‘Can I talk to you? Inside?’
He closed the van door and followed her and One Ear back into the castle.
‘If you’re worrying about my bill, please don’t,’ he said. ‘There’s nothing to pay.’
‘It’s not about your bill.’ She was looking down at the floor, but then turned her gaze towards him. ‘I was a bit rash, telling you to go like that.’
‘I understand. It isn’t my place to tell you what to do.’
‘No, it isn’t.’
‘But I hope we can part as friends?’
‘Well, I have a problem with that,’ she told him.
‘Oh, I see,’ he said. ‘Well, listen – don’t worry. I wish you well, Orla.’ He turned to leave, hurt that she didn’t want to keep in touch, but understanding her decision nevertheless.
‘No, Luke – you don’t understand. I want us to be friends. The thing I don’t want is the parting bit.’
Luke was confused now. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘I don’t want you to go.’
‘But I – you – I . . .’
‘I know I did. But I’ve changed my mind. Please stay.’
Luke stared at her, shocked into silence by her for the second time that day. ‘You want me to stay?’
‘Yes. I think I overreacted and I’m sorry. I really don’t want you to go, especially not like this. I . . .’ she stopped, seemingly struggling for words. ‘I haven’t had much company in the last few years. I’ve forgotten how to be around people, and you’ve been nothing but kind and thoughtful.’
Luke shook his head. ‘I’ve been a blundering idiot.’
‘No – you haven’t. It’s just that we’re both coming from different experiences and – well – you don’t know what’s happened to me and, without knowing, you can’t possibly understand why I am the way I am. I know what you must think – that I’m odd and eccentric – the village must too, and that’s okay.’
Luke swallowed hard, seeing that it clearly wasn’t okay with Orla, who was horribly pale and on the verge of tears again.
‘Orla – I’m sorry. I do nothing but put my foot in it and upset you. I promise I won’t do that again. I mean, really promise this time! I thought I was doing the right thing. Helen – it’s going to sound odd – but I thought I heard Helen’s voice. She wants to help you. She even wrote about it.’
‘She wrote about me?’ Orla said, her gaze softening.
‘She kept a journal, and I’m ashamed to say I read it. I couldn’t help it.’ Luke gave a hopeless shrug. ‘I needed to hear her voice, even if it was just through her writing. But she was worried about you. Being alone. She wanted to help.’
‘She wanted to help me?’
‘Yes. Very much. And I do too.’
There was a weighty silence between them and Luke couldn’t tell which way things were going to go.
‘Orla? Are we good?’ he asked at length.
She looked up at him and gave the tiniest of smiles. ‘Yes! We’re good.’
‘I can come back in?’
She nodded.
Luke sighed, feeling both relieved that he wasn’t going to have to face home just yet and also nervous at starting again with Orla. There was no blueprint for this, was there? They were two lost souls who had somehow managed to find one another and who were still navigating their way around each other. It would take time, care and patience, Luke understood that now.
‘Luke?’ Orla called as he started to head back out to the van.
‘Yes?’
‘I think it’s probably time.’
‘Time?’
‘Time that I told you about what happened to me.’
Chapter 10
When Luke turned up at Oyster Cottage without Orla, he couldn’t help feeling like a failure. Bill greeted him at the front door and placed a consolatory hand on his shoulder.
‘I can’t say I’m surprised, lad.’
‘I tried.’
‘You did. Don’t take it personally,’ Bill told him. ‘She’s only just beginning to get used to you, by the sound of things. You can’t expect her to want to mingle with the whole village.’
‘She threw me out when I told her about the meeting.’
‘She did?’
‘I packed all my stuff and was about to leave when she changed her mind.’
‘Well, I’m glad to hear that at least.’
‘And she’s going to tell me what happened to her.’
Bill looked as stunned as Luke must have when Orla told him, but they didn’t have time to talk any more because the rest of the horticultural club were arriving and Bill and Margy were kept busy ushering everyone into their living room.
It would have been a fun meeting under normal circumstances and Luke genuinely would have enjoyed himself. The talk about herbs was interesting, with Bill leading the discussion, but everyone chipping in with their own experiences. It was a lovely, friendly group – just as Luke had imagined – with a good mix of ages. Yes, most of the group were retirement age, but there was a couple in their early thirties and a man in his mid-forties.
But, however interesting the talk and however good the company, Luke was finding it hard to concentrate because he was thinking about Orla. Since asking him to stay again and telling him that she’d reveal what had happened to her, Luke had been on tenterhooks. He’d brought his things back in from the van, set his toolbox up in the great chamber, remade his bed and then gone in search of Orla. He’d found her in the china room, dusting and primping. She’d turned round to face him and smiled briefly before turning back to her task. He’d left her to it. When she’d said she’d tell him about what had happened to her, maybe she hadn’t meant at that precise moment.
When evening came, they’d shared a meal at the kitchen table and then took cups of tea into the great hall. He’d
