‘I had kind of got that impression, yes.’ He smiled.
‘So I think you ought to stay.’
Luke blinked. He wasn’t sure who was the more surprised: him or Orla.
He laughed. ‘Really?’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘There’s plenty of room, as you can see, and you looked very comfortable in that room you were sleeping in.’ She stopped. ‘And I want to help and I’m sure – quite sure – that Helen would want me to help you.’
Luke swallowed, but didn’t say anything.
‘Look, I can’t begin to imagine what you’re going through but if being here at the castle can help in any small way then I’d love you to stay.’
One Ear came forward and pushed his wet nose into Luke’s hand.
‘I think he wants you to stay too,’ Orla said.
‘Then I’d better not say no.’
Orla smiled, her face lighting up. ‘Good. Then it’s settled. Only, if you truly want to work on the castle, then you must let me cover the cost of materials you need.’
Luke shook his head. ‘Don’t worry. I get things at trade price,’ he told her.
‘No, I insist.’
‘Well, okay. I’ll keep you informed of what we need and you can tell me if that’s good with you.’
Orla nodded as Luke hovered awkwardly.
‘Well, what do we do now?’ he asked with a nervous laugh.
‘How about a cup of tea?’
‘Sounds good.’
They went into the kitchen and Luke put the kettle on as Orla got mugs from a cupboard. Looking out of the window down into the garden, Luke suddenly remembered his meeting in the allotment.
‘I met Bill.’
‘Bill?’
‘Your gardener.’
‘Oh, right, of course.’
‘He has an allotment over there.’
‘Does he?’
‘You’ve never seen it?’
‘No.’
‘It’s a lovely spot.’ Luke paused. ‘He said . . .’
‘What?’
‘He said you only ever leave the castle to go to the beach with One Ear.’
‘Did he?’ Orla’s back was to him as she made the tea and he wondered if he’d overstepped the mark already and possibly endangered his invitation to stay at the castle.
‘You should take a look some time – at the allotments, I mean,’ Luke continued awkwardly. ‘You obviously enjoy your garden. I think you’d like it.’
Orla didn’t respond at first, but moved to the kettle to finish making the tea, presenting Luke with his mug a moment later.
‘Luke,’ she began, ‘if you’re going to stay here, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t question the way I live my life.’
Her eyes held his and he noticed that they were green, only her left one was more opaque than the right. As if sensing the intrusion of his gaze, she turned away.
‘Sorry,’ he said, both for overstepping the mark and for staring at her. ‘I just – I think you’d like it there.’
She paused by the sink for a moment and then made to leave the room.
‘I’ve got some work to be getting on with,’ she told him without turning around. ‘You have everything you need to make yourself at home here?’
‘Yes, thank you,’ Luke said, cursing himself for having riled her and hoping she’d forgive him. But it did make him wonder about her situation and why it was that she chose to shut herself away from the world. Helen had been anxious about that too, hadn’t she?
Once Luke had brought his few things in from the van, he opened his bag and reached inside for Helen’s journal, which he’d brought with him like some kind of talisman – a little piece of her to travel with him – and he turned to the page where he thought he’d read about BB. Orla. And there it was: Helen’s concern about her friend.
I wish there was something I could do to help her. She sounds so isolated. So alone. And scared too, although she won’t tell me why. That’s no way to live, is it? I wish she’d confide in me. I’d love to help.
Luke read Helen’s words again, making a silent promise to her that he would try to help Orla. Luke knew that he had failed to help Helen realise her dreams, but perhaps there was something he could do to help Orla reach hers.
The first morning after Luke’s arrival at the castle was particularly difficult for Orla. She’d slept badly the night before, wondering if she’d made a dreadful mistake in agreeing to his staying there and, several times during the night, she’d been on the verge of ringing her mother for advice. However, a cup of herbal tea, a walk around the great hall and a cuddle with One Ear had calmed her down on each occasion.
Now, though, as Luke got up from the kitchen table and walked to the worktop where the kettle was, she found herself feeling agitated in a way she couldn’t explain. He was babbling about something – a nervous kind of chatter, probably to fill the void of silence between them which she was doing nothing to alleviate.
Orla felt herself nodding, possibly in the wrong places because she wasn’t sure what he was saying. Her head was full of a sort of white noise and that awful panicky sensation filled her.
Luke had put the kettle down and was now standing in front of her. In her space.
‘Are you okay?’
She took a step backwards.
‘I – I need some air,’ she said, and ran out of the kitchen into the green serenity of the garden. She could breathe more easily there. It was just her and the plants. Her little haven.
The next day was just as bad, with Orla seeming to trip over Luke every time she turned around. Perhaps she was overreacting. It was highly likely that she was. She knew she was more susceptible to nerves than most people. But, all the same, she couldn’t help her reaction.
The only cure for her seemed to be long walks on the beach to calm herself, inhaling the salty sea air and finding a space to call her own.
When she got back to the castle, Luke was unloading his van.
‘Just been into town to get some clothes and toiletries,’
