used to Orla and One Ear accompanying him now. He smiled as he thought of their many days out and how, after Orla’s initial terror, they’d fallen into a happy routine, taking little jaunts and exploring the countryside together. He was going to miss that. The beach too. He’d have to make sure he made time to visit the coast more often in his home county. If he’d learned anything over the past few months, it was making the very most of time.

As he neared his village, Luke began to feel anxious. Whoever would have thought that coming home would be such a dreadful experience? Luke never had. But, pulling into the driveway alongside Helen’s little red car, he felt an emptiness opening up inside him that had been filled with the people of Lorford for the last couple of months.

He sat in the van for a few minutes, listening to the engine cooling down after the long journey, but he knew he couldn’t sit in there for ever. He opened his door and hopped out with what seemed like a Herculean effort, reaching for his keys and unlocking the front door. As he pushed it open, there was some resistance. He peered round the door, switched on the light and sank inwardly at the pile of post that greeted him. There were the usual bills and junk mail, but he could see a fair few handwritten envelopes in there too. He shook his head. Still, the sickly sympathy cards were arriving. Would it never end? He picked up a pile of them and threw them unopened onto the dining-room table. He couldn’t face them now. Maybe he never would.

He brought his things in from his van and dropped them down in the hallway, then went through to the sitting room, where everything was just as he’d left it before his trip to Suffolk – the cushions were unplumped, the table undusted and the newspapers unsorted. Helen would not have been impressed and Luke swallowed now as the thought registered.

‘Sorry,’ he said, imagining her spirit hovering near. He promised to tackle it all tomorrow. Tomorrow, he thought, when he had to go on living.

Chapter 21

Orla’s bedroom curtains were thick, but they weren’t thick enough to completely stop the sun’s fierce progress that morning and she stirred in bed, blinking her eyes open and watching as her room turned a gentle amber colour. How long had she been asleep? It felt like days. She’d certainly been in her room for days, she was sure of that. But today, she felt different. It was as if the weight of fear was slowly lifting from her. Perhaps it had something to do with her mother being there. Bernadette had been with her throughout those awful dark days after the acid attack. Orla knew she wouldn’t have been able to cope without her. She would have gone under completely, sinking down deep into herself.

She shook her thoughts away. She didn’t want to go back there, especially after the last few days she’d had. The arrival of Brandon in Lorford had dragged her back to that dark place within herself which would never wholly heal and she’d been reminded of just how fragile the human mind was. But she was feeling a little stronger today and, after getting washed and dressed, went in search of her mother and Luke.

One Ear was the first to greet her and she immediately felt guilty at having abandoned her dear companion for so long.

‘Oh, my special boy!’ she cried as he did a series of little jumps around her. When she’d first brought him home from the rescue centre, he’d jumped up at her and had promptly knocked her onto her back, so she’d had to train him to control his enthusiasm just a little.

The noise they were making brought Bernadette out from the kitchen.

‘You’re up!’ she said, a smile on her face. ‘How are you feeling? Can I get you some breakfast?’

‘I’d love some, thank you. I’m absolutely starving.’

‘Let me get that for you. Why don’t you sit down?’

‘I’d rather stand,’ Orla said. ‘I feel it’s been a while since I’ve been upright!’ She followed her mother through to the kitchen and One Ear followed her.

‘Has One Ear had his walk yet?’

‘He’s been out in the garden,’ Bernadette told her.

‘Has Luke been walking him?’

‘No.’

‘No?’ Orla looked around, expecting to see Luke appear at any moment. ‘Where is he? He’s been working quietly, hasn’t he? I hope I haven’t made things tricky for him.’

Her mother took a moment before answering.

‘Luke’s gone, darling.’

‘Gone? Where?’

‘Home.’

Orla frowned. ‘Why?’

‘Because I thought that was for the best.’ Bernadette filled the kettle with fresh water.

‘Wait – you told him to go?’

Bernadette sighed. ‘Don’t make a scene out of it, Orla.’

‘What did you do?’

‘I simply told him he wasn’t needed.’

‘How could you do that?’

‘How could I not? Orla, darling! I arrive to find a strange man in your home and you locked away in your bedroom!’

‘But that had nothing to do with Luke!’

‘Didn’t it?’

‘No!’ Orla cried. ‘Luke was my friend.’

‘Well, he wasn’t mine, and I didn’t like the way he was just hanging around here.’

‘But he wasn’t just hanging around. He’s been working on the castle. He’s been doing vital jobs. He’s the one who uncovered the Wild Man!’

‘Exactly my point! If it hadn’t been for him, this whole episode with your stalker would never have happened.’

‘But that wasn’t Luke’s fault. Oh, God! I’d better call him and sort all this out. Goodness only knows what he thinks of me.’

Orla left the kitchen and searched the great hall for her phone. She couldn’t remember where she’d last used it.

‘Leave it, darling. Please!’ Bernadette called after her, coming into the room a moment later.

‘I can’t. He’s been good to me, Mum. I can’t not call him and explain. What did you do, anyway? Just throw him out?’

‘It wasn’t like that.’

‘No? Are you sure?’

Orla spotted her phone on the windowsill and picked it up.

‘Don’t!’

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