Page 3 of Harbor Lights

“Yeah, first thing. And I’ve got a long day catching up on appointments. So, I’d better get home and unpack before reality kicks in.”

Together, they strolled onto the quay in the late autumn sunshine.

“You should really look at getting a nurse, or another GP. At least a locum so you could get away more. It’s a big practice for one person.”

“But getting smaller as people move away to the fancy new health center in town.” She laughed off the worry that her practice was shrinking.

“No way! People here love you. You and your dad are the only GPs most people around here have ever known.”

She wanted to say that was the problem. Her rambling, dated surgery gave people the impression she was a dinosaur when, in fact, she spent all her free time attending training and briefings on all the latest medical breakthroughs and technology. She was very proud of how good a GP she was. It just didn’t always shine through her surroundings. She really should get someone in to repair the surgery, even if she couldn’t face renovating the whole house.

“Well, I’m not going anywhere.” She pulled Joey in for a hug.

They planted a kiss on her cheek and whispered, “You should tell her. It’s not right to carry on as though everything’s fine.”

Con pulled away and nodded, not daring to look Joey in the eye. “Maybe I will.”

She wouldn’t, and they both knew it. This had been how it was for so long she didn’t see it ever changing. She turned toward the hill that led to her house. “Thanks for the catch up.”

“Come over on Sunday for dinner,” Joey called after her.

She waved over her shoulder. “Perfect, let me know a time.”

The trudge back up the hill warmed her enough she stripped off her blazer as she entered the house. But the house was almost too warm. The cleaner, Ann, had set the heating before she left. Ann was a godsend. Without her keeping the house and surgery clean and relatively tidy, Con suspected she would have even fewer patients.

She clicked off the heating. There was no need to waste oil. She’d never liked an overly warm house, but since the menopause, her default body temperature was set to uncomfortably sweaty. She made sure her surgery was a pleasant temperature for her patients, but the rest of the house often had the windows wide, even in winter.

She still couldn’t face unpacking her bags and reminding herself of the wedding celebrations, so she wandered into the kitchen. Briefly, she considered yet another cup of tea, but then her eyes drifted to the half full bottle of malt whiskey on the countertop. Why not? Itwasthe end of her vacation.

She pulled a heavy lead crystal tumbler from the shelf and poured a generous measure. Then she headed for her study, the only room downstairs—other than the surgery—with a window unobstructed by shrubs. She settled in her cozy window seat and stared out at the approaching dusk, watching in silence as the darkness descended and lights blinked on, out on Inishderry. All those homes with families getting ready for an evening together. She sipped her whiskey and let the burn warm her inside as she stared into the blackness.

TWO

Shiv Walsh droppedher kitbag in the doorway of the old cabin and sighed at the state of disrepair. A quick wiring job, her grandad had said. Then she was free to stay as long as she wanted.

A traditional cottage, it appeared to have had a new roof installed sometime in the last century, so it was relatively dry inside. But that was where the modernization had ended.

She tested an old armchair for sturdiness before dropping into it, sending up a cloud of dust that made her cough. She pulled up her bandanna while it settled and glanced around the murky surroundings. It was a good thing she wasn’t used to luxury. That’s probably what Grandad had thought. Send the convict up onto the clifftop where no one will ever miss her, if they even knew she was alive.

Her reunion—or strictly speaking, union—with her family had been brief but eye opening. Her granddad hadn’t hidden his lack of enthusiasm for her arrival, and her younger uncle, Eugene, appeared bemused by her existence.

Jim, the oldest brother, had taken her aside and asked how her mom was doing. He seemed relieved to hear she’d been happy with Art for many years and asked Shiv to pass on his love. Shiv thought if you really loved someone, you checked up on them more often than every forty years, but she let it slide.

Her mom had warned her, when she’d finally got her phone charged and called from the airport, not to expect too much from Granddad Desmond. She’d begged her to come home, but Shiv had resisted, tempting though it was. She wasn’t going to put her mom and Art in any danger.

Her granddad had warmed a little when she said she was looking for work.

“You’re a qualified electrician, aren’t you? I remember your mother writing to tell me how proud she was.”

She’d shrugged, knowing he’d never replied to her mom’s letters. “Yeah. I think I’d need to get some assessments or something to transfer my qualifications, but I know what I’m doing.”

He’d looked her up and down like he thought that was highly unlikely.

“I’ve got just the job for you.” That was when he’d explained the idea of her renovating and rewiring the “dated” cabin in return for her staying there for a while.

She’d been more enthusiastic about the assignment than he’d probably expected. It sounded like the perfect place to hide out from people in general and clear her head before she decided where best to focus her efforts on this new continent.

But looking around now, it didn’t feel so perfect. The stone walls were cold and the whole place felt damp. She’d need to check in with her granddad about how much money he was prepared to spend to fix it up.

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