Dawn at the Lighthouse

The storm blew itself out a little before dawn. Astrid woke to an extraordinary silence, the kind that only comes after days of roaring wind, and to Erik's arm heavy across her waist.

She lay still for a long time, watching the light grow at the window. The sea below was flat and pewter-grey, glassy all the way to the horizon. There was no reason, now, for him to stay.

They ate breakfast without talking much. He checked his boat. It had survived in the shelter of the boathouse, with a little water in the bilge. He bailed it out while she watched from the jetty, her arms wrapped around herself against the cold.

'I'll come on Tuesday,' he said. 'With the supplies.'

'Yes.'

He started the engine. The little blue boat pulled away from the jetty, and Astrid stood watching it shrink against the vast grey sea, and felt something tear quietly inside her.

Halfway across the sound, the engine cut out.

For a moment she thought something was wrong. Then she saw him standing up in the boat, looking back at the island. He stood there for a long time. Then he turned the boat round.

She was waiting at the end of the jetty when he came back, and she caught the rope he threw her and pulled him in.

'I forgot something,' Erik said, climbing up onto the planks.

'What?'

He kissed her, there on the jetty in the cold bright morning, with the gulls wheeling overhead and the lighthouse watching over them both.

'To ask if I could stay,' he said.