‘I’m in the dungeon!’ he yelled back, and he heard her footsteps hastening towards him.
‘What are you doing down here?’ she asked a moment later, looking around as if he might have been up to something without her permission.
‘Just scouting for jobs to do while I’m waiting for some plaster to dry in the great chamber, and I came across this. Did you put this up?’
‘No, it was here when I bought the castle.’
‘I thought it might have been. Do you know what’s behind it?’
‘No. Is it something I should be anxious about?’
Luke rubbed his chin. ‘No, not anxious. But curious maybe. I can’t see any reason why this section of wall would be boarded like this. This column too,’ he said, noticing that one of the stone columns supporting a window arch was concealed. ‘It’s Caen stone, isn’t it? I was reading about it. It’s a hard limestone from Normandy. Beautiful for carving.’
Orla didn’t seem to be interested.
‘Everything okay?’ Luke asked her.
‘Yes,’ she told him. ‘No.’
‘Can you narrow that down a bit?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Anything I can help with?’
Orla chewed her lip, looking anxious. ‘I’ve been thinking about what you’ve been saying. I mean, thinking a lot.’
‘Okay,’ Luke said, wondering exactly what it was she was referring to.
‘And I think it might not be a bad idea. To go out, I mean.’
‘You want to go out?’
‘Yes!’ she said with a nod. ‘No!’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t know.’
Luke smiled, thrilled by her declaration. ‘So, where do you want to go?’
‘Somewhere not too far away. Somewhere there isn’t going to be people.’
‘Okay.’
‘In your van. I’m not walking anywhere.’
‘Right. No problem.’
‘And I don’t want you putting any more pressure on me. If I don’t want to get out of the van, I won’t, okay?’
‘All right.’
‘I don’t want you saying that I should or that it’ll do me good.’
‘Orla – this can be whatever you want it to be. I’m just happy that you’re even thinking about it.’
‘One Ear comes with us,’ she stipulated.
‘Of course.’
‘Okay, then.’
‘Okay.’
She gave a little nod. ‘I’ll leave you to . . . whatever you were doing.’
Luke watched as she disappeared up the spiral staircase, listening to her footsteps on the cold stone, and a huge warm smile spread across his face.
Chapter 12
Orla looked around her bedroom in desperation. What did she need to take with her? She hadn’t been anywhere but the beach for the last two years and felt a little lost at the prospect of driving beyond the castle gates and actually leaving the village. What did women take when they went out? Orla tried to think back to her days as a normal woman. What had she had in her handbag? She’d emptied it out long ago and tucked it in the back of her wardrobe but now she brought it out and looked into its cavernous depths with a feeling of approaching doom. She remembered she used to always carry a couple of lipsticks, but she’d dispensed with such things since the attack. What was the point in trying to look pretty? There really wasn’t any, so Orla simply used a clear lip balm for moisture.
There would have been a hairbrush and a compact with a mirror, but that had been thrown away long ago. The only mirror Orla had in the castle was a tiny one which she kept wrapped in a scarf. It was for fly-in-the-eye-type emergencies only. It wasn’t as if Orla didn’t care about her appearance any more – she kept her long hair tangle-free and washed and moisturised her face – but she refused to venture back to that place where physical beauty dominated. She’d lived in that world mercifully briefly during her time as a model, and it had brought her nothing but pain.
She popped a lip balm into the bag, and a paperback from her bedside table because you never knew when you might be in need of something to read.
‘Purse!’ she cried. She’d almost forgotten the need to carry money with her, seeing as all her transactions were done online these days, including paying Bill, the gardener. Orla had no need for cash and she probably wouldn’t on this particular outing. Not that she was planning to go shopping or anything that adventurous, but it was always wise to be prepared.
Moving through to the great hall, she caught sight of One Ear and added a handful of dog biscuits to her bag. Her coat pockets were usually full of them, but a few more wouldn’t go amiss. She also added a bottle of water for her and One Ear to share. She always took one with her when walking along the beach and would pour a fountain for her boy after he’d had a good run.
‘Keys!’
Again, Orla tended to keep the keys to her home in her pockets, and it would feel funny putting them into a bag. She then grabbed a couple of tissues and her favourite hand cream.
Just when she thought she was all set to go, her mobile rang from the table and she realised that she’d nearly left the castle without it. She picked it up, seeing her mother’s name on the screen.
‘Darling?’
‘Mum! How are you?’
‘I was going to ask you the same thing. I haven’t heard from you all week.’
‘I’m sorry. I’ve been busy.’
‘Busy?’ Her mother sounded incredulous. ‘Doing what?’
Orla bit her lip, knowing that she couldn’t divulge the fact that she had a man staying with her. Her mother would worry herself silly over that.
‘Work. My work,’ she said instead.
‘I wasn’t aware you were working.’
‘My photography.’
‘That’s work now, is it? It’s paying the bills?’
‘Not exactly.’
‘You can’t not work, you know, darling. That cumbersome castle of yours won’t pay for itself.’
‘I know. I’ve still got some money left over from the modelling.’
‘Yes, well, that won’t last for ever. Not with that big place of yours to restore and run.’
‘I know. I will find work at some point.’
‘I really don’t know why you lumbered yourself with that old pile.’
‘Don’t let’s go through all that again, Mum.’
‘But really – it’s such an extravagance! Why couldn’t you just buy a nice little penthouse near me?’
‘You know I couldn’t stay in London.’
She heard her mother sighing. ‘Yes. I know, darling. But it is a pain for me having to hike all the way out to Suffolk to see my daughter.’
‘You really don’t need to any more.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, you’ve got to let me try and take care of myself, Mum. I’m making progress, I really am. This place has been good for me.’
‘Well, that’s wonderful to hear, of course, but I think I should see the evidence for myself. You were . . .’
‘What?’