Dad poked his head around my door at 10:23 p.m. I was laying on top of my bed in my pajama shorts and T-shirt. It was too hot to get under the sheets.
“It wasn’t Teddy on that ferry,” Dad said sadly. “It was just a little boy who looked the same on his way to see his grandparents in Holland.”
“Well, that’s good, isn’t it?” I said, pushing myself up onto my elbows. “If it was him, he could have been anywhere by now!”
Dad didn’t look so sure.
“He could still be anywhere. Anyway, try not to think about it and get a good night’s sleep, okay?” He turned to go.
“Dad? Can I ask you something?”
He took a couple of steps into my room.
“You know Old Nina? Why does she have that lamp on in her window all the time?”
Dad rubbed his chin.
“Ah, well, that’s a sad story, actually. Really sad.”
He perched himself on the edge of my desk and I laid down and looked up at the Wallpaper Lion as I concentrated on his voice:
“A long time ago, when Nina wasn’t very old, she went on holiday to Norfolk with her husband, the vicar, and their son, Michael. He was eleven years old at the time.”
I looked at him.
“A son? I didn’t know she had a son.”
Dad nodded. That must be the boy that Jake and I had seen in the photos on Halloween.
“They’d been going to the same cottage every year since Michael had been born, spending a week by the sea. On the third day of this particular trip they settled themselves on one of the beaches and Michael headed off on the long walk to the sea. Norfolk is very flat, you know, and at low tide the sea can roll away so far that it disappears from view, so Nina and the vicar knew their son would be gone for a while.
“Midday came and Michael still hadn’t returned for his lunch, but they weren’t worried. Like I said, the sea was such a long way away, and he would have spent a good while having a swim before he made the trek back again. They kept thinking that any minute now they’d spot his figure growing bigger on the horizon as he headed toward them.
“Another hour passed, and then another, and then the sea began to rumble in. It was then that they alerted the coast guard.”
Dad stopped for a moment and stared at my carpet.
“A team of boats searched into the night, but Michael was never found. They drove home in darkness, and when they got back to the Rectory, Nina switched on the lamp that was in the window. They stayed up all night waiting for news, but none came. Morning arrived and the lamp was left on and forgotten about, but when it got dark that evening Nina looked at the warm orange glow and decided there and then to leave it on permanently. She felt the light would somehow show her son the way home.”
I shivered and pulled the sheet over me.
“They never found out what happened to him?”
Dad shook his head.
“No.”
“And she’s still waiting? She’s been leaving the lamp on, hoping her son is going to come back after all these years?”
Dad stood up.
“I doubt it after all this time. It’s probably become just a comfort to her now.”
He rubbed his hair and gave a yawn.
“Right, it’s getting late now, young man. You’d better get some sleep.”
He walked out of my room and went to close the door.
“Can you leave it open tonight, please, Dad?”
“Sure,” he said and he pushed the door a little wider.
I rolled over and closed my eyes, but all I could see was the face of the boy with the freckles in the photo in Old Nina’s hallway. I imagined his wet feet padding along the pavement and pictured him standing in front of the old, black door in his sodden swimming shorts, dripping sea onto the path. He’d bang the heavy knocker, a puddle circling around him as he waited on the step. Old Nina would open the door and scream in delight as she threw her arms around him. She’d usher him inside and wrap him in a towel and a warm blanket.
Sorry, Mum. That took a bit longer than I expected.
His mum would hold her hands to her face as she stood, mesmerized by the glorious boy standing in front of her.
You’re back! she’d cry. You’ve come back to me at last.
And all because she’d kept the orange lamp burning brightly to guide him home.