Page 104 of Beneath the Quiet

I shiver at the low timbre of his voice. He turns away, and for the second time today, I’m left an unnerved mess.

Only now, I’m also a hot and bothered mess.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Maeve

The day goes by in a whirlwind of colours, scents, and noise.

It seems like the village has grown in size with the sheer number of people visiting for the day. I pass one stall after the other, taking everything in. Everywhere I look, people share greetings and smiles, inviting everyone who wants to see their goods or services inside their stalls. Nobody is in a rush today.

I stumble when a group of children bumps into me and let out a low whistle. The last one of them, a gangly boy barely in his teens, turns back, his hands raised in apology. His floppy fringe falls across his freckled cheeks.

“Sorry, Ma’am.”

I shake my head at the boy. “I’m fine, but you need to be more careful.”

He flashes a smile at me and then scurries after his friends. I crane my neck and look after them, and when I notice them stop at a long line of people in front of a sign that reads, Sweets / Treats, I roll my eyes, my lips twitching.

I shouldn’t be so surprised that I almost got run over by children desperate for a sugar rush.

I pass the same stand I spotted earlier and admired with Roísin, my eyes falling on a pink-and-white-striped cup dotted with tiny strawberries along the sides and the curved handle. A blonde woman smiles hesitantly at me, her eyes flickering as she pushes her hands in the back pockets of her beige jeans, then removes them again to fiddle with a long leather necklace hanging around her neck. A rose-coloured ceramic disc with small, black beads hangs at the end of it, and she keeps running it between her fingers. It’s almost as if she’s using it as a coping mechanism, the same way I do with counting when I sense an anxiety attack is about to hit me. As she turns it six times, then repeats the same number the other way, my instincts tell me that I need to be a bit careful with her.

She worries her lips between her teeth but then seems to muster up some courage and squares her shoulders.

“May I help you?”

I take another step closer to her stand. “I was just admiring your cups.” I glance at her. “You do lovely work. I’m really taken with the strawberry cup.”

This time, when she smiles at me, she looks less nervous, and her shoulders drop. She pushes a strand of her strawberry-blonde hair back up under a large, crocheted bucket hat. I can barely make out her eyes as she keeps her head down.

“Thank you.”

I point at the cup.

“Would it be okay to look at it more closely?”

“Oh, yes, of course.”

She picks it up, handing it to me. I smile in thanks and twist the cup carefully, moving it around to examine it from all angles.

“How much is it?”

“Twenty-nine euros, please.”

“Maeve!”

I turn my head sharply to my right and spot Katie waving at me from Aidan’s farm stand right next to me, and I wave at her before I turn back to seal the deal with the nervous seller.

“I’ll take it, but can you hold on to it for me until later this afternoon? I’ll pay for it now, of course.”

“Yeah, no worries. I’ll make sure to wrap it up for you.”

“Perfect, thanks.”

I push my hand into my handbag to find my purse while she wraps up my new cup. I hand the woman the money and smile at her.

“What’s your name?” She holds a Sharpie in her other hand and points at the parcel. “I’ll make sure to write it down in case I forget it. I’m horrible at names.”