like in the big city.”

“Sure”, says Elfie. She stubs her cigarette, and goes back upstairs.

The first half hour of organising flies by. Elfie rips down paintings and posters from the wall, throws rubbish off the desk, and shucks books into different piles on the floor. When it is time to go through the walk-in closet, however, things get complicated. Underneath the clothing rail is a haphazard collection of stuff. Soon Elfie is sitting on the floor, surrounded by old notebooks , photographs and boxes. She looks for a thread – something to hang her memories upon – but wherever she tugs, she finds only knots and dead ends.

When her father comes to knock on the door a couple of hours later, she is still sitting at the same spot, on the floor of the walk-in closet, staring at something in her hand. Her father closes both doors behind him, and crouches down on the floor beside Elfie.

“What have you got there Elfie?” he asks.

She holds up a photograph. The image shows a summer’s day on the beach. Young Elfie and another girl, with dark hair and raven-like eyes, sit together on a spread-out towel. They gleam in each other’s company, wearing pink sun hats and Disney-princess-themed bikinis.

“That’s out at Stone Bay?” Elfie’s father says.

“I think so. Do you remember taking this photo?”

“Can’t say I do. It’s a nice photo of you, if I may say so!”

Elfie points at the other girl in the picture.

“What about this friend that I’m with, can you recall her name or where she’s from? I don’t remember her.”

Her father squints, 

“I don’t know, it’s a long time ago”, he says, and gives Elfie a squeeze on the shoulder.”But hey, your mum just sent me up to tell you that dinner is ready, care to join us?”

As soon as they have left Elfie’s room, and the familiar smell of her mothers cooking greets them in the stairwell, everything feels a little more like normal. The inquisitive thoughts concerning old photographs and childhood memories drift from Elfie’s mind, and she accepts her fathers hug.

“It’s so good to see you, Elfie!”

#5

Before long, the girl did not remember who she had been before the lighthouse keeper took her in. He taught her to read, write, and prepare fish. Once a fortnight, she got to assist him in the underground cave. She felt that, perhaps, it was her destiny to end up there, as the lighthouse keeper’s student and assistant. She was not allowed to go outside, but she did not mind. The lighthouse keeper had explained that the sunlight could harm her “inner vision”. Every evening, around the time the girl grew sleepy and curled up on the sofa, he retreated up the stairs. He usually carried with him cauldrons filled with wood, or some curiously shaped glass bottles. At night, she could sometimes hear a mumbling from the chamber above—as if he was reciting sea shanties or prayers.

One evening, when the girl had sat absentmindedly reading a book about sea-travel, she felt bored, and mustered the courage to ask;

“What is it that you do in the tower at night?”

The lighthouse keeper hesitated. He could not tell if the time was right, if the girl had matured, or simply asked out of curiosity. But he had to know.

“Help me carry this cauldron”, he said.

Before they entered the chamber at the top of the stairs, the lighthouse keeper stopped to tie a cloth around the girl’s eyes.

“Your eyes are not used to the light”, he said.

Inside, she waited whilst the keeper prepared the lantern. She heard footsteps as he was moving about, and odd clunks of wood thudding together. He asked her to repeat with him a small incantation. Then, she heard a spark, and a flicker of light pierced through the blindfold. As the light grew, the heat in the chamber intensified. The girl felt her body swaying side to side.

“Tonight it is your turn to watch the fire”, said the lighthouse keeper. His voice sounded dusty and far-away, as if he was speaking through thick smoke. ”If you struggle to stay awake, or notice that the flames are about to die, run downstairs and get me immediately, understood?”

“Tonight it is my turn to watch the fire”, the girl repeated with a dizzy nod.”If I struggle to keep my eyes open, or notice that the flame is about to die, I will run and get you immediately.”

The moment the door shut, and the keeper’s footsteps descended the stairs, the girl slid down like a rag on the floor. She pushed the blindfold off her face, and gazed straight at the violent light-dance. She wondered if the fire would like to talk to her.

#6

“You know the lighthouse on the Northern Peninsula?” Elfie says over breakfast on Sunday.

“What about it?” says her mother.

“Is it still in service?”

“No”, says her father.”It shut down 20 odd years ago. Coastal navigation is these days done primarily by electronic means. I remember there were talks about turning the old lighthouse into a tourist attraction. But the council never got round to it.”

“That’s odd, because when me and Tom came with the car Friday night, we got lost and ended up at the gulf on the mainland – you know where Wesley has a summerhouse? – and I could swear I saw a light from the Island.”

“That is odd”, her father says.

“It must have been a buoy or a boat”, says mum.

“It looked just like the light from a lighthouse. Didn’t it, Tom?”

Thomas shrugs,

“I really wouldn’t know.”

The conversation at breakfast ends there, but Elfie continues to ponder about the lighthouse as the day commences.

“I had such a strange dream last night”, she tells Thomas as they are packing the van.

“What happened in the dream?” Thomas says.

“It was a moon-lit night, and I stood on the beach looking at the lighthouse on the Peninsula. The moon came down like a meteorite, and crashed into the sea. Then a huge wave rose from the horizon, and swallowed the lighthouse and the cliffs in front of me… There was like nowhere to hide, so I just stood there. When the wave hit me I woke up.”

Thomas rushes forth to help Elfie with the box she is carrying – whilst she recalled the dream her arms went weak, and she was about to drop it.

“Right”, he says.”Er, did anything ever happen out by that lighthouse?”

Before Elfie has the chance to respond, her mum turns the corner of the van and smiles at them.

“What, are you still going on about that lighthouse Elfie? You should give Thomas a tour around the Peninsula, so he at least knows what you are talking about. It is a peculiar landscape out there, steeped in local legend. Some say it is haunted by the vicious ghost of an old lighthouse keeper. Why don’t you go this afternoon?”

“Don’t you need our help driving this into town?” says Thomas.

“Oh, no, you’ve already helped us more than enough. I think we can manage from here. You two enjoy yourselves!”

They drive Thomas’ car out through curvy country roads. Where the woodland area ends, there is a small field that leads out unto the cliffs above the beach at Stone Bay. Elfie remembers parking here before, when going swimming as a child. To get further out on the Peninsula, one has to continue by foot. The lighthouse looms over white cliffs in the distance.

“It’s a cool landscape”, Thomas says.”Beautiful in a sort-of haunting way. You come from a nice place.”

Elfie says nothing.

“Look”, Thomas says,”I get it. Family is hard, packing up your childhood home is hard. Or is there something else bothering you?”

Elfie shakes her head.

“No, I’m sure you’re right. I’m just sensitive. Come on…”

She takes his hand, and they cross Stone Bay together.

#7

The girl awoke on a cold floor. Confused, she removed the blindfold, which had twinned itself around her neck, and pulled herself up by the window ledge. Stars were dancing in the sky outside, and darkness engulfed the sea. Turning her gaze towards the peninsula, she spotted a small light bobbing along on the beach.

‘Surely the keeper isn’t out walking this time of night?’ she thought.

Then she remembered the events of last night. She ran down the stairwell.

“What is it?” the old man rose from his desk.

“I fell asleep – the fire has gone out!” said the girl.”I’m sorry.”

The lighthouse keeper grabbed a bundle of wood, and started up the stairs. Soon, the girl heard him shout,

“Do not worry, girl, no harm has been done!”

She gave a sigh of relief, and wondered again about the mysterious light on the beach. Who would it belong to, if not the lighthouse keeper? She threw a glance upstairs, and snuck out the front door.

It was too dark to see far ahead, and the night air felt cold and dangerous. She recalled being a young girl, approaching the lighthouse for the first time; how easy she had been on her feet then. But in the dark, her balance betrayed her, and when one foot tramped sideways, she fell. Her knees scraped against rocks as she slid downwards, ending up with a loose hold on the edge of the cliff wall, as her lower body plummeted into the sea. She was in shock and in pain, and could feel tears incoming.

A pair of rough hands grabbed her shoulders.

“What in the name of the Lord do you think you’re doing?” said the lighthouse keeper.

“I saw something – “, the girl said.”A lantern -“

He lifted her up on the walkway and dragged her half-limp, wet body back towards the lighthouse.

“Did you let the fire die on purpose?” the old man barked.

“No – I fell asleep – I swear it was an accident -“

The girl hardly recognised her caretaker – he looked wild and awful. Perhaps the shadows of the night were playing tricks on both of them – making ghouls out of friends and friends out of ghouls.

When they were back inside, and the keeper sees the girl’s teary eyes, and pale, naked feet, his expression changed.

“Oh, I’m sorry I got angry – come here. I was just worried. Let me look at those feet – girl, you are bleeding!”

 A few days later, they were back in the underground cave.

“Let go of all thoughts”, the lighthouse keeper started.”Listen to the sea, feel the sea… Ask her what she would like to tell the lighthouse keeper today?”

The girl was so used to the occult slideshow of the sea, she hardly attempted to concentrate. Then she heard the sound of a boat-whistle, and in the next breath she saw herself in the cabin of a ship. Ahead of her was young man with a lantern. She followed him up a set of stairs toward the deck. When the young man turned around to offer the girl a hand, she got a whiff of floral blossoms and salt.

“Watch out!” said the lighthouse keeper, grabbing her arm.

“What?” said the girl.

“You were about to fall headfirst into the pool. Be careful!”

The old man stood back and shook his fishing net. It was empty.

“The girl’s vision got harmed from the excursion the other night”, he grumbled to himself. “I should have known.”

#8

Thomas tries the door, but the lighthouse is locked.

“Wait here”, Elfie says.

She lets go of his hand, and disappears around the grey building.

Thomas hears a crash.

“Elfie!” he calls.

Soon he hears another sound, two thuds in succession, and before he has tied one and two together, the entrance door swings open, and Elfie stands there.

“Come on in!” she says.

The ground floor of the lighthouse feels, just like Elfie’s dad had suggested, like no one has been for 20 years. The room is clear of decorations, except for an old wooden desk underneath the smashed window. Dust hangs thick in the air, and a soft, alluring light shines from above.

Elfie and Thomas start up the grand staircase without saying a word. The topmost chamber appears to be calling them. Halfway up, Elfie stops, letting out a light gasp. She tugs Thomas’ sleeve.

“Look – “, she says, pointing to the step above,”a trail of blood! What if someone is up there?”

Taken by Elfie’s anxiety, Thomas bolts up the remainder of the stairwell. When he finds the culprit to the blood-trail, he nearly laughs. He goes on to the window to take in the view, assuming that Elfie will catch up and join him. But she stands frozen in the doorway, bearing a pale and fearful expression.

“Elfie?” Thomas turns to look at her.”Are you alright?”

The corner of her mouth hangs sideways, and her huge eyes are staring emptily. She points at the pigeon with a trembling hand. It lays still with one wing open, in a pool of grey feathers and thick crimson blood.

#9

An idea had come to the girl in her dream. She sat up on the sofa, and took out the box from its hiding place.

“Brave knight”, she whispered, her lips to the lid,”I wish the lantern bearer returns, and shows me the way out of this prison.”

The lighthouse keeper came down the stairwell. The girl was so lost in her own world that she had not heard his footsteps descending. He swung the front door open, and stood aside.

“Go”, he said.

“Are you talking to me?” said the girl. 

“Go.”

Through the entrance hallway flicked a soft morning light. It had been many years since the girl last saw the light of the sun. She gave the old man a questioning gaze. He looked away.

“Your vision belongs not with me”, he said.”It was perhaps a mistake to keep you here. Please move along now, before I change my mind.”

The girl put on her raincoat, which had by now grown a few sizes too small, and secured the box in a tight grip. She looked at the old lighthouse keeper one last time, before walking out the door. A rowing boat laid docked on the shoreline, expecting her.

“Look!” the girl said to the ores.”The lantern bearer!”

She pointed East, towards the yellow-lit horizon.

When the girl had rowed a small distance away from the shore, her arms started aching.

“I have errands to run back on the island”, said the brave knight.”Let me ease your burden!”

The girl threw the box overboard, and continued rowing. The lantern was rising further and further up in the sky, whilst she moved further and further out at sea. Where they met, the lantern-light penetrates all. The girl threw her raincoat to the side, and laid down in the rowing boat. Everything: the sky, the sea, the boat, the ores, the girl, and the lantern, were finally One.

#10

Thomas has not had time to take in what has happened, before Elfie runs down the stairwell. Exiting the lighthouse, she skips down the rocks to the shoreline, and wades into the sea. The contents of her pockets – the tobacco pouch, a tampon and a couple of napkins – scatter on the waves behind her.

“Elfie!” Thomas runs as close as he dares to the shoreline.”You’re not thinking straight! It’s the middle of winter!”

Ignoring his pleas, Elfie crouches down, sticks her hands underneath the surface, and retrieves a little tin box from the bottom of the sea. Her lips shiver as she inspects the rusty engraving of a knight on the box’s lid.

“Can I tell you something Tom?” she calls, without lifting her gaze.

“Of course”, says Thomas.”Anything!”

Elfie turns, and starts wading back towards Thomas and the lighthouse. Her coat hangs heavy, drenched in salt water, and her skin is shivering pale. But her eyes, which in the lighthouse chamber had been absent and confused, seem ignited by a sudden stroke of clarity.

“I had a childhood friend called Irene”, Elfie begins.”Her family were renting a holiday home on the island, just for the summer, and we got talking on the ferry one day. I invited her over, said I’d show her round…”

Thomas offers Elfie a hand to get her back on land, and proceeds to help her out of her coat and trousers. The process is somewhat awkward, as Elfie refuses to let go, both of the tin box and her monologue, meanwhile.

“…As it turned out, Irene, with her fearless attitude, was the one showing me places I hadn’t been before. We’d break into empty houses, spy on neighbours, and climb the cliffs in search for hidden caves and treasures.”

“Sounds fun”, says Thomas, whilst hugging his own coat, and all warmth he can muster, around Elfie.

Elfie shrugs.

“It was. But I was of timid character, and though I admired Irene, I didn’t share her need for risk-taking. On the day of her disappearance, I was completely immersed in a book. I recall my dad coming over to to spot where I lay reading on the cliffs, asking, ‘Where’s Irene?’.”

Elfie makes a pause, and looks intently at the box, as if it may tell the answer. 

“Dad surveyed the whole Peninsula, calling out for her. When he returned he had a worried look on his face. Then I said, ’It’s okay dad, I think her parents came to pick her up. I’m sure she mentioned it. Typical of Irene to dash without saying good-byes.’ And dad went, ‘Oh Elfie, must you have your head in the clouds? You and wild Irene are an impossible duo.’ And then we went home.”

Elfie’s tears tap-tap-tap the box’s lid.

“It’s so stupid. I don’t know why I lied like that… It wasn’t the first time Irene had stirred up worry. I must have been fed-up with it.”

“It’s not your fault, Elfie”, says Thomas.”You were only a child. Didn’t you father check in with Irene’s family?”

“I don’t know”, says Elfie.”Our families didn’t really see eye to eye. I got the sense my parents thought I was ‘too good’ for Irene somehow… 

I have a vague memory of the police coming round. My parents must have spoken to them, but they never mentioned anything about it, and I never asked.  All I know is that I never saw Irene or her family again, and over time the whole thing started to seem vague and unreal, like a dream… If Irene had turned up alive, don’t you think someone would have told me?”

“But“, Thomas says,”had she been found dead, then surely -“

“I’m not sure. As you said yourself, I was only a child. If she was dead, because of me, I’d rather not have known.”

Elfie hugs the box to her chest and her tears feed the ocean. ‘Don’t worry’, the knight seems to say.’Your friend just went on a great adventure.’

It’s only later, when they are tucked up together in the warmth of Elfie’s bed, that Thomas thinks to pry the lid open. The box is filled with beautiful seashells and ocean-curved stones, perfectly organised and preserved. Elfie smiles. It is as if long, long ago was only yesterday.

#