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'You've told me a lot about your father, his years in the Royal Navy. Their tradition of honour and service. How do you think he'll react when he learns you're facing court-martial?'
I told him I wouldn’t know. Another lie, one I sure he recognised as such. It was a rhetorical question from the Captain. Jonathan, the man who shares my life, knows very well what my father would think – that I had simply fulfilled his expectations. The truthful answer would be that his opinion was of no interest to me, having lost all respect for the man years ago.
But I realised something as I sorted the jumble of my thoughts while sitting there in the brig. I did care about what one member of my family would have thought, and I knew what she would have wanted me to do about the mess I’d made of things.
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Gran loved to sail, and although my own experiences on the water were decidedly mixed, I treasure my memories of sailing with her on the Eala Bhan. This is probably at least partly because my father was never along. She never made any secret of her disapproval of her son-in-law’s parenting style, and I don’t recall them ever spending time together on a boat. But she understood me, and accepted me as I was.
Lighthouses… right. It would never do to simply approach one by land – that didn’t really count for her list. She needed to spot it from the boat, preferably when its light pierced the grey skies of a rainstorm or shone forth at dusk. In truth, there wouldn’t have been much to see had we been on foot. Automated many years before, most of the lights around Britain were untended and closed to visitors.
But she had her favourites. On her native Isle of Skye, the Neist Point light on the western tip of the island had been restored to original condition, and I think she saw it as her personal beacon, her welcome home.
As a teenager, I’m sure I didn’t understand the appeal of such a steadfast beacon. But I do now. There is a light that calls to me when I’m in danger of losing my way. It’s not built of stone and glass… but it guides me just as surely. Even now, after I turned my back on it… on him… his eyes tell me that although I caused that light to flicker, it still can lead me home.
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Perhaps it’s time I did. I take his hand and sit close to him.
“Jonathan, my grandmother collected lighthouses…”
