The Beauty of Broken Things

by Victoria Connelly

‘I’d say it is my business when my daughter’s locked herself in her bedroom!’

  ‘Did she tell you what’s happened?’ Luke asked. ‘Did she tell you about Brandon and the drone and how he somehow managed to get inside the castle? And how we had to call the police and have him taken away?’

  Bernadette didn’t seem interested.

  ‘I don’t think you’re good for her. I think it’s best if you leave. I’ll take things from here.’

  Luke felt as if he’d been flattened. He’d expected a few uncomfortable days while Orla’s mother was here. He’d envisaged them carefully moving around each other. But he hadn’t expected this.

  ‘Is that what Orla wants?’ Luke asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘She said that?’

  ‘I’m saying that.’

  Luke stood his ground for a moment, trying to weigh up his options, but they seemed very limited. This woman was not going to make his stay a pleasant experience and, as much as he didn’t want to leave Orla, he didn’t want to add to her stress either.

  ‘Orla has my number,’ Luke told Bernadette. ‘Tell her to call me if she needs anything.’

  ‘She doesn’t need you.’

  He stared at her in disbelief. Did she really know what was best for her daughter? He hadn’t heard Orla mention her mother before, but hers was the number Orla had given him, and who was he to question that now?

  So he backed down.

  ‘Right. I’ll go. If that’s what Orla wants.’

  Bernadette didn’t say anything, and he was glad of that. She’d said more than enough in the brief time she’d been there. The Kendrick women seemed very good at throwing men out, he couldn’t help thinking. Helen had never done such a thing. She’d thrown a fair few of his old bachelor rock-band T-shirts out, but she’d never thrown him out.

  Luke packed his things away, loading them all into his van, and then came into the great hall, where Bernadette was sitting on the Knole sofa, her arms crossed against her chest, waiting for him to leave. As if he knew what was happening, One Ear crossed the room and shoved his wet nose into Luke’s hand.

  ‘It’s okay, boy.’

  The dog whined, telling him that it wasn’t okay at all.

  ‘We’ve had some good walks, haven’t we?’

  One Ear looked up at him, cocking his head to one side as if trying to understand the strange situation.

  Luke turned to face Bernadette. ‘Right. Well, I’ll be off.’ He hesitated for a moment. ‘Bernie.’

  Bernadette’s whole body seemed to bristle at his impudence. It was a cheap jibe, but he hadn’t been able to resist.

  Luke didn’t leave Lorford straight away. Instead, he drove down to the quay and sat on a bench for a few minutes, watching as the sun began to set over the estuary and smiling at the comic antics of a little bird on the shore that he had no hope of ever identifying. The truth was, for all the beauty before him, he couldn’t help feeling miserable. He felt like he had failed Orla and, in failing her, he’d also failed Helen. He hadn’t helped at all, had he? He’d done nothing but cause pain and confusion, and the result was that Orla was locked away in isolation even greater than when he’d first arrived at the castle.

  He’d also lost a friend. Because they had been friends, hadn’t they? They’d slowly learned to trust each other and there had been some fun times together, but he wouldn’t allow himself to take comfort in those now because it had all ended so badly. It was always the end that counted.

  Getting up from the bench, he walked the short distance to Oyster Cottage, although he doubted that even seeing Bill and Margy could make him feel any better. If anything, it was bound to make him feel worse because he knew he was going to have to say goodbye to them in the worst of circumstances.

  It was Margy who answered the door.

  ‘Hello, Luke. This is a nice surprise. Come in.’

  ‘How are you?’

  ‘Can’t complain. Just finishing off this cardigan.’ She held up her latest knitting project for his inspection.

  ‘That’s lovely,’ Luke said, taking in the soft blue and silvery cream creation, which reminded him of the sea. ‘Is Bill around?’

  ‘In the garden with Bosun, enjoying the sunshine.’ Margy led him through. ‘Bill – you’ve got a visitor.’

  Luke walked outside to where Bill was cutting a big bunch of sweet peas. He was half dreading seeing his friend, but he knew that he couldn’t leave Lorford without saying goodbye. He watched for a moment as Bill inhaled the sweet peas he’d cut.

  ‘Keeps ’em coming if you cut them regularly,’ he told Luke.

  Luke inhaled their heady fragrance before Bill handed them to Margy.

  ‘Lovely! I’ll pop them in a vase,’ she said, leaving them to it.

  ‘Everything okay at the castle?’ Bill asked as he bent to pat Bosun’s sleepy, sun-warmed head.

  ‘Well, in a manner of speaking,’ Luke said, then shrugged. ‘I’ve come to say goodbye.’

  ‘You what?’ Bill looked shocked.

  ‘Orla’s mother’s just thrown me out.’

  ‘Orla’s mother’s here?’

  Luke filled Bill in on what had been going on since Orla had shut herself in her room.

  ‘But she can’t throw you out. You’ve been a good friend to Orla.’

  ‘Not according to her mother. I think she’s holding me responsible for Orla locking herself away like that and – well – she’s probably right.’

  ‘But that’s nonsense!’

  ‘It’s okay, Bill,’ Luke assured him. ‘That castle isn’t big enough for the two of us. The only thing that pains me is that I didn’t get to say goodbye to Orla. Will you do that for me? And tell her I’m sorry?’

  Bill looked confused. ‘You don’t need to say you’re sorry, do you?’

  ‘I feel I should,’ Luke said. ‘You will tell her, won’t you?’

  ‘If it’s what you want, then of course I will, son,’ Bill promised him, with a gentle clap on his shoulder. ‘But maybe I’ll wait until her mother’s left first.’

  Luke gave a tiny smile and then sighed. ‘I’m going to miss this place.’

  ‘This place is going to miss you.’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘It’s funny. When I came here I didn’t have any plans to stay, but now it’s hard to imagine going home. This feels . . .’ He paused, wondering what he’d been going to say. Was it crazy to think of Lorford as home when he’d only been there for such a short time? ‘This is a good place,’ he finished.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Bill agreed.

  Luke looked around the garden in the late evening light, marvelling at the little paradise Bill had made there.

  ‘Can I visit?’

  Bill looked stunned by the question. ‘You’d better!’ he said.

  Luke laughed in relief. ‘Even if I’m not welcome up at the castle, I’d like to come back.’

  ‘Listen,’ Bill said. ‘Just give Orla this time with her mother. She won’t be there for ever, will she? And I’m sure Orla will want to see you again.’

  ‘I’m not so sure,’ Luke admitted. ‘I seem to have caused nothing but trouble since I arrived.’

  ‘Are you kidding? You’ve been the making of her! You’ve brought that poor girl out of her shell and helped her find a way into the community.’

  Luke dared to smile. ‘Really? You think so?’

  ‘You know so,’ Bill told him.

  ‘But it’s right I should go home,’ he said. ‘It’s time.’

  Bill nodded. ‘Well, you take care of yourself, son.’

  ‘And you. I won’t forget your kindness.’

  After a heartfelt goodbye, Luke drove out of Lorford, passing through the square, glancing at the village shop and taking one last look at the towering castle. He followed the road inland, through the great woods and heathland where he had walked with Orla and One Ear. His new friends. How he was going to miss them. They’d so quickly become an imp
ortant part of his life and he knew he was going to struggle without them for a while.

  As Luke settled in for the three-hour journey, he tried not to think about what lay ahead – of the empty house that would greet him, and his new life as a widower. God, what a hateful word that was. He hadn’t been able to say it to Bernadette or to admit to his new status. He still felt married somehow.

  Sitting alone in his van felt strange too. He was so used to Orla and One Ear accompanying him now. He smiled as he thought of their many days out and how, after Orla’s initial terror, they’d fallen into a happy routine, taking little jaunts and exploring the countryside together. He was going to miss that. The beach too. He’d have to make sure he made time to visit the coast more often in his home county. If he’d learned anything over the past few months, it was making the very most of time.

  As he neared his village, Luke began to feel anxious. Whoever would have thought that coming home would be such a dreadful experience? Luke never had. But, pulling into the driveway alongside Helen’s little red car, he felt an emptiness opening up inside him that had been filled with the people of Lorford for the last couple of months.

  He sat in the van for a few minutes, listening to the engine cooling down after the long journey, but he knew he couldn’t sit in there for ever. He opened his door and hopped out with what seemed like a Herculean effort, reaching for his keys and unlocking the front door. As he pushed it open, there was some resistance. He peered round the door, switched on the light and sank inwardly at the pile of post that greeted him. There were the usual bills and junk mail, but he could see a fair few handwritten envelopes in there too. He shook his head. Still, the sickly sympathy cards were arriving. Would it never end? He picked up a pile of them and threw them unopened onto the dining-room table. He couldn’t face them now. Maybe he never would.

  He brought his things in from his van and dropped them down in the hallway, then went through to the sitting room, where everything was just as he’d left it before his trip to Suffolk – the cushions were unplumped, the table undusted and the newspapers unsorted. Helen would not have been impressed and Luke swallowed now as the thought registered.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said, imagining her spirit hovering near. He promised to tackle it all tomorrow. Tomorrow, he thought, when he had to go on living.

  Chapter 21

  Orla’s bedroom curtains were thick, but they weren’t thick enough to completely stop the sun’s fierce progress that morning and she stirred in bed, blinking her eyes open and watching as her room turned a gentle amber colour. How long had she been asleep? It felt like days. She’d certainly been in her room for days, she was sure of that. But today, she felt different. It was as if the weight of fear was slowly lifting from her. Perhaps it had something to do with her mother being there. Bernadette had been with her throughout those awful dark days after the acid attack. Orla knew she wouldn’t have been able to cope without her. She would have gone under completely, sinking down deep into herself.

  She shook her thoughts away. She didn’t want to go back there, especially after the last few days she’d had. The arrival of Brandon in Lorford had dragged her back to that dark place within herself which would never wholly heal and she’d been reminded of just how fragile the human mind was. But she was feeling a little stronger today and, after getting washed and dressed, went in search of her mother and Luke.

  One Ear was the first to greet her and she immediately felt guilty at having abandoned her dear companion for so long.

  ‘Oh, my special boy!’ she cried as he did a series of little jumps around her. When she’d first brought him home from the rescue centre, he’d jumped up at her and had promptly knocked her onto her back, so she’d had to train him to control his enthusiasm just a little.

  The noise they were making brought Bernadette out from the kitchen.

  ‘You’re up!’ she said, a smile on her face. ‘How are you feeling? Can I get you some breakfast?’

  ‘I’d love some, thank you. I’m absolutely starving.’

  ‘Let me get that for you. Why don’t you sit down?’

  ‘I’d rather stand,’ Orla said. ‘I feel it’s been a while since I’ve been upright!’ She followed her mother through to the kitchen and One Ear followed her.

  ‘Has One Ear had his walk yet?’

  ‘He’s been out in the garden,’ Bernadette told her.

  ‘Has Luke been walking him?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘No?’ Orla looked around, expecting to see Luke appear at any moment. ‘Where is he? He’s been working quietly, hasn’t he? I hope I haven’t made things tricky for him.’

  Her mother took a moment before answering.

  ‘Luke’s gone, darling.’

  ‘Gone? Where?’

  ‘Home.’

  Orla frowned. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I thought that was for the best.’ Bernadette filled the kettle with fresh water.

  ‘Wait – you told him to go?’

  Bernadette sighed. ‘Don’t make a scene out of it, Orla.’

  ‘What did you do?’

  ‘I simply told him he wasn’t needed.’

  ‘How could you do that?’

  ‘How could I not? Orla, darling! I arrive to find a strange man in your home and you locked away in your bedroom!’

  ‘But that had nothing to do with Luke!’

  ‘Didn’t it?’

  ‘No!’ Orla cried. ‘Luke was my friend.’

  ‘Well, he wasn’t mine, and I didn’t like the way he was just hanging around here.’

  ‘But he wasn’t just hanging around. He’s been working on the castle. He’s been doing vital jobs. He’s the one who uncovered the Wild Man!’

  ‘Exactly my point! If it hadn’t been for him, this whole episode with your stalker would never have happened.’

  ‘But that wasn’t Luke’s fault. Oh, God! I’d better call him and sort all this out. Goodness only knows what he thinks of me.’

  Orla left the kitchen and searched the great hall for her phone. She couldn’t remember where she’d last used it.

  ‘Leave it, darling. Please!’ Bernadette called after her, coming into the room a moment later.

  ‘I can’t. He’s been good to me, Mum. I can’t not call him and explain. What did you do, anyway? Just throw him out?’

  ‘It wasn’t like that.’

  ‘No? Are you sure?’

  Orla spotted her phone on the windowsill and picked it up.

  ‘Don’t!’ Bernadette was beside her now, her hand flying out to take the phone from her.

  ‘Mum!’

  ‘Please, darling! Let me have a little time with my daughter. Alone.’

  They stared at one another. Orla could feel her heart hammering at the intensity of the moment. Part of her was furious with her mother for what she’d done to Luke, but the expression on her face was more than she could bear.

  ‘Let me text him at least,’ Orla said.

  Her mother shook her head and, with one slow, purposeful move, she took the phone from Orla’s hand.

  ‘Not yet.’

  Orla was instantly transported back to when she was in recovery, when she was at her weakest, her most helpless, and when her mother had done everything for her. She’d trusted her. She’d had to trust her. And she did so again now, letting her take her phone from her.

  ‘Okay,’ she said in a small voice.

  ‘Good,’ her mother said. ‘Now, I’m going to make you breakfast.’

  August trumpeted its arrival with a heatwave. Emerald lawns crisped to brown, field fires broke out and the ice cream aisles in the supermarkets were wiped out. Slowly, Orla was getting back to her old routine. Or rather her new old routine – the one she’d happily fallen into since Luke had encouraged her to get out more. Not only did she walk to the beach these days, but she walked across fields and little pockets of woods that surrounded Lorford which she’d never walked to before. She walked right through the market square, passin
g all the red-brick cottages with their pretty gardens. She sat by the quay, watching the tourist boats coming and going and the play of light across the estuary. She even ventured into the village shop, filling a basket with local produce. Orla Kendrick was now a familiar figure in the village.

  Curiously, her mother, who had now been at the castle for a whole two weeks, didn’t look happy with this new Orla.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Bernadette would ask her every time Orla made for the door.

  ‘Just out.’

  ‘Where out?’

  ‘For a walk. To the beach, probably, but maybe across the fields. Would you like to come?’

  Her mother never did. ‘I’ll just tidy up around here.’

  ‘It’s a really lovely day,’ Orla would say. But her mother never joined her. It was a strange business and Orla was thinking about it as she arrived back from a walk around the village with One Ear. Like her, the dog was making lots of new friends and Orla couldn’t imagine not being a part of the village. She knew so many people and had found that the dog-walking community was particularly friendly.

  ‘Ah, there you are,’ Bernadette said as Orla entered the kitchen to give One Ear his breakfast. ‘I’ve been worrying about you.’

  ‘I told you where I was going,’ Orla said. ‘You knew I wouldn’t be long.’

  ‘Where did you go?’

  ‘Just down to the quay. You should have come with us. It looked so beautiful today.’

  Her mother approached her. ‘You’re wearing sunscreen, aren’t you?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘You must look after your skin.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Let me look at you.’

  ‘Mum, my skin is fine.’

  ‘Are you still using all the special creams?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  Her mother sighed. ‘I don’t like you going out.’

  ‘You could have come with us. I only went through the village. Everyone’s so friendly. Luke helped me to realise that.’

  Orla saw her mother flinch at the mention of his name.

  ‘You shouldn’t take any more risks than you have to.’

  ‘I know, and I don’t. Why do you think I didn’t go anywhere other than the beach for two years?’ Orla sighed. How could her mother not understand that she was doing her very best to recover and lead a normal life, even after the recent upset with Brandon?