Orla knew that she could never begin to relax in a public place, but she felt something akin to happiness spreading through her as they continued walking. She’d always found that there was something in the very action of walking that helped to still the mind and quell anxiety. The movement of the body was good for the mind, she believed. She’d walked her way out of so many bad moods and sad moments and she was determined that this walk was going to be a positive one too.
That was before she saw the stranger.
It was just a normal man wearing a T-shirt and a pair of jeans. He was in his late thirties and was walking with a Border collie close by his heels. He didn’t even look their way as he approached. He was far too interested in looking at the screen of his mobile phone but, even so, Orla could feel herself starting to panic. Luke, obviously sensing this, was by her side in an instant, making sure he was the one nearest as the man passed them.
‘Okay?’ he asked, once the man was on his way.
She nodded, thankful that there were no other people in-between them and the horizon.
They walked on in companionable silence, the sun gloriously warm on their backs and the earth sandy and soft beneath their feet. When they came to a natural crossroads, Luke took the right turn, which led into the cool shade of a wood. It seemed strange to leave the wide landscape behind them and to be surrounded by trees. Everything seemed hushed. Orla, who was used to the open expanse of the beach, realised quickly that she didn’t like being enclosed like this. Anyone could hide amongst the trees and get close to her.
Suddenly, she started looking around as if there might, in fact, be someone in there.
‘Orla?’
‘I need to get out.’
‘Of the wood?’
‘Get me back.’
‘Okay, we’ll get you back. Take my hand.’
Orla felt Luke’s hand close around her own, strong and supportive, as everything else seemed strange and nebulous. She was having one of her dizzy spells, which often came on when she felt threatened. The slightest thing could bring it on – the sighting of someone she didn’t recognise, like the man with the Border collie, or a movement caught out of the corner of her eye.
‘Nearly there,’ Luke said as they reached the van a few minutes later.
Orla felt exhausted, her body drenched with fear, and she sank back into the passenger seat, closing her eyes against the world as if that would make it all go away.
‘Shall we just drive around for a while?’ Luke suggested.
Orla nodded. It was all she seemed capable of doing. Finally, after a few minutes, she opened her eyes. They were still in the countryside, passing a broad river edged with blond reed beds which danced in the summer breeze. Luke wound his window down a little and the fresh salty air filled the van and One Ear started sniffing in appreciation. They passed fabulous flint churches and thatched cottages huddled around village greens and, turning a corner in an easterly direction, they caught a tantalising glimpse of the sea.
Orla was finally beginning to feel a little more normal and, although she wasn’t completely relaxed, she was able to enjoy her surroundings now that she was safe in the van.
As they passed a little garden centre Luke sprang a new challenge on her.
‘Fancy going in?’
Orla didn’t need to think about it. She hadn’t done any shopping in a real shop since before the acid attack. ‘Not today,’ she told Luke.
‘Mind if I pop in quickly?’
‘Erm, no,’ Orla said as he pulled into a farm track to turn around and go back.
‘Anything you want?’
‘No, thank you,’ she said politely. As fun as it might be to look at the plants and the seeds, Orla left that side of things to Bill.
‘Well, I won’t be long,’ he said a moment later, parking and getting out of the van. Orla watched and One Ear whined, wondering why he wasn’t being allowed to follow Luke on this new adventure.
‘It’s all right,’ Orla assured him, when she wasn’t altogether sure herself. She looked out of the window, hoping to spot Luke, but she couldn’t see him anywhere. She could so easily have opened the door and gone to join him, but it wasn’t easy at all, was it? That was the problem. The opening of the door and the walking to meet him were just the mechanics of the thing. But there was a whole psychology side to it which prevented her from doing it. The fear of the unknown – of what might be on the other side of that door. Or who might be on the other side of that door and if they might wish her harm.
And so she sat, rigidly staring straight ahead, ever mindful of the people coming and going around her. Where had he got to? He was taking an absolute age in there.
Finally, he returned, a huge smile on his face as he opened the door and got into the van, presenting Orla with a voluptuous pink geranium in a terracotta pot.
‘For you.’
‘You bought this for me?’ Orla was genuinely surprised by the gift.
‘I wanted to celebrate. You’ve done so well today.’
‘But I haven’t! I’ve been hopeless!’
‘No, you weren’t! Not at all. And “hopeless” is the very last word I’d use to describe today. For me, it felt full of hope.’
‘It did?’
‘Yes! Look!’ He pointed to the milometer. ‘We’ve driven over twenty miles so far. That’s twenty whole miles you’ve explored after having explored precisely none in the last couple of years. Surely that’s worth celebrating.’
She looked down at the beautiful plant which sat on her lap. ‘You’re right,’ she said at last. ‘It is worth celebrating. Thank you. Thank you so much.’
‘You’re welcome. And I know Helen would be so proud of you.’
‘She would?’
‘Absolutely,’ Luke told her, knowing it
