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

gut, this deep irrational jealousy and feeling of inferiority, all sparked by the woman he had loved, still loved, and all of the things they’d done together that we never would. He probably had memories with her in every corner of his hometown and mine for that matter. Every bench had, at one time, probably been witness to a tender kiss or a late-night fight on the way home from an evening out. Every person in this town knew Charlie as Abi’s Charlie, not Nell’s, and it would probably stay that way forever.

It’s not his fault. Abi’s voice came again, closer this time, so loud it sounded as though her lips were pressed to my ear. I’m pretty hard to forget.

I swallowed hard and pushed myself up to standing.

‘We should probably get going if we’re gonna help with dinner.’

He looked back out to the view, sighed and stood up. ‘Right yer are.’

As we walked back towards Steve, I thought about asking him how he was feeling about tomorrow, but I didn’t. Tomorrow was the day for mourning, the day he’d been dreading for the last two years, and I didn’t need to help bring that pain on a day early.

Back at the lighthouse, we found Carrick rolling pastry while Orlagh fried something delicious on the stove. She quickly set us to work whipping cream and cutting strawberries for the Victoria sponge she’d made.

‘The other guests should be back soon. They went out to see the abbey,’ she said as she filled the pastry-coated pie dish with whatever was in the pan. My mouth watered with the smell of it.

‘There’s an abbey here?’ I asked Charlie, and I saw him flinch a little at my question. It wasn’t until I’d spoken it that I realised that it was the homonym causing the discomfort.

‘Yeah, just a wee one,’ Carrick replied. ‘You remember the pirate queen I told yer about on the way into town?’

I nodded.

‘She’s buried there and her castle’s down by the dock. Charlie can show it to yer before we leave tomorrow.’

The sound of voices in the hallway made us all turn and Orlagh transformed from flirting chef to charming hostess. She wiped her hands on a green and white checked tea towel and moved to the doorway where they shared a muffled greeting and when she returned, she brought the two of them in with her. A woman stepped in behind her. She beamed across at Carrick, her brown hair blown wild by the wind.

‘This is my dear friend Carrick, his nephew—’

‘Charlie,’ she said and suddenly, the stranger was rushing forward and flinging her arms around him.

Charlie reciprocated the hug rigidly and tapped her shoulder awkwardly, the knife he’d been using to chop strawberries still in his hand, until she pulled away. ‘How the devil are you?’

‘I’m okay. It’s been a long time,’ he said in a voice that wasn’t his. ‘Are you here for the memorial?’

She nodded and looked from Charlie to me, confusion on her face.

‘Sorry, how rude am I? Who is this?’ she asked.

‘Nell,’ Charlie said.

‘Hi, Nell. I’m Una.’

Una, where had I heard that name before? And was that the slightest hint of a Brummie accent I detected? ‘Were you a friend of Abi’s too?’

‘No, she didn’t know her,’ Charlie said before I had chance to. I’d have been annoyed that he wasn’t letting me speak, if I didn’t know that it was because he was trying not to say something else. I’d had verbal diarrhoea enough times to know when someone was trying to hold it back. ‘Are the girls here?’

She rolled her eyes and grinned from ear to ear. ‘They’re with my parents,’ she said, her pinched lips hinting that there was more to this. ‘We thought we’d get away while we still can.’ Her hand dropped to her belly.

‘Your … again?’ he asked.

She nodded. ‘Twins again, can you believe it?’

‘I can’t,’ Charlie said with vacant eyes.

‘Oh,’ Una responded unsurely before turning back to Charlie. ‘Jamie’s gonna be so excited to see you.’ She looked over her shoulder and shouted, ‘Jamie! Look who’s here!’

Jamie, why did I know these names? Why did I know …

As Jamie stepped through the door, I remembered where I knew them from. Jamie, Charlie’s ex-friend who’d forced him out that night and Una, the wife who’d been betrayed against the wall of a nightclub smoking area.

I saw Charlie bristle, his hands fidgeting around the knife in his hand, the blade still stained watery red. I hoped that that shade wouldn’t be getting darker in the next few seconds.

Jamie was tall, broad and you could tell that he was ripped just from the way his shirt hung over his body. Beneath his clothes he probably looked like Chris Pratt, only a gross, unfaithful, lecherous, detestable version. His hair was blond and slicked back, although the wind had done its best to cast it into disarray, and he came in wearing a smug smile, as if he was feeding from Charlie’s obvious discomfort.

‘We tried to contact you a few times, but it seemed like you’d dropped off the map. You’re skinny,’ Una said, looking him up and down, as Jamie came to her side, slotted his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head.

‘It’s been a while.’ Jamie extended his hand to Charlie and for one horribly tense moment, I thought that Charlie was going to turn away. But he didn’t and I exhaled a relieved breath as they shook hands, Jamie’s fingers brushing the hairline scars across Charlie’s knuckles that had been made on the same night that was the cause of all this awkwardness. Did Una know? Had he confessed and were they working through it? Or was the girl at the club one of many who would never be spoken of?

‘Doesn’t seem like that long to me,’ Charlie said, his eyes holding Jamie’s gaze in a look of abject disgust.

‘Well, we should probably get changed out of these muddy boots,’ Una said, trying to break