Castle Cormac

She hated the taste of the coast. The brine on the air floated indifferently over the cold sands of Castle Cormac and on towards the tiny fishing village that was home to fewer than two-hundred residents. The wind was brisk. It was like a slap across the cheek and, combined with the salty air, Faith could feel her skin drying, threatening to crack. “How long?” she asked Joe, her question loaded with an intent that she wanted him to say sooner rather than later.

“You know how long.” His voice was sober. “We have to wait for first light.”

“This is just ridiculous. Do you actually think she’ll show up?”

Joe had tolerated these questions for the past four nights, and now, he just wanted to be alone. He didn’t care if she didn’t believe him. “Just go, okay. Just go.”

“It’s not that I want to go-”

“What is it then!” he snapped. The flash from the lighthouse on his face was like the forewarning of impending rage.

Faith jumped at the sharpness of his reply. Joe was never this brusque. “It’s… I just… this is not fun. For you, or for me. We’ve been-”

“I never said this was going to be fun. What part of ‘lonely soul’ sounds fun to you?”

“I know that. I know this is supposed to be heart-breaking, but…”

There was that word: ‘supposed’. Joe knew she didn’t believe him. Why should she? This was ridiculous. The ‘Grey Widow of Castle Cormac’ was an obvious hoax.

The biggest problem for Joe now though, was that he knew otherwise.

He was calm now. He knew this is how it would be. He knew she’d be tired. They were both fatigued. They were both cold. No matter how many layers of clothing they wore, once four o’clock came, the chill seemed to come from inside. “Faith. I know this isn’t your thing. I’m not angry at you. I just… this is something I need to do.” He took a step towards her and pulled her close, kissing her tenderly to remind her this was not a deal breaker. “You go back and I’ll stay. I’ll be with you before eight. Okay?”

Faith was unsure what to do. She didn’t want to jeopardise anything between them. She was at the age now to know that relationships like this don’t come along often. She didn’t want to be alone on this next birthday. It’s when life began, so they say. “The bed will be nice and warm.”

Their embrace was strong and he gave her one more kiss which she held onto before letting go.

He watched her as she disappeared over the dunes before walking over to the cliff edge. He would have a good view of both the lighthouse and road back to the Bed & Breakfast. Even though it was a walk of less than half a mile, and even though there had only ever been one mysterious disappearance on the island in over five hundred years, you never really could shake off the paranoia of the big city.

Joe couldn’t help but smile as she picked up the pace into a casual jog every twenty steps or so. She was always wary of the night. She still slept with a light on in her flat.

As she hurried up the stepped path that led to the green door of the B&B, she gave a final wave in Joe’s direction. He waved back, but knew she wouldn’t be able to see him. For every voice that told him to break up with her, another told him he should be grateful for her quirks.

Another wind pushed against him, causing him to take a steadying step forward before turning back to the sea from the overhang of the cliff that stood thirty feet above the sands.

There was another wave that passed over him, though, this time, it wasn’t a wind that caused it, and it wasn’t travelling inshore. This was travelling out. Over the edge. He could see it: the shadow.

And then it was gone.

It was her. He was sure of it. Maybe she’d waited for him to be alone. There had been talk of a curse.

He ran towards the steps that led down to beach. He was going to talk to her.

This time.

Faith climbed the stairs. Aisling always left a light on for them so they wouldn’t trip over anything.

“It’s a low energy lightbulb, dear.” The old lady had informed them on the first night. “I could bill you for the electricity, but it’d come to pennies. You can leave a tip for the widow if you like.”

Faith hated thinking of the widow when she was alone. It was as though she was everywhere but where you wanted her to be. If she’d shown herself that first night, she and Joe could’ve had a lovely relaxing long weekend.

She opened the bedroom door as quietly as possible, cringing at every groan of the old door. The dank welcomed her in. She was fine about this. The house was two hundred years old. Dank was part of the ambience, as too was the steady flash from the lighthouse.

She went to the window and opened it slightly so she could see past her reflexion.

There was a dark outline of the cliff and beneath that, the dark sands. The Atlantic Ocean looked still, though she could hear the distant rush of the waves along the coastline. She imaged the white foam as the waves crashed against the rocks that surrounded the bay.

She gasped. She saw movement. Not actual movement, but a steady advance of a figure on the beach each time the lighthouse shone down on it.

It was a woman. From this distance, and in this light, it looked as though she was dressed in black. But Faith knew better. It was her. The grey widow.

The chill ran through her and she hurriedly laced her shoes up again. She needed to get to Joe.

As she sprinted out of the room, she didn’t care about the noise she made. Her foot hit the bannister and she almost went head first down the old wooden stairway. From the master bedroom, she heard the old woman call to her. She expected it to be words of caution to take care, but as she thought back later, as she tried to work out what she’d said, the only words she could hear were: “It’s too late.”

The sun was getting close to the horizon. The dead black of the west was now in deep contrast to the light of the east and as Faith stumbled unsteadily down the steps that led to the beach, the only light still came from the lighthouse.

She came to a halt as she reached the soft, rippled ground beneath her that led out. She was still, scanning the horizon for a figure to illuminate. It was only now that the lighthouse was deciding to take a lifetime to shine back on them.

“Come on, will-”

Her words were cut off as the light hit the two figures a hundred yards away. They were close to each other as though talking, lover to lover.

Cautiously, she moved towards them.

The light hit them again. This time, they were stood toe to toe, the man looking down on her as though ready to kiss her.

Faith felt herself begin to run, but was unable to call out. She just wanted to get to them.

Once more, the light hit them. The woman had her hand up to the man’s cheek and he was reaching up to take hold of it. Faith was only fifty yards away now and could see the outline of Joe’s raincoat clearly.

Her voice croaked, “Stop…”

They were dark again. Next time, Faith would be close enough for them to hear her, no matter how choked her voice was.

The light hit the rocks to the south of the bay and began its rush across the water to the beach. She would see them soon. She would jump between them. Whatever had come over her man, she would put a stop to it.

The light hit the two of them causing the woman’s face to dazzle her before both of them disappeared.

Faith came to a stop. Her heart felt like it was going to burst from her chest as it pounded relentlessly. Her voice was little more than a whisper: “Joe…”

She wanted to tell him she loved him. She wanted to tell him she would sleep with the light off if that’s what he wanted.