The next day began with a perfect summer morning, and Luke approached Orla after breakfast.
‘I thought I’d pop into the local shop and get a few things. Want to come?’
Orla hesitated. She couldn’t help it. Staying safely indoors was still her default setting even after all the progress she’d made in recent days, but she found herself nodding and was rewarded when Luke smiled.
‘Good,’ he said.
They left the castle together, walking through the gate and making their way towards the market square. Orla was thankful that there wasn’t anybody hanging around at the gates that morning or she wouldn’t have been able to pass through them. Maybe the interest in the Wild Man was waning. She hoped so. Still, she couldn’t help feeling anxious as they entered the market square, and she looked around, peering down the little side streets that led off from it. One was full of towering hollyhocks and she could just make out a dark shape in the shadows. She shaded her eyes from the sun, trying to get a better look and then felt a chill run the length of her spine. It was Brandon.
She gasped. ‘Luke!’ she cried as she saw the man in the shadows turn and walk away.
‘What’s the matter?’ Luke asked.
‘I’m not sure. I thought I saw . . .’
‘What?’
Orla looked again, but there was nobody there.
‘Orla – what is it?’
She swallowed hard. ‘Nothing.’
‘Are you okay? You seem a bit – twitchy.’
Orla nodded, although she was feeling deeply unsettled, as if a part of her mind had reverted back to a time when she wasn’t quite in control of it.
‘Do you want to go back to the castle?’ he asked her.
She took a moment to think about it, but she wasn’t going to let the fear of shadows win over her today.
‘No. Let’s go shopping,’ she said.
The next day, Orla asked Luke to accompany her for her morning walk to the beach. He usually did, so she felt odd asking him, but she wanted to make sure she had somebody by her side – she was still feeling anxious after the incident in the village where she thought she’d seen Brandon. She was wearing her big hat and dark glasses again. They went just a little way towards putting a barrier between her and the world.
‘I can take One Ear if you don’t want to go out,’ Luke told her.
Orla shook her head adamantly. ‘I won’t be a prisoner to fear. Not any longer.’
‘I really don’t think you’ve anything to fear. The crowds have long gone now, haven’t they? I haven’t seen anyone around for a while now,’ Luke said, although she couldn’t help noticing the occasional glance he gave over his shoulder as they made their way through the reed beds towards the sea. It didn’t exactly put Orla at ease, but she was glad he was there to look out for her.
Reaching the beach, the sea air blew away Orla’s cares for a blissful half-hour. One Ear raced and chased, and Luke and Orla crunched across the pebbles and ambled over the acres of wet sand, dipping toes tentatively into the clear waves. It was always good to walk along the beach. No matter what was worrying you, the sound of the sea and the scent of the salty air always made life seem brighter and shinier.
They walked back through the fields, the sun hot upon their backs. Orla had almost forgotten the threat that had been hovering over her since the day before and the fear that had tightened her chest. Almost. Until she saw a figure hovering in the lane at the end of the footpath. It was a man in a baseball cap. He was some distance away, but it looked like the man who’d been hiding in the shadows in the village the day before, and Orla knew it was him.
‘Luke!’ Her voice was a little pip of despair and Luke’s arm was immediately around her shoulders.
‘Is that him?’
She nodded.
‘What do you want to do? Shall we go back the way we came?’
She saw Luke glance behind them. It would be frustrating to have to double back now when they were so close to home, Orla thought, and yet the fear of getting any closer to this man was almost unbearable.
‘No.’
‘No? You want to go on?’
‘Don’t let him near me.’
‘I won’t. One Ear won’t either, will you, boy?’
One Ear looked up from the clump of grass he was investigating and was immediately alert.
‘We’ve got you,’ Luke said, and they continued walking.
Orla felt horribly dizzy. The man at the end of the path was clearly waiting for them and he took his dark glasses off as they approached.
‘Oh, my God!’ he cried. ‘It is you! I thought it must be.’
Luke’s arm tightened around Orla’s shoulder as he ushered her past the man, One Ear trotting on her other side.
‘I’ve come all the way from London, Orla! I heard you were here and just had to see you. You disappeared!’
Orla shrank against Luke’s shoulder as if trying to make herself invisible.
‘Just ignore him,’ Luke whispered to her.
‘Did you get my flowers? I didn’t want to leave a message. I didn’t want to scare you.’
‘Well, you’re scaring her now, buddy – so back off!’ Luke shouted.
Orla kept her eyes lowered, her gaze firmly on her feet. Her breath was ragged. It was all she could do just to keep breathing and moving.
‘Why did you leave me? What did I ever do to you to deserve that?’ The man’s tone was changing now, and Luke and Orla picked up speed.
‘Don’t hide your face from me. I don’t mind about the acid attack. You’re still beautiful to me!’
‘Hey!’ Luke shouted, coming to a stop in front of him. ‘That’s enough.’
‘Who the hell are you?’
‘She doesn’t want anything to do with you, so go home before I call the police!’
The man didn’t respond to that and Luke guided Orla away from him as quickly as possible.
‘Orla!’ he shouted after her.
‘Come on. We’re nearly home,’ Luke told her.
In truth, Orla didn’t know where they were. She felt as if she was in the middle of some nightmare and was only vaguely aware of Luke’s voice and his guiding hand.
‘We’re here now,’ he said a moment later, and Orla could see the castle steps. They had never looked more welcoming.
She heard Luke open the door and then shut it behind them, bolting and locking it securely. It felt good to have all that heavy oak and stone between them and that madman, she thought, once again thankful for her decision to buy a castle.
‘It’s all right now! He’s gone,’ Luke told her, guiding her into the great hall. ‘I’m going to ring the police, okay?’
She nodded.
‘There is a restraining order on him, isn’t there? He shouldn’t be anywhere near you, right?’
At last, Orla found her voice. ‘Get rid of him!’ she cried, as she fled to her room.
Luke made a call to the police and later spotted a car patrolling outside. He put his tools down and made his way to the front gate, flagging the car down as it doubled back.
‘There’s no sign of him,’ the officer told him.
‘Well, he’s here somewhere,’ Luke told him. ‘Please keep looking. He’s been hanging around for a couple of days now at least.’
Luke gave the officer his description of Brandon again and watched as the car drove on, silently cursing as he glanced back up to the castle and saw Orla gazing down from one of the windows before edging back into the shadows.
Luke busied himself with his work after that, glad of the distraction. He was so mad at the upset this had all caused Orla and didn’t blame her for hiding out in her room, although he was concerned when she didn’t surface for lunch.
‘Orla?’ He knocked gently on her door. ‘Come and eat something.’
‘I’m not hungry.’
‘You should still eat.’
She didn’t reply.
Luke worked on through the afternoon, ope
ning one of the windows in the great chamber to let the warm summer air help dry the lime plaster. And that’s when he heard it. He didn’t really register what it was at first because it was such a slight noise, but it gradually became louder and caught his attention because it simply wasn’t going away. He looked out of the window, half expecting to see a swarm of angry bees, but it wasn’t bees; it wasn’t anything belonging to the natural world. It was a drone.
Luke had never seen one in real life before, but there was no mistaking what it was. It looked like something out of a science-fiction film as it hovered around the castle windows, its evil buzz announcing its presence.
Luke cursed. He was cursing a lot that day. Now, as he looked out of the window to the castle grounds, he felt full of rage. It didn’t take him long to spot the guy. He was half hiding in the bushes, but he was definitely holding the control to the drone, which, Luke guessed, would be recording footage.
‘Luke?’
Luke turned around as Orla entered the great chamber.
‘Orla – go back to your room.’
‘What’s that noise?’
He pursed his lips, hating that he had to tell her. ‘It’s a drone.’
‘What?’
‘I’m calling the police again.’
‘Is it him?’
‘I think it must be.’
Orla cried and her hand flew to her mouth.
‘It’s all right – I’ll let the police know. We just have to remain calm, okay? Orla? You okay?’
She gave a nod and left the room.
Luke wasted no time. He was on the phone straight away to the police. He spoke to somebody who assured them that an officer would be sent out to them immediately and that he wasn’t to do anything to alert Brandon. That way, he wouldn’t get spooked and they’d have a better chance of catching him this time.
Luke hung up the phone. The sound of the drone could still be heard as it flew around the castle like an angry hornet, and a part of Luke wanted to go outside right there and then and deal with Brandon himself, but he knew that would be foolish and misguided. Instead, he closed the window and took a deep breath as he waited for the police to arrive.
It took a full half an hour for the car to pull up outside the gates of the castle. Luke watched from the window of the great chamber. Ever since the night of the train crash, the sight of a police car made him feel uneasy, but this wasn’t bringing bad news. With any luck, it was delivering good news for Orla.
The only trouble was, the sound of the drone had stopped about ten minutes before the police car had arrived and Luke hadn’t seen any evidence of Brandon since then. Had he known he’d pushed his luck and left before he knew they could alert anybody? Luke waited, watching the policeman as he searched the grounds and glad that Orla was out of the way from the rather distressing scene.
A few minutes later, the bell rang at the front door.
‘I’ll get it, Orla,’ Luke called through, even though it was obvious she had no intention of answering it.
‘Mr Hansard?’ the young officer said.
‘Yes.’
‘You’re the one who made the call?’
‘I am.’
‘I’m afraid there’s no sign of anybody in the grounds.’
‘I thought you were going to say that. Have you checked the lane? And the footpath? He can’t have gone far.’
‘I’ll certainly take a look before I leave, but I’m afraid there isn’t much more I can do unless he’s actually in the grounds.’
Luke sighed in frustration. ‘He’s causing a lot of stress.’
‘Yes, I’m sorry to hear that.’
‘Is there nothing else you can do?’
‘Not unless we can apprehend him here.’
Luke grimaced.
‘Let us know if he comes back,’ the officer said, nodding his head before leaving.
Luke closed the door, angry that he had to break this news to Orla.
He found her in the china room, where she was sitting on a little wooden chair, staring at the floor.
‘I’m afraid the police couldn’t find him,’ he said without preamble.
‘Couldn’t find him?’
‘But he’s gone. He’s not out there now.’
‘He won’t have gone,’ Orla whispered, still looking down at the floor.
‘But we know what to do if we see him anywhere near the castle again, okay? Anyway, I don’t think he’ll come back.’
She raised her eyes to his and he could see the deep fear within them. ‘What makes you think that?’
‘He’ll know he’s pushed his luck, and surely he’ll have seen the police car if he’s still hanging around.’ Luke flinched inwardly. He shouldn’t have made any reference to the possibility that Brandon was still hanging around. ‘I’m sure he’s gone. He’s violated his restraining order and he’s invaded your privacy with that drone. Now, I don’t know much about law, but I’m guessing the police won’t look too favourably on that, and he’s sure to know that.’
‘I thought I was safe here.’
‘You are!’
She shook her head. ‘He still found me. I thought this place would protect me.’
‘But it did! He didn’t get in, did he?’
Orla didn’t look at all comforted by this.
‘Listen – it’s been a trying day and you’re tired. Let me make you something to eat, okay? Just try and relax and have an early night.’ He moved forward an inch and reached out a hand to squeeze her shoulder and was relieved when she nodded.
Chapter 19
Something felt wrong that night. Orla could just sense it. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was somehow being watched, which was crazy, really, because she was sleeping – or trying to sleep – behind walls that were at least eight feet thick. She couldn’t hear any drones, either, so she put it down to paranoia again. But the fact that Brandon had been there – both in the village and in the castle grounds – shook her. Luke was probably right and Brandon had most likely left Lorford hours ago, but what if he hadn’t? What if he was still out there now?
Orla turned over in bed and looked at the alarm clock. It was five thirty and already beginning to get light. Orla welcomed it. The darkness always made her anxiety worse.
She got out of bed, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to sleep any more and hating the idea of lying there worrying. If she got up, she could do something useful, even if that was only photographing teacups. It would occupy her overactive imagination and she might even create something beautiful, thus turning a negative into a positive. Yes, she thought, as she quickly dressed in a skirt and T-shirt, she’d do that.
It was easy for time to pass when she was photographing and, although Orla didn’t completely forget about the fear she’d felt in the night, her pretty china collection at least helped to alleviate those fears.
A couple of hours slipped by and Orla went through to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. One Ear looked up from his basket.
‘You want outside?’ she asked him, and he got up, stretching his long front legs and yawning. ‘Come on, then.’
Orla took him down to the back door and unlocked it. The morning air was cooler than she’d thought and her limbs felt suddenly chilled. If she remembered rightly, she’d left a jumper in the great chamber. She looked at where One Ear was sniffing and, not wanting to rush him, she returned inside for her jumper. It always amazed her how cold a summer morning could be, only for the mists to lift and the sun to rise and the day to be a scorcher later on. It was one of the magical things about summer, she was thinking, as she found her jumper and pulled it on.
And that’s when she became aware that something wasn’t quite right. There was a strange sort of tension in the air and the faintest scent of something she didn’t recognise. It smelled like – what was it? Something fresh and spicy. Orla inhaled, looking around the room as if she might spot something alien there. Perhaps Luke had picked some flowers from the garden she didn’t
recognise the scent of. She couldn’t see any.
Something told her it wasn’t flowers. Her skin had broken out in gooseflesh.
She wasn’t alone, was she?
Some kind of primitive instinct told her that he was there – right with her – in the castle. She’d only left the door open for the briefest time and One Ear was patrolling the gardens. But that hadn’t made any difference. He’d found his way inside, hadn’t he?
Knowing he was there before turning around to face the door once more, Orla could feel her heart begin to race.
‘I had to see you,’ he said.
Her mouth went dry.
‘Orla? Look at me! Please look at me! I’ve missed you so much.’
Slowly, very slowly, she turned around to face him.
‘Why do you hide away like this when you’re still so beautiful?’ he asked, moving forward an inch.
Orla backed away, noticing that his hair looked unwashed and his clothes looked dirty, as if he’d been roughing it. Roughing it in her garden, she thought. She’d been right to be paranoid; there really had been someone watching her home all night, hadn’t there? And when she’d left the door open for One Ear, he’d taken his chance to invade her privacy, leaving One Ear out in the garden and her trapped inside with him.
‘I didn’t know what to do, Orla. There were rumours of you leaving London and I tried to find you.’
His thin face was pale and his eyes had a brightness to them which Orla found disturbing. Perhaps because they were fixed on her so resolutely. She thought of screaming to Luke for help, but she couldn’t utter a single sound at that moment. Instead, she watched as he moved towards her in some dreadful kind of slow-motion effect.
‘How are you? You look well. I mean, considering what happened to you. That was horrible, Orla.’
She flinched at the way he used her name so familiarly – as if they were friends and he had a right to be there in the middle of her home.
‘Don’t!’ she said at last, finding her voice, even though it was more of a squeak.
The Beauty of Broken Things Page 22