Both men stared at me as if I’d just started speaking Spanish.
‘Gen what now?’ Jonah asked.
‘Who?’
I took a sip of the cider and felt it instantly start to warm my blood. ‘Never mind.’
The music stopped, and around us, people started getting up from the long wooden tables and heading in the same direction, towards the town pier.
‘What’s going on?’ I asked, wrapping my fingers around my cup for warmth.
‘It’s time,’ Leo said, putting a small sign up on his stall that said,Back in ten minutes.
‘Time for what?’ I asked Jonah.
He smiled. ‘Time for the turning of the light.’
14
JONAH
It was her turn to look confused. ‘The turning of the what?’
‘The light. This is the Pine Harbor tradition I was telling you about. Come on.’ I put my arm through the crook of hers and started tugging. ‘You’ll understand once you watch.’
We joined in with the throng of people heading towards the pier. It took a long time for anyone to go anywhere in this town, thanks to the fact everybody knew everybody else, and every two steps you had to stop to greet someone. Even if you’d only seen them that morning, it was considered polite to say hello and enquire as to how things were going as if it had been a year since you’d last seen them. It was both painful and a comfort.
Consequently, by the time we made it down the pier to where Celia Hamilton, the town chair, was standing on her little pedestal with a microphone in hand, she’d already started talking.
‘So, give yourselves a pat on the back,’ she was saying. ‘I know it’s not easy to leave the warmth of our houses when it’s as cold as it is, but I feel confident in saying the turnout is even better than last year. When you elected me to the position of town chair?—’
‘I didn’t,’ a man not far from us called out. ‘Don’t blame all of us for that.’
Mae pulled a face, clearly amused. ‘That guy is not her biggest fan, I take it.’
‘That delightful old guy is Ray,’ I told her. ‘And he’s definitely not a fan.’
‘What’s he got against her?’
I shook my head. ‘That’s complicated, and too long a history to get into now. I’ll fill you in another time.’
‘This ceremony was outdated,’ Celia continued, as if she hadn’t heard him. ‘And much smaller. We did it more because it was something we had always done. I’m very pleased to say that over the last few years, we have turned this into one of Pine Harbor’s main calendar events. A night that we all look forward to, residents and visitors. A night that brings us all together. A symbol that we have survived, together, the worst that winter can throw at us.’
‘Who’s she?’ Mae whispered.
‘Celia Hamilton. Town chair.’
‘She seems a touch dramatic.’
‘It’s more than a touch, believe me.’
‘This night is about making sure that, no matter how dark it gets, there is always light to lead our people safely home,’ Celia continued.
‘Wow,’ Mae said.
‘Told you.’
‘As most of you will know, the original light was paid for and donated to the town by the young widow of a Pine Harbor fisherman lost at sea. The light, in various forms, has stood in this spot for over a hundred and eighty years now, guiding our men home. In those days, the oil light couldn’t be tended to over the harsh, stormy winters, and would often get knocked off course, so it would be extinguished through the worst of winter.But once the worst was over, and the light was repaired and maintained, the turning of the light ceremony would take place to tie in with the early fleets that would soon start venturing out onto the water again. The light would be relit, and turned to aim once more out at the channel. And although we now have electrical, official navigation lights that run all year, we maintain the traditional turning of the widow’s light as a symbol. A guide, a sign, that we are always here. Always watching, and always waiting for our brave fishermen and lobstermen to come home.’
