‘We’ve had some good walks, haven’t we?’
One Ear looked up at him, cocking his head to one side as if trying to understand the strange situation.
Luke turned to face Bernadette. ‘Right. Well, I’ll be off.’ He hesitated for a moment. ‘Bernie.’
Bernadette’s whole body seemed to bristle at his impudence. It was a cheap jibe, but he hadn’t been able to resist.
Luke didn’t leave Lorford straight away. Instead, he drove down to the quay and sat on a bench for a few minutes, watching as the sun began to set over the estuary and smiling at the comic antics of a little bird on the shore that he had no hope of ever identifying. The truth was, for all the beauty before him, he couldn’t help feeling miserable. He felt like he had failed Orla and, in failing her, he’d also failed Helen. He hadn’t helped at all, had he? He’d done nothing but cause pain and confusion, and the result was that Orla was locked away in isolation even greater than when he’d first arrived at the castle.
He’d also lost a friend. Because they had been friends, hadn’t they? They’d slowly learned to trust each other and there had been some fun times together, but he wouldn’t allow himself to take comfort in those now because it had all ended so badly. It was always the end that counted.
Getting up from the bench, he walked the short distance to Oyster Cottage, although he doubted that even seeing Bill and Margy could make him feel any better. If anything, it was bound to make him feel worse because he knew he was going to have to say goodbye to them in the worst of circumstances.
It was Margy who answered the door.
‘Hello, Luke. This is a nice surprise. Come in.’
‘How are you?’
‘Can’t complain. Just finishing off this cardigan.’ She held up her latest knitting project for his inspection.
‘That’s lovely,’ Luke said, taking in the soft blue and silvery cream creation, which reminded him of the sea. ‘Is Bill around?’
‘In the garden with Bosun, enjoying the sunshine.’ Margy led him through. ‘Bill – you’ve got a visitor.’
Luke walked outside to where Bill was cutting a big bunch of sweet peas. He was half dreading seeing his friend, but he knew that he couldn’t leave Lorford without saying goodbye. He watched for a moment as Bill inhaled the sweet peas he’d cut.
‘Keeps ’em coming if you cut them regularly,’ he told Luke.
Luke inhaled their heady fragrance before Bill handed them to Margy.
‘Lovely! I’ll pop them in a vase,’ she said, leaving them to it.
‘Everything okay at the castle?’ Bill asked as he bent to pat Bosun’s sleepy, sun-warmed head.
‘Well, in a manner of speaking,’ Luke said, then shrugged. ‘I’ve come to say goodbye.’
‘You what?’ Bill looked shocked.
‘Orla’s mother’s just thrown me out.’
‘Orla’s mother’s here?’
Luke filled Bill in on what had been going on since Orla had shut herself in her room.
‘But she can’t throw you out. You’ve been a good friend to Orla.’
‘Not according to her mother. I think she’s holding me responsible for Orla locking herself away like that and – well – she’s probably right.’
‘But that’s nonsense!’
‘It’s okay, Bill,’ Luke assured him. ‘That castle isn’t big enough for the two of us. The only thing that pains me is that I didn’t get to say goodbye to Orla. Will you do that for me? And tell her I’m sorry?’
Bill looked confused. ‘You don’t need to say you’re sorry, do you?’
‘I feel I should,’ Luke said. ‘You will tell her, won’t you?’
‘If it’s what you want, then of course I will, son,’ Bill promised him, with a gentle clap on his shoulder. ‘But maybe I’ll wait until her mother’s left first.’
Luke gave a tiny smile and then sighed. ‘I’m going to miss this place.’
‘This place is going to miss you.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘It’s funny. When I came here I didn’t have any plans to stay, but now it’s hard to imagine going home. This feels . . .’ He paused, wondering what he’d been going to say. Was it crazy to think of Lorford as home when he’d only been there for such a short time? ‘This is a good place,’ he finished.
‘Oh, yes,’ Bill agreed.
Luke looked around the garden in the late evening light, marvelling at the little paradise Bill had made there.
‘Can I visit?’
Bill looked stunned by the question. ‘You’d better!’ he said.
Luke laughed in relief. ‘Even if I’m not welcome up at the castle, I’d like to come back.’
‘Listen,’ Bill said. ‘Just give Orla this time with her mother. She won’t be there for ever, will she? And I’m sure Orla will want to see you again.’
‘I’m not so sure,’ Luke admitted. ‘I seem to have caused nothing but trouble since I arrived.’
‘Are you kidding? You’ve been the making of her! You’ve brought that poor girl out of her shell and helped her find a way into the community.’
Luke dared to smile. ‘Really? You think so?’
‘You know so,’ Bill told him.
‘But it’s right I should go home,’ he said. ‘It’s time.’
Bill nodded. ‘Well, you take care of yourself, son.’
‘And you. I won’t forget your kindness.’
After a heartfelt goodbye, Luke drove out of Lorford, passing through the square, glancing at the village shop and taking one last look at the towering castle. He followed the road inland, through the great woods and heathland where he had walked with Orla and One Ear. His new friends. How he was going to miss them. They’d so quickly become an important part of his life and he knew he was going to struggle without them for a while.
As Luke settled in for the three-hour journey, he tried not to think about what lay ahead – of the empty house that would greet him, and his new life as a widower. God, what a hateful word that was. He hadn’t been able to say it to Bernadette or to admit to his new status. He still felt married somehow.
Sitting alone in his van felt strange too. He was so
