‘I do have a few hours to spare …’ he began, hoping it would be enough, and that he could pull off the juggling single dad act just a bit longer. ‘If you can pay.’
‘When can you start?’ She cut him off, gripping the card in her hands so tight Cillian could see her fingertips turning white. ‘I have a bit of a tight budget, but I can pay you.’ He could feel his heartbeat in his ears. Was this it? Could he actually have a job, one he genuinely liked? He was suddenly very glad indeed that he had answered Martha’s call that morning. He looked across to her chalet, and Martha’s words pinged into his head. April was still talking about hourly rates, and long hours. He cut her off.
‘Which chalet would be mine then?’ he asked, as nonchalantly as possible. It looked like this poor lass was well out of her depth, but needs must, and he and Orla needed this. Besides, it wasn’t like he wouldn’t do the work. He loved being busy. ‘I don’t mind, as long as I have a room for my daughter.’
April was looking at him in a state of confusion now. He could see her as he flicked his head around the park, trying to be calm, cool and collected.
‘Chalet? Daughter?’ She was lost, and he knew it. He walked to her and held out his hand. ‘I’ll take the one next to yours, if you don’t mind. Out of the way a bit there, handy for the equipment shed.’ Another blank, worried look. ‘You didn’t know we have an equipment shed, did you?’ She shook her head at him slowly, and he laughed gently. ‘No problem, I can start today, and you have me till half two. Tomorrow, I can do more. Sound good? We can sort rates and rent out later.’ He pushed his hand out a smidge closer, but she didn’t take it.
‘Cillian,’ she said, an odd look crossing her features. ‘I think I’ve made a big mistake, coming here. I don’t really know what I’m doing.’
Her voice cracked a little, and his heart went out to her. What was she doing here, all on her own? By the look of her car, she had driven here with her whole life packed up. What was she escaping from? His hand twitched with the effort of not reaching out to touch her shoulder. He didn’t want her to freak out completely – he had just body-slammed her after all. She might not be quite ready for a cuddle yet. Not that he would have tried.
‘Don’t fret too much yet. It’s a lot of work, but most things are when they’re really worth it. Let’s just take it a day at a time. That sound good? You got a kettle in those boxes?’ He pointed behind her at the car, and April nodded sheepishly. He grinned in response. ‘First things first then, let’s get the kettle on, eh?’
For the first time that day, Cillian saw April smile. She was quite cute when she did that, little dimples appearing in her pale cheeks. The sun split through the bank of clouds, lighting the grass around them outside emerald-green. The green tint came through the windows, lighting the reception area up and highlighting her curvy body. The whole thing looked like a photo shoot, and he looked away before she caught him gawping. He didn’t have the time for any of that. There was only one lady in his life, and this was all for her. All the hassle, the stress, and worry. Looking around him now though, he couldn’t help but think that maybe Mondays weren’t so bad after all. He couldn’t wait to tell Orla all about it.
Chapter 3
‘Well, that’s that then.’
Martha Rodgers swirled the remnants of tea around her teacup, muttering to herself as she half leaned out of the kitchen window. ‘We’ve had it. No hope.’
Martha’s chalet was at the opposite end of the horseshoe of chalets that formed the backbone of the place. It was directly opposite the reception hut, so she had been camped out there most mornings of late, breaking her fast closely with fresh tea, hot buttered toast and jam … and a little light spying. Things were changing, and Martha wasn’t one for change. Especially not now, when everything was just settling down again. The old owners had been good, sure, but they weren’t exactly hands-on. It seemed like the longer they left between visits, the less they cared to return. The live-in manager Tim had always been a touch lax in his duties, and Martha had seen a marked decline in both the standards and the customers coming to holiday there.
Eventually, the tide had turned a little too much, and the owners had sold up and got rid of the manager. Martha had tried to find out who had bought the place, but the estate agents and solicitors were both depressingly tight-lipped about the whole thing. She’d expected to have to fight to stay there, but with no one to oversee, she was just … forgotten about. Her rent was paid till the end of the year, but after that, who knew what?
All she’d known before her foray into being a rather brutal batter was that it was a cash buyer, and no plans for the park or the land had been announced. She’d hated that. It had robbed her of sleep and peaceful thoughts ever since. The unknown worried her. She’d finally settled somewhere again, since her Charlie had passed, but now she felt powerless, at the whim of others. She had felt like this once before, many years ago now, but the heartache and the feeling of being trapped
