Page 2 of Heart of the Wren
I pulled into the farmyard. “I can have a look at the engine for you.” I stood by the front of his vehicle. “Though I don’t know much about these camper vans…”
Dara walked to the rear. “You’re not kidding.” He popped open the boot and grinned. “But honestly, you don’t need to bother. She’s just overheated.” He closed it up again before I could get a look at the engine inside.
“Overheated in this weather?” The sky was a uniform grey and had been for days. Snow had fallen overnight and more was coming.
“I was driving too fast. She doesn't like it when I go over 60. She doesn't like it when I go over 30, come to think of it. It'll be an hour or so until she cools down, then she’ll be right as rain. Maybe two. Three at the most.”
“Were you heading anywhere urgent?”
“Nowhere at all,” Dara said. “I was passing through, passing by, and passing the time.”
“It’s well for some.”
“Hah, I’m of no fixed abode and no gainful employment. I gowherever the winds take me. But if my van won’t start again, I’ll have to go back to doing it on foot.”
???
While I boiled the kettle, Dara sat at the table and lavished attention on the two dogs, petting and chatting away to them as if they were lifelong friends.
“You’re not from around here?” I asked. “’Have you ever worked in this area before?”
Dara shook his head. “No, on both counts.”
“And everything you own is in the van?”
“It’s got everything I need in there. And I don’t need much.”
I dropped two tea bags into a couple of mugs and poured the kettle.
“I see a cottage out the back there,” Dara said. “Have you more people living here with you?”
The cottage in question had seen better days, with its patchy corrugated iron roof and hazy windows.
“Ah, no,” I said. “My parents moved out of there when they built this house.” I returned from the fridge with a bottle of milk and stopped. A break appeared in one of the mugs on the table. I swiftly grabbed it and got it into the sink before it cracked like an eggshell.
Dara’s head flicked to the doorway like a cat watching a mouse before he leaned over my shoulder to inspect the damage. “Did you scald yourself?”
“No, no,” I said. “I’m grand. It was an old mug. Here, you take this one.”
He fixed me with a curious gaze. His eyes were emerald green and they sparkled even in the soft winter light. “Does this sort of thing happen to you a lot?” His voice was comforting, his tone even and warm.
I hesitated. “Only today,” I said.
Chapter 2
LORCAN
I ESCORTED Dara across the farm’s second bridge — this one old, arched, and made of local stone. The dogs followed us, pacing happily alongside him.
“Well, thank you for the hospitality.” He shook my hand, vigorously.
I have to admit I enjoyed the heat in his grip, especially noticeable and welcome on an icy morning. As he made for his van, I walked to the nearest shed. The van’s engine turned and stuttered. Istopped to watch. Again, the van spluttered and rattled until it fell silent.
Dara hopped out of the driver’s seat and hurried to the boot, which he threw open and jumped back from as smoke billowed out. He wiped at the air and coughed as I approached, a lock of his red hair falling over his face.
“An hour or two, you said.” I stood with my hands on my hips. “Right as rain, you said.”
He flashed his infectious grin and I wondered how often he relied on it and how far it had gotten him in life. “I might have been optimistic, there…” The smoke cleared. “It’s going to cost a fortune to get it repaired.”
