There Is More Light Than Dark

Chapter Two

Friday August 19

I could tell you how the lighthouse looked, just standing there in front of me that day. But I think I really should tell you how I felt, because that is going to be more the point of why I am telling you what happened.

And just why I needed to be there, right at that moment. There was a reason I had to be there; in fact for most of my life it was the only place I really ever needed to be.

Normally a lighthouse is there to be bright and to help guide. I was looking for its thick walls and elevated surveillance. The clandestine living it affords. I needed a place where no one would know I was there and even if they did, they couldn't reach me. I guess at least its trained ability to steer things away from itself might have been an advantage.

And it had to be here, just like we had always talked about.

It's funny that when I think about being happy the first thing I think of is that clunky suburbia that brought me up and pushed me out, by the sheer will and capacity of it to make me sick; to eventually feel alien. But I guess somewhere in there are memories that hold happiness, or at least a sweet and gentle melancholy. A contentedness in summer would seep from the sickly waft of neatly cut grass, the hiss of sprinklers and the hum of the evaporative coolers filling the otherwise still evening air. I figure at least it made me feel like I knew where I was, whether I wanted to be there or not.

But after my Mumma died all of that started to feel claustrophobic. Fake. After she died the only real reason for me to get up and do things was to look for her; to try and find things that did more than just remind me of her. I needed things that were connected to her. Like really connected.

After a while though I thought maybe it could work out without her. I finished school, found a career in graphic design that really suited me and got myself a girlfriend.

But the thing happened with Avery and it kind of wrecked everything but gave me a way out.

Or, really, a way back to what I really had always needed. That whole section of my life had just been a wishful detour away from what had always mattered.

Right from the start after Avery died everybody else had it in for me. Those that thought I did it only ever accused me and didn't listen; those who weren't sure never asked me in case I revealed something that help them make up their minds. Whatever the case, as soon as the cops were finished with me, I ran. I'd been wanting to do it for ages anyway and the whole shebang with her just meant I needed to do it then and there. Maybe I've never stopped running since Mumma died, just that it wasn't always in a direction that counted, I'm not sure. I never wanted the thing with Valentina to finish, that's for sure, but those long nights under the Italian moonlight gave me time and the place to do some thinking and some sorting. I really think I could've made it there with her and the vineyard. I could've even navigated the pressure and the staring of Carlotta from across the room and across her daughter's head. That was going to be it for me, the end of the line in a good way; an end to the run and the chase but, well you'll see, the Gods didn't quite have that as their plan for me.

And none of those lazy, sweet, soft hearted Italians ever knew why I was there. Really why I was there.

And now here I am. Standing in front of the most brilliant white spire you could imagine, happy and content because I remain alone with Lola and no one seems to be chasing me so close anymore. I still listen for them at night and first thing in the morning but slowly I am beginning to let go and live the way I want to live. Doug Prosser and Carlotta Pisano, even from the other side of her grave, would love to see them catch me; I know that. She lost her daughter and she'd blame me if she were here to say it, just like Avery's parents and most of my friends. Back a few months ago Avery saved my life in a way and this time Valentina gave me another – Lola. So, in a way I've had three chances at it thanks to the only three women I've ever loved.

And each of them is now dead and gone.

It's just that nobody else understands or cares that things have worked out that way as much by chance as by me being around them, and that's God's honest truth.

Now I sit with Lola and she asks me lots of questions and I can start to answer some of them in ways that she'll understand and not get hurt from. I hold her tight as I look up at it and squeeze the picture frame tight under my arm. This is the place I have always meant to be.

And I can feel her now, as close as I have ever done since she died.

Somehow though I can feel there's more in store for me, and in ways that I can't put a finger on, but you might ask me how much fate plays a role in where we end up. Given my track record I'd say things are stacked in my favour.

Like, I'm due, you know.

So, I'll go back to when I first got on the plane to head overseas. In some ways it didn't matter where, just to get out of Melbourne and away from the looks and shakes of the head that would surround me. It was in July, and I looked for a part of the world that was likely to be warm but quiet; clean and without any expectations on me. Once the police said I could go, I was on the plane within 24 hours. I was headed for Rome, but it wasn't the city that drew me so much as the space around it. And on the flight I was reassured that it was the right place for me.

The girl I'd found on the Internet – that made it feel so perfect.

Italy was my Mumma's country – I wanted to be closer to everything she had always told me about and let me dream on.

To be honest, it was always going to be Italy.

I wanted to be closer to where she had walked and laughed and slept.

I wanted to be closer to everything she had ever been.

I wanted to be closer to her.

I wanted to be close.

I wanted to be.

I wanted.