‘I’m easy, just order me what you get. I won’t be a minute.’
She focused on the menu, as Cillian left the room and came back with two little white tablets and a glass of cold water.
‘Just paracetamol, take the edge off that headache. Shan’t be long.’ He raised one brow. ‘Don’t forget the prawn crackers.’
She looked up at him, being so nice to her when she needed it the most. He didn’t even realise how much he’d helped her just now. Seeing how much he loved his child, how he’d bared his concerns to her earlier. She admitted to herself that it was there, the attraction, but it was more than that. She actually liked him as a person.
‘I wouldn’t dream of it.’ She laughed, waving him off. He looked pointedly at the tablets again, and back at her.
‘Take those tablets.’
She did as she was asked, swallowing the chalky little capsules and washing the lot down with a huge glug of water. Touching her injury gently, she winced at the swelling she felt. It was sore, but not serious. She felt fine, if a little sheepish. Sheepish, confused, and blinking starving.
Selecting a few things from the menu, she went to dial the number. The phone sprang into life when she touched it, and a photo of Orla came up. She was in nursery this time, beaming over the top of a handmade volcano, foam squirting out from the top. April found herself grinning back at the photo. It was a happy little moment, captured forever. She didn’t for once feel the urge to pet Orla like a Labrador, or the squeeze of her ovaries as she felt the loss once more. Progress. Or maybe hunger just trumped heartbreak. She was just dialling the takeaway number when a text popped up on the screen. April jumped, and accidentally speed-read the words ‘The nursery called the police, Cillian. I wonder whose idea that was!’ before she put it face down on the table. Cillian came back in, a throw and a pillow under one arm.
‘You not ordered yet?’
Her expression turned his easy smile upside down.
‘What’s wrong? Your head?’
He was kneeling at her feet now, the contents of his arms tossed onto the sofa nearby. She picked up the phone, showing him the screen.
‘It popped up while I was dialling. Sorry. I didn’t mean to read it. Bit of a fast reader – it’s a thing I’ve always been able to do. I am sorry. I can go.’
She watched his eyes move across the screen, his beautiful sea-glass-green eyes darkening as his expression turned almost murderous. His jaw clenched and she heard his intake of breath as he processed the words. Taking the phone from her gently, he dialled the number from the menu and passed the handset back to her wordlessly.
‘Hello, Golden Dragon?’
He left the room, half stomping, half shuffling to the kitchen.
‘Hi, yes … sorry …’ She realised the person was waiting for her to answer, but she was too busy watching Cillian. He was leaning against the kitchen counter, his head in his hands for a moment. She turned her attention to ordering their food, and by the time she had rung off, he wasn’t in the kitchen anymore. Frowning, she looked out of the back windows and saw a little red orb of light outside. Pushing open the back doors, she wrapped her arms around herself and slipped out into the night.
It was beautiful outside, especially after dark. Each chalet had their own little front and back areas, but the two Cillian and April lived in were nearest the beach path, backing right onto it. Right out of those back doors, you could smell the salty spray coming off the waves, see for miles and miles. She loved this view, and once more she found herself in awe of her new quirky home.
‘I’ll be back in a minute,’ Cillian said from the shadows, gruff. A plume of white smoke came from his direction. The little red orb.
‘Bad habit that, you know.’ She shivered when a gust of wind billowed past, pulling her arms closer over her chest.
‘I know. I stopped before Orla came along, but sometimes I just need to have one to take the edge off.’
April moved through the dark, their porch lights lighting just enough to see her way to him.
‘I’ll eat and then go back to mine. I’m fine, really, and I think you need some peace.’
He huffed deep in his chest and took another deep drag, the red embers glowing bright.
‘I’ll never get that – you saw the text. I don’t want you to leave. Stay.’
‘Okay,’ she agreed, finding herself thrilled that he didn’t want her out. ‘Does Orla want her mum in her life?’ She felt cheeky even asking, but she couldn’t silence the question in her head. She needed to know what she was getting into. Not that she was thinking like that. Not much anyway. God, he looked gorgeous tonight.
He narrowed his eyes at her impertinence, missing her semi-lustful gaze entirely with his pig-headedness, but she stood her ground. As well as she could while covering her rather cold chest. She only had her painting clothes on, and she was aware that her nipples were proudly displaying their aversion to the chill in the air. ‘I only ask because, well, I lost a mum. I’d give anything to have her back.’
She choked a little on the words, but got them out. Somehow, she felt like she needed to say it. To advocate for Orla, which was a first for her. It felt rather odd. Maternal. Cillian didn’t say anything for a beat, just pulling once more on the cigarette before pinching off the cherry and holding the tab end in his hand.
‘She’s scared of her.’ The smoke came out of his mouth and floated off into the night, curling around the four words. ‘Were you scared of yours?’
April shook her head sadly. ‘No, of course not.’
