One Ear, who’d returned to his basket at some point, was now back by Orla’s side, and she gave a choky sort of laugh and stroked his head.
‘He’s my prince,’ she said softly. ‘My knight in furry armour.’
Luke smiled. ‘Come on. Let’s get you upstairs.’
As she had helped him into bed on that first meeting, so he helped guide her now. She didn’t say anything else as he gently led her to the bedroom and went to get a glass of water for her, placing it on her bedside table.
‘Is One Ear here?’ Orla asked.
‘He’s right behind me.’
Orla put her hand out and One Ear came forward to give it a soft nudge before making himself at home on the floor by the bed, as if knowing his mistress needed him tonight.
‘Leave the hall light on, won’t you?’ she said, aware of how like a child she must sound to him.
‘If you want me to,’ he said. ‘Let me know if you need anything,’ he told her. ‘You know where I am.’
She nodded, her dark hair hiding her face as she sat on the edge of the bed.
He paused before speaking again. ‘And I’m so sorry. What Brandon did to you was unforgivable.’
Luke turned to leave the room.
‘No,’ she said, her voice thick with sleep now. ‘You don’t understand.’
Luke frowned. ‘What don’t I understand?’
Orla took a deep breath before she answered. ‘It wasn’t him. It wasn’t Brandon.’
Chapter 11
As Luke stared up into the darkness of his bedroom, he couldn’t begin to imagine what Orla must have gone through. How did you get over something like that? Well, he saw how – you hid yourself away in a medieval castle – and he couldn’t blame her. There was nothing to adequately describe the fear and the pain she must have endured and he’d never forget her distress when telling him her story.
Although Luke wasn’t a great one for keeping up to date with the news – and he’d certainly never heard about Orla’s attack at the time it had happened, even though it must have been a big story – he knew enough about acid attacks to know that it was a crime which was on the rise. A disturbing fact. How could anyone do something so destructive and inflict so much physical and emotional pain on somebody? Luke just couldn’t imagine how anyone could arrive at such a decision, and he hoped – whoever it was – they were locked away for a very long time.
But, if it hadn’t been Brandon who’d attacked her, then who could it have been? She’d said it was a man wearing a hood. Was it just some random mad person? Had Orla been mistaken for somebody else? Or had she had another mad stalker fan who had managed to hide in the shadows behind the massive presence of Brandon? It had crossed Luke’s mind that he could do an internet search to find out more – if she’d been well known as a model, there was sure to be press coverage about the case. But it would feel like a kind of betrayal if he did, so he didn’t. Perhaps she would continue her story in the morning. One thing was for sure, Luke didn’t think he was going to be able to sleep tonight – not after what Orla had told him. He kept playing it over and over in his mind. The beautiful young woman who’d been enticed to follow a career which so obviously wasn’t a good fit for her. Now he understood why she hid behind a camera these days and how she regretted the day she’d stepped out from behind its protective shield.
As predicted, Luke slept pretty badly, but at least he got a couple of hours at one point. Somewhere between three and four, he thought he heard crying and got up to check on Orla. The landing light was still on and he walked towards her bedroom, gently knocking on the door so as not to disturb her if she was asleep, which he saw she was when he quietly entered. Perhaps she’d been crying in her sleep, he thought, giving One Ear a nod as he backed out of the room.
He’d slept on and off after that, waking at first light before drifting off an hour later. By the time he got up and went downstairs neither Orla nor One Ear were about so he went into the garden in search of them and, when it was obvious they weren’t there, decided that they must be at the beach.
It was a perfect morning to be by the sea. There was a freshness to the air which made his bare arms tingle, and the sky was a bright aquamarine dotted with friendly white clouds. There was a young mother with a couple of toddlers in bright yellow wellies paddling in the sea and, in one of those flashes of the imagination, Luke saw a future that he and Helen wouldn’t ever share. He closed his eyes for a moment, grief and anger surging through him at the thought of their future having been stolen from them. So many things, so many moments, had been cruelly snatched away when those two trains had collided, and Luke realised he was only just beginning to process it all. It would take months, years, to truly understand what had happened that night.
He opened his eyes and soon spotted Orla. She was a dot in the distance on the beach and it took a while to catch up with her.
One Ear saw him first and started barking and leaping across the sand towards him.
‘Hey, boy!’
Orla turned around and Luke waved to her and she stopped, waiting for him.
‘How’s your head?’ he asked her, noticing her larger than normal sunglasses and wide-brimmed hat.
‘Sore!’
‘Oh, dear. Did you sleep okay?’
‘No, not really. You?’
‘No, not really.’
‘Sorry.
