Life as a lighthouse keeper on a remote Scottish island isn't always the most exciting. Especially since she split with her husband, Mark. Yet, Holly loves her job, her friends, and her life on Bishop's Isle.
Until, one day, strange...things start to wash ashore. Dangerous things she has never seen before. Frightening things that nobody else on the island can explain.
Now, Holly must overcome a whirlwind of troubles and use her lighthouse to try and signal for help, and hope against hope that somebody sees her, and the island's, desperate plea in time...
When Mark saw the body washed up on the beach, the first thing he thought of was his ex-wife.
He’d been cleaning the storm windows at the top of the lighthouse when he saw it. He was thinking about packing it all in, abandoning his self-imposed exile and returning to the city – just as he’d once thought about leaving the city for the sanctuary of some distant stony shore. He hated days like this, he’d never got used to them. The morning air was heavy with fine rain, covering every surface with a damp sheen. The February wind was cold and quick, biting even beneath his thick yellow coat.
He dropped the squeegee into the bucket of now-cold water and wrung his hands to try and coax some life back into them. He turned towards frothy greyness of the sea and sky, stamping his feet. The wind roared in his face, freezing against his sodden auburn beard. His winter coat, Holly had called it once. Fat load of use it was doing now. His eyes scanned out across the horizon, watching the wheeling of gulls and the slow crash of waves against the rocks.
And there, gently rocking out of the tumult, was the unmistakable shape of a body.
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Portuguese
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Already translated.
Translated by Evelyn T M Martins
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