He reached into his pocket and got his phone out, bringing up the messages he’d swapped with Helen on the night of the accident.
Got a proposal for you. H x
Luke looked at the message, as he had hundreds of times already. What had Helen been going to say to him? Their unfinished conversation tortured him to distraction. Perhaps it was something simple like replacing the ancient bedroom curtains or perhaps it was more life-changing, like having a baby. That was one of the other things that they hadn’t had time for. Maybe she’d even talked to BB about it. It was one of the things he’d planned on asking her. But that didn’t look as if it was going to happen. At least not today.
Well, Luke had nowhere to go. He didn’t fancy driving all the way back to Kent tonight so he might as well hang around Lorford for a while. He had some sandwiches in the van and a flask of tea. He’d have himself a little snack and see how the evening unfolded.
A few minutes later, he sat himself on a garden bench in view of the castle, knowing full well that BB would be able to see him. Surely, he thought, she would open the door at some point and, in the meantime, he really was exceedingly comfortable.
Orla crept closer to one of the windows that looked out over the drive to the front gate. What had he said his name was? Luke something. Hansard. That was it. Anyway, his van was still there but, as far as she could make out, he wasn’t in it. Had he walked into the village? If so, it was pretty cheeky of him to leave his van at hers.
Her heart was still racing at him having called. She couldn’t remember the last time somebody had rung the bell and actually expected her to answer the door. All of her shopping was done online and her obsession for collecting meant a constant stream of packages arriving at the castle, but she never answered the door.
She was just withdrawing from the window when something caught her eye. It was him – Luke Hansard – and he was sitting on a bench in her garden. He hadn’t left at all. And he was – what was he doing? Eating a sandwich! Orla’s mouth gaped open at the cheek of it. Her garden wasn’t a public park, for heaven’s sake! For a moment, she thought about knocking on the window, but he might see her if she did that. She could send One Ear out to frighten him off, but the dear dog wasn’t really up to the job. He might look the part with his huge, wolf-like body, but he was far more sheep than wolf in nature.
‘What should I do?’ Orla asked him. One Ear cocked his head to one side, but he really wasn’t any use when it came to such dilemmas.
Orla looked out of the window again, watching as Luke Hansard opened his flask. He was there for the duration, it seemed. Well, there was no use in her standing there watching him. No doubt he’d grow bored once it got dark and would make a hasty retreat when he realised she wasn’t going to talk to him.
She twisted her hands together. There was the tiniest part of her that wished she knew what it was he wanted to tell her about her friend. Helen. Helen Hansard. She’d never known her name. She’d always been Trees and Dreams. But knowing her name now suddenly made her seem more real. Was she in some kind of trouble, Orla wondered? Why else would her husband be here? And why hadn’t he just sent an email like a normal person? He could have contacted her via Galleria, surely.
Orla sat down on the squashy Knole sofa she’d bought via an online auction, not noticing the big rip down the right-hand side. She’d get that fixed at some point. What was troubling her more than the ripped Knole sofa was how Luke Hansard had managed to find her. She hadn’t given out her address to anybody other than her mother, and Luke’s wife hadn’t even known her name. So, how had he found her? As much as she wanted to ask him, she wasn’t sure she wanted to speak to somebody who had so clearly tracked her down. Surely he wasn’t to be trusted. Maybe she should message Helen.
She got her phone out and went to send a message via Galleria.
Hello dear friend. This might sound strange, but there’s a man here who says he’s your husband. Is everything okay?
She hesitated before sending it.
Then she waited, putting her phone down and pacing up and down the room.
Her phone chimed a moment later. She had an answer. Helen at last.
Only the message wasn’t from Helen. Orla gasped as she read it.
This is Luke on Helen’s phone. I really need to talk to you.
Orla usually liked to take a walk on the beach just as the sun was going down, but that wretched man was still there. He’d been sitting in his van for a while, perhaps listening to the radio, but it looked like he was staying the night. He was practically laying siege to her castle and he probably realised that she’d have to come out at some point.
For the first time in her life, Orla cursed having a dog. If it wasn’t for One Ear, she could happily manage without surfacing for at least a week. But there was no way she was going to leave the safety of the castle tonight. One Ear would have to make do with a quick run in the garden.
‘Come on, boy,’ she said, tapping her side. The great beast, whom nobody else had wanted to take away with them from the rescue centre, was up from his mattress like a
