Cillian was fussing around his daughter, making sure everything she needed was ready in her backpack. By the way he was packing, you would think Orla had been recruited by the SAS. April was pretty sure she’d seen him shove a compass and a can of bear spray in the back pockets.
‘Cillian, she’s fine. You’ll be late if you don’t get a move on.’ She reached for a box of homemade biscuits from the shelf. ‘Here, Orla, give these to your new teacher to hand out to everyone.’ Orla’s mouth dropped open as she looked at the box of gorgeous sugar cookies, all in the shape of shells and sea creatures. She ran to grab them, her backpack and Cillian both strapped to her. Cillian took the biscuits and zipped up her backpack.
‘Come on then, poppet.’ He passed by April on their way to the exit, and he leaned in, dropping a peck on her lips. ‘Thanks, babe. Back in a bit.’ Pulling back, he had the biggest, happiest smile on his face. April, however, had frozen in place. Seeing her panicked expression, his face fell. The pair of them looked across at Orla, but she was laughing behind her hands at the pair of them.
April whispered from the side of her mouth as Orla continued to giggle and belly laugh. ‘What do we do?’
Cillian, speaking from one corner of his, didn’t offer much help.
‘I’ve no idea. I forgot …’ He leaned down in front of Orla. ‘Daddy’s just being silly, button. Let’s go. Say goodbye to April!’
Orla came forward and beckoned for April to lean in. When she did, Orla kissed her on the lips, a fast little touch, and shouted, ‘Bye, baby! I’m off to big school!’
She marched out, biscuits and backpack with her, and the pair were left looking at each other aghast. April started to speak, to apologise even, but he cut her off.
‘That was close.’ It wasn’t a warning, but his face was closed off. He didn’t look at her in his usual way, his secret looks that told her he was thinking about her when they were working on something for the chalet park, or when they were serving customers, or taking Orla and the others to play in the playground. ‘Won’t be long.’ He didn’t look at her again, and she followed him with her eyes as he scooped Orla up and put her into the van. Normally he would turn his head, but he kept his eyes on the road this time. She could tell by the set of his jaw that he was upset, and she felt the stirring in her stomach.
Orla had shrugged it off this time, but it was getting harder to act normal around everyone. She found herself correcting her own body language whenever he was around. A couple of the holidaymakers had even thought them to be a husband and wife team, and April had wanted the ground to swallow her up when Mrs Adamson had left a comment card in her chalet, thanking ‘Mr Cillian Statham for repairing the table leg at such short notice’. She’d hidden it right at the bottom of the file she was making for reception. Even seeing the name Mr Statham made her feel odd, let alone involving the Cillian awkwardness.
Once the van was gone out of sight, and she’d made sure everything was ready for the day, she went to the store room at the back to start the orders she’d had come in for baskets from Judith. They helped each other out, and Cillian had been taking Orla up to help with the animals too, which April loved to hear about later, from both the O’Learys. Orla’s stories were short and sweet, but even a few words from her were unheard of just a short time ago. Everything was changing.
Turning around to pack a fresh basket into a cardboard shipping box, her leg hit something hard. A huge box of painting materials, one of three that had been delivered in recent weeks. Sighing, she looked across at Martha’s chalet and, picking up the box, she headed over, flicking the five-minute break sign across as she went.
Chapter 16
‘Martha?’ April tapped on the door of her chalet, heavy box in hand. There was no answer, which wasn’t surprising given the last few weeks. Since she had passed on the box, Martha was like a different person. Night after night, while April was reading the letters she’d written to a faraway love, Martha was in her chalet, painting. A few days after the troll slide incident, the original slide had turned up, paid in full. The deliverymen brought more equipment too, and now the Shady Pines playground was a sight to behold. Even Duncan and Tim the trolls looked happier alongside the extended bark-strewn area, swings and roundabouts around them.
The kids who had visited the park so far loved it, and Orla in particular was a regular visitor. Every day after her dad brought her home, he would go back to work, make her tea, and she would sit and play on the porch or in the park. April found herself always aware of where Orla was. It comforted her to know that she was safe, and she knew Cillian never missed a trick either. Between them, they were watching Orla grow into a more confident, happier and chattier girl. The only person missing from the scene was Martha, who had seemingly locked herself away.
She tried again, knocking harder with her elbow as she juggled the box from arm to arm.
‘Martha?’ Almost dropping
