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

tense. Orlagh wanted children and Carrick didn’t. So, in the end, even though they really did love each other, they got divorced. Ironic really.’

‘Why is that ironic?’

‘Ah, yer a bright girl, Nelly. I’m sure you’ll understand when we get there. She married again about ten years ago. He’s nice. Thick, but nice.’

‘But that’s so sad,’ I protested. ‘They love each other still?’

‘Ah, that they do.’

‘Don’t you lot have any stories that end happily?’

‘I’ll let you know when I get to the end of this one,’ he said, looking up at me with eyes that made my chest tighten. ‘We’d better get to goin’ if we’re gonna make the ferry on time. Do you think we can just run away or should we go back and say goodbye?’ he asked.

‘I think that it’ll be safer for you to say goodbye, if the slapping is anything to go by.’

He nodded reluctantly and we made our way back inside.

The wind whipped my hair against my face, my arms wrapped around Charlie’s torso, as we travelled through the Irish countryside. Hills and trees and expanses of water lay all around us as we zoomed towards where a ferry waited to take us to Clare Island. But no matter how far we travelled, the spectral ghost of Croagh Patrick loomed over us. It was beautiful here, what I’d always expected Ireland to look like, but I could never have imagined the circumstances that would lead me here.

I pulled my arms a little tighter around him and felt the vibration of a contented laugh reverberate through his chest.

Right now, there was no Joel, no Abi, no sadness. There was just me and him, zooming through the landscape on a motorbike called Steve.

Chapter Twenty

‘It’s a lighthouse,’ I said my mouth curled into an excited grin. ‘An actual lighthouse, on a cliff, on an island.’

‘That it is,’ Carrick replied as we stood next to the taxi out front. ‘And if yer think the hotel’s beautiful, wait until you see the owner.’ Carrick hadn’t been able to bring his orange death mobile over on the ferry. We’d been able to bring Steve however, but only because Carrick used to go to school with the ferry owner.

I pulled my bag from the boot of the cab and felt a hand on my lower back as Charlie returned from making sure that Steve was safe beneath an awning.

‘You ready to spot the irony?’ Charlie whispered into my ear as Carrick made his way towards the door and rang the bell.

‘I’ll keep my eyes peeled,’ I whispered back.

‘Oh, there’ll be no need for that.’

We followed Carrick and arrived at the door just in time for it to open and an elfin-faced woman with golden blonde hair, pinned back to reveal sharp cheekbones, popped her face through the gap.

‘Carrick!’ Her mouth drew wide and her palest grey eyes lit up as she threw her slender arms around his neck and pulled him towards her.

‘Orlagh.’ He sighed her name into her neck.

I felt a little awkward standing there in this intimate moment that wasn’t mine.

‘It’s been too long,’ she said, her eyes closed, her fingers gripping the back of his jacket as if she was afraid this was a dream and at any moment he might slip away.

Charlie and I stood, awkwardly, while the hug lasted far longer than was socially acceptable and I took great interest in a small rock several inches from the toe of my shoe.

Eventually, they parted and the woman turned to us.

‘Orlagh, this is Nell, Charlie’s … friend.’ Carrick motioned to me and then to Charlie. ‘And yer already know this eejit.’

‘Nice to see you again, Charlie, and welcome, Nell. I’ve put you up in the room with the best view. Don’t want to waste it on these cretins.’ She wrinkled her nose as she smiled, took my bag from my hand and walked into the hallway.

‘Oh, I can carry that,’ I said, not wanting to make a fuss as I followed her inside to a wide, airy hallway.

‘Ah, it’s no bother,’ she said, waving a hand over her shoulder. ‘I’m stronger than I look.’

Good, I thought, because her thin, wiry limbs made her look as if a strong breeze might knock her down.

We walked through a sitting room. The warm yellow light coming from the tall standard lamps filled the room with a happy glow that made me feel instantly at home.

‘The other room is taken by guests, so just be aware that they’ll be around,’ she said, speaking mostly to Carrick.

There came a scuffling sound from nearby and, seemingly from nowhere, a swift shadow moved from one of the sofas, a book slipping from the cushion in its wake and toppling onto the maroon high-pile rug. A moment later, I felt a rush of stirring air against my shins as something zoomed past and crashed into Carrick’s legs. He made a loud, feigned sound of agony and whisked the shadow up into his arms. Now that he was still, and not moving at a thousand miles an hour, it was clear to see that the shadow was a small boy. Only six or seven.

‘Who is this?’ Carrick asked, holding the child aloft and looking over every inch of him.

‘It’s me, Uncle Rick.’ The little boy tittered.

‘No, it can’t possibly be you, you’re far too big.’

‘Mammy makes me kale for dinner sometimes. Says it’ll make me strong like Popeye.’

‘Kale? Well, firstly, yer mammy needs to get her references right because that would be spinach, not kale. And secondly, let me just get child services on the phone right now, because that is nothin’ but child abuse.’ He pulled the child back into his arms and gave him a firm, affection-filled squeeze.

‘Nope, I agree,’ Charlie said, coming to Carrick’s side and ruffling the child’s golden hair. ‘Can’t possibly be young Darlow.’

‘It’s me, Charlie.’ The little boy giggled again and I found myself smiling with him.

Charlie glanced my way and there was something in his eyes that suggested