Bill arrived at his usual time to attend to the garden at the castle the morning after the meeting but, for the first time in the two years he’d been gardening for Miss Kendrick, it felt different. He had now met his employer and oh, how lovely she was. He still couldn’t believe the events of the evening before and how she’d not only attended the meeting in the first place, but had sat amongst them all, hat and glasses removed, and had openly answered all of Beth’s questions. He’d never forget the initial feeling of horror he’d felt when his little granddaughter had come into the room and clocked Orla. He’d had a moment of pure terror, wondering if the girl was going to scream or make some kind of scene. Well, she’d made a scene of sorts, that was for sure, but everyone had been riveted by it, and Bill had a feeling that those innocent questions had done Orla the power of good to answer. It had certainly broken the tension between everyone; they had all, he felt, been made a little anxious by Orla’s presence – not because they didn’t like her, but because they were being overly careful not to say the wrong thing or to look at her in the wrong way. Orla had marked herself out as different by hiding away from them all for so long and everybody had been moving around her with care and caution.
He glanced up at the castle now as he began work and wondered what she’d made of them all. He’d liked that she’d stayed behind after everyone had left and had told Margy what she’d missed when she’d been making the tea, and Bill’s soul had ached for Orla when he’d heard her story. No wonder she’d closed herself off from the world and feared the whole of mankind. He really couldn’t blame her. He might well have done the same thing.
Bending down to pull out a couple of dandelions that really should have known better than to grow where they knew they wouldn’t possibly be allowed to stay, Bill thanked his lucky stars that he’d never really known true fear, as Orla must have in her relatively short life. There’d been the time Margy was rushed into hospital with appendicitis. That had been scary, but she’d been young and strong and he’d been surrounded by family. He’d lost his share of friends over recent years, but that was life, wasn’t it? No, he didn’t have cause to complain. He was a lucky man.
It was as he was trimming the edges of the lawn after mowing it that he saw her, and he did a double take, imagining it was a mirage in the summer heat. But, no, it was definitely Miss Kendrick and she was walking straight towards him. She wasn’t wearing her sunglasses today, although she did have a straw hat on to protect her face from the sun, which was already hot and high in the sky. The hat had a pretty sky-blue ribbon tied around it and shaped her face perfectly.
Her face.
Bill looked at it again, his stomach twisting in anger at what had happened to her. If he could get his hands on the people who’d hurt this lovely young woman . . .
He took a deep breath. Violent thoughts weren’t the answer, he knew that, but he couldn’t help thinking them all the same.
Now, as she crossed the grass to greet him, he tipped his cap in his old-fashioned way.
‘Good morning, Miss Kendrick.’
‘Bill, you really must call me Orla.’
He scratched his chin. ‘That’ll take some getting used to.’
She smiled, and it lit up her whole face so beautifully and, once again, he felt sad that she’d hidden away for so long.
‘I wanted to thank you for last night,’ she began.
‘Thank me? It should be me thanking you.’
‘Whatever for?’
‘For being there.’
‘Did I shock everyone?’
He took a moment to consider this. ‘I wouldn’t say shock so much as surprise.’
‘Well, I hope it was a pleasant surprise.’
‘Very. I hope we’ll see you again.’
‘I hope so too.’
He smiled and was just about to turn back to his work when she surprised him yet again.
‘Can I talk to you about something?’
‘Of course.’ Bill gestured to the bench under the rose arch and they both sat down on it together as if they were old friends. ‘What’s on your mind?’
‘I’m worried about Luke,’ she said at last. ‘He’s been so focused on helping me and I can never repay his kindness. He’s helped me so much.’ She paused, looking down at her hands.
‘So, what’s the problem?’
‘I’m not sure he’s mourning properly.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘He hardly mentions about Helen. He only really talked about the accident when he first arrived and we haven’t spoken about it since. It’s touched on every now and then, like last night, but . . .’
‘What?’
‘I don’t know. Shouldn’t he be talking about her more?’
Bill sighed. ‘Who can say? He might be processing everything quietly.’
‘He is.’
‘Then I wouldn’t worry.’
Orla knitted her fingers together. ‘But I do. I think he’s hiding away here.’
‘Like you did?’
‘Exactly! It’s easy to do.’
‘Then you should understand.’
‘I do, but he’s helped me to see how unhealthy it is.’
‘And it’s unhealthy for him?’
‘I think it might be. You see, he’s been sleepwalking.’ Orla turned to face Bill now. ‘He did it shortly after arriving and a couple of times since. At least, that’s when I’ve known about it. He might do it more often than I catch him. I’m a pretty light sleeper these days. Anyway, I can’t help feeling that his locked-in emotions are trying to find a way out.’
‘In sleepwalking?’
‘I read about it a bit, and sleepwalking can be linked to stress.’
Bill nodded.
‘What do you think?’ Orla
