The Five-Year Plan

‘Oh, yes, I can do that for you, love. It’ll have to be later on this afternoon though, because Ray’s out. I’ll call in for the key on the way past and you can give me the directions then.’

Ringing off, I slide across the bed to go and make myself a cup of tea. It’s slow progress but I manage to get to the kitchen by hopping to the doorway, clinging to the frame, then hopping the rest of the way to the worktop. I’m quietly celebrating my achievement when the doorbell chimes.

‘Hold on,’ I call, stealing myself to get to the door.

‘Take your time,’ a male Irish voice calls back.

Aiden. What the hell is he doing here? It takes a minute or so to cross the short distance from the sofa to the door, but I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face as I open it and see Aiden standing there. He’s leaning against the side of the doorframe, holding up the boot I left behind yesterday.

‘I was going to make a comment about Cinderella, but I’m guessing this isn’t going to fit you right now.’ His eyes twinkle from between thick black lashes as he smiles down at me.

‘No, I don’t think it will.’ I look down at my fat foot and laugh. ‘Thank you for bringing it back. That’s really kind of you.’

He shrugs. ‘You’re welcome. I wanted to see how you’re doing, anyway. Are you managing okay?’

‘Yes, not too bad.’ I hold the door open wider. ‘I was just about to make a cup of tea if you’d like one?’

He raises his eyebrows and smiles. ‘How about I make the tea and you sit down and rest.’

‘That sounds like a good plan. Thank you.’

Shutting the door behind him, he takes my arm to support me as I start to hop to the sofa. Now the shock has worn off and the painkillers are working, I feel more self-conscious about him touching me, but as soon as I’m on the sofa he lets go and his matter-of-fact attitude makes me relax. He moves around my tiny kitchen, setting down mugs and opening doors and drawers in search of tea bags and teaspoons. I watch him curiously. His hair looks less wild today, as though he’s brushed it recently so instead of wild spindly curls, it falls in soft thick waves around his face.

‘I thought you might have someone with you today,’ he says. ‘Did you call anyone?’

‘I phoned my mum before. She’s going to collect my car for me.’

‘And what about helping you around your flat?’ He leans on the kitchen counter and looks at me, drumming his fingers as though he already knows the answer and disapproves.

I shrug. ‘I’ll manage.’

‘You know you need to rest so that you heal quicker. You heard what the doctor said at the hospital.’

‘I know. I’m not about to go for a jog!’

He rolls his eyes. ‘That’s not what I meant but glad to hear it.’ The kettle boils and he pours the water into two mugs. ‘Have you eaten breakfast?’

‘Not yet.’

‘What do you want? Toast? I’ve got to tell you, it’s about all I can make.’

‘Just a bowl of cereal will be fine.’

‘I’ll make you toast and cereal. How does that sound?’ He brings the mug of tea over and pulls the coffee table closer to the sofa so I can reach it easily.

‘You’re very thoughtful,’ I say, touched by his kindness. ‘You really don’t need to go to all this trouble, you know. I caused you enough yesterday.’

‘It’s no trouble,’ he says, returning to the kitchen and putting bread into the toaster. ‘Really, I have purely selfish reasons for doing all this.’

‘Which are?’

‘To alleviate my guilt for scaring you half to death. Honestly, I feel awful.’

‘It’s okay. You didn’t mean to. You were there just waiting for your owl.’ I lift my tea to my lips and blow on it before taking a sip. ‘Although you were in full camouflage which is rather scary. Do you always dress like that?’

‘To photograph animals, I do. It helps me blend in with the surroundings, which is kind of the point of camouflage.’

‘Well, it works.’ I laugh. ‘I was just telling my mum about you actually, she said I shouldn’t be meeting strange men in forests when I’m on my own.’

‘That’s probably good advice. Your mum’s a wise woman.’

‘I told her how good you were though, and she’s very grateful.’

‘Anyone would have done the same.’

‘No, really, you went above and beyond. You didn’t have to stay with me in the hospital, nor bring me home.’

‘Of course I did.’

‘And you definitely didn’t need to go out of your way to bring my boot back and make my breakfast,’ I say, accepting a plate of toast from him. He goes back to the kitchen and pours the muesli into a bowl with some milk. ‘Feel free to help yourself to anything you fancy.’

‘I’ve already eaten, thank you.’

‘I feel like a pig eating all this in front of you.’

‘Don’t be daft. Eat up or I’ll be offended.’ He smiles as he sits in the armchair opposite. The sun coming through the window shines on his hair, making the soft frizzy bits glow like a halo around his head. ‘Did you sleep okay or did the pain keep you awake?’

‘I managed a bit of sleep, but I woke up a few times.’

‘I felt bad about leaving you here alone last night. I kept imagining you stranded in your bed. I gave you loads of liquids then offered you no assistance in getting to the loo.’

‘If it’s any consolation,’ I say, crunching through my toast, ‘I wouldn’t have let you take me to the loo.’

He laughs. ‘You know what I mean. I was just concerned about you. And I was hoping you’d have someone with you today.’

‘My mum’s coming later.’

‘I thought she was getting your car.’

‘She is, but she’s calling in first to see me.’

‘Well, make sure she knows you need help. You shouldn’t struggle on your own when I’m sure you have people around you that want to help.’

‘How do you know that people want to help?’ I wipe toast crumbs from my mouth with my pyjama sleeve before reaching for my mug of tea.

‘Why wouldn’t they?’

I shrug. ‘People have their own lives. You’re very kind, but I’m fine, really.’

‘Sure you are. Is that why you look so pale and tired?’

‘Cheers!’

‘Well, you do. You’ve got dark circles under your eyes.’

‘It’s probably yesterday’s mascara. I didn’t remove my make-up last night.’

He shakes his head and picks up a newspaper. ‘You look knackered.’

I laugh. ‘Any more compliments?’

‘Nice pyjamas?’

‘Thanks.’ I pick up my bowl of muesli and start spooning it into my mouth. I hadn’t realised how hungry I am until I started to eat. Milk dribbles down my chin and onto my pyjama top and I’m relieved that Aiden is reading the paper and not watching me. ‘Can you put the TV on?’ I ask, after a while of sitting in silence. Not that it’s uncomfortable, I just want to watch the news.

‘Of course.’

As he gets up, the doorbell rings. ‘Ah, would this be your mother, do you think?’

‘It’s a bit early. She said she wouldn’t be able to come until later.’ I sit up and try to peer through the window to see if there’s a car parked outside, but I can’t see one. ‘I bet it’s my friend Katie. Can you get it for me?’

Obediently, he goes and answers the door. Sure enough, it’s Katie. From my position on the sofa, I see her jaw drop as she stares up at Aiden in amazement.

‘Hi,’ he says easily. ‘If it’s Orla you’re wanting, she’s laid up on the couch with a badly sprained ankle.’

‘Oh no! Really?’ She peers around the door into the room and looks at me with big round eyes. ‘What happened?’

‘Some eejit jumped out and scared her half to death,’ Aiden says, making me laugh. Katie glances up at him, and I can see she’s wondering who he is.

‘I got my foot stuck in a rabbit hole,’ I tell her. ‘Come in, Katie. This is Aiden. He helped me when I fell and took me to the hospital.’

‘Oh good. At least you had someone with you!’ She comes into the room and sits in the chair that Aiden’s just vacated before leaning forward and peering at my bandaged ankle. ‘Look how big it is! Is that just loads and loads of bandage or is it really that huge?’

‘Bit of both, I expect.’ I spoon up another mouthful of muesli. ‘Katie lives upstairs, Aiden,’ I tell him, covering my mouth so he can’t see the food inside. ‘See, I’m not totally friendless.’

‘Glad to hear it,’ Aiden says, turning to Katie. ‘She needs help, though she won’t admit it or ask for it.’

‘No, she never does,’ Katie says.

‘Ah, a common theme then?’

‘Definitely.’

‘Hey!’ I say, annoyed they’re talking about me like I’m not in the room. ‘I’m okay. I can hop, it’s fine.’

‘I’d like to see you hop holding a cup of tea or a bowl of cereal,’ Aiden says.

‘Shut up and sit back down,’ I tell him. ‘You’re making the place look untidy.’

‘Ah no, you’ve got a friend to help now,’ he says. ‘And I’ve got some things to get from town so I better go. Here, I’ll leave you my number.’ He stoops to scribble his name on my notepad on the table. ‘Call me if you need anything.’ He smiles at me as he straightens up then turns to Katie. ‘Nice to meet you, Katie. Bye now.’

‘Oh my God, who was he?!’ Katie says once he’s gone. She goes to the window to watch him striding down the path towards his truck. ‘He was like … oh my God!’

‘Like what?’ I say, bristling defensively in case she says something negative about him.

‘Totally sexy.’

‘Really?’ Well, that was unexpected! I didn’t think she’d think that at all.

‘Hell yeah! Why? Don’t you think so?’ She turns and looks at me in surprise.

I shrug. ‘I haven’t really thought about him like that. He’s the guy who got me to hospital, watched me vomit, and now has seen me looking like death in my pyjamas.’

‘You don’t look like death! You look sexy and rumpled.’ Sitting back down in the armchair, she tucks her legs beneath her.

‘Well, he told me I did.’

‘I bet he didn’t. What did he say?’

‘He said I looked knackered.’

‘Knackered isn’t like death, Orla. Knackered is sexy and rumpled.’

‘It is not!’ I laugh in disbelief. Katie’s positivity and optimism never fail to amaze me. ‘So, tell me, how did your date go last night? Any good?’

‘Well, let’s put it this way’ – she smiles mischievously – ‘he’s only just gone home.’

‘That good, eh?’

‘Oh, Orla he was just perfect!’ she says dreamily. ‘We got on so well and he paid for my meal and everything. He’s going to call me tonight and hopefully we’ll go out again.’

Suppressing the urge to roll my eyes, I smile and nod encouragingly. This is not an unusual occurrence. Katie goes on lots of dates with men she meets on dating websites, and they are almost always ‘perfect’, until they stop being perfect a few days or weeks down the line. To her credit, she doesn’t spend much time moping about them, she just moves on to the next. Personally, I couldn’t be bothered with the hassle. I don’t even know why she wants a boyfriend so badly. Boyfriends just complicate things. I like being single and not having to share my lovely white bed with some stinky man. If I don’t feel like shaving my legs, then I don’t shave my legs. I can do whatever I like when I like without having to consider anyone else’s feelings. Besides, I’m just too busy for a boyfriend. I often work late in the office, and even go in on the weekend if needed.

Katie’s still talking about last night’s date and I’m happy to listen while I finish my breakfast. She makes more tea and helps me to the toilet, then we watch TV until my mum calls around to collect my car keys.

Katie opens the door and Mum looks horrified when she sees the huge bandage over my swollen foot. ‘You didn’t tell me it was this bad!’ she says, running her hand through her curly blonde hair. That’s where I get mine from – and the wide-set blue eyes. Everyone says we look exactly alike.

‘Well, I did tell you I’d been carried into the hospital by a stranger, so that should tell you a little bit of how bad it is.’

‘But you said it wasn’t broken. I thought you were just being a drama queen.’

‘According to the nurse at the hospital, a sprain can be just as painful as a break,’ I say indignantly. I’m annoyed about the drama queen comment. When have I ever been a drama queen? Well, maybe when I was a teenager, but certainly not recently. ‘It should heal quicker, though,’ I add when I see the worried look cross her face.

‘Do you want me to stay with you? I can take time off work and look after you.’

‘No, you don’t have to do that! You’ve got Ray and Keeley to think about.’ Keeley’s only 10. She’s my half-sister, and I know Mum needs to be at home for her. My stepdad Ray works long hours so it wouldn’t be fair to commandeer her time like that. ‘Besides, I’ve got Katie upstairs if I need help.’

Katie beams and nods. Mum watches me worriedly. ‘Well, I really feel like you should have someone with you. Why don’t you stay with us for a while?’

‘You haven’t got room for me, Mum. Your spare room is full of junk.’

‘We can clear it.’

I laugh, thinking of the car parts that Ray stores in there, and the general junk they’ve accrued over the years. It stopped being my bedroom as soon as I left to go to university at 18. ‘No, you don’t have to go to all that trouble just for me. I’ll be alright.’

Mum gives me a worried look. ‘Well, I can come and sit with you tonight. I’ll get us a Chinese takeaway.’

I perk up at this. ‘That sounds good. Are you sure?’

‘Of course I am. Right, Ray’s waiting outside so I’ll go and get this car of yours. Have you got the address?’

‘Yep.’ I’ve jotted it down on the pad Aiden used to write his number, and I glance at his ungainly scrawl before flipping to the page with the address and ripping it out. ‘Thanks, Mum.’

‘No problem, see you in a bit.’

Katie leaves soon after, and I grab my phone and add Aiden’s number to my contacts. For some reason, having his number gives me a warm feeling inside, and I stare at it for a moment before sending him a text message:

Thanks for everything. Thought you’d like to know that my mum is staying tonight. Orla x

The instant the message goes, I regret the kiss. I want to snatch it back, but it’s already gone, zinging through the ether to his phone. I console myself by thinking he probably won’t receive it anyway; being out in the woods like that, I doubt the phone signal is any good. But within seconds my phone pings with a message:

Good x

Chapter 4

‘So, you’re not coming in today then, Orla?’ Phil says when I phone him on Monday morning and tell him about my ankle.

‘No, I’m sorry but I’ve really hurt my ankle and I won’t be able to make it into the office. I can work from home though.’

‘Is it broken?’

‘No, just badly sprained, but I can’t walk on it yet. It should be better in the next couple of days though.’

‘How did you do it? Out dancing?’

‘No, I did it when I went to interview Aiden on Friday. He’d forgotten we were coming so I went to look for him in the woods and stepped in a rabbit hole. He was really lovely though. Took me to hospital and everything.’

‘Oh my God! Orla! That’s terrible. I’m so sorry.’

‘It’s alright. Just one of those things. I got the interview anyway. Just about to email you the article now.’

‘Oh! Well done!’

‘How was the fire?’

‘Good. The whole place burned to the ground. I got some great photos.’

I laugh. ‘Do you know how morbid that sounds?’

‘Of course, but it’ll make a good story. Besides, no one died so I’m golden. So you’re not planning on suing this guy then?’

‘Why would I sue him? He carried me up a hill to his truck, drove me to hospital, carried me into the hospital, then drove me home afterwards. He couldn’t have done more for me than that.’

‘He could have been up at the farm like he said he would be. Honestly, Orla, if a situation like that ever arises again, don’t go alone. Never put yourself in danger.’

‘I thought that was what being a reporter was all about? Pushing yourself to the limits to get the story.’

‘Maybe when you’re a war correspondent, but not when you’re a trainee reporter for the local rag. Think what would have happened if he was a rapist or a murderer!’

‘Yes, thanks, Phil. I’ve already had this lecture from my mum.’

‘Yeah, well, she’s right. And I feel bad too. I should have cancelled it and we could have gone together another time.’

‘Oh no!’ I say, panicking that he’d think I wasn’t good enough to go off on my own and do solo interviews. ‘It all worked out fine. He was great.’

‘Apart from you injuring yourself.’

‘Yes, but I didn’t break it. I’ll soon be back to normal, I just can’t get into the office today. Is there anything I can do from home?’

‘I’m sure I can find you something, although you can’t make me cups of coffee from home, can you?’ he says gloomily.

‘I’ll make you extra when I come back, how’s that?’

‘I’ll hold you to that. There’s some stuff on the website you can do. We’re supposed to be starting an eco-blog and there’re some old articles on the main website that you can link to it. I’ll email over the details.’

‘Okay, great.’

The web stuff keeps me occupied for the rest of the day. I like doing the web stuff. Phil hates it, but I love the immediacy of it all and the design side is fun. I don’t realise how late it’s got when there’s a knock at the door and Katie lets herself in with the key I’ve given her. She’s just back from work and still dressed in her dental nurse uniform.

‘Hiya!’ she says cheerfully, throwing herself down on the chair opposite. ‘You’ll never guess who I saw walking through town today!’

‘Who?’

‘Your sexy coffee guy from Frothy Coffee.’

‘Ooh did you?’ I perk up. Sexy Coffee Guy is the new barista in the café I call into on the way to work. He’s the most handsome man I’ve ever laid eyes on and always gets my day off to a great start. I don’t know his name and I’m not interested in knowing his name either. I just like to look at him. He’s kind of Italian-looking. Dark hair, dark eyes, smooth dark skin and whiter-than-white teeth that seem to glint when he smiles. He has a lovely smile. Not to mention impressive biceps and pecs that are clearly visible through the tight black T-shirts he always seems to wear. ‘Whereabouts was he?’

‘Just walking past the chemist. I think he’d just finished his shift or something. Here, look, I took a photo on my phone to cheer you up.’

‘You did? Aw that’s so sweet. Not to mention slightly stalkerish. How did you get away with that? Did nobody notice?’

‘Nah, I just pretended to take a selfie. Look, here you go.’ She passes her phone across the table so I can see the slightly blurry shot of Sexy Coffee Man walking down the street.

‘Ooh!’ I peer at the photo, feeling slightly disappointed. It definitely doesn’t have the same effect as seeing him in real life. ‘Is he wearing leather trousers?’

‘Yeah. Rock ’n’ roll, huh! He has a seriously nice butt.’

‘Maybe he rides a motorbike or something?’ I say, doubtfully. I’m not sure I like the whole leather trousers vibe. I don’t normally see the bottom half of him because he’s always behind a counter.

‘Maybe.’ Katie takes back her phone as a message pings in. She spends a couple of seconds reading it before firing off a text and turning her attention back to me. ‘How are you feeling today anyway?’

‘Not so bad. I’ve been working from home.’

‘That’s no good! What’s the point in injuring yourself if you can’t take time off work!’

‘It’s too busy for me to take time off. Besides, I feel fine, I just can’t walk, so there’s no reason why I can’t work.’

‘Hmm, at least you get to stay in your pyjamas all day. Have you even brushed your hair today?’ Katie wrinkles her nose at me. Her own super-straight brown hair hangs glossy and thick to her shoulders.

‘No.’

‘It’s looking a bit greasy. Do you want me to shower you?’

‘No!’ I’m horrified by the thought of her in the shower with me. ‘I’ll shower myself when I’m ready.’

‘Are you sure? There’s no need to be embarrassed, you know. We’re friends, and I used to work in a care home so I’m used to naked bodies.’

I shake my head. ‘Are you trying to say I have the body of a pensioner? No, I’ll manage by myself, thanks.’

‘What if I run you a bath?’

I pull a face. ‘I really can’t be bothered.’

‘Orla! What if that sexy Aiden calls round again? You can’t let him see you like this!’

I frown, feeling offended. It’s her that thinks he’s sexy, not me, and besides his hair wasn’t looking too great the first time I saw him.

‘Besides,’ she goes on, ‘it’ll do you good. You’ll feel better after you wash.’

‘It sounds like far too much effort,’ I groan. ‘Even making something to eat and drink is too much effort.’

‘Well, I can sort that out.’ Katie gets up and goes into the kitchen. ‘What do you want? Coffee?’

‘I’d love a tea, please. And biscuits. Bring me biscuits.’

My phone rings and seeing it’s my mum, I snatch it up and greet her cheerfully. ‘Hi, Mum,’

‘Hello, Orla. Just calling to find out how you are today.’

‘I’m okay, thanks. I worked from home.’

‘Ah that’s good. Better than having to struggle in. Have you managed to have a wash yet?’

I pull a face. What is this? Some kind of conspiracy? ‘Not yet.’

‘Because you were looking a bit grotty when I popped in yesterday.’

‘Are you in cahoots with Katie, or something?’ I say, annoyed that she phoned me especially to tell me to wash.

‘No! I just think you need to keep on top of your hygiene. I’ve been telling Keeley this too. She never wants to go in the shower, but she’s 10 now and really should get into the habit of washing regularly, otherwise she’ll be an adult and still not be washing.’

‘Mum! I do wash usually!’ I say, annoyed to be compared to my pre-pubescent sister. ‘I’m going to have a bath now, as it happens. Katie’s going to run me one.’

Katie beams across the room at me and gives me a thumbs-up.

‘Well, that’s good to hear. Have you heard from your father?’

‘No. Why?’

‘No reason, I just wondered if he’d been in touch recently, that’s all.’

Mum and Dad divorced when I was 14. Mum started seeing Ray soon after and then Keeley was born. Dad moved away and works as a long-distance lorry driver, so I don’t see him often. We talk on the phone occasionally, and he always seems to be in some kind of crisis, lurching from one difficulty to the next. Last time we spoke was about a month ago. He’d just broken up with his girlfriend and was looking for a new place to live. My heart jerks with guilt as I realise I haven’t checked to see if he found anywhere.

‘Have you heard something?’ I say, anxiously. ‘Has something happened?’

‘No, no! I just wondered if you’d told him about your ankle, that’s all.’

‘No. He won’t want to hear about that. He’s got enough on his plate. I’ll phone him though and check he’s okay.’

Mum makes a vague noise of agreement. ‘Right, I’d better go. Enjoy your bath.’

‘Thanks, Mum. Bye.’

Katie goes through to the bathroom and I hear water gushing. I’m annoyed at how everyone’s interfering. Surely, I should be allowed to stew in my own sweat for a few days while my ankle heals. That’s one of the best things about living alone: there’s no one to judge. Unless, of course, you have an interfering friend who lives upstairs.

‘Do you want me to put bath oil in?’ she calls.

‘No thanks, I need to wash my hair.’

‘Whoops, too late.’

I roll my eyes. Why ask if she’s going to do it anyway? ‘Never mind. I’ll use the shower hose.’

‘I can wash your hair for you.’

‘There’s no way you’re washing my hair for me, Katie. I’ll manage.’

‘I told you, I don’t mind nakedness.’ I think of the endless stream of men she has in her flat and think that sounds about right. ‘The human form is a beautiful thing.’ She reappears in the doorway, holding a towel.