‘Ah now they can’t do that, sure. It’s a listed building.’
‘They won’t tear it down, Lucy! They will just put luxury apartments in it! That’s what I heard!’
‘Nooooooo!’
‘Yessssss!’
‘Well I heard it’s a big conglomerate from New York that’s buying it for a hotel chain,’ someone else who is licking stampsand applying them to a huge pile of cards says from the corner.
‘Let’s hope Dan can answer all our questions!’ another person adds.
‘He better have good answers!’ comes from behind the glass.
When I finally reach the top of the queue my ears are still perked. I say, ‘Hi, I have lost a MacBook and some other items up at Castlemoon. Marina at the genealogy centre says people tend to leave lost and found in here?’ Hopefully I stare at the man behind the glass in a flashing reindeer jumper.
‘Nothing in today but give me your name and phone number on here and I’ll let you know if they turn up.’ He pushes a green form through the gap between us. I scribble down my details as he continues to make the same chit-chat to the lengthening queue.
‘Lar, we’re desperate to get these parcels out before cut-off and Storm Faith does arrive. We have to get going to this village meeting.’ A voice in the queue from behind is greeted with rumbles of agreement.
I leave. The wind has whipped up and the snow is sent flying diagonally across Heartwell village.
It’s blowing a very heavy gale now as I fight against it and cross the square. I’m beyond furious with myself. How will I afford a new place to live if I’m unemployed? I can’t recreate the magic I captured with Aaron and Aisling. Anger bubbles up inside. I know for sure I left my satchel in the Sweet Orange Room. Someone definitely took it.
But who?
TWENTY-THREE
Fretting wildly, breathlessly I rush down through the square past Heartwell Hall towards Castlemoon again. I’m intrigued to see Jimmy in a very animated conversation with two men outside the door. Out of nowhere, my mind replays my night inside with Dan and our kiss. More villagers hurriedly file past me and there is an air of urgency about the place. I take a second to catch my breath, hang back and watch Gráinne and Giselle, deep in conversation, head inside arm in arm.
‘What is going on?’ I whisper as I recognise the bald man who was driving the power hose truck and told me to hug the brambles moving a doorstop. Just before the door shuts, without thinking, I slip in.
At the very back of the hall I find the furthest corner bench and I sit quietly. The noise level is ferocious. People are all talking at once with raised voices. I can’t make out what anyone is saying. Then, I watch as Dan steps out onto the stage. Just in front of the couch we sat on together. I slump further down on the hard bench. A complete hush falls over the hall.
‘Thank you all for coming,’ Dan says as the mic gives feedback and hisses. He takes it out of the stand and holds it in his hand, his shoulders slumped forward.
‘What the hell is going on, Dan?’ A man stands up in the firstrow.
‘Sit down, Ben. I will explain all,’ Dan says.
‘Is it sold?’ Another yell from the back. ‘Have you sold the castle?’
Oh no, I think. My eyes open wide and I grip the edges of the bench.
‘Tell us the truth, man. That’s all we ask.’ I recognise Aaron.
Jimmy stands up. ‘We deserve to know, pal.’ His voice is kinder.
‘You can’t do this to our village!’ Another raised voice.
Gráinne jumps up. ‘Can everyone stop shouting at him!’ She throws her hands out wide.
‘He needs to be honest with us!’ a woman yells.
Betsy stands up. ‘What do Esther and Michael say? What does this mean to Heartwell? To our tourism? For my café?’
‘If you will all just let me explain?’ Dan shifts his weight from foot to foot, worry etched on his forehead.
Clare stands up now. ‘Did you sell Castlemoon, Dan, yes or no?’
