I know I’m only going to get my heart broken again. I’m going to get hurt and ruin my career in the process if my mind is elsewhere. I’ve worked too long and too hard for a fling in the Irish countryside to kill my chances of getting into that feature writers, room, no matter how great a fling it might be. This thought keeps my mind occupied up the tree-lined avenue untilI reach Castlemoon. Surprised to see reception empty again, I rush inside to collect my stuff and get my work sent off. A few guests are quietly relaxing, reading books as I make my way over to the chair I sat on by the fire earlier.
‘What the—?’ I do a double, then a triple take. My MacBook, Dictaphone and the Canon camera are gone. All my work! ‘Nooooooo,’ I hiss. ‘Okay, okay, don’t panic, someone’s left it behind reception for safekeeping,’ I tell myself as papers shuffle and heads peer above the pages of books.
An instant dread bites me knowing that I haven’t been emailing the article to myself as I go like usual. The WIFI has been sketchy and I just cleared the Canon by downloading my photographs to my desktop. This can’t be happening. How could I have been this stupid? As if on cue, my phone rings.
It’s Amanda.
‘Oh, come on!’ I groan. There are disgruntled noises from the guests now as the intrusion of my ringing phone is disturbing the peace. I slip out to the lobby.
‘How is the article coming? Still good to submit tomorrow?’ My boss’s tone is blunt and professional. Straight to the point, no pleasantries. ‘And don’t forget I need to see the pictures for quality and approval first and any necessary release forms. Plus, Frederick is on the war path.’
‘Eh, yeah, all good here .?.?.’ I move down towards reception.
‘I had to stop him booking a flight for Salma, just email him a bloody report, Maggie!’ her tone raised now, sounding a little more stressed.
‘I’m actually in the middle of something for Frederick. Can I call you back in .?.?.’ I try desperately to get her off the phone, ‘fifteen?’
‘Sure.’ Amanda rings off.
Now where the hell is my stuff? Berating myself that all my work with Aisling and Aaron, Esther and Michael and Kate andJimmy could be lost. Where could my stuff be? Now everything for my article, not to mention my promotion, hangs in the balance.
‘Mary!’ Draping myself over the desk, I’m so relieved to see the older woman back. ‘Please tell me someone handed you in my MacBook, Dictaphone and a camera?’
‘No, lovey.’ Mary, buttoning up her tweed coat, bends slowly to look under the desk.
‘Seriously?’ I hold my cheeks in my hands, dread swirling in the pit of my stomach. ‘Can you look again?’
‘Nothing has ever been stolen from the castle in the twenty-five years I’ve worked here, lovey, I wouldn’t worry. They’ll turn up,’ Mary tries to reassure me in a calm voice.
‘I am worried! What do I do?’ I cry, my head bent.
‘We’ll retrace your steps,’ Mary tells me. ‘Have ya had a little drinky?’ Mary sniffs.
‘Just some wine, but I know I left my belongings in the Sweet Orange Room earlier!’
‘Ah sure the vino can make us all a little forgetful, I’ll put up a notice in Heartwell Hall. I’m on my way there now, to the emergency village meeting.’
‘But I left them here, I know I did!’ I protest. ‘How could I have been so careless?’ I chastise myself. It’s so unlike me, I’m usually so careful with my things. It’s because all you were thinking about was Dan Delaney, the voice in my head says. In fact, all you’ve really been thinking about since you met him is Dan Delaney. Because you’ve never met anyone quite like Dan Delaney. But he lives in Ireland and you live in New York and it’s hopeless!
‘Sometimes the mind plays tricks on us. I’d be fairly certain you left them in the village, lovey. Let’s go!’ Mary grabs me by the elbow and we move to the castle door.
‘I really hope so, I don’t think so, though.’ Steadfastly, Irepeat what I know to be true.
‘It will turn up! Don’t fret, child!’ Mary says, ushering me out of the door before I can even think straight.
We push on through the elements and track back down the driveway and back into Heartwell village. My mind whirrs with the consequences of what it means if my stuff has been stolen. My stomach is like a washing machine as I’m fully panicking now. We retrace my steps back to Marina at the centre. The door is shut so I knock on the window. Marina opens the door.
‘Did I leave anything behind? A laptop? Camera?’ I rush my words.
‘No, sorry, I’ve just cleared up, nothing left here. I won’t make the emergency meeting, Mary. I’m leaving now before the storm comes in. Don’t worry, Maggie, it will turn up. This is Heartwell. Why don’t you pop into the post office, people often hand things in there?’ Marina is buttoning up her coat.
Head down against the driving snow, I see the post office on the corner of the green, its Christmas lights flashing.
‘I’m just going to pop into the pharmacy, lovey, need some painkillers. Then I have to head straight to the village meeting, good luck.’ Mary disappears into the next door.
I take my place in the queue of villagers, wrapped up in hats and scarves, getting last minute Christmas presents weighed and posted off to friends and loved ones.
‘It’s going to be a block of apartments I heard!’ one woman says to another in front of her.
