A woman in her sixties shook her head and tutted. ‘To my mind, lavender is purple. Any other colour is a sacrilege!’
Bill grinned, as did Orla, and a few others scoffed at this declaration.
It was as they were debating purple lavender over pink that a young girl came into the room.
‘Beth! What are you doing up?’ Bill asked, obviously embarrassed by the interruption of his young granddaughter in a pair of pyjamas covered in red hearts.
‘I couldn’t sleep,’ Beth explained, looking around the room and deciding that things were much more exciting in there than upstairs. Then she saw Orla, and Orla saw the expression on her face change. Her eyes widened and her mouth formed a perfect ‘o’ shape, and there was an anxious moment when Orla wondered what would happen next.
Orla saw Luke glance at Bill, who looked as if he was about to say something, but Beth beat him to it, cocking her head to one side as she looked directly at Orla.
‘What happened to your face?’ Beth asked, without an adult’s filter to guide her.
Orla felt her throat tighten at the blunt question and her fingers twisted themselves into knots in her lap. But the child’s eyes held hers and there was something about that direct look that demanded complete honesty.
‘I was attacked,’ Orla said calmly. ‘Somebody threw something very nasty into my face.’
The girl didn’t flinch. ‘Did it hurt?’
‘Yes.’
‘And does it hurt now?’
‘No. Not now.’
There was a pause when Beth continued to examine her. ‘Will your ear grow back?’
Somebody to Luke’s right gasped at this bold question.
‘No,’ Orla told Beth. ‘It won’t grow back.’
‘Can I touch it?’
‘Beth!’ Bill cried in horror. ‘That’s enough now, darling.’
‘It’s okay,’ Orla assured him as Beth came forward, her small child’s fingers reaching out to touch Orla’s face. She could sense that Luke and the rest of the room were staring at her and Beth now, but that no longer worried her.
‘Does it make you sad?’ Beth asked at last.
Orla took a moment before answering. ‘Yes.’
‘But you’re still pretty.’
As the little girl smiled at Orla, she could feel tears pricking her eyes.
‘You’re pretty too,’ Orla told the girl as Margy came back into the room with the tea tray.
‘Beth!’ Margy cried. ‘What are you doing in here? You should be in bed!’ Margy looked around the room. ‘What is it? What did I miss?’
Orla saw Luke exhale a deep breath and Bill shook his head.
‘What?’ Margy asked.
Everyone looked at Orla and she gave Margy a little smile. ‘I’ll tell you later,’ she said.
‘You were amazing tonight,’ Luke told her as they walked through the darkened streets of Lorford.
‘Thank you and . . . thank you.’
‘I get two thank yous? What for?’
‘For making me do that. You were right – they’re really good people.’
‘They are, aren’t they?’
‘And I love that little girl.’
‘I think you’ve got a fan there.’
‘Well, she’s got one too,’ Orla assured him.
‘I don’t think Bill’s got over that yet. He was still a bit red in the face when we left.’
‘But Margy was so sweet.’
‘I think she was very touched when you told her your story.’ Luke smiled. They’d waited for the other guests to leave and then Orla had opened up to her hosts, answering their questions just as honestly and confidently as she had Beth’s.
‘It’s wonderful,’ Luke went on.
‘What is?’
‘How you’re growing in confidence all the time.’
‘Am I?’
‘Sure you are! You don’t feel it?’
Orla stopped walking and looked up at the star-spangled sky, inky dark and so inviting on that summer evening.
‘It’s happening so slowly, I’m not sure I’m feeling any confidence at all.’
‘But to even leave the castle – let alone go into a stranger’s house and not only talk to people, but to share your history with them – you’ve got to admit that’s pretty incredible. Compared to when I first met you and you wouldn’t even open the door.’
They began walking again.
‘I suppose.’
‘There’s no supposing about it, Orla. You’re opening yourself up to the possibilities of life again,’ Luke told her but, seeing her flinch, he asked, ‘What is it?’
‘It’s scary.’
‘What scares you?’
‘Just . . . everything! That phrase you use – opening yourself up – that scares me because, well, I might be experiencing lovely things like trips out with you into the countryside and evenings with friendly neighbours, but I’m opening myself up to the other things too – the things I’ve tried to shut out.’
Luke sighed. ‘I don’t think you can have one without the risk of the other. I haven’t yet met anyone who’s had a trouble-free life. I’m not sure how you’d go about it, to be honest. What would you do – write a letter to the universe saying you only want to be sent all the good bits of life? I don’t think it works that way.’
‘No, of course not. And you’ve had more than your share of the bad stuff.’
Luke didn’t say anything. The truth was, he was doing a pretty good job of shutting out the bad stuff while staying at Lorford Castle, which was ironic really because he was quite intent that Orla should get out of the castle and open herself up while he was happily shutting himself away in this little corner of Suffolk.
‘Sorry,’ Orla suddenly said, interrupting his thoughts. ‘That came out wrong.’
‘What did?’
‘It sounded awful – I didn’t mean to dismiss Helen’s death as bad stuff.’
‘But it is.’
‘Yes, but those words weren’t right.’
‘No words are right for it.’
‘I know.’
They walked in silence for a few moments, Luke desperately trying to shut out an assault of upsetting thoughts about Helen. She would have loved a night like this, he thought – an indigo sky full of gentle starlight and a cool breeze following the warmth of the summer day. And how she would have loved a place like Lorford, with its pretty homes and quirky residents – like Margy with her ever-present knitting. He just knew she’d be fascinated by it all. Luke smiled and blinked away a rebellious tear, glad the darkness shielded his face from Orla.
When they reached the castle, they were greeted by One Ear, who was thrilled to see them both.
‘I’ll just give him a quick run in the garden,’ Orla said, leaving Luke alone for a few minutes. He needed that time. He needed to collect his thoughts and settle his agitation because he’d come to a realisation and knew that, in helping Orla with her problems, he was successfully shutting out his own.
Bill arrived at his usual time to attend to the garden at the castle the morning after the meeting but, for the first time in the two years he’d been gardening for Miss Kendrick, it felt different. He had now met his employer and oh, how lovely she was. He still couldn’t believe the events of the evening before and how she’d not only attended the meeting in the first place, but had sat amongst them all, hat and glasses removed, and had openly answered all of Beth’s questions. He’d never forget the initial feeling of horror he’d felt when his little granddaughter had come into the room and clocked Orla. He’d had a moment of pure terror, wondering if the girl was going to scream or make some kind of scene. Well, she’d made a scene of sorts, that was for sure, but everyone had been riveted by it, and Bill had a feeling that those innocent questions had done Orla the power of good to answer. It had certainly broken the tension between everyone; they had all, he felt, been made a little anxious by Orla’s presence – not because they didn’t like her, but because they were being overly careful not to say the wrong thing or to look at her in the wrong way. Orla had marked herself out as different by hiding away from them all for so long and everybody had been moving around her with care and caution.