Story NestGet the app ↗The Lighthouse Keeper’s Last Job
At the very edge of the land, where the grass gave up and the rocks began, there was a lighthouse. And in the lighthouse lived a keeper called Nell, and a cat called Biscuit, who was mostly asleep.
Every evening, when the sky went the colour of warm milk, Nell climbed the one hundred and twelve steps to the top. Biscuit climbed the first three, then waited to be carried.
At the top, Nell had four jobs. First, she polished the great glass lamp until she could see her own nose in it. Second, she wound the big brass handle, click, click, click, so the light would turn all night. Third, she looked out across the sea and counted the boats coming home. One fishing boat. Two little sailing boats. One ferry, full of sleepy people.
“All home,” said Nell.
“Mrrp,” said Biscuit, which meant the same.
The fourth job was the last job, and it was the most important. Nell had to say goodnight to everything the light would look after.
So she did. “Goodnight, fishing boat. Goodnight, sailing boats. Goodnight, ferry and all your sleepy people.”
“Goodnight, rocks. Goodnight, seals on the rocks.” The seals said nothing, because seals are not good at goodnights, but one of them rolled over, which counts.
“Goodnight, little town with your little lights going out, one by one.” And they did go out, one by one, as if they had heard her.
“Goodnight, moon.” The moon, being polite, stayed exactly where it was.
Then Nell switched on the great lamp. The beam swept out across the water, slow and steady, round and round, over the boats and the rocks and the seals and the town. Everything it touched was looked after.
Nell carried Biscuit down the one hundred and twelve steps. She put on her softest socks. She climbed into bed, where she could see the light going round on the ceiling, slow and steady, round and round.
“Goodnight, lighthouse,” she whispered.
And the light kept watch all night, so that everyone else could sleep.
The end.