It seemed such a shame that Orla had decided to live in a place like Lorford and not choose to be a part of things. As Luke walked through the village that morning, he could see that it was the sort of place one should move to if one wanted to be a part of things. There was such a feeling of community, with the little shops, the sweet rows of cottages and the people out walking their dogs. There were a few tourists down by the quay. The café was open and there were people lining up for one of the boat trips along the river, and what a perfect day it was for that too, with the sun sparkling on the water. It might not be as bustling as Aldeburgh or Southwold further up the coast, but Lorford had many charms and Luke felt sad that Orla shut herself away from them all. What was it she was so afraid of? He instinctively felt that these people would be nothing but kind and welcoming to Orla, but she had to meet them halfway. He wanted to find out what it was that kept her hidden away from the world, and he knew that Helen had been intrigued too. She had wanted to reach out to Orla, but raising the subject would be tricky. After all, it was a miracle that he was staying there at all. He couldn’t expect her just to open up to him after knowing him for so little time.
He wondered what Helen would make of it all – of him coming to Lorford and finding Orla and staying at the castle with her. He guessed Helen hadn’t known about the castle and he couldn’t help imagining her response at finding out about it and seeing it for the first time. She’d have loved it; he knew that much. She had a special appreciation for England’s ancient buildings and Luke so desperately wanted to share it all with her.
But you wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t died.
He sighed, knowing it was true, but not wanting to hear that horrible little voice telling him.
He looked down at his hands. He didn’t wear a wedding ring. Helen hadn’t put any pressure on him to do so. It was dangerous in his line of work, she realised that, but she did often tease him about that just being an excuse. Now, he wished he had that link to her. He wouldn’t care if it put him at risk. At least he’d have that connection.
His memory rolled back to the moment when he’d slid that slim band of gold onto Helen’s finger. Theirs had been a simple wedding. They hadn’t had much money for anything fancy. The local registry office had been good enough for them, with a reception at Helen’s parents’ house afterwards. Helen’s mother had gone all out with the flowers. Luke still remembered Helen’s face when she’d seen them all: great towers of flowers, completely disguising the modest semi-detached. It had been so beautiful. And Helen. She had taken his breath away with her hair swept up and her long lacy dress in the softest of creams. When he’d placed the ring on her finger, she’d whispered to him that she’d never take it off, and she never had.
She was still wearing it now, he thought, in that other dimension, wherever she was. She had taken it with her. Helen’s mother had asked him if he wouldn’t rather have it as a keepsake, but it hadn’t been his to take. It was Helen’s ring and he had respected her wishes to wear it always.
Closing his eyes for a moment to regain his composure, he got up from the bench before leaving the quay at a fast pace. Walking helped to calm him down. That steady, simple rhythm of putting one foot in front of the other really helped to ease the grip of grief, he found. The only trouble with Lorford was that it was so small, and he soon found himself back in the market square. He paused, looking around as if reminding himself of where he was, and then he saw the small village store and walked towards it, picking up a basket and filling it with groceries. It was one of those mindless, everyday tasks that was proving to be a little lifesaver in its own way.
‘You on holiday?’ the lady behind the counter asked him as she took his money a few minutes later.
Luke was surprised by her question. ‘Kind of, I guess.’
‘Staying locally?’
‘In the castle.’
Her mouth dropped open at this declaration. ‘Lorford Castle?’
‘Yes.’
‘You’re a friend of . . .’ her voice petered out.
‘Miss Kendrick, yes,’ he said.
‘Well, that’s . . . very nice.’
Luke nodded, not knowing whether to add anything. After all, Orla didn’t have anything to do with the village.
‘I’ll see you soon,’ he said as he left the shop, thinking that word of his arrival would soon get around the village.
Crossing the square, he took a quick look at the menu outside the pub, and then he saw it. The noticeboard. Set on the wall by the bus stop, it was full of the usual village stuff: when the next council meeting was to be held, what Lorford was doing to become more green and – Luke blinked – a horticultural group. New members welcome. The people of Lorford, Luke had noticed, loved their gardens, so it was no surprise to him that there was a horticultural society being advertised. The next talk was that very week and was entitled ‘Herbs: why you should grow them and how you can use them’.
Luke read the poster again, taking it all in, and something in it linked with the voice he heard in his head, Helen’s voice, and the words she’d written in her journal. He recalled them now.
BB has been so kind helping me to discover what it is I really want. I wish there was something I could do to help her. She sounds so isolated. So alone. And scared too, although she won’t tell me why. That’s no way to live, is it?
Luke agreed. That was no way to live.
He looked at the poster again. His knowledge of herbs was limited to the sort in a bottle on his spice rack. Other than mint, rosemary and basil, he wasn’t even sure if he’d met any real-life herbs. But that didn’t really matter because he wasn’t going there for the talk about plants. Luke had a plan, and he was going to need to get the locals on board with it in order to help him.
When Luke arrived back at the castle, he noticed a small van had pulled up in the driveway and he watched as a man got out, opened the van door and retrieved a large box. He nodded to Luke as he saw him.
‘Delivery for Miss Kendrick.’
‘I’ll take it,’ Luke told him, putting his shopping bag down. ‘Does it need a signature?’
‘No. She never signs for anything. Instructions are to leave it by the back door.’
‘I’ll take it in.’
The man scratched his head. ‘You a friend?’
‘Yes.’
‘What’s she like?’
Luke was a little reluctant to answer as he knew Orla valued her privacy.
‘She’s nice,’ he said, and the delivery man nodded.
‘I’ve been delivering these boxes for two years now and never seen her.’
‘Does that matter?’
The man shrugged. ‘I guess not. Odd, though, ain’t it?’
Luke watched as he got back into his van and drove away, and Luke acknowledged once again that, although Orla might not want anything to do with the outside world, the outside world certainly knew of her presence and felt its absence.
Doing his best to carry both the box and his bag of groceries, Luke negotiated the castle steps and rang the doorbell. As usual, One Ear sounded his arrival and, a moment later, Orla opened the door to him.
‘You have a delivery,’ he told her unnecessarily. ‘Where do you want it?’