Page 61 of One Perfect Day in Lovely Bay
Cally sat on a rickety old chair at a worn timber table in a tucked-away corner of the lighthouse. She'd been to the lighthouse many times before, but it was very special being there for a chowder evening. Something exciting and very Lovely indeed. The room was dimly lit, with most of the illumination coming from mismatched candles in old jam jars scattered across the tables. It felt as if she'd stepped back in time or into some sort of parallel universe where people sat around in old lighthouses surrounded by candlelight.
She’d been invited to the speakeasy by way of Birdie and Nancy and had snapped up the tickets as soon as they’d come out. She loved the chowder speakeasies and there was no way she’d ever miss out on a pop-up event at the lighthouse.
Logan sat across from her, his face half in shadow, half-lit by the flickering candlelight. He looked as bemused as she felt. 'Well, this is certainly nice. Cosy.’
‘Is it me, or does it feelreallysecret? Like more than usual?’
‘It does.’
'Nancy said this one goes under the radar.’ Cally giggled.
‘We’re lucky to be here, especially me being a Henry-Hicks and all that. I’m only here because of you.’ Logan joked. ‘You open doors.’
‘Are you saying that I’m more of a Lovely than you?’
Logan laughed. ‘That may well be. It’s your new coat and job.’
'Ahh, it’s weird living here. There's always so much more to Lovely than meets the eye.’
‘Coats, chocolate, and chowder.’ Logan bantered.
As if on cue, Colin appeared at their table, wearing a striped fisherman's jumper and balancing a tray precariously in one hand. 'Evening, you two.'
Cally nodded. 'Evening. This is all very clandestine.'
Colin's grin widened. 'Ah, well, that's the beauty of it, isn't it? A little bit of mystery keeps things interesting. Now, what can I get you? Chowder or would it be chowder?'
Logan leaned forward and played along. 'What sort of chowder do you have?'
'Well,' Colin lowered his voice. 'We've got a smoked haddock chowder that'll knock your socks off. And for those feeling a bit adventurous, there's a curried crab chowder that's been getting rave reviews.'
Cally's eyebrows shot up. 'Curried crab chowder? That sounds... interesting.'
Colin laughed. ‘Nah, just the usual. You get what you’re given. Like it or lump it.’
Logan looked at Cally and played along. 'We'll try the usual, shall we?'
'Excellent choice. And to drink? We've got a lovely local ale that pairs well with the chowder, or there's wine if you prefer. That’s your lot, I’m afraid, unless you want a soft drink. We have plenty of that. Or I can do you a cup of tea.'
'The ale sounds perfect,' Cally said, and Logan nodded in agreement.
As Colin bustled off, Cally took another look around the room. The other tables were filled with a mix of familiar faces, candles flickered, and everyone seemed relaxed and happy. She felt the same, and thankfully, it appeared Logan did too.
'I wonder how long this whole chowder thing has been going on?' Cally mused.
Logan shrugged. 'Decades. I wouldn't be surprised if my great-grandfather used to sneak down here for a secret bowl of chowder.'
Cally smiled as she looked around. One of the things she liked about Lovely was how it seemed to have endless layers of history and secrets. Every time she came across a new bit of the past or a superstition, she fell in love a little bit more. Lovely, just as it had the first time she’d visited, was so different from the horrid grey, miserable world she'd grown up in, where everything had been about caring and the daily grind of getting by. It just didn’t feel like that in Lovely, even when things were far from rosy. Even as Logan had flailed around grieving, Lovely had almost felt as if it had supported her.
Colin returned with two small glasses of amber ale, placing them carefully on the table. 'There you go. The chowder won't be long. Get ready to enjoy – it’s a good one.'
Cally took a sip of her drink, sighed, sat back in her chair, and felt her whole body relax. 'This is good.’
Logan seemed more relaxed than he’d been for a long time. 'It is. It always seems to taste nicer when you’re sitting somewhere like this.’
‘So true. It’s these little bespoke experiences.'
Cally sipped her drink and soaked in the atmosphere; the room was filled with the low hum of conversation, the occasional clink of cutlery against bowls, and from somewhere the faint sound of an old radio playing vintage jazz tunes. The sea glinted in the distance.
