Page 31 of Harbor Lights

“It’s no problem,” Marianne said. “If Denny’s car seat had been here you’d’ve been able to sit in it.”

Shiv was already aware of how dwarfed she was by the tall couple, but she laughed along, relieved when the short drive was over.

Joey got the boat going and they were quickly out on the water. Shiv pulled on the cap she’d remembered to shove in her pocket and wished she had a warmer coat. Perhaps with all the work she was being offered, she’d be able to afford a new one soon. Marianne was standing alongside Joey in the boat’s small cabin, and Shiv didn’t want to join them in the cramped space. She rubbed her arms while she looked out over the dark water at the sweeping light of the lighthouse as they approached Inishderry.

A noise made her turn. Marianne was opening a locker on deck. She pulled out a long coat. “Joey says you’re to wear this, and it’s best not to disobey the captain.”

Shiv resisted for a moment until a shiver wracked her body. “Thanks.” She pulled on the fleece-lined coat. It cut out the bite of the wind and she immediately felt better.

When they docked, Joey helped her load the island truck with her tools. Marianne then pulled her into the cab. “Joey’s going to take me home, then they can drop you off after the babysitter.”

“Thank you.” Shiv couldn’t argue. There was no way she could get all her tools home alone. She wondered if she should try to get hold of a car. She would ask Christy if he knew of any available. He was the one who transported them on his cargo boat, so he’d surely know if anyone was going to upgrade.

Marianne ran into the house after delivering a peck on the cheek to both of them, much to Shiv’s mortification. A young woman, presumably Aisling, emerged and joined them in the cab. “Hi, Joey.”

“Hey, Aisling. Do you know Shiv? She’s your cousin.”

How many cousins were there on this island of Walshes?

Aisling explained she was Christy and Aoife’s niece, and her father, known universally as Young Tony, even though he was, in Aisling’s words, “getting on a bit,” was the island’s real estate agent. She chattered on about the stories she’d read to Denny for the rest of the journey, and Shiv was relieved when they dropped her off at a large bungalow on the outskirts of the village.

Joey glanced over as they pulled away. “Sorry, she always likes to chat after spending the evening with a three-year-old.”

Shiv leaned her head against the car door and didn’t reply.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. It’s been a long day.”

“And you’re looking forward to some peace at home.” Joey nodded. “I like my own company, too. Sometimes I go out on the boat for an hour to escape.”

“Yeah.” Shiv decided to be more open about her past. It hadn’t hurt with Con, and she trusted Joey, too. “Jail didn’t do a lot for my dislike of being surrounded by people. But your friends and family are so great I kind of like it. For a time, at least.”

Joey nodded. “Much as I loved my life before Mari and Denny, I always knew there was something missing. Life’s better when you share it with someone. Or mine is, anyway.”

Shiv considered that in silence. She’d never thought for a moment about finding a partner and settling down. She had too much important work to do. How would it feel? Like the warm, safe feeling she felt around Con? She blinked away the thought. She was getting too fond of the doctor for her own good. Con was clearly settled in her life alone. She wasn’t looking for someone to complete her. Neither was Shiv.

They finished the journey in silence. With a quick goodbye, she jumped out. Inside, she clicked on the lights, which reminded her nothing now would stop her from getting on with her online research.

She’d had something of a reset the last couple of weeks, but now she could get back to the work of hunting down fascists and exposing them. If she couldn’t do it in person, she’d make up for it online. There was no feeling like immersing herself in work to take her mind off strangely magnetic doctors in tumbledown houses.

* * *

Shiv stoodand stretched her back. She needed to get a better chair if she was going to spend hours in front of her laptop. The equipment she’d ordered from the mainland—a powerful laptop, a large screen and a router that gave her fast broadband internet access—had been quick to set up once she’d got the power connected. After that, it hadn’t taken her long to get back into the swing of her full-time passion.

She’d missed so much over the last year, horrified at how much the political landscape had changed, and how much more acceptable the language of hate had become. It had overwhelmed her for a while and she’d had to take some time away, paddling the little kayak out into the bay until she felt calm again. She’d looked for sea glass on her way back up the beach, but hadn’t been so lucky this time around.

Now back at her screen, she followed trails of far-right behavior to prominent businessmen and politicians.

She’d spoken with Bernie and caught up on their current targets. The Iron Sons had gone from strength to strength this past year. She saw no end to the fight. But it felt real and meaningful, not like this little fairytale island with its friendly, accepting inhabitants. The real world wasn’t like this. It was cold and cruel, and if you let your guard down, it would destroy you.

She filled her water bottle and sat back down for another session of chasing fascists. She’d been on the trail of a well-known face at anti-immigration demonstrations when she’d found he had a connection to an ex-footballer, now a spokesperson for a big fashion brand. Now she was trawling crowd footage with face-recognition software, trying to locate evidence they had been together on numerous occasions. It was excruciatingly slow work, taking all her concentration and energy. But if she found enough evidence to go public, she could reveal him as the racist, homophobic pig he was.

She wondered momentarily if there was any point unmasking these monsters. Did anyone really care anymore? Then she thought about the vulnerable people they targeted. The women who faced violence and abuse every day of their lives. The people who arrived in countries, running from war and horror, with nothing but the clothes on their backs, being scapegoated for all the problems governments and millionaires created. Or the queer kids these people wanted to disappear, or force to conform. She pulled her keyboard back toward her and carried on.

The buzz of her phone distracted her, and she looked up to see it was now dark.Shit, how long was I working?

As she reached for her phone, her stomach rumbled. She wished she’d managed to stock the refrigerator her grandfather had ordered. It still sat in its packaging in the lean-to kitchen.

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