He thinks for a moment. ‘How are you going to unload your shopping tomorrow?’
‘I have a crutch now. I’ll be okay.’
‘I tell you what, I’ll go and get you some chips, and while I’m out, I’ll get you bread and milk and some bits and bobs from the corner shop.’
‘You don’t have to do that.’
‘I know I don’t, but I want to.’ He picks up his keys from the side.
‘Are you going to eat with me?’
His eyes dart to the side as though he’s trying to decide what the correct response would be. ‘Yes?’ he ventures.
‘Good.’ I smile and hand him a twenty-pound note from my purse. ‘Get whatever you want. My treat. As a thank-you for rescuing me from the bath.’
He looks at the twenty-pound note for a second, and I see him weighing up whether he should take it or not before he plucks it from my fingers and folds it into the back pocket of his jeans. ‘Okay, I’ll be back shortly.’ He takes my cup of tea to the coffee table, then points at the sofa. ‘Sit down and put your ankle up.’
Chapter 5
I watch him go out to the pick-up truck and drive off before using the crutch to get to my bedroom and change into my pyjamas. I’m astounded by his kindness. I don’t think I’ve met anyone like him before. Especially as he’s a near stranger.
Aiden returns about half an hour later, with a shopping bag full of supplies and chips for us both. I watch from the sofa as he gets plates down from the cupboard and opens drawers looking for cutlery. ‘What have you been doing today?’ he asks as he carries the plates over and sets them down on the coffee table.
‘I worked from home. What have you been doing?’
‘Just going through trail cam footage and looking for signs that the otters are out.’
‘And are they?’
‘Nope.’
‘So it’s just a waiting game?’
‘Yep.’
‘Sounds like it can get pretty boring.’
‘It can do, but it’s also wonderful when you do get some footage so it’s well worth the wait. I’ve got a friend who’s setting up a sensory forest for children with special needs and he wants me to help, so I might go and help him for a couple of days. It’s only local. You might be interested in that for your paper, actually.’
‘Oh yes, that sounds good.’
‘I’ll let you know when I’m going. You can come along.’ He bends to eat the chip on the end of his fork. ‘How did your boss react when you told him what happened to your ankle?’
I sigh, still worried that Phil’s not going to let me do any more solo interviews. ‘He said I shouldn’t have gone down to meet you on my own. Like you were the big bad wolf or something.’
‘Well, just about everyone you know has told you the same thing now, so … you know.’ He shrugs. ‘At least you know not to do that in future.’
‘Hmm, yeah, well I’m worried he’s going to insist I accompany him everywhere for another six months now. This was my chance to show him I could manage on my own, and I blew it.’
‘Oh no, don’t say that.’
‘It’s true though, I have,’ I say gloomily. ‘I wish I hadn’t told him what really happened and just made something up instead.’
‘It’s always best to be truthful. I can phone him and tell him you did a fine job of interviewing me, if you want?’
I laugh. ‘No, it’s alright. I sent him the article and he was happy with it. He’s just worried about my safety now.’
Aiden smiles. ‘Do you like working on the newspaper?’
‘Yes, I love it. It’s what I’ve always wanted to do. Well, not work on the Hawksley Gazette, specifically. The aim is to get one of the bigger, national papers one day, but this is a great start.’
‘So, you’re how old?’
‘Twenty-two. This is my first job after graduating. I did a journalism course and then got taken on by the Gazette.’
‘Do you not find all the crime and stuff depressing?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I flicked through Ivy’s paper the other day and it was full of bad stuff happening, people getting arrested for drug dealing and robberies. There was a story about a road closure because of a fatal car crash and then a stabbing and a factory closure. Even the lighter stories were about the hospital parking prices going up and a beloved oak tree being cut down in the park.’
‘Oh, I forgot about the tree in the park.’ I scribble a note on the pad. ‘I need to link that to our eco-blog section of the website.’
Aiden shrugs. ‘It’s only a small town. How can there be so much bad shit happening in such a small town? I don’t get it.’
‘There’s always bad shit happening. Where there’s people, there’s shit. I know what you mean though. I spent last Monday compiling a list of local people who’d been convicted in court recently. I’m sure there are more good news stories out there, it’s just that readers seem to want to read the bad stuff.’
‘Really? Now that’s depressing. See you covered the tree being chopped down, but not the story about the three thousand trees that are being planted on the old landfill site two miles away. All the bad stories fuel people’s paranoia and make them want to isolate themselves.’
‘Yeah, maybe you’re right.’ I sigh, feeling a bit despondent. ‘But it’s important that people know what’s going on on their doorstep. So what about you, then. Did you always want to be a nature photographer? How did you get into it?’
He shrugs and chews on another chip. ‘Where I grew up in County Wicklow, it was very green and rural. I used to spend hours bird-watching with my father, out and about among the mountains so it grew from that, really. I suppose I never set out to be a photographer, it was just a natural progression. I studied ecology and conservation at university and my student job was in a wildlife park. Just in the gift shop – nothing to do with the animals, really, but I started going out and photographing them during my breaks and it grew from there. I entered some competitions, sent my photos off to magazines, made myself a website, Instagram and Facebook page, and went travelling with my camera.’
‘Where did you go first?’
‘I travelled around Europe at first. I had no money so I got jobs in bars and restaurants to pay my way. Stayed in the cheapest accommodation possible and just took photos of the local wildlife when I could. I started in France then worked my way down to Spain. Nothing happened for a while and my parents weren’t happy. Then I found a colony of wolves and started photographing them and that was when I started to make a bit of money and make a name for myself. Since then, I’ve been all over the world. There are still places I want to see, and things I want to photograph, so it’s not like I’m saying I’ve done it all already. But I’ve been to some amazing places and seen some wonderful things and I’m still as excited about it as the first time I picked up a camera.’
‘Wow, that’s amazing. What’s been the highlight of your career so far?’
‘Finding the wolf colony, because it was a complete accident. I was out walking, photographing the landscape, and suddenly there was just this wolf. Luck was on my side and I was positioned just right so she couldn’t see or smell me. Here, give me your laptop and I’ll show you. I am so in love with wolves it’s unreal. Honestly, they are the most captivating animal. Just the expression in their eyes and the way they interact with each other. I could have lived there, watching them, forever.’
Pushing the plate aside, he takes my laptop and brings up the web browser. He types in his web address and brings up a gallery of breathtaking photographs. ‘Here,’ he says, turning the screen to face me. There is a photo of a wolf with bright yellow eyes against a backdrop of a sapphire sky. ‘This is the alpha male of the pack. I called him Hercules. And this one here,’ he says, scrolling through and bringing up a photograph of a wolf cub licking its mother’s chin, ‘is the image I was nominated for an award for. But I didn’t win, so it’s bollocks. And here …’ He gets up and m
oves around to sit on the floor in front of me. ‘Here is the pack on the move, down the mountain.’
He takes me through the rest of his photographs. There are stunning shots of birds, lynx, bears, beavers and deer. There are landscape shots too, and photos of him on location, sitting outside his tent on a snowy mountainside, wrapped up against the cold, and another of him next to a river, tinged green by the forest canopy above his head. I’m fascinated and enthralled. He talks at length about all the different places he’s stayed and the animals he’s seen. The friends he’s made along the way. I don’t have to prompt him to tell me anything.
‘It’s so wonderful to see your passion for nature,’ I say, when he comes to the end of the photographs on his website. ‘It’s clear that that’s what drives you to do this work.’
‘Of course, and I want to inspire that passion in other people too. More than that, I want to inspire compassion for these animals and the planet itself. I want to show people how magnificent it is and educate them on why it deserves our protection.’ He flicks through more of the photographs. ‘It’s so amazing. I want to take everyone on a journey, educating them on what’s out there. People are so wrapped up in their own lives, their own worlds. So many people living in cities. I could never live in say, London, for instance. I don’t know how people can breathe.’
‘I want to live in London,’ I say. ‘One day, anyway.’
‘You do? Why?’
‘It’s such a wonderful place. So vibrant and exciting. Plus, that’s where I’d need to be to get a job on one of the big nationals.’
‘More doom and gloom?’
‘Probably,’ I admit. ‘But on a bigger scale. I don’t want to be stuck here in Hawksley for the rest of my life.’
‘You don’t have to be stuck anywhere, Orla. The world is your oyster, as they say.’
‘Yes, if you’re prepared to live in a tent! Honestly, I don’t know how you do it.’
Aiden sighs and clicks off his website. ‘Yeah, it’s not for everyone.’
‘Have you ever had your own flat or house or anything?’
‘No.’
‘Do you think you ever will?’
He’s silent for a moment. ‘I don’t know. Maybe. I suppose there may come a time when I can’t or don’t want to live like this anymore, but for now I like it.’
‘Where do you store all your equipment though? Surely you must have hundreds of pounds worth of photography equipment. Who’s going to insure you if you keep it in a tent? And what about the camping equipment for different climates. You had at least four different tents in those photographs. Do you just throw them away?’
‘Sometimes, if they get damaged in storms or what have you. Otherwise, I store them at my parents’ house.’
‘Your poor parents.’
‘Yeah, I leave a lot of my stuff with them, to be honest. But they’re very good about it.’
‘Do you go and see them a lot?’
‘Not a lot, I suppose, but when I can. At least three or four times a year, and I go home for Christmas.’ He looks towards the window, and I sense he’s about to leave. It’s gone nine o’clock and the daylight is leaching from the sky. ‘I suppose I’d better go,’ he says. ‘It’ll be too dark to find my tent if I leave it too late. Besides, you need to rest.’
‘Okay.’ I feel disappointed. I could carry on listening to Aiden all night. ‘Thanks for showing me your website and telling me about yourself. It’s been fascinating.’
He laughs. ‘I hope I haven’t bored you.’
‘Of course, you haven’t. And thank you for all your help tonight, and for the crutch. It’s officially the best present I’ve ever had.’
‘Steady on now.’ He laughs and gets to his feet. ‘Well, I’ll be seeing you, Orla. Take care of yourself.’
‘You too. Good luck finding your way back to your tent.’
Chapter 6
The crutch changes everything. It restores my independence and I feel like I can move again, however clumsily. My ankle is still swollen and painful, but I no longer feel like I’m stranded on the sofa or my bed. I place strategic chairs in the kitchen and bathroom so I don’t have to stand while making drinks or brushing my teeth, and I even manage to hobble down to the corner shop where I replenish my stocks of milk and bread. I work at home for another day and then return to working in the office, more because I’m still trying to prove I’m good enough for the job, rather than feeling fully fit.
‘Alright, hon,’ Phil says as I move slowly past him towards my desk. ‘Good to have you back.’
‘Hi, Phil.’ I smile at him. ‘Thank you.’
He holds out his mug. ‘Milk and two sugars, please.’
‘At least let me get my coat off!’ I say, feeling dismayed.
‘Ha, I’m only joking! In your own time, doll. No hurry. How did you get here, anyway?’
‘Taxi.’ I struggle to get my coat off and hang it over the back of my chair, then sit down to turn on my computer. I’m knackered already and I haven’t even done any work yet.
‘You’re still struggling with that ankle, then?’ He peers at my bandaged ankle with a frown. I can’t get my shoe on over the bandage, so I’ve covered it with a big fluffy sock. Unfortunately, the only fluffy socks I own are covered in pandas, so I’m not looking particularly professional today.
‘Yes, it’s really sore.’
‘Give it a few more days and I’m sure you’ll be back to normal. Here, I’ll make you a cup of tea this time, to say welcome back.’
‘Oh, I’d love one. Thanks, Phil.’ I pick up my unicorn mug and hold it out to him.
‘No problem, hon.’ He winks as he ambles away in the direction of the office kitchen.
My computer tells me the system is updating, so I sit and wait while the fan makes alarmingly loud whirring and grinding noises. I water the spider plant that sits on my desk and rearrange my sticky notes around my monitor. The office is open-plan and I hear snatches of people’s phone conversations and the tippy-tap of fingers on keyboards.
‘So tell me about this Aiden fella then,’ Phil says, arriving back at my desk and placing my mug of tea down next to me. ‘You said he was good to you?’
‘Yeah, he was brilliant. He brought this crutch round and everything.’
‘Oh, so you’re still in touch with him, are you?’
‘Yes. I haven’t seen him for a couple of days though.’ For some reason I can’t quite fathom, I feel disappointed about this fact. ‘He said his friend is setting up a sensory forest near here, actually, and wondered if we’d be interested in covering it in the paper. I thought it might be of interest?’
‘Sounds alright to me. When?’
‘I don’t know yet. I’ll find out.’
‘Good stuff. I was going to send you out on a story today, but I don’t think you’re up to it, are you?’
I start to insist that I am, but Phil holds his hand up to stop me. ‘No, you’re really not, and there’s enough work to be getting on with in the office anyway. Someone else can go. It’s nothing big so don’t worry. It’s just a broken window in a coffee shop. Your otter story was good, by the way. Well done.’
‘Thank you!’ I beam before realising what he said about the coffee shop. ‘Wait, which coffee shop?’
‘The one with the stupid name. Frothy Coffee or something crap.’
‘Oh God, that’s my favourite one! How bad’s the damage?’
‘Dunno. Just broken glass, I think. Nothing much.’
‘Why would they target that place?’ I ask, feeling stricken. What I want to say is, ‘There’s a really handsome man that works behind the counter in the mornings and I really wouldn’t mind going to interview him for the paper.’ Stupid ankle!
Phil chuckles. ‘Who knows why these thugs do the things they do. It’s usually just mindless vandalism. They probably didn’t even think about what they were doing.’ He looks at me and frowns. ‘Hold on! Is that where your sexy coffee man works? Ha ha! What a sham
e you can’t interview him because of your ankle.’
‘It’s only down the high street. I’m sure I can make it on my crutch. I’m getting good now. Please, Phil. Pleeeease!’
Phil frowns down at my fat fluffy foot. ‘You sure you want to see him wearing penguin socks?’
‘They’re pandas. And why not?’ I stick my leg out and smile, careful not to bang it on anything.
‘I really don’t think you should. In fact, what am I saying? Definitely not! No, Orla. No.’
‘Oh! But …’
‘No!’ Phil’s already walking away, back to his desk. ‘I’m doing you a favour, anyway. You’re not looking your best, hon. I’ve got to be honest.’
‘Hey! What do you mean?’
‘I’m not loving those trousers, doll,’ he laughs, deep and rumbling. ‘I need my sunglasses to look at you.’
‘Thanks!’ Cheeky sod. These palazzo pants were the only ones I could get over my ankle without causing me pain. So what if they’re bright pink and flowery? They’re summery and felt appropriate when I saw the blue sky this morning. The fact that that blue sky is now rapidly filling with grey cloud is beside the point. I want to say something about his stripy shirt but can’t think of anything mean enough. Or anything that won’t get me sacked, anyway. Defeated, I slump in my seat. Today is officially the worst day ever, and it’s not even nine o’clock in the morning yet.
But wait, I didn’t really want to interview Sexy Coffee Guy anyway. I’d much rather keep him a mystery stranger who’s just pretty to look at. It’s not like I’m looking for a date with him. My stomach turns over at the thought. Oh no, no, no. I’m far too busy for such nonsense. Feeling better, I sip my tea and get on with my work.
‘Bit of a change of plan, Orla,’ Phil says, arriving back at my desk ten minutes later. He’s red in the face and out of breath from walking across the office.
‘What’s that?’ I look up with some concern. Phil is terribly overweight and unfit, and I briefly consider talking to him about seeing a doctor. He shouldn’t be that red in the face. Maybe he should have his blood pressure checked.
The Five-Year Plan: The utterly heart-warming and feel good rom com of 2020 Page 7