Christmas Wishes at Cranberry (Apple Hill Bay #3)

Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Orla, aged 14. December 8 th

Orla stood at the top of the cliffs looking down at the three beaches that made up Apple Hill Bay: Strawberry Sands directly under her, Blackberry Beach in the middle of the bay and opposite, the beautiful secluded Cranberry Cove.

Cranberry Cove was one of her favourite places to go, especially after dark, because no one else went there. At low tide, the public steps to the beach were dark and treacherous and at high tide, the only access to the cove was from the steps at the back of Starlight Cottage, the little holiday let that sat alone on the clifftops over the little beach. Someone had put solar lights along the private steps which made it easier to traverse in the dark. The cottage, despite its prime location, was very rarely rented out, probably due to its exorbitant price, so sneaking into the garden to access the steps had never been a problem. When it was occupied, it was a little harder, but not impossible. But someone had stayed there for the last few weeks and spent most evenings in the garden, which had put a stop to her illicit trespassing. There had been no sign of a car there over the last few days so she might be able to go back to her favourite spot again tonight.

She liked it there because it was so quiet. No shouting, no screaming, no vases or mugs being thrown or smashed across the room, it was just the gentle sound of the waves lapping on the sand; it was the peace she so desperately craved.

Her parents hated each other. Not enough that they wanted to leave, but enough that they wanted to make each other’s lives a living hell. Of course that meant her life was a living hell too. She was dreading Christmas this year and Christmas was normally her favourite time of year.

When her family had lived in Ireland, her dad had ruined a seemingly perfect happy marriage by having an affair. After swearing it was a mistake and it would never happen again, they’d all moved to England to start a new life, but her mum could never trust him again and after a few months her dad had another affair with the mum of Roo, one of the girls from school. They’d been shouting and screaming ever since and she stayed out of the house as often as she could despite the cold December weather.

‘Hey!’

Orla turned to see who was calling her and smiled to see Fern, the new girl at school. She had only been at their school for a few weeks but there was something so likeable and endearing about her.

‘Hi Fern.’

‘Hey, do you live round here?’

‘Not far from here, just a few minutes’ walk down towards the main part of the town. My house overlooks the harbour, but I just like the view from up here.’

‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I live over there,’ Fern pointed to the stone cottage. ‘So I wake up to that view every day. Do you want to come back to mine for a bit? Mum makes the best mince pies.’

Oh, to have a mum that cared enough to make mince pies. Orla’s own mum barely even knew she was there; she was too busy arguing with her dad to notice Orla’s comings or goings let alone have time to make mince pies. But Fern was looking at her so hopefully she didn’t have the heart to say she was too bitter and twisted to play happy families with someone else’s mum.

‘Sure, that would be nice,’ Orla said, and Fern’s face split into a huge smile as she gestured for Orla to follow her. ‘So, you’re enjoying living here?’

‘I love it,’ said Fern. ‘I go to the beach every day, what’s not to love about that? First time I even saw the beach was when I moved here, now I never want to leave.’

Orla smiled at that. ‘Any brothers or sisters move with you?’

‘Two brothers, Theo and Shay. They are always off surfing, so I think they love it here too.’

‘So just the five of you?’

Orla was diplomatically trying to find out if Fern’s parents were still together without asking if they were bitterly at each other’s throats like her own parents were. She imagined if Fern’s mum was happily making mince pies, then her dad would be the sort that would be making treehouses in the garden.

‘Four.’

‘Your parents aren’t together?’ It would be nice to find a kindred spirit in that regard.

‘Oh, I have no idea who my dad is,’ Fern said. ‘He was never part of my life. My birth mum didn’t want to be part of my life either, I haven’t seen her since I was seven, which is how I ended up in foster care, but Carrie adopted me about a year ago.’

Orla felt guilt and shame flood through her. It was so easy to assume everyone else had a perfect rose-tinted life, but everyone had their own issues and their own emotional baggage to deal with.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be, I have the best mum in the world with Carrie,’ Fern said, cheerfully. ‘Come on, you can meet her for yourself.’

Fern let herself into her kitchen and Orla followed. There was a woman standing at the oven, presumably making their dinner. She turned when she heard the door opening and a big smile lit up her face.

‘Hello, my darling,’ Carrie said, opening her arms and Fern stepped straight into them without any of the embarrassment that most of Orla’s teenage friends would have. Orla swallowed a lump in her throat. She would love to have a hug from her own mum but love and affection had been severely lacking from their relationship in recent years. ‘Did you have a good day in school?’

‘Yeah, I did,’ Fern’s voice was muffled as her face was pressed into Carrie’s chest.

Fern stepped back and Carrie spotted Orla.

‘Who’s this?’

‘This is my friend Orla,’ Fern said.

To Orla’s surprise, Carrie came over and gave her a big hug too and that made all kinds of emotions swirl in her chest. It had been a long time since she’d been held like this. ‘Lovely to meet you. You’re staying for dinner, right?’

‘Oh, I erm…’ Orla said. But then what was waiting for her at home? She’d probably make herself a bacon sandwich or cheese on toast. There certainly wasn’t going to be any lovingly prepared home-cooked meal. ‘If that’s OK.’

Fern nodded.

‘Of course it is, as long as it’s OK with your parents,’ Carrie said.

‘I’ll text Mum,’ Orla said, knowing full well she wouldn’t get a reply.

‘Well help yourselves to cakes or mince pies, I’ve just got to make a few phone calls,’ Carrie said, gesturing to the cake tin before hurrying out.

‘Your mum’s pretty cool,’ Orla said, looking around at the Christmas tree twinkling with lights in the corner. There were already presents stacked neatly underneath and festive garlands strewn around the room. Christmas songs were playing on the radio and the scent of mince pies and gingerbread cookies filled the air. Her parents hadn’t even bothered decorating for Christmas this year and there certainly wouldn’t be any home-made mince pies or Christmas cookies.

Fern nodded. ‘Yes, she is.’ She looked at something out the window and rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, here come my brothers. Theo will probably flirt with you, he’s like that with everyone, so don’t take it personally. Shay probably won’t say anything to you, he’s like that with everyone too.’

Orla turned round to see two strong, good-looking boys laughing and walking up to the door. They arrived in the kitchen with a lot of noise and chaos and damp clothes. She’d seen them both before around the town and on the beach, but she hadn’t spoken to either of them. They both stopped when they saw Orla.

‘Oh hello,’ one of them said.

‘Hello, I’m Orla.’

‘Oh, I love your accent,’ he said. ‘I’m Theo and this is Shay.’

Shay stared at her but didn’t say anything. Fern had summed them up perfectly. Orla recognised Shay from the ice cream shop. He’d started working there a few weeks ago. He was so at odds there with their colourful displays, counters filled with a multitude of bright flavoured ice creams and lots of sprinkles. It was everything he wasn’t, with his permanent scowl and dark clothes.

‘Theo, you’re bleeding,’ Fern gasped.

Orla looked at Theo’s t-shirt and could see blood seeping through on his side.

‘It’s just a scratch,’ Theo said.

‘It’s a bit more than that,’ Shay said.

‘I’m going to try and clean it up a bit before Mum sees it,’ Theo said, walking out the kitchen, completely unfazed.

A few seconds later it was evident he had failed at that mission.

‘Oh my god,’ Carrie almost screamed.

Fern went running out to see the wound for herself, leaving Orla alone with Shay.

They stared at each other. He really was exceptionally good-looking.

‘You live at Windmill Cottage, right?’ Shay said.

She frowned. ‘How do you know that?’

‘I walk past there sometimes on my way back from my job in the ice cream shop. I hear your parents screaming at each other and sometimes I see you, sitting in the lounge or your bedroom trying to block it all out. I’ve often thought about marching in there, taking you by the hand and marching back out again.’

She stared at him in shock. No one had noticed what was going on in her house, or if they had they certainly hadn’t cared enough to ask her about it. But this stranger, this boy who she’d never spoken to, he cared. He cared enough to want to get her out of there.

Shay looked embarrassed that he’d said that. ‘But then I figured some stranger basically abducting you from your house would probably scare you, and your parents probably wouldn’t be happy about it either.’

‘My parents wouldn’t even notice you were there, or that I wasn’t. They’re far too busy shouting at each other.’

‘I’m sorry. I know what it’s like being in the middle of a very toxic relationship.’

‘Well next time you’re passing, feel free to come and break me out,’ Orla said.

His mouth twitched in a smile.

Carrie marched back into the kitchen, almost dragging a reluctant Theo with her.

‘I need to take Theo to get some stitches,’ Carrie said.

‘Mum, it’s fine, just a scratch,’ Theo protested.

‘Shay, can you give the girls some dinner? The meatballs are nearly ready, the pasta needs putting on now and there’s garlic bread in the fridge that needs heating up. Monica will be collecting Fern in half an hour for her painting class so can you walk Orla home?’ Carrie said, completely ignoring Theo’s protests and not even breaking stride as she handed out the instructions.

‘Oh, I don’t need to be walked home, it’s not far,’ Orla said.

Carrie fixed her with a look that said she was not to be argued with and Orla snapped her mouth closed.

‘No problem,’ Shay said.

Within seconds Carrie had frogmarched Theo out of the door and bundled him in the car.

‘It really did look bad,’ Fern said. ‘I’m pretty sure I could see a rib.’

‘He did it while we were surfing, landed badly on a rock. He wasn’t fussed about it at the time, just got back on his board and carried on surfing. It was only when we got out the sea, we noticed how bad it was. He said it didn’t even hurt, but you know what Theo’s like,’ Shay said, as he emptied pasta into a pan, filled it with water and put in on the hob.

‘Theo is always getting into scrapes, breaking bones, injuring himself, he has no fear,’ Fern said.

Shay retrieved the garlic bread from the fridge, placed it on a baking tray and popped it in the oven. It was weird seeing him so domesticated after seeing him in the park, smoking and drinking with his mates, playing music, being cool and aloof. This was a whole other side to him. He must have only been a year or two older than her and Fern, maybe fifteen or sixteen at most. Most of the kids her age could make themselves some toast if need be and while heating some garlic bread and cooking some pasta was hardly cordon bleu, she liked that he was capable. She had taught herself to cook as a distraction from what was going on in the house and she loved the escape it gave her. Measuring and mixing ingredients together and experimenting with different flavours was very cathartic.

‘Can I help with anything?’ Orla offered.

‘No, it’s all in hand. Mum’s already made the meatballs and the sauce,’ Shay said as Fern laid the table.

Within a few minutes dinner was served and it tasted delicious. Home-cooked meals seemed to be a thing of the past now. Her parents were too bitter and angry to want to cook for each other. Her dad would go out a lot and her mum didn’t want to be seen to be at home waiting for him and would go out too. Orla relished those times when there was silence in the house. That’s when she would cook for herself but having someone else cook for her was a rare treat.

Fern chatted happily all the way through dinner and Shay barely said a word, but no sooner had the last mouthful been eaten than there was a knock on the door.

‘That’s my ride,’ Fern said, cheerfully. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, Orla.’

Fern grabbed her bag and ran out the front door, leaving Orla and Shay alone.

Shay started loading everything into the dishwasher and she gave him a hand clearing the table.

‘I’ll walk you home,’ Shay said, once that was done.

‘You don’t have to do that.’

‘Oh, I do. Mum would kill me if I didn’t.’

‘But I was just going to hang out on the beach for a bit.’

‘It’s a bit cold for that isn’t it?’

‘My coat is pretty warm and I have a hat and gloves in my bag.’

‘Are you meeting friends?’

‘No, I go by myself.’

‘Then I’ll come with you.’

‘You really don’t have to do that, I’m sure you have better things to do with your time.’

‘No, I really don’t. I’m going to walk you home, no matter what time that is.’

She folded her arms across her chest, not sure she was keen on the idea of a self-imposed babysitter.

He mirrored her actions and she let out a huff of annoyance. ‘Fine. Come with me to the beach. I warn you, it’s very boring. I just sit there and look out at the sea.’

‘I’m pretty sure I’m capable of doing that too.’

He ushered her out the back door, grabbed his jacket and locked the door behind them. ‘Which beach?’

‘Cranberry Cove.’ She waited to see if he baulked at the idea – it was the furthest away.

‘We’ll take my bike then.’

He wandered off to the garage at the side, unlocked it and wheeled out a bike. It looked like something that was cross between a motorbike and a bicycle. It had pedals and a chain around the back wheel, but it had large thick, off-road tyres, chopper style handles and a double-length seat that could easily fit two people.

‘That looks like a pretty cool bike.’

‘It’s electric. I persuaded Mum to buy it off eBay for a tenner. It didn’t work so I replaced all the parts, replaced the tyres and the suspension, fitted a new seat, spray painted it, spent many a loving hour doing it up. She’s my pride and joy.’ He swung his leg over the seat. ‘Come on, hop on.’

‘What?’

‘Get on.’

She stared at him.

‘You want to get to the beach some time tonight, right?’

She sighed. Her peaceful evening was definitely taking a weird turn. She climbed on the bike behind him. She looked around for something to hold onto, but he took her hands and wrapped them around his waist. She couldn’t help but notice his rock-hard stomach.

‘Is this how you get the girls, impress them with your flashy bike and then give them rides around the town?’

He burst out laughing and she loved the sound of it. ‘Girls don’t tend to be impressed by an oversized bicycle with a top speed of twenty miles an hour. Girls who like that sort of thing, prefer real motorbikes. The double seat was for Fern. She has no qualms about riding around on the back of my slightly-less-than-cool bike.’

He started the battery and it made a high-pitched whirring noise, which made her giggle. It definitely wasn’t the roar of a motorbike. But when they started moving, she was surprised by how fast it seemed and how exhilarating it was to be driving over the cliff tops. The sun had already set but it was that beautiful twilight time of day where the sky was still pink above the sea. She held him tighter and couldn’t help letting out a little whoop of excitement, which made him laugh.

It only took a few minutes to reach the top of Cranberry Cove. The tide was In tonight so the public path to the beach would be no good.

‘How are you planning on getting down?’ Shay asked.

‘I have my ways. Can you head to Starlight Cottage?’

He rode the bike in that direction and then stopped outside, killing the engine. The house was in darkness and there was no car in the drive or any sign anyone was staying there.

They climbed off and she gestured for him to follow her around the back. He wheeled his bike into the back garden and stashed it against the fence so it was hidden from the main road.

‘Isn’t this trespassing?’ Shay said.

‘We have to live a little dangerously. Besides this house is rarely in use. It’s a holiday let with its own indoor pool. It’s such a shame that it’s not lived in and loved. It’s such a beautiful house. One day, I’m going to live here and treat it with the love it deserves.’

‘I like that dream.’

She led the way to the steps at the back of the garden and followed them down to the beach.

There wasn’t anyone else down there – there never was –so she found a place at the back of the beach and sat down. He sat down next to her. She wondered if he would talk but he didn’t, so she just enjoyed the silence, watching the waves gently rolling in. She could sit like this forever and never get bored of it.

She took a flask of hot chocolate from her bag, poured it into a mug and passed it to Shay. He thanked her. She poured some out for her in the cup shaped lid of the flask and took a sip.

After a while he spoke. ‘Do you mind if I smoke?’

‘I’d rather you didn’t,’ Orla said.

He shrugged. ‘OK.’

She felt bad. He was being kind enough to accompany her, if he wanted to smoke then he should be allowed to smoke.

‘Sorry, I just hate the smell. Dad used to smoke when I was little but he quit years ago. Now he’s started up again and I’m pretty sure he does it just to piss my mum off. They row so often about it and he seems to do it even more, smoking three or four in quick succession while she screams at him the whole time. Now the smell just reminds me of anger and hatred and bitterness.’

‘It’s not a problem. It’s a disgusting, unhealthy habit anyway. Not quite sure why I do it.’

‘To fit in,’ Orla said.

‘Probably.’ He looked out over the sea. ‘I’ve spent my life desperate to be liked, to be loved and then Carrie adopts me, brings me here and it feels like a fresh start. And I just want to make friends. Being moved around so much in foster care meant I never had any friends growing up, being quiet and withdrawn also doesn’t help. So now I smoke and drink because that’s what the cool kids do. I listen to music I don’t even like. I’m not even sure I recognise the person I’m becoming.’

Her heart went out to him. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what growing up in foster care was like, being shipped from home to home, never making connections, no one really caring about him. It must have been devastating.

‘I get it, I really do. But from what I’ve seen you’re pretty cool in your own right and if you did the things you like to do, you’d find your own people. Real friends that like you for who you are.’

‘Someone like you?’

She smiled. ‘We can be friends.’

‘But only if I stop smoking.’

‘Oh no, I’d never ask you to change anything about you for me. And I don’t care if you smoke or not, I’d just prefer you don’t do it around me.’

‘I can do that. So you’ve never felt the need to fit in?’

‘I don’t know. I like people, I like having friends like Fern and you and others. But I also just really like being on my own too. Maybe it’s that only child syndrome, you learn to keep yourself occupied, depend on yourself and no one else. I moved schools when I was younger, no idea why, I don’t think my parents liked the teachers. I was bullied quite badly at the new school for being the new kid. It didn’t make me want to fit in with them, it made me want to be alone. I like to read so I’d always try to find a quiet spot at lunch or breaktime to read a book. A book never lets you down, it never calls you names, it never tries to hurt you.’

He nodded. ‘Yeah, I get that. And I bet it feels like your parents have let you down too?’

‘Oh yeah, and I feel quite angry about that. When they’re both at home they fight, constantly. When it’s just one of them they bitch about the other one to me and then get annoyed when I don’t take their side. My mum isn’t even speaking to me right now because I didn’t agree with her over some petty thing she was berating my dad over.’

‘What’s their deal, why do they hate each other so much?’

‘Dad had an affair. I think it caught my mum completely off guard, she had no idea. She always said they were happy. I remember us all being happy together but clearly my dad wasn’t. And it wasn’t even a one-time only thing, it had been going on for two years before he was found out. Dad was hugely apologetic, swore it would never happen again, said it didn’t mean anything, the usual cliches. Mum was heartbroken, I was too if truth be told. Anyway, Dad insisted we moved away, start over. I think that was partly because we lived in a small village and everyone hated him for what he had done to my mum. But we moved here, left behind all our friends and family and then he had another affair so now my mum hates him even more. And I just wish they would get a divorce, move out, and move on with their lives or at least move out and hate each other from a distance, but they prefer shouting and screaming at each other. They seem to get some perverse enjoyment out of it. This is why I come here to get away from them. And I suppose there’s a tiny part of me that would like them to look around one day and think: where’s Orla? But I don’t think that will ever happen.’

‘That sounds rough.’

‘Yeah it is. As soon as I’m eighteen, I’m going to go to university and get away from here. But that’s another four years.’

‘You know you’d always be welcome to stay at ours. We have a spare bedroom that’s never used. Carrie would welcome you with open arms. I know it’s not a permanent fix unless you can persuade Carrie to adopt you too, but at least it would give you a break a few nights a week.’

Orla thought about how blissful it would be to not be woken every morning with fighting and shouting. ‘You know, I might take you up on that. I’m honestly dreading Christmas this year and normally it’s my favourite time of year. We haven’t even decorated the house yet, and I love decorating the tree. I doubt there will even be a tree this year, so yes, having a night or two away from the hell would be wonderful, if Carrie really is OK with it.’

‘I know she’d be OK with it, she’s that sort of person. Let me have a word with her.’

‘Thank you. I mean, you don’t even know me.’

He shrugged. ‘We’re friends, right?’

She grinned. She liked that. ‘So you know my story, what’s yours? You said you know what it’s like to be in the middle of a toxic relationship.’

Shay let out a heavy sigh. ‘Greg, the man that biologically is my father, used to beat my mum, pretty much every day.’

Her heart dropped. ‘Oh Shay, I’m so sorry.’

‘Yeah, it was horrible. I still have nightmares about it, I can still hear the sound of his fist making contact with her. My mum adored him, she would always say it was her fault, that she deserved to be hit. I always tried to stop him and he hit me a few times when I got in the way but he never laid into me like he did with my mum. Generally, he would just shove me aside and I was too weak and too small to stop him.’

He swallowed and she took his hand, although he didn’t seem to notice.

‘The dad of one of my friends at school was a police officer and when I told my friend what was happening, he said you have to get evidence, that his dad always said that criminals got away with stuff when there was no evidence. So I started filming it. Mum had one of those little camcorder things, and I filmed him hitting her, over several different nights. Then one night, when it was particularly bad, after he’d shoved me into a wall when I tried to stop him, I called the police. They came while he was still beating her and unfortunately for him, he was doing it in the lounge with the curtains wide open and they saw everything. That coupled with the videos I’d taken assured he went away for a long time, despite my mum refusing to press charges. They didn’t need her to with that evidence.’

Orla stayed quiet, somehow knowing there was more.

‘My mum hated me for what I’d done. She stopped giving me food, saying that Greg always paid for the food and now he wasn’t there, I wasn’t getting any. So I ended up stealing food from shops so I wouldn’t starve. She would shout at me constantly, sometimes slap me. It wasn’t good. Social services were soon alerted. It seems my neighbours were quite happy to turn a blind eye when it was just my dad beating my mum, but not when it was my mum beating me. They took me into emergency care when I was eight and… I never went back. My mum made it very clear she didn’t want me and there were no other relatives, so I stayed in foster care for the next five years.’

‘Shay I’m so sorry you went through that, it sounds horrific.’

He shrugged. ‘It wasn’t the best start in life.’

‘I get why you’re quiet and withdrawn now and the need to be loved,’ she stroked his hand and he looked down, suddenly realising his hand was wrapped in hers. She quickly snatched it away, but he caught it and held it in his again as he stared out to sea.

‘I think I’ve spoken more to you tonight than anyone else I’ve met since I’ve been here. I’ve told you things I’ve barely told anyone,’ Shay said, shaking his head.

‘Well, as the old advert says, ‘It’s good to talk.’

He smiled. ‘Yeah, it is. To the right people.’

They sat in silence for a while as the last of the daylight faded away and the stars peppered the night sky, but he didn’t let go of her hand.

Eventually he looked at his watch. ‘I should probably get you home.’

She looked at her watch and realised it was ten o’clock. Carrie would be wondering where Shay was even if her own parents didn’t care.

She nodded and still holding her hand, he stood up and then led the way back up the stairs. He grabbed his bike, wheeled it back out onto the road and swung his leg over it. She climbed on behind him, holding him tight. He didn’t go over the cliff tops this time, he stuck to the road, which was a slightly longer way back, but probably safer and then rode into the town to get to her house. He pulled up outside and killed the engine. Surprisingly, there was silence from inside the house.

‘Thank you for tonight,’ Orla said, climbing off the back.

‘My pleasure and I’ll speak to Carrie about you staying.’

‘Thank you.’

He hesitated and she wondered, quite bizarrely, if he was thinking about giving her a kiss goodnight, but he simply nodded and drove off.

She watched him go and thought she might just have fallen a little bit in love with Shay Lucas.