Home > The Beauty of Broken Things(44)

The Beauty of Broken Things(44)
Author: Victoria Connelly

‘Hauling wood around!’ Orla said.

‘Exactly!’

‘That’s a rotten trick, Luke! I would’ve been mad too.’

‘But that moment when she saw everyone in the restaurant. She really thought I’d forgotten her birthday. But everyone was there, and there were balloons and cake and candles. The works!’ He laughed at the memory. ‘I think she forgave me.’

‘I’m sure she did.’

They stopped for a moment and gazed out to sea, watching a pair of gulls riding the wind.

‘Luke?’

‘Yes?’

‘I didn’t know whether to tell you this or not,’ she began hesitantly.

‘What?’

‘You’ve been sleepwalking.’

Luke looked at her, his eyes still bright with tears. ‘You’re kidding?’

‘Several times now.’

He looked confused. ‘Where – how?’

‘I’ve found you sitting in the dark in the great hall a couple of times and, the other night, you were lighting candles.’

‘Candles?’

‘Perhaps for Helen’s birthday?’ Orla suggested, now that she had that piece of information.

‘It doesn’t seem like me.’

‘But you’re not quite you at the moment, are you?’ Orla said gently.

Luke closed his eyes. ‘No, I suppose not.’

‘You’ve got to be kind to yourself. Make sure you’re sleeping well and eating well. Take lots of long walks. Go out and see things. Take time to find yourself.’

He took a deep breath. ‘Everything I do seems sad now because it isn’t with Helen.’

‘Oh, Luke!’

‘I’ve been trying to focus on my work and – well – that’s good and it works sometimes. But she’s never very far away and I don’t want to block her out.’

‘And you shouldn’t.’ Orla watched as Luke gazed out to sea, his brow furrowed with pain. She had an incredible urge to smooth out the skin with her fingers and thought how very like her own damaged skin it looked and how they’d both been hurt and scarred by life.

‘I don’t know how to do this,’ Luke said in a voice barely audible above the waves.

Orla completely understood because, in her own way, she had been there too, only she’d been mourning the loss of her face.

‘One day at a time,’ she told him. ‘That’s how you do it.’

He lowered his head as if taking a moment to process this and then he gazed out to sea again, just as One Ear came splashing in the surf towards them, barking at a pair of gulls who were so tantalisingly close and yet so frustratingly far away.

Luke nodded. ‘One day at a time.’

 

 

Chapter 15

Bill stuck his garden fork in the newly turned earth and stretched his back.

‘I don’t think I should ask her,’ he told Margy as she handed him a mug of tea.

‘Well, I think you should,’ Margy told him. ‘It could be just the thing she needs to integrate into village life.’

‘But she’s doing that naturally on her own. I don’t want to push her.’

‘You won’t be. You’ll be offering her an opportunity. It’ll be up to her to take it up or turn it down.’

Bill pursed his lips. He didn’t like this. Orla was just beginning to trust him and to find her own way back into society. If he dared to push things too quickly too soon, she could easily revert back to her old ways. That was his fear anyway.

‘I’m not happy about this,’ he told his wife.

‘I know you’re not. But you can’t expect Mildred to do it, can you? She’s got enough on her plate and, anyway, you know Orla and she knows you. It’ll be better coming from you.’

Bill took a sip of his tea, silently cursing Mildred Smy. Not that it was her fault really. She was merely carrying out what needed to be done. It was just unfortunate that Bill had been roped into this.

‘Bill – you’ve got to do it! If you don’t, who else will? Everyone’s still a bit scared of Orla.’

‘That’s nonsense. She’s a lovely woman.’

‘Yes, well, we know that now, but others don’t, do they? She’s still the mysterious woman who locks herself away in the spooky old castle, isn’t she?’

Bill hadn’t thought about it like that. ‘I suppose she might seem odd.’

‘Oh, Bill! You know that’s odd. You never stopped going on about it when she first moved here. You said she must be a very peculiar sort not to even bother to say hello to her own gardener. Those were your exact words. A very peculiar sort!’

‘Margy, shush! For goodness’ sake!’ Bill said, terrified that the neighbours were out in their gardens and would hear and that word would get back to Orla.

‘You know it’s true, and you can’t blame people for still having – well – misgivings about her. Lorford is a small community and even people who are never seen get noticed.’

Bill frowned.

‘Oh, you know what I mean.’

Unfortunately, Bill did. Word soon got around when a property went up for sale, and eager eyes would watch to see the new arrivals. It wasn’t just nosiness, but genuine interest in one’s neighbours. After all, why would somebody move to a small place like Lorford unless they were going to be sociable? It was why it had been particularly galling to the community when the castle had been sold to a recluse. It had been the main topic of conversation for months as people had speculated about the new owner. And now word was out that she was making herself known and excitement was at an all-time high, although fear was in the mix too, it seemed.

‘Okay, I’ll do it,’ he said at last.

Margy crossed the space between them and stood on tiptoes to give him a kiss.

‘You taste of earth,’ she said.

‘Sorry.’

‘No, I like it!’

He smiled and watched as she went back inside with his empty mug, her mission accomplished. Bill sighed. He still didn’t like the idea, but he’d do it, and the sooner he got it over and done with, the better, so he brushed the earth from his trousers, cleaned his fork meticulously before putting it away in the shed and went inside to change clothes.

He left the house half an hour later, hair brushed and shirt collar straightened by Margy.

‘Just be you,’ she’d told him. ‘She likes you.’

She might not after what he had to ask, he thought to himself ruefully.

Approaching the castle, he felt like a schoolboy called up to see the head teacher. There was something about being in the presence of the castle when one wasn’t invited that was especially intimidating. Perhaps that was another reason why Orla had chosen to live there. It would be a brave person who would just show up and ring that big old bell, wouldn’t it?

Bill had never rung the bell at the front door before, although he had been inside that time he’d helped Orla bring Luke back from the beach. That dreadful day seemed like an age ago now and he couldn’t help thinking how much had changed in that time with both of them becoming such a part of his life now.

And I might be about to ruin it all, he thought to himself, taking a deep breath and ringing the bell.

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