The Beauty of Broken Things

by Victoria Connelly

  One Ear, who’d run up to the van in happy anticipation, was now by his mistress’s side, and the three of them returned to the castle. Orla’s hands were shaking too much to be able to use the key so Luke gently took it from her and let them in.

  ‘Lock the door!’

  ‘Of course,’ he said, locking them inside once more as Orla retreated to her bedroom. Once the door was closed, she leaned her head against it, the dizzying sensation she’d felt outside slowly lifting now she was safely back inside. What must Luke think of her, she wondered? Turning around, she walked across the room to her bed as hot tears slid down her cheeks. She’d tried, she told herself. She’d dredged up every bit of courage she had and she’d walked out of her front door with the intention of going out into the world. It hadn’t worked, but she had at least tried.

  Luke had done his best not to show his disappointment as they returned to the castle. Getting Orla to even agree to leave the castle was progress so they were definitely moving in the right direction.

  He gave Orla all the time and space she needed and, as he expected, she hid herself away in the china room for the most part, photographing cups and bowls for Galleria. He understood why; he too found solace in his work and he had felt a kind of peace settling upon him recently.

  For a moment, he thought back to the Luke he had been at home – the one who had counted down the hours of each day until he’d felt it was a reasonable hour to pour himself a drink. He had only had one single glass of wine since he’d been at the castle and that had been on the night Orla had told him about her attack. She’d been drinking too, and he was glad that he hadn’t seen her drinking since. That, he knew, wasn’t the answer to anything.

  He was hoping that he and Orla being under the same roof was of some benefit to both of them. He certainly felt calmer living at the castle, and being able to help Orla by listening to her and encouraging her was, in some small way, helping him with his own pain, and that could only be a good thing, couldn’t it? Helen would approve of that, wouldn’t she?

  He’d been thinking about how Helen would have reacted to Orla’s story. Helen had known that Orla had been hiding away from the world and had wanted to reach out to her, but could she ever have guessed what had happened to her? There was a huge part of Luke that felt that he was very much carrying the spirit of Helen with him in helping Orla, and that made him feel good.

  Luke continued with his work. He was just about to return to the basement to inspect the boarded-up section of wall when he noticed that a window frame in one of the passages was in imminent danger of disintegrating if not attended to, so he began making arrangements to repair that first.

  The next day, Orla surprised Luke by saying that she’d try again. Like before, she made it down the steps of the castle and began walking across the driveway to Luke’s van. This time, however, she managed to get inside. Luke had made room in the back for One Ear, who hopped in without any great concern, instantly at home.

  ‘Right – ready?’ he asked Orla. ‘Belt on?’

  Orla nodded. She’d lost the power of speech, it seemed.

  Luke had already opened the gates and he slowly put the van into gear and drove through them. But, before he’d managed to turn onto the road into the village, Orla screamed.

  ‘Stop!’

  ‘You don’t want to go?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘Okay, no problem.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry!’ The tears were coming thick and fast now.

  ‘It’s all right, Orla. Don’t get upset about it. It’s okay.’

  As soon as the van was parked, Orla stumbled out, almost falling up the steps to the front door. As before, her shaking hands wouldn’t allow her to use the key so Luke unlocked the door and, like before, gave her plenty of space to recover.

  It was two days later before Orla approached Luke again with the idea of going out. By the look on his face, he was surprised that she’d suggested it, but he quickly cleared away his materials and they were, once again, leaving the castle.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked as the three of them walked down the steps for the third time.

  ‘Determined,’ she said.

  ‘Good.’

  Orla watched as One Ear jumped into the back of the van, as calm as he was the first time. If only she could feel as relaxed as he did, she thought as she climbed up into the passenger seat.

  Having opened the gates, Luke started the engine and the van moved down the drive. She could feel Luke’s eyes upon her as they reached the road. This is where she’d bottled out last time and she could feel her heart was racing as the van left the grounds of her home. They were out! They’d made it. Luke turned and grinned at her.

  ‘Okay?’

  She nodded. ‘Okay.’

  So, this was her village, she thought as they drove past the red-brick cottages to enter the market square. She really couldn’t remember much about it at all. She’d only driven through it a couple of times when viewing the castle and making the necessary arrangements for moving. She’d gazed down onto the streets from the top of the castle, of course, but it was quite a different experience seeing it from street level. It really was very pretty. There were people too. Orla felt a little shocked to see them at first and pushed her sunglasses further up her nose, making sure, quite unnecessarily, that they were on securely. But nobody was paying her the slightest attention. These were people simply getting on with their day-to-day living – shopping, walking the dog, waiting for a bus or venturing to their allotment.

  ‘Bill!’ Luke suddenly called, sounding his horn and waving.

  Orla nearly leapt out of her seat.

  ‘Sorry!’ Luke said quickly as Bill waved back at them.

  Orla took a few deep breaths before settling down again.

  ‘That was Bill,’ Luke said.

  ‘So I gathered.’

  They turned out of the village onto a road that went past the primary school and playing fields. Orla didn’t remember any of this at all and she looked at it now as if for the first time. She had managed to shut herself off from the village, but life still very much went on without her.

  The van picked up speed as it left Lorford behind, entering the countryside. It was a hauntingly beautiful landscape of massive fields and ebony-dark pine trees, great expanses of heather and, over everything, the deep blue of the sky.

  ‘Wonderful day to be outside, isn’t it?’ Luke said. ‘How about parking somewhere and going for a walk?’

  One Ear barked from the back.

  ‘Sounds like he’s on board with the idea.’

  ‘Okay.’ Orla nodded. A walk sounded safe. She could do a walk. A couple of moments later, Luke pulled into a little car park by one of the heaths. Pushing her glasses up her nose again and making sure her hat was firmly in place, she opened the van door and got out. Luke had the back door open for One Ear and he jumped out with one quick move and trotted to his mistress’s side.

  The sky was a peerless blue and Orla could hear the spiralling song of a skylark high above. The heath stretched for miles and she imagined that it would be even lovelier when the purple of the heather coloured the landscape later in the summer. Silver birches dotted the heath, their trunks straight and bright. Luke was right, Orla thought. It was a good day to be out amongst it all. She’d done well and Luke had done well to make her do this.

  She watched as One Ear poked his nose into the heather, no doubt picking up the scents of rabbits and other rodents. It was good for him to have a new environment to explore. She felt guilty that he didn’t get to go anywhere other than the beach. Not that there was anything wrong with the beach. It was their own little paradise and she felt very lucky to have it on her doorstep, but perhaps it was unfair that One Ear only ever had that place as his playground because of Orla’s angst.

  Orla knew that she could never begin to relax in a public place, but she felt something akin to happiness spreading through her as they continued walking
. She’d always found that there was something in the very action of walking that helped to still the mind and quell anxiety. The movement of the body was good for the mind, she believed. She’d walked her way out of so many bad moods and sad moments and she was determined that this walk was going to be a positive one too.

  That was before she saw the stranger.

  It was just a normal man wearing a T-shirt and a pair of jeans. He was in his late thirties and was walking with a Border collie close by his heels. He didn’t even look their way as he approached. He was far too interested in looking at the screen of his mobile phone but, even so, Orla could feel herself starting to panic. Luke, obviously sensing this, was by her side in an instant, making sure he was the one nearest as the man passed them.

  ‘Okay?’ he asked, once the man was on his way.

  She nodded, thankful that there were no other people in-between them and the horizon.

  They walked on in companionable silence, the sun gloriously warm on their backs and the earth sandy and soft beneath their feet. When they came to a natural crossroads, Luke took the right turn, which led into the cool shade of a wood. It seemed strange to leave the wide landscape behind them and to be surrounded by trees. Everything seemed hushed. Orla, who was used to the open expanse of the beach, realised quickly that she didn’t like being enclosed like this. Anyone could hide amongst the trees and get close to her.

  Suddenly, she started looking around as if there might, in fact, be someone in there.

  ‘Orla?’

  ‘I need to get out.’

  ‘Of the wood?’

  ‘Get me back.’

  ‘Okay, we’ll get you back. Take my hand.’

  Orla felt Luke’s hand close around her own, strong and supportive, as everything else seemed strange and nebulous. She was having one of her dizzy spells, which often came on when she felt threatened. The slightest thing could bring it on – the sighting of someone she didn’t recognise, like the man with the Border collie, or a movement caught out of the corner of her eye.

  ‘Nearly there,’ Luke said as they reached the van a few minutes later.

  Orla felt exhausted, her body drenched with fear, and she sank back into the passenger seat, closing her eyes against the world as if that would make it all go away.

  ‘Shall we just drive around for a while?’ Luke suggested.

  Orla nodded. It was all she seemed capable of doing. Finally, after a few minutes, she opened her eyes. They were still in the countryside, passing a broad river edged with blond reed beds which danced in the summer breeze. Luke wound his window down a little and the fresh salty air filled the van and One Ear started sniffing in appreciation. They passed fabulous flint churches and thatched cottages huddled around village greens and, turning a corner in an easterly direction, they caught a tantalising glimpse of the sea.

  Orla was finally beginning to feel a little more normal and, although she wasn’t completely relaxed, she was able to enjoy her surroundings now that she was safe in the van.

  As they passed a little garden centre Luke sprang a new challenge on her.

  ‘Fancy going in?’

  Orla didn’t need to think about it. She hadn’t done any shopping in a real shop since before the acid attack. ‘Not today,’ she told Luke.

  ‘Mind if I pop in quickly?’

  ‘Erm, no,’ Orla said as he pulled into a farm track to turn around and go back.

  ‘Anything you want?’

  ‘No, thank you,’ she said politely. As fun as it might be to look at the plants and the seeds, Orla left that side of things to Bill.

  ‘Well, I won’t be long,’ he said a moment later, parking and getting out of the van. Orla watched and One Ear whined, wondering why he wasn’t being allowed to follow Luke on this new adventure.

  ‘It’s all right,’ Orla assured him, when she wasn’t altogether sure herself. She looked out of the window, hoping to spot Luke, but she couldn’t see him anywhere. She could so easily have opened the door and gone to join him, but it wasn’t easy at all, was it? That was the problem. The opening of the door and the walking to meet him were just the mechanics of the thing. But there was a whole psychology side to it which prevented her from doing it. The fear of the unknown – of what might be on the other side of that door. Or who might be on the other side of that door and if they might wish her harm.

  And so she sat, rigidly staring straight ahead, ever mindful of the people coming and going around her. Where had he got to? He was taking an absolute age in there.

  Finally, he returned, a huge smile on his face as he opened the door and got into the van, presenting Orla with a voluptuous pink geranium in a terracotta pot.

  ‘For you.’

  ‘You bought this for me?’ Orla was genuinely surprised by the gift.

  ‘I wanted to celebrate. You’ve done so well today.’

  ‘But I haven’t! I’ve been hopeless!’

  ‘No, you weren’t! Not at all. And “hopeless” is the very last word I’d use to describe today. For me, it felt full of hope.’

  ‘It did?’

  ‘Yes! Look!’ He pointed to the milometer. ‘We’ve driven over twenty miles so far. That’s twenty whole miles you’ve explored after having explored precisely none in the last couple of years. Surely that’s worth celebrating.’

  She looked down at the beautiful plant which sat on her lap. ‘You’re right,’ she said at last. ‘It is worth celebrating. Thank you. Thank you so much.’

  ‘You’re welcome. And I know Helen would be so proud of you.’

  ‘She would?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ Luke told her, knowing it to be true. ‘Where to now?’

  Orla stared out of the window. They’d gone twenty whole miles and had seen places she hadn’t known existed before. And here was this kind man willing to take her anywhere she wanted to go.

  ‘Home,’ she said at last.

  ‘Yeah?’

  Orla nodded. ‘Yes.’

  ‘No problem.’

  She wrapped her hands protectively around the pot and a little smile began to play around the corners of her mouth. She had left the castle. She had been out into the big, wide world. And now she was going back home.

  The slow summer days turned into weeks and June became July. Luke continued his work on the castle, repointing, replastering and repainting, and, each week, he and Orla would venture out in the van, driving a little further and walking a greater distance. Orla’s confidence was building and she’d even ventured into the garden centre with Luke one time, glasses and hat firmly in place, and had bought a large heather to plant in her garden and remind her of the heath and of her first walk with Luke.

  Luke was delighted with her progress. So much so that he dared to broach the subject he’d been skirting around for some time now. It was one evening, when they were sitting in the great hall, having walked for two hours across the heath, which was now wearing its magenta blooms so prettily. He cleared his throat.

  ‘There’s another horticultural club meeting at Bill’s on Friday.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Yes. Thought I’d pop along.’

  ‘Right.’

  Luke waited, hoping Orla might surprise him and volunteer to go with him. But her eyes remained fixed on the book she was reading.

  ‘I was wondering . . . now that you’re going out more . . . now that you’re more confident around people . . .’

  Orla closed her book and gave him her full attention. ‘Luke, I only went into a garden centre.’

  ‘Yes, but you bought that plant and took it to the till and everything. You didn’t so much as flinch, let alone start hyperventilating!’

  ‘Are you making fun of me?’

  ‘God, no! I’d never do that. I’m really proud of you, and I don’t mean that to sound condescending or anything. I really admire what you’ve done, but I can’t help wanting to see you do more. You’ve got so much to give, Orla, and I think the people in the horticultural club would lo
ve to meet you.’

  ‘Well, I’m not going.’

  Luke watched in exasperation as she opened her book up again. ‘But it’s just a little get-together at Bill’s home, and you know him already, and his wife’s great. The rest of the group are really friendly too.’

  ‘I don’t need any friends.’

  ‘We all need friends, Orla.’

  ‘You go, if you need friends.’

  ‘I will. I am. But I’d like you to come with me.’

  Orla sighed. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I think it will do you good. How long have you been here on your own now? How many people do you know in the village you’ve chosen to live in? You have to admit that it’s not normal.’

  Orla sighed, clearly exasperated. ‘Not everybody needs to be around people all the time.’

  ‘I know that, and I’m not suggesting that you should be all the time. But once in a while might be nice, don’t you think?’ Luke realised that his voice had raised a little with the passion behind his words and so he made a conscious effort to tone it down a little. ‘You can’t live in these little boxes you create for Galleria. It just doesn’t seem healthy to me. I think you need to reach beyond those boxes and stop talking to people online and start talking to them in real life.’

  ‘But my online friends are very real. It’s how I met Helen.’

  Luke swallowed. ‘I know. But it’s a different kind of friendship, isn’t it? It’s all at a distance. I think you need to meet people – in reality. In the flesh!’

  ‘You’re in the flesh.’

  ‘Yes, I am, but I’m only one person and I’m not going to be here for ever, am I?’ His question hung in the air between them.

  ‘But I don’t feel I need—’

  ‘You didn’t want to leave the castle and come out with me in the van a few weeks ago, but look at how much you enjoy that now.’

  ‘That’s different – I’m with you.’

  ‘And you’ll be with me at this meeting at Bill’s. Come on, Orla – come with me. If you don’t like it, we don’t have to stay long.’

  ‘They’ll stare at me.’