‘It is not!’ I laugh in disbelief. Katie’s positivity and optimism never fail to amaze me. ‘So, tell me, how did your date go last night? Any good?’
‘Well, let’s put it this way’ – she smiles mischievously – ‘he’s only just gone home.’
‘That good, eh?’
‘Oh, Orla he was just perfect!’ she says dreamily. ‘We got on so well and he paid for my meal and everything. He’s going to call me tonight and hopefully we’ll go out again.’
Suppressing the urge to roll my eyes, I smile and nod encouragingly. This is not an unusual occurrence. Katie goes on lots of dates with men she meets on dating websites, and they are almost always ‘perfect’, until they stop being perfect a few days or weeks down the line. To her credit, she doesn’t spend much time moping about them, she just moves on to the next. Personally, I couldn’t be bothered with the hassle. I don’t even know why she wants a boyfriend so badly. Boyfriends just complicate things. I like being single and not having to share my lovely white bed with some stinky man. If I don’t feel like shaving my legs, then I don’t shave my legs. I can do whatever I like when I like without having to consider anyone else’s feelings. Besides, I’m just too busy for a boyfriend. I often work late in the office, and even go in on the weekend if needed.
Katie’s still talking about last night’s date and I’m happy to listen while I finish my breakfast. She makes more tea and helps me to the toilet, then we watch TV until my mum calls around to collect my car keys.
Katie opens the door and Mum looks horrified when she sees the huge bandage over my swollen foot. ‘You didn’t tell me it was this bad!’ she says, running her hand through her curly blonde hair. That’s where I get mine from – and the wide-set blue eyes. Everyone says we look exactly alike.
‘Well, I did tell you I’d been carried into the hospital by a stranger, so that should tell you a little bit of how bad it is.’
‘But you said it wasn’t broken. I thought you were just being a drama queen.’
‘According to the nurse at the hospital, a sprain can be just as painful as a break,’ I say indignantly. I’m annoyed about the drama queen comment. When have I ever been a drama queen? Well, maybe when I was a teenager, but certainly not recently. ‘It should heal quicker, though,’ I add when I see the worried look cross her face.
‘Do you want me to stay with you? I can take time off work and look after you.’
‘No, you don’t have to do that! You’ve got Ray and Keeley to think about.’ Keeley’s only 10. She’s my half-sister, and I know Mum needs to be at home for her. My stepdad Ray works long hours so it wouldn’t be fair to commandeer her time like that. ‘Besides, I’ve got Katie upstairs if I need help.’
Katie beams and nods. Mum watches me worriedly. ‘Well, I really feel like you should have someone with you. Why don’t you stay with us for a while?’
‘You haven’t got room for me, Mum. Your spare room is full of junk.’
‘We can clear it.’
I laugh, thinking of the car parts that Ray stores in there, and the general junk they’ve accrued over the years. It stopped being my bedroom as soon as I left to go to university at 18. ‘No, you don’t have to go to all that trouble just for me. I’ll be alright.’
Mum gives me a worried look. ‘Well, I can come and sit with you tonight. I’ll get us a Chinese takeaway.’
I perk up at this. ‘That sounds good. Are you sure?’
‘Of course I am. Right, Ray’s waiting outside so I’ll go and get this car of yours. Have you got the address?’
‘Yep.’ I’ve jotted it down on the pad Aiden used to write his number, and I glance at his ungainly scrawl before flipping to the page with the address and ripping it out. ‘Thanks, Mum.’
‘No problem, see you in a bit.’
Katie leaves soon after, and I grab my phone and add Aiden’s number to my contacts. For some reason, having his number gives me a warm feeling inside, and I stare at it for a moment before sending him a text message:
Thanks for everything. Thought you’d like to know that my mum is staying tonight. Orla x
The instant the message goes, I regret the kiss. I want to snatch it back, but it’s already gone, zinging through the ether to his phone. I console myself by thinking he probably won’t receive it anyway; being out in the woods like that, I doubt the phone signal is any good. But within seconds my phone pings with a message:
Good x
Chapter 4
‘So, you’re not coming in today then, Orla?’ Phil says when I phone him on Monday morning and tell him about my ankle.
‘No, I’m sorry but I’ve really hurt my ankle and I won’t be able to make it into the office. I can work from home though.’
‘Is it broken?’
‘No, just badly sprained, but I can’t walk on it yet. It should be better in the next couple of days though.’
‘How did you do it? Out dancing?’
‘No, I did it when I went to interview Aiden on Friday. He’d forgotten we were coming so I went to look for him in the woods and stepped in a rabbit hole. He was really lovely though. Took me to hospital and everything.’
‘Oh my God! Orla! That’s terrible. I’m so sorry.’
‘It’s alright. Just one of those things. I got the interview anyway. Just about to email you the article now.’
‘Oh! Well done!’
‘How was the fire?’
‘Good. The whole place burned to the ground. I got some great photos.’
I laugh. ‘Do you know how morbid that sounds?’
‘Of course, but it’ll make a good story. Besides, no one died so I’m golden. So you’re not planning on suing this guy then?’
‘Why would I sue him? He carried me up a hill to his truck, drove me to hospital, carried me into the hospital, then drove me home afterwards. He couldn’t have done more for me than that.’
‘He could have been up at the farm like he said he would be. Honestly, Orla, if a situation like that ever arises again, don’t go alone. Never put yourself in danger.’
‘I thought that was what being a reporter was all about? Pushing yourself to the limits to get the story.’
‘Maybe when you’re a war correspondent, but not when you’re a trainee reporter for the local rag. Think what would have happened if he was a rapist or a murderer!’
‘Yes, thanks, Phil. I’ve already had this lecture from my mum.’
‘Yeah, well, she’s right. And I feel bad too. I should have cancelled it and we could have gone together another time.’
‘Oh no!’ I say, panicking that he’d think I wasn’t good enough to go off on my own and do solo interviews. ‘It all worked out fine. He was great.’
‘Apart from you injuring yourself.’
‘Yes, but I didn’t break it. I’ll soon be back to normal, I just can’t get into the office today. Is there anything I can do from home?’
‘I’m sure I can find you something, although you can’t make me cups of coffee from home, can you?’ he says gloomily.