‘This,’ she said as she placed it on a corner of the only free table in the room and began to unwrap it. Luke watched in anticipation as she removed layer upon layer of wrapping. What was inside?
When the final piece of bubble wrap was removed, he found himself staring at a teapot.
‘Oh,’ he said, unable to hide his disappointment.
Orla frowned at him. ‘It’s Coalport. Quite rare. Look!’ She held it up to the light and Luke saw the delicate creamy white of the china and the pretty sprigs of blue flowers. ‘It’s early nineteenth century.’
‘But it’s chipped,’ he pointed out, reaching to touch the chip at the edge of the spout.
‘I know, and there’s a hairline crack here,’ Orla told him, running her finger across it at the base of the handle. ‘And here.’ Her finger journeyed to the other side of the teapot to trace the thin imperfection there.
‘Ah, yes! That’s part of their charm for you, isn’t it?’
She nodded. ‘Nobody else would want these things or really value them. But, to me, they’re special.’
‘A bit like One Ear, eh?’
‘Exactly! I told you he’d been in the rescue home for months?’
‘Yes.’
‘Nobody wanted him until I came along. But I knew he was the one for me. We had . . .’ – she paused – ‘things in common.’
Luke finally made the connection, because Orla was missing her left ear. It wasn’t always obvious because she managed to hide her loss with her long dark hair, but he couldn’t help wondering if that was why she’d been drawn to the disfigured dog.
‘Orla?’
‘Yes?’
‘What happened to you?’
She looked up, lowering the teapot carefully to the table. ‘You can’t ask me that.’
‘Why not? You know what’s happened to me.’
‘That’s different.’
‘How?’
‘You came to me with that; I didn’t come to you.’
Luke sighed. She was right. ‘But I’d like to know. I mean, if you don’t mind talking about it.’
‘I do mind.’
‘Okay.’ He backed down, seeing that she was upset. The last thing he wanted to do was to upset her. Helen would be furious with him if she knew he’d upset her, wouldn’t she?
Orla’s gaze dropped down to the teapot again. Teapots and cups and saucers were safe, weren’t they? He could see why she surrounded herself with them. They didn’t ask questions.
‘I’ll leave you to it,’ he said, feeling awkward and backing out of the room.
‘Luke?’
He stopped in the doorway and turned back to face her.
‘It’s not that I don’t want to tell you. It’s that – I can’t . . .’ Her voice caught in her throat and her eyes sparkled with sudden tears. ‘I can’t talk about it.’
‘It’s okay. Really.’
She nodded, reminding him of a scared little girl standing in the middle of that room surrounded by all that china. The pieces were like grown-up toys, he thought. An adult’s version perhaps. Beautiful distractions from whatever horror she was trying to shut out.
Chapter 9
Despite Orla telling him that she didn’t want to talk to him about her past or the way she chose to live her life, Luke couldn’t help thinking of ways to reach out to her. The thing he kept coming back to was the horticultural group he’d seen advertised in the village. He was so sure that he could help her and he couldn’t help feeling that Helen was somehow guiding him in this. So, the next day, after a good couple of hours working on repointing one of the walls in the great chamber, Luke walked into the village and reread the poster on the noticeboard.
‘New members welcome,’ he read again. There was a telephone number and an address. Oyster Cottage, Quay Road. Luke looked up into the sky and decided to walk down towards the quay. The red-bricked cottages that lined the narrow street looked resplendent in the sunshine and gardens were colouring up with the bright purples of alliums and the first roses of summer. As he approached the quay, the sound of gulls pierced the sky and he started to look out for Oyster Cottage. It wasn’t hard to find and he was soon knocking on the door. As with his arrival at the castle, the sound of barking was heard, but this sounded like a much smaller dog than One Ear. Mind you, weren’t all dogs much smaller than One Ear, Luke thought?
The door was opened by a pretty woman whose long white hair was swept up in a messy bun. She was holding a pair of knitting needles in her hand from which a long project in purple and green dangled.
‘Hello,’ Luke said. ‘I’m Luke Hansard. I’ve come about the horticultural club.’
‘You’ll want to speak to my husband,’ she said. ‘Come in.’
Luke stepped into a narrow hallway. The sound of barking was louder now, coming from behind a door which had been resolutely closed on the anxious animal.
‘He’s in the garden,’ the woman explained.
‘Appropriately enough.’
‘He lives outdoors at this time of year. Well, at all times, really.’
They reached the back door and Luke saw a garden with neat borders full of colourful blooms, a small pond and a tiny blue shed. And in the middle of it all was a white-haired man wearing a tweed cap, bent over as he deadheaded a rose bush.
‘Someone about the horticultural club,’ his wife announced, and the man looked up.
Luke did a double take. ‘Ah, Bill, isn’t it?’
‘Luke?’
‘Yes.’
‘How are you?’
‘Very well.’
‘You two know each other?’ Bill’s wife asked.
‘Sort of,’ Luke said. ‘Met each other at the allotments the other day.’
‘Still in Lorford, I see.’
‘I’m actually doing some work on the castle now.’
‘Are you?’
‘Your suggestion was a good one.’
Bill removed his cap and scratched his head. ‘I’m glad to hear it. So, you wanted to talk about the horticultural club?’
‘Yes.’
‘Margy – how about a cup of tea, yes?’
Luke nodded. ‘Thank you.’
‘I’ll get the kettle on,’ Margy said, disappearing back inside as Bill gestured towards a bench.
‘This is a nice garden you’ve got here,’ Luke told Bill. ‘Like your allotment. I can see it’s a passion of yours.’
‘You could say that.’
Luke looked around in admiration, thinking of how Helen had adored their tiny garden in Kent.
‘Luke – come and see this peony! Isn’t it a beauty?’
Luke flinched and he looked around in confusion. He could have sworn . . .
‘Are you okay, son?’ Bill asked him, leaning forward.
‘Erm – yeah.’ Luke blinked and focused on the man sitting next to him. He’d heard her, hadn’t he? It had been Helen’s voice. Nobody else’s.
‘You wanted to talk about our little club?’ Bill prompted.
‘Yes. I’d like to come to the next meeting.’
‘This Friday? You’d be very welcome.’
‘It’s here, right?’
‘In our front room, such as it is. We tried the village hall, but it’s just too draughty.’
‘I’m hoping to bring someone with me,’ Luke went on.
‘Oh, yes?’
‘Orla.’
Bill looked stricken by this news. ‘Miss Kendrick?’
‘Yes.’
‘She wants to come?’
‘Not exactly. She doesn’t know anything about it yet.’
‘Then what makes you think—’
‘Look, it’s a long shot, I know, but I think getting out into the community will do her some good.’
Bill shook his head. ‘I don’t disagree with you, but she’s lived in Lorford for two years. I think she’d have joined in with village life by now if it was ever going to happen.’
‘I know. I might have a battle on my hands, but I really t
hink I might be able to help her. I want to try, at least. It’s kind of a – well – a challenge I’ve set myself.’
‘Well, that’s admirable, son, but how are you going to do that?’
‘I’m not sure. But it’s got to be worth a try, hasn’t it? I mean, she can’t be happy shut away like that all day.’
Bill sighed. ‘I can’t imagine she is. But it isn’t your everyday sort of person who buys a castle, is it? I mean, if she’d wanted to be a part of things, she wouldn’t have put a tower of stone between herself and the community, would she? It’s a wonder she let you in. I have to say, I’m still surprised by that.’
Luke nodded. ‘Me too. I don’t think it was an easy decision for her, but we kind of connected.’
‘And you think you can use that connection now? To bring her out of herself?’
‘I do. I really do.’
Margy arrived then with the tea things, neatly presented on a floral tray together with a plate of chocolate chip cookies.
‘Thank you!’ Luke said. ‘It looks wonderful.’
Margy smiled and left them to it. The two men picked up their teacups and drank in silence for a moment. Bill was the first to speak.
‘Are you sure it won’t be too overwhelming?’ he asked. ‘Our club meeting, I mean. Our front room is on the small side. She’s going to be in close proximity to a lot of people.’
‘She got used to me pretty quickly. And she already knows you.’
‘Well, I wouldn’t say she knows me. I only met her for the first time the other day and we didn’t exactly have time to bond.’
‘No,’ Luke agreed. ‘But you’re all a friendly bunch, aren’t you?’
‘Well, of course.’
‘How many of you are there?’
‘About fifteen altogether, but not everyone shows up at once. There are usually seven or eight at each meeting.
Luke nodded. ‘That doesn’t sound too scary.’
‘Not for you maybe, but what about for Miss Kendrick?’
Luke didn’t reply. The truth of the matter was that he hadn’t really got beyond the initial excitement of coming up with the idea. But he couldn’t help admitting he was becoming more nervous now.
‘I guess we’ll soon find out,’ he said bravely.
Bill took another sip of his tea, keeping his thoughts to himself, but doing a pretty bad job of hiding his scepticism.
Orla had watched as Luke left the castle. He hadn’t said anything about where he was going and she didn’t think it was her business to ask. But it seemed that he wasn’t going for tools or equipment for his work because he hadn’t taken the van. She’d looked down from one of the high windows as he’d walked along the driveway and opened the gates, closing them behind him a moment later. He’d briefly glanced up at the castle then but, to her relief, hadn’t shown any signs of seeing her. She didn’t want him to think she was spying on him.
After she was sure he wasn’t coming back immediately, she went to look at the area he’d been working on, smiling at his progress. It was still strange having him in her home, but she had to admit that there was something rather comforting about it too, and it felt strange now that he’d left for a while. The atmosphere had changed somehow. She couldn’t quite explain it to herself, but she felt it as a kind of loss.
Was she slowly getting used to having people around her again? Was she beginning to trust once more? Perhaps it was still too early to say, but one thing she was sure of – she liked Luke.
A little later on, the front doorbell rang. One Ear raced towards it, barking in warning as he usually did.
‘It’s just me, Orla!’ Luke called from the other side, and Orla smiled and let him in.
‘You’ll never guess where I’ve been,’ Luke said as they walked across the great hall. He sounded excited and anxious too and Orla couldn’t begin to guess what he’d been up to.
‘Tell me.’
‘Oyster Cottage.’
‘Where’s that?’
‘On the way to the quay. It’s where your gardener lives.’
‘Oh?’
‘And we have a lovely invitation for Friday night.’
Orla frowned, not understanding. ‘What do you mean?’
Luke smiled. ‘Did you know Bill hosts Lorford’s horticultural club? Well, there’s a meeting on Friday. All about herbs. I think you probably know more about herbs than I do, but I thought it would be fun to go along. You know – get out of the castle for a bit and get to know a few people. What do you think?’
Orla stared at him, unable to believe that he was even suggesting such a thing.
‘Are you serious?’
He swallowed hard, but then nodded. ‘I think it will do you good. They’re wonderful people here in the village and they’re bound to be friendly and welcoming. And you’ve only to walk a little distance. It’s not really far at all.’
Orla didn’t respond for a moment because she really didn’t know what to say.
‘It’s just a little meeting of friends at Bill’s,’ Luke went on. ‘You’ve already met Bill. He’s a really decent bloke. His wife’s lovely too. She makes these cookies – they’re amazing. Chocolate chip. She’ll probably make some more for the meeting.’ Luke paused.
Again, Orla didn’t respond.
‘What do you think, Orla?’ he asked.
At last, she found her voice. ‘What do I think? God, Luke! I can’t believe you thought I’d go with you!’ she cried. ‘What gave you the right to make that decision for me?’
‘Orla – listen to me.’
‘No, Luke! You listen to me! Ever since you got here, you’ve done nothing but pry and ask questions about my past and the way I live. You’re the one who came here to tell me about your life, and I’m truly sorry for what’s happened to you, and to Helen. It breaks my heart that it happened, but that doesn’t automatically give you the right to expect me to open up to you! I like you – I really do – but I’m finding all this very stressful. And this – this plan of yours to get me out of my own home – well, it feels like a horrible betrayal,’ she told him. ‘Just when I was beginning to trust you too!’
‘Orla!’ Luke took a step forward, but Orla backed away. ‘Please, Orla – I didn’t mean to upset you, although I seem to be doing nothing but that.’
She looked at him, her eyes full of tears. ‘Maybe it’s time for you to go.’
Her words hung in the air for a moment.
‘Can’t we talk about this some more?’ Luke asked, but Orla felt as if she had nothing more to say to him. ‘Okay.’ He nodded, and she watched as he backed out of the room.
Orla couldn’t believe what Luke had suggested. She felt stunned. Stunned and betrayed. How dare he make assumptions about her willingness to attend social events. Didn’t he realise how truly terrifying that was for her? It didn’t matter if it was the home of her gardener or if the members of the club were all nice people. They were still strangers and strangers were always dangerous, weren’t they?
Orla took a deep breath in order to try and calm herself down, knowing that her heart raced wildly when she felt threatened like this. It was a feeling that was hateful to her, but she couldn’t control it. Anything outside her comfort zone made her feel threatened and Luke obviously didn’t understand that, did he? She’d thought he had, but how could he? He could only imagine what it was like being her. He didn’t really know. He’d probably thought he was trying to help her, only he was doing the very opposite of that, and she just couldn’t handle that. Not yet and maybe not ever. So that meant only one thing – Luke had to leave, didn’t he? As much as it pained her, and it really did, he had to go.
Luke made the slow, painful walk to his bedroom, silently cursing himself for having upset Orla yet again. He couldn’t blame her for throwing him out. He’d brought nothing but bad news and trouble with his arrival and he’d caused her so much upset. It was a wonder she hadn’t set One Ear on him, although he had a feeling that the dog was a gentle giant and
didn’t really have what it took to be a decent guard dog. Still, he wouldn’t like to put him to the test and so he quickly packed his few belongings.
After stripping his bed, he took a moment to look out of the arched window of his bedroom, out towards the red rooftops of the village. He’d sincerely thought that his idea for Orla to attend a gathering in the village had been a good one and certainly something that Helen would have encouraged. He’d so wanted to help her build a metaphorical drawbridge from her castle out towards the community and he knew in his heart that that was what Helen had wanted for her friend too. He was so sure the villagers would be good for her and that she had so much to offer them. It bothered him that she was so closed off from the world and the lovely little community on her doorstep. But perhaps it had been naive of him to think he could charge in and change her habits overnight.
Leaving the bedroom, Luke walked through to the great chamber to collect all his work tools and fold away the dust sheets. He reached out to touch the cold stone wall he’d been repointing and looked down at the floorboards, regretting that he wouldn’t have the chance to repair them now. He was going to miss this castle and his work here. He hadn’t realised how much it meant to him until now, but he’d come to love the castle. He could see why Orla had bought it and how easy it would be to cocoon yourself away in such a place. It was a unique home and, alas, it was one he had to leave.
His van was parked in the driveway and it depressed him to think that he would be driving it home now. He didn’t feel ready to face home. But maybe he didn’t have to. Maybe he could stop off somewhere on the way – just find some random hotel and hide away for a few days. If he’d learned anything from his time at the castle, it was that the outside world was pretty easy to shut out if you were determined.
Reaching his van, he opened the back doors and placed his toolbox and bag in there before returning for the rest of his equipment. He’d probably never get to work on another castle again, that was for sure, but he was going to miss more than the castle. He was going to miss Orla. He sighed as he remonstrated with himself again for having made such a mess of things. He’d blundered into her life and tried to make changes to it that simply weren’t welcome. Well, he’d learned his lesson. Some people couldn’t be changed or, at least, didn’t want to be.
The Beauty of Broken Things Page 11