At First Sight by Hannah Sunderland (best inspirational books txt) 📗

slightly red from his earlier assault by Kenna. ‘Thank you for the offer though.’

His eyes softened as I dared to touch him for a moment longer before letting my hand drop back to my lap. He looked down and, with gentle fingers, lifted my hand back to his face. He leaned into my touch as sparks ricocheted around my chest. How was it that he had fixed my sadness so quickly?

Was it because I knew that Joel was wrong and this wasn’t just a fleeting fancy? Was it because I knew that Charlie and me were so much more than that, much more than Joel and I had ever been?

Oh God how I wanted to pull him to me, to kiss him and feel that closeness that I’d longed to feel with him. But this was neither the time nor the place and so, after a few moments longer, I withdrew my hand again and pushed myself up to standing. Charlie followed suit and we slowly began meandering back towards the house.

‘So, we heard how my argument went, how was yours?’ I asked, nodding in the direction of where he and Kenna had been shouting a few minutes ago.

‘Oh, fine. That’s how Kenna and I communicate. We love each other really though.’

‘It certainly looked like it,’ I said sarcastically.

The back of Charlie’s hand brushed mine, accidentally on purpose. ‘She’s a right to be mad at me. After what I did.’

‘And what did you do?’ I asked, stopping and turning to him. He stopped too, turned to me and pressed his lips together.

‘I would tell yer, but it’s a long story and right now, I need to introduce yer to Steve.’

More family, yay! I thought.

‘Who is Steve?’ I asked.

‘Steve and I go way back.’

‘Is he going to slap you too?’

‘I most certainly hope not. We met when I was sixteen and became best friends, although life moved on and we became estranged … until today that is.’ He turned with a sly smile on his lips and walked towards the drive. I followed on, jogging to keep up. ‘He was in a pretty terrible state when we met, but Dad helped me get him back on his feet,’ he said as we descended a small set of stone steps beside the house and reached the gravel drive. Charlie walked a little further on and disappeared inside the garage that Eoin had emerged from a few hours earlier. ‘Well, when I say feet, I mean tyres really.’

He held his arms aloft and presented to me: Steve.

‘Steve’s a motorbike?’ I asked, somewhat relieved that I didn’t have to meet more people with bottled-up anger to throw Charlie’s way.

‘He’s not just a motorbike, Nell. He’s a Triumph TR6 Trophy, which I know is a hilariously problematic thing for an Irish person to say, but all great love affairs have obstacles.’

‘Why Steve?’ I asked.

‘This is the same model of bike used in the chase scenes in The Great Escape.’

‘Ah, Steve McQueen. Gotcha.’

‘Very good.’ He grinned. I didn’t know if it was just wishful thinking, but I felt like I could see a change in him already. It was slight, but noticeable. Coming back here, where Abi and he fell in love, must have been terrifyingly daunting. But being here and seeing that not everyone had let their lives fall apart due to their grief seemed to be reassuring him that life could get better.

‘So, the ferry to Clare leaves at three thirty. I wondered if you’d like to travel on Steve with me?’ he asked with a boyish grin.

‘Clare? Ferry? Huh?’ I asked, completely confused. ‘Just so I’m clear, is Clare a person or another form of transport?’

‘Neither. Clare’s an island. It’s not far, only about three miles off the coast. We’re staying with one of Carrick’s friends there. So, you happy to travel by bike? Carrick’ll take the bags.’

‘Seems safer than travelling with Carrick.’ I shrugged, Charlie meeting my words with a chuckle.

‘So, why are we staying on an island and not here? Isn’t Carrick’s place nearby?’ I asked as Charlie took two helmets from the wall and dusted off a decade of cobwebs.

‘Carrick thought it would be a good idea. Abi never went over to the island and so he thought it might be a trigger-free atmosphere to keep fragile little Charlie in while we wait for the memorial.’

‘That was thoughtful of him.’

‘Don’t go thinking too highly of him,’ Charlie said, placing both of the helmets on the shining leather seat. ‘It’s just an excuse to go and see Orlagh – she owns the hotel on the island.’

I raised my eyebrows.

He nodded. ‘It’s a long story.’

I looked at him as if to say, I’ve got all day, and he began telling me the tale.

‘So, when we drove into town, did yer see the convenience store called Cornerstone?’

I shook my head. ‘No, I was too busy looking at the boobs-in-a-bath hills,’ I replied.

‘Understandable. Well, my family owns that shop and a few more across the county. Carrick began taking the business over from my grandparents and the first summer he worked there, he met Orlagh McCarthy who’d just got a job to save up some money before she went to college. He was, what, twenty-eight at this point, making me about sixteen. I remember takin’ the piss outta him relentlessly about how she was ten years younger and he was a cradle snatcher and all. But they loved each other, no denyin’ that. They had three months together, before it ended.’

‘What happened?’ I asked, yet again pulled into one of the romantic sagas of the Stone men.

‘She went off to uni and he stayed here. Cut to three years later and Orlagh comes back home with a degree and no idea what to do with it. Carrick gave her job back to her while she sorted things out and within six months they were engaged and married.’

‘Carrick’s married?’ I blurted, shocked that he’d managed to find someone to put up with him.

‘Was married. Past