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

a slightly ominous-looking stone building with a large rose window of stained glass that sat, pride of place, in the centre. From here, I couldn’t see the colours or even make out the pattern, the dark interior of the church not letting it live up to the beauty it was made for.

Ava had arrived at the door of Carrick’s house not long after I’d gifted George to Charlie. She’d been in a tizzy, worrying that we wouldn’t be there in time to greet the first person that showed. They’d offered us a ride, but after seeing Carrick’s suit they’d seemed more than happy to arrive separately to us. Charlie hadn’t spoken since we left the house, not that Carrick’s verbal stream of consciousness gave him the opportunity to, as we walked the short journey to town. I didn’t know if he was talking so much because he wanted to take everyone’s mind off everything or if he was nervous or if, like me, he sometimes just found that there were too many words that needed saying.

We were walking for about three minutes before my arms started turning numb from the cold, but Carrick quickly whipped off his turquoise scarf and placed it around my shoulders. I pulled it tight around my arms, the cashmere silky against my goose-bumped skin.

We lingered outside the church doors, Charlie kicking nervously at stones and wandering over to the river and back as if trying to run up his step count for the day. Carrick stood out like a chav at Ascot, sitting there on the steps like an impatient child, his suit no doubt visible from the end of the street. Ava and Eoin had got there before us, but were standing far enough away that it wasn’t immediately obvious that we were a group, lest they be associated with me and the chartreuse wonder behind me.

It wasn’t long until the steps were teeming with people, their eyes shiftily searching for the elusive Charlie as he dithered on the spot beside me, wringing his hands as the time for the inevitable drew closer. Agnes and Roisin arrived, this time wearing matching black headscarves instead of rain bonnets and they nodded me a greeting. Una and Jamie were nowhere to be seen yet and I wondered if Jamie had had second thoughts about letting his wife anywhere near the man who had the information to ruin his marriage.

‘Ah feck,’ I heard Charlie mutter under his breath and I followed his eyes to the two approaching figures. One of the two women was Kenna, her halo of hair so recognisable even from a distance, and the other, I guessed, was the one Charlie had been dreading to come face to face with. His whole body tensed and he spun on the ball of his foot.

‘I can’t,’ he said, his head bowed, his forehead almost on my shoulder.

‘You can,’ I replied firmly without taking my eyes off the women. ‘This is why we’re here.’ Everyone turned and watched as Kenna used the pavement as a catwalk. Her six-inch, platform heels brought her up to regular human height and accentuated every muscle that lay behind the flawless milk-white skin of her legs. Her dress was skin-tight and came down to just below her knees, before flicking out like one of those mermaid dresses that normal people have trouble walking in, but not Kenna. It was cinched in at the ludicrously tiny waist and had short batwing sleeves that made her look like all she needed to do was don a black wig and some heavy eyeliner and she’d be set to take up the role of Morticia Addams. Her hair was, once again, huge, her curls looking an even brighter orange than yesterday and coiffed to a height that Dolly Parton herself would have been proud of. I am sure that Kenna was used to diverting the gaze of everyone she passed. In fact, she was so distracting that as she made her way to Ava and Eoin, I completely forgot about the other woman until she was standing in front of me.

‘Well, don’t yer look lovely. Are yer a friend of Abigale’s?’ the woman, who could be no one other than Siobhan, asked.

The genes among the Murphy women seemed to be just as strong as the ones shared among the Stone men, with her white-streaked, deep red hair, which had dulled with age but still had the spark of the vibrancy it once held. Her brown eyes and freckle-dappled nose were the mirror of her daughter’s.

‘Erm, no, I didn’t know her. I’m Nell,’ I said, my voice shaky.

‘Siobhan, nice to meet yer,’ she said, shaking my hand. It was clear to see from the intense depth of pain in her eyes that the welcomes and courteous smiles were all a show. On the inside, this woman was hollowed out.

I heard Charlie’s feet scuffle against the ground, as if he was about to make a run for it, but there was nowhere for him to go. I was pinning him in on one side, Carrick the second and Siobhan the third. His only other option was to run straight into the stone wall of the church and probably knock himself out in the process, which I wouldn’t put past him right now. Charlie needed to talk to Siobhan. There was no way he could avoid it and so I swallowed hard and bit the proverbial bullet. ‘I’m one of Charlie’s friends. Isn’t that right, Charlie?’ I said, turning to Charlie and forcing him into the conversation. I could hear the fearful breaths whistling in and out of his nose as he looked at Siobhan with childlike fear.

There was a moment where everyone held their breaths. I saw Ava, from across the expanse of the church’s stone steps, glancing over wide-eyed as she ignored whatever Kenna was saying. It was almost unbearable, waiting for something to happen as the seconds ticked by at agonisingly slow speed.

‘Siobhan,’ Charlie said in