‘I can’t wait! Do it!’ She bounced up and down on the spot. It was a slide, set into a little hill setting around the slide itself. On the sides were painted trees and bushes, and little sheep and pigs sat in various poses around the corner. She couldn’t help but gravitate to little pink animals lately. Orla’s influence was rubbing off on her already. The young bloke grinned, and with help from the driver, they slowly pulled back the tarpaulin.
‘Oooooo-hhhhhhhh-arrrgghhhh! What the hell is that?’ Her excited whoop gave way to disbelief as she looked at the slide. Instead of being set in a wonderful green hill, it was seemingly being held up by two of the ugliest-looking things ever. They looked like something you might find moaning about trip-trapping under bridges. The colours were more moss-green, dirt-brown, and not a cute little oinker in sight. ‘I didn’t order this!’
The two men looked bemused, and she glanced down at the clipboard.
‘I mean, I can’t sign for it, obviously. It’s not what I ordered.’
She looked at the order form, and it was all there in black and white. Just as Martha came into view, she saw the point of contact for the change of order, placed a day after her original order. M Rodgers. Looking at Martha, the old woman laughed sheepishly.
‘I might have another little confession to make. I forgot, to be honest, but I might have had a little revenge on my ghastly new landlady a little prematurely.’ April stared at her open-mouthed as the two men, both twice the size of Martha, shuffled their feet nearby.
April looked back at the trolls and started to laugh. A real belly laugh that made Martha jump in surprise.
April pointed at the trolls. ‘One of them me, is it?’
Martha winced. ‘I did think there was a likeness, at first glance.’ She put her hands together. ‘I’m so sorry, April. I’ll pay to get it sorted out.’
April held up a hand, cutting her off.
‘It’s okay,’ she said, signing the order and thanking the stunned men. Pulling a black sharpie from her pocket, she walked over to the trolls and scratched away.
‘Er … it’s all paid for, miss, and we don’t do refunds for defacement.’
April turned around, clicking the top back on the pen and grinning from ear to ear.
‘It’s okay,’ she said, looking at the trolls who now had names written across their foreheads. ‘I rather like them. Good job, Martha.’
With a wink, she headed off to the chalet, leaving the three staring dumbly after her. Behind them, the trolls, Duncan and Tim, looked quite amused themselves.
Chapter 14
Cillian couldn’t stop his foot from tapping, so he crossed his legs and started flicking his pen instead. He’d been so mad since his fight with April that he couldn’t believe he was sitting here having to deal with this too. He’d dropped her off at the chalet park and left her for dust, not bothering to say goodbye. Not that she seemed that bothered anyway. She’d jumped out of the van like it was on fire. It was such a bad idea, such a terrible mistake. Those lips of hers on his. Stop it.
This job was supposed to be a new start for him and Orla, and now it felt like he’d blotted his copybook with the boss and screwed everything up. They’d not even got to the good bits. Playing the couple had been fun earlier, natural even, and he couldn’t help but linger on the thought of kissing her in that shop doorway. He hadn’t felt like that in a lifetime, and strangely it had got him thinking of Tina. They were never like that, not even in the beginning and, knowing that, he wondered how Tina had felt. Maybe he hadn’t seen it from her point of view as well as he could. All he could focus on at the time was earning the money to provide for his young family back home, and missing his baby daughter. Perhaps it was harder to be left behind than it was to be the one to leave, however noble the intentions were.
Even with Orla being older now, Cillian still struggled sometimes with the sheer number of tasks parenthood involved, and that was before he had factored in a woman he kissed in doorways and fought with regularly. He was hard pushed to find the time to run a comb through his hair most mornings, and contrary to what women thought, men did need a little grooming now and then. He had to admit, though, that he might just have made that bit more effort since he got to know his boss.
‘Good afternoon, Hendricks and Abbott,’ a disembodied voice from behind the reception desk in front of him trilled. ‘Putting you through.’ The woman looked up at him, her eyebrows saluting him hello. ‘Mr O’Leary, he can see you now.’
This was it. This is what the last few months had all led to. What kept him awake at night, the memory of coming home to Orla home alone and hungry. He looked back at the front door and nodded slowly. No backing out now. He rose to his feet, document wallet in hand and carrying a heavy heart.
‘Thanks.’ He was almost at the end of the corridor when the front door opened again. Turning around,
