Matty stared at Bill for a moment before speaking.

"Bill, I can explain."

Bill nodded for a second, before walking past her.

"I am really looking forward to that."

He walked into the kitchen, speaking over his shoulder.

"Beer, Matty?"

"Yea, sure," Matty sighed.

Bill stuck his head out through the entrance to the kitchen.

"Nanny Dove? You want a beer? Or some other kind of spirits?"

"Youse be 'bout funny as 'emorrhoids dere Willam."

Bill walked back into the living room and passed Matty a beer. He then sat on the couch, nearest Nanny Dove, pulled an ashtray out of his pocket and proceeded to light a cigarette.

"The name is William, not Willam."

"Ise be callin' youse what I wants and I wants to be callin' youse Willam."

Nanny Dove stopped knitting and glared at Bill.

"And whats did Ise tells youse 'bout smokin' in my 'ouse."

Bill drew hard on the cigarette and turned to her, exhaling as he did.

"This is my 'ouse, Nanny Dove. At least tentatively. And if you didn't allow smoking in your house, why did you have at least a dozen ashtrays under the sink, in the kitchen."

Nanny Dove continued to glare, but finally grunted a little and went back to her knitting.

"Youse nuttin' but a smartassed little shit."

"Nanny Dove?" Matty barked, shocked.

"Oh gives it a rest, child. Youse knows I swears like a dockworker."

She looked back to Bill and sighed.

"Sure wishes Ise could 'ave one dem tings, William, me son."

Matty sat on the couch, opposite Bill.

"Remember Nanny, it was the cigarettes that killed you."

Nanny Dove stared at her granddaughter. 

"Ise was 87 year old, child, when Ise died. It were da fuckin' old age dat killed me, not da smokes."

In spite of everything, Bill started laughing at the banter.

"Okay, someone please tell me what the fuck I have gotten myself into."

Matty took the pack of cigarettes and lit one of them.

"What do you want to know?"

"The bullshit you fed me earlier about the town? How much of that was true?"

Matty nodded.

"All of that is true, Bill. You will, in reality, buy the town, if you sign the papers. And by doing so, purchase all the things that I told you that you will purchased."

"So. Tuckamore Bay will be mine. I will own a decommissioned lighthouse, a broken down fish plant and dock, a dilapidated community center and a shit-load of useless land."

Nanny Dove started laughing.

"Dat 'bout sums it up. Willam 'ere is smarter den he looks."

Matty glared at her grandmother.

"Nanny Dove. I loves ya but ..."

Nanny Dove let out a long sigh and put her knitting back in the hanging macrame basket.

"Okay. Okay. I knows when Ise not be wanted."

She looked at Bill.

"Youse seems likes an okay man, Willam. Ise 'opes youse sticks 'round fer a while."

Bill nodded.

"We will see, Nanny Dove."

She blew a kiss to Matty and disappeared.

Matty stared at Bill.

"I don't know what to say."

"Is Nanny Dove the reason all the other sales fell through?"

Matty laughed.

"What do you think?"

"Well I have to say that it almost worked again."

Matty laughed.

"So what now?"

"How many more Nanny Doves are there wandering around in this village?"

Matty forced a funny little smile.

"Well there is only one Nanny Dove."

"So, I assume, she has a few friends out there."

Matty went silent for a minute.

"I haven't been completely honest, Bill."

"Were you at university when your grandmother died?"

Matty shook her head.

"I took a semester off and came home to look after her. She was the only family I had left in the world."

"And she left everything to you?"

"Yea. But after she died, I did go back to university, finished my studies and I am a lawyer. But my only real client has been this village."

"So why lie about being away when she died? About missing the funeral."

Matty sighed.

"I just thought it might add an emotional aspect to the sale, that might help ..."

Matty shook her head.

"Truth is, Bill, I just ran out of ideas. I was ready to try anything to save this village. I love this village. It is my home."

"I can see why," Bill agreed.

"Short of the ghosts that haunt the place."

He lit another cigarette.

"To be honest, when I stopped this morning and looked down on this beautiful little village, I actually felt like I was home."

He laughed.

"Of course, Henry Tucker and the very unfriendly waves, almost made me change my mind."

"Henry is harmless. He is like most of the people here. He loves this village and he doesn't want to see it be shut down."

Bill stared at Matty.

"Shut down? Please tell me there are not more surprises."

"Fuck."

Matty let out another long sigh.

"Tuckamore Bay is scheduled for relocation at the end of next year."

I shook my head.

"I don't understand. What is relocation?"

"The province of Newfoundland has instituted a new policy by where twenty tiny villages, much like ours are to have all its residents relocated to larger centres.

They will get a fair price for their houses and properties and help with getting mortgages and jobs at the new center. Once they have been given a date, most villages will have a year to relocate and then ..."

"And then what?"

"And then all services will be cut off. Electricity, telephone, television, internet and road service. People can stay and some in other villages have, but they are on their own."

"And just how long does Tuckamore Bay have?"

Matty nodded.

"December 31st, 2021. After that. Well I don't have to spell it out for you."

"So why try and sell the village?"

Matty was silent for several moments, as if looking for the right words, but they came to Bill first.

"You need someone with money to invest in this village and help the village find something that will prove to the government that Tuckamore Bay should not be relocated."

Matty nodded.

"More or less. As you may have noticed, the village has worked really hard making itself attractive. From the cobblestone road to completely repainting the houses and buildings, in bright colours. Putting up little fences and planting flowers and shrubs and such.

Some of the money that you will pay for the village will split among the villagers. The rest will be  used to continue to upgrade the village and do repairs to the community center, the dock and the fish plant.

Many of the men work in St. Anthony, Deer Lake or Corner Brook, from Monday to Friday, but then they all drive home for the weekend and then help with the upgrades to the village."

"And you felt if someone was gullible enough to pay one and a half million dollars for a decommissioned lighthouse, then that person just might have enough money to save the village."

Matty went silent again, biting her bottom lip.

Bill could see tears in her eyes.