Breakfast at Darcy's (25 page)

Caitlin exchanges a knowing look with Roxi. ‘But I’m sure he would if you asked him to.’

I smile coyly as I think about Conor. We’ve been spending quite a bit of time together since our walk that day up to the ruins,
and the more I’m with him, the more I want to be. Conor’s laid-back attitude means one moment he’ll be smoothing on his Irish
charm like thick honey on soda bread, and the next he’s disappeared, and I’ll eventually find him all alone on a beach or
perching on a rock with his fishing rod, like one of the island’s cormorants ready at any moment to soar off into the sky.
But his unpredictability is one of the things I like about him; it keeps our relationship fresh and exciting, and his other
attributes that are more immediately visible to the eye are quite a bonus too.

‘You two
are
an item, then?’ Caitlin asks, seeing the look on my face. ‘We thought as much.’

‘Depends what you mean by an
item
,’ I reply, feeling my cheeks beginning to flush. ‘And who’s
we
, anyway?’ I glance at Roxi, who hurriedly turns her face away.

‘Darcy, this is a small community. Two people going for
walks together and sneaking about in and out of each other’s cottages. It’s hardly going to go unnoticed, is it?’

‘I suppose not.’ Especially when certain
other
people begin gossiping about it too. I look towards Roxi again; she’s examining with great concentration the label on a tin
of peas. Roxi detests peas.

‘Good luck to you both, that’s what I say,’ Caitlin continues. ‘He’s a rare-lookin’ fellow, if you like that type.’

‘So I’ve nothing to worry about from you then, Caitlin,’ I say lightly. ‘Conor’s not
your
type?’

Roxi thrusts the can of peas down with such force she almost knocks the display over.

Caitlin smiles. ‘No, you’re quite safe, Darcy. He’s a bit too smooth for me, is Conor with all his blarney.’ And she begins
to load some unpacked boxes up onto the desk.

‘So who
would
be more your type, then?’ Roxi asks, sidling over to join the conversation again.

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Caitlin replies coyly. ‘I don’t really have a type, as such.’

‘Come on, you must have a preference?’ Roxi raises her eyebrows at me while Caitlin reaches for another box. ‘Dark, fair,
tall, short?’

Caitlin shakes her head and turns around for a Stanley knife to undo her boxes.

Roxi gives me a gentle nudge.

‘If you know what you don’t like, you must have some idea about what you do?’ I ask hurriedly.

‘Erm … ’ Caitlin struggles. ‘Someone more … rugged, perhaps?’

‘Like? Give us an example.’ Roxi demands.

‘Look, I really don’t know,’ Caitlin says quickly, stabbing the knife through the tape on the box in front of her and slitting
it open. ‘Just not someone like Conor, all right?’

We watch her blushing profusely as she pulls tins of tuna from the box and begins stacking them up on a shelf behind her.

Roxi purposefully nods her head in a
told ya so
fashion.

‘Right, well, I can’t stand around here all day chatting,’ I say, struggling to slide my big chocolate bar into my raincoat
pocket and heading towards the door. ‘I’ve got to pop over and see how Dermot’s getting on.’

Our eyes shoot back to Caitlin for a reaction. But there’s no flicker as she turns around.

‘Before you both go,’ she says, ‘take one of these.’ She reaches under the counter and pulls out a basket filled with little
coloured pebbles.

‘What for?’ I ask.

‘Please, just do it. I’ll explain in a moment.’

Roxi and I examine the stones. ‘Which one do I pick?’ Roxi asks.

‘Whichever one you feel drawn to,’ Caitlin says mysteriously.

I cast my eyes over the pretty coloured stones. There are purple ones, brown, green, blue – every colour you can think of.
But I’m particularly drawn to a pale pink one.

‘Is this one OK?’ I ask, picking it up to inspect it.

‘I thought that’s what you’d choose,’ Caitlin says knowingly. ‘That’s a rose quartz. It’s a very calming stone. It will help
to heal your heart and inner emotions, and to find love.’

I look again at the pale pink pebble in my hand, and then
I look up at Caitlin. ‘What do you mean?’ I ask, not following her.

She smiles. ‘The stones in my basket are all healing crystals. They each have individual energies that promote healing in
different ways. Most people subconsciously know what they need, and will choose a crystal to suit their purpose without even
knowing they’re doing it.’

‘Ooh, ooh, my turn!’ Roxi says excitedly. ‘I choose … ’ she hovers her hand over the basket, closes her eyes and picks a clear
pebble with no colour.

‘Oh pants, that’s boring, I didn’t mean to pick that one. Let me choose again.’

‘Actually, Roxi, a clear quartz contains every colour inside, and is
the
most powerful crystal there is. It’s a very wise choice.’

Roxi’s chin juts out. ‘I guess that makes it perfect for me, then.’

‘What are we supposed to do with them?’ I ask, looking at the little pink stone in my hand again.

‘Nothing in particular. Just keep them about your person; occasionally hold them in your hand. For instance, your rose quartz
should help you deal with your stress a lot better and with a lot fewer calories than your chocolate habit.’

‘No stress
and
fewer calories than chocolate?’ I toss the little pink stone up and down in my hand. ‘Wow, sounds good. I’ll certainly give
it a try!’ I stick the pebble in my pocket. ‘Right, I’d better get back to the grindstone. I’ll catch you guys later.’

‘Wait, I’m coming too,’ Roxi says, examining her stone very closely with one eye, like it’s a diamond.

‘Remember, Darcy, if you start feeling stressed, just hold onto the rose quartz for a while, it will help, I promise,’ Caitlin
says, nodding.

‘Sure, Caitlin,’ I reply, humouring her. ‘I’ll do that
.
’
Or maybe, just in case, I’ll just make sure I order myself a bit more chocolate next time.

‘Well, what did you make to all that?’ I ask Roxi as we step outside into the fresh air again and walk into the centre of
O’Connell Street.

‘Oh my God, she
so
has the hots for our Mr Cowell.’

‘What?’

‘What she was saying in there,’ Roxi says, blinking at me in amazement, ‘about liking someone more rugged, and all the blushing
and stuff when we pushed her for more info.’

‘Oh, that.’

‘Why? What were you talking about, then?’

‘The stone basket and all the things she was saying,’ I take my pink pebble from my pocket again. ‘Do you think she was serious?’

‘Yeah, probably. Lots of people are into all that kind of stuff, aren’t they? And Caitlin looks the sort.’

‘What sort?’

‘The “let’s heal you from within” type. I’ve met them down the pub a few times. They really believe in all this holistic healing
stuff. I went out with a guy once who was just the same, except with him it was daily meditation and a strict vegan diet.’

‘What happened?’

‘It all fell apart when he caught me listening to my iPod and sneaking a packet of pork scratchings when we were supposed
to be in a session of deep meditation. He didn’t quite get that
my way of reaching deep relaxation is getting on down with a bit of Luther Vandross.’

I laugh. ‘If Caitlin likes Dermot, looks like you win the bet then, Rox.’

‘Ah,’ she says, waving her hand at me. ‘All bets were off ages ago when you started cavorting about with Lover Boy behind
my back. Maybe we should set up a new one.’

‘No,’ I insist. ‘No more bets!’

‘Aw, come on, Darce, it’s so boring here. There’s nothing to do. I tried helping out with the cottages, and look where that
got me.’ She flutters her chipped fingernails at me again.

‘I’ll think of something for you to do.’ I begin to walk away in the direction of the second bank of cottages that are being
refurbished. ‘If it means no more bets, trust me, I will.’

‘Bet you can’t think of something I’ll like doing!’ Roxi calls. ‘After all, you ruined the last deal we had by double-dealing
behind my back with the stakes.’

I march right back over to her. ‘Ooh, you drive a hard bargain, Miss Roxanne Reynolds. Go on then, but only because I’m so
confident I’ll come up with something.’

Roxi grins. ‘If you do, let’s keep my forfeit the same – to kiss Mr Cowell.’ She screws up her nose. ‘You’ve no chance of
finding me something I like doing here – not unless Will Smith pops by for a holiday and he needs a daily masseuse to visit
him for an hour or two.’

‘No way! Dermot’s not going to be the stakes this time. If we’re going to do this let’s make it more interesting … ’

Roxi’s eyes light up. ‘Now that’s what I like to hear! You’ve clearly been spending time in some more …
daring
company of late. What do you have in mind?’

I think for a moment. ‘If I win, and find you something to do here on Tara you enjoy doing, you have to give me your secret
stash of Hotel Chocolat you keep hidden under your bed.’

Roxi’s eyes open almost as wide as her mouth. ‘You know about
that
! What are you, some sort of chocolate sniffer dog, trained to track down the scent of cocoa beans at thirty paces?’

‘You don’t deny it, then?’

Roxi tosses her hair back over her shoulders. ‘No, but I was only hiding it for your own good.’

‘Ha, yeah
right
.’

‘If I’m to give you all my chocolate, it seems only fair that you should have to give up something too.’ Roxi looks challengingly
back at me.

‘Like?’

‘Chocolate.’

‘But I only have this bar,’ I say, tapping the slab of Dairy Milk in my jacket pocket.

‘No, I mean permanently.’

Now it’s my turn for my jaw to drop open.

‘Fair’s fair,’ Roxi sings. ‘If you’re so confident about finding me something … ’

‘No problem,’ I say, grabbing hold of her hand and pumping it up and down. ‘You’ve got yourself a deal!’

‘You’re kidding me –
you
are willing to risk never having chocolate again?’

‘Yep, you’ll see,’ I say, leaving a shocked Roxi standing in the middle of the square while I stride confidently away. ‘Everyone
has a place here on Tara. And I’m going to find one for you!’

*

I happily munch on some squares of chocolate as I head over towards one of the cottages that are being renovated. It’s such
a lovely morning that I pull off my raincoat and wrap it around my waist, walking along in just my jeans and a red Gap sweater
and white t-shirt, enjoying feeling the sun’s rays on me on this beautiful May morning. Dermot and the others really have
done a sterling job over the last month. I can’t really take any credit for the work; I’ve been busy organising other elements
of island life, and planning what’s going to happen when
and if
we ever get more visitors. But I have tried to be of assistance when I can, and I’ve watched the cottages turn one by one
from derelict wrecks into comfortable, cosy dwellings.

‘How’s it going?’ I ask, popping my head around the door of Cottage Seven.

‘Hi, Darcy,’ Siobhan calls, roller in hand, as she and Ryan busily coat a wall in white emulsion. ‘What do you think?’

I have a lot of time for Siobhan and Ryan; they’re a lovely young couple, always keen to pitch in and help – nothing’s ever
too much trouble for them, and they never seem to moan about anything. I think they’re just happy to be here on Tara together,
now they’ve fallen in love and in the most unexpected of places.

I smile warmly at them. ‘It’s looking fantastic, guys! As always, everyone’s doing a great job. Is Dermot around, do you know?’

‘He was going on about roofing tiles the last time I saw him,’ Ryan says, lifting the peak of his cap so he can see me properly.
‘Something about them being loose.’

‘Oh, right. I didn’t notice him outside. I’ll go and take another look.’

Conor wanders through, carrying two tins of paint. ‘Hey, you,’ he says with that cute lopsided smile of his.

‘Hey,’ I reply, smiling coyly back at him.

Siobhan nudges Ryan, and they swiftly return to their painting.

Conor puts the paint down next to them. ‘That should be enough for this room; give me a shout if you need any more.’

‘Cheers, Conor,’ Ryan says. ‘You off now?’ he enquires innocently.

Siobhan fires him a warning look.

‘Yep, think I’ll take a break and get some fresh air in my lungs.’ Conor stretches. ‘You guys have pretty much got this one
covered now.’

Conor nods in the direction of the door, and we both head towards it.

‘See you later,’ I call to them. ‘Thanks for all your hard work.’

‘No problem, Darcy,’ Siobhan smiles at me. ‘Have fun, you two.’

As soon as we get outside, Conor pins me gently up against one of the exterior walls of the cottage. ‘Did you come over here
just to find me?’ he asks. ‘I’ve missed you,’ he leans forward to kiss me.

‘Conor, I only saw you a couple of hours ago,’ I tease, delaying his kiss for a moment. ‘And as much as I miss being with
you, too, I actually came to find Dermot. You being here is a wonderful bonus, though,’ I add when he pouts.

‘A couple of minutes is way too long to be away from you, Darcy,’ Conor says, making sure I can’t delay his kiss any longer
by planting his soft lips firmly on mine.

‘You do realise everyone knows about us,’ I tell him after I’ve enjoyed his lips for a few minutes.

‘Yeah, I’d kind of guessed that,’ Conor says with his arms around me, while he strokes my loose hair back into place. As usual,
the wind has been playing havoc with my locks.

‘Had you? I didn’t know they knew.’

Conor smiles. ‘So innocent,’ he says, kissing the tip of my nose. ‘You never know quite what’s going on underneath this pretty
nose of yours, do you?’

‘I wouldn’t say that,’ I begin to protest. ‘I think I—’

‘Oi, you two!’ I hear suddenly from above. ‘Don’t you know voices carry? Me and Paddy up here are having to listen to all
your loved-up nonsense. You’re like a Mills and Boon audiobook!’