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Authors: Geraldine O'Neill

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BOOK: Aisling Gayle
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Anything could happen – and no one would know where she was.

Aisling turned on her heel, gripping her shopping tightly to her and headed for a gift shop further along the street. She walked straight into the shop, and then raced up one aisle and down another, without giving a glance to any of the merchandise. She was suddenly aware of feeling breathless and her heart was pounding. She slowed down, and after a few moments – safely near a pay-desk – she halted and looked towards the shop window.

Then, her hands gripped her bags so tightly that the knuckles turned white.

Just as she had dreaded – there – pressed up against the window – was the brightly coloured Hawaiian shirt.

Aisling willed herself to stay calm, reassuring herself that he wouldn’t dare approach her when she was beside two shop assistants.

He turned now – arms folded casually – to look in at her. Aisling turned away and walked over to stand by an elderly woman who was stacking soft toys on a shelf. She put her shopping bags down, as the books were fairly heavy. Then, just as she was planning on what to say to the woman – something that wouldn’t sound too paranoid or stupid – the shop phone rang. The woman hurriedly dropped the toys and rushed off to answer it.

Aisling stifled a little sigh of dismay. Then, her heart suddenly froze as she felt a heavy hand gripping her shoulder.

Chapter 7

Aisling took a deep breath and then whirled around to face the owner of the heavy hand.

“Hi!” a cheery young voice said. “I called for you – I called at Jean’s house – this morning. To show you medals – my swimming medals!” Thomas Carroll was beaming with delight at meeting up again.

“Oh, Thomas!” Aisling was more than delighted herself. In fact, she was almost faint with relief. She looked over his head, her eyes searching. “Who are you with?”

“Dad,” he said brightly, “I’m with Dad. He’s – he’s over there.” Thomas pointed towards the queue of people at the till.

Thank God
! Aisling said quietly to herself. Then, she stole a quick glance in the direction of the door, and all she saw was a wide expanse of glass. The weird man had gone!

She was still staring when she felt Thomas tug at her hand. “Da-ad! Da-ad! This my buddy, Ash-leen. She’s staying – at Jean’s house.”

Aisling turned to her young companion, still half an
eye on the window. “Sorry, Thomas . . . ” she said distractedl
y, “what did you say?”

“This is my dad!” he said, beaming proudly at her.

Aisling looked above his head to the tall, fairish-haired man he was referring to. He had a light growth of beard that was slightly darker than his longish hair. Their eyes met, and Aisling suddenly found herself completely tongue-tied. She leaned forward to shake hands, forgetting about the bags of books and parcels she had sitting on the floor in front of her. “Oh, sorry!” she cried, stumbling forward..

A large, tanned hand came forward to steady her. “You, okay?” he said in a low, concerned voice.

Aisling straightened up, completely mortified. “I’m really sorry,” she said again. “I’ve just had a bit of a . . .”

His hand came out again now in a handshake before she could explain. “Hi . . . I’m Jameson Carroll – Thomas’s father.”

Aisling nodded, and shook his hand. “Hi,” she said, her face burning. “I’m Aisling Gayle . . . Thomas told me about you yesterday – I met him down at the lake. I heard you calling across to him – something about a burger and a milkshake?” Then, she felt even more uncomfortable at saying such an inane thing.

Jameson Carroll looked back at her without saying anything.

How could she start telling him about the man in the Hawaiian shirt now? He would think she was completely mad. She gave a quick glance at the window, and thankfully, there was no one there. Hopefully he had gone away – so maybe there was no point in mentioning it now.

Thomas pulled a small package from his pocket. “New tie!” he told her loudly, and started to pull the bright red tie from its wrapping.

“Okay, Thomas, put it away now.” His father’s tone was patient but firm. “We don’t want to hold everyone in the shop up.”

Aisling blushed again. “Sorry,” she said blusteringly, “I shouldn’t be holding you up like this.”

Again, Jameson Carroll said nothing. Instantly, Aisling decided that even if the weird man returned, she would definitely not ask this boorish man for help.

She bent now, and quickly sorted out her packages, and in her rush as she stood up again, she dropped one of the smaller bags which had been inside a larger one. She bent to pick it up at the same time as the tall American, and her self-consciousness was increased when their heads collided. Aisling could not bear to look at his face this time. She muttered a ‘thank you’ as he handed her the small bag bearing the name of the ladies’ lingerie shop.

Oh, the embarrassment! Could it possibly get worse
? Aisling thought. A strange man aware that she had bought underwear from a sexy lingerie shop. Thank God she was in America! If this had been one of the men from the village back home, she would have been the butt of suggestive remarks in the local pubs for the next month.

Thomas turned towards her, as they headed out of the shop. “Will you come and see . . . my medals?”

“Pardon?” Aisling stuttered, her mind still cringing from the underwear incident.

“Swimming.” He arms moved in breast-stroke fashion.

“Oh, yes . . . but I’ll have to see Jean,” she said, “when I get back to Lake Savannah. I’ll have to see what plans the others have made.” She gripped her bags tightly. “I’m just not sure . . .”

“That’s okay.” Jameson Carroll’s voice had an icy edge. “I’m sure you have a real busy schedule while you’re over here. Thomas won’t take up your time.” He guided his son firmly through the door. Plainly, he thought that Aisling was giving his son the brush-off.

“I’ll know better tomorrow, Thomas,” she called quickly, “when I’ve had time to check what’s happening.”

But the tall, long-haired American hadn’t heard or wasn’t in the least interested in her explanations. Thomas struggled from under his father’s arm to give her his ‘thumbs-up’ sign, before being propelled down the street.

Aisling wondered what on earth had she done that had made this man so defensive. Surely there was nothing that he could have misconstrued? They had hardly spoken at all. She shook her head now, vaguely deciding which direction to take. She took a few steps into the street when someone moved out from a doorway and stood directly in front of her. It was the man in the Hawaiian shirt.

“Hi,” he said, with a dazzling smile. “Can I take some of the weight from your pretty little arms?” He reached his hands out towards her parcels.

“Don’t touch me,” Aisling heard herself say in a threatening hiss. “Go away!”

She turned around, expecting a crowd to have gathered to see what was going on – but apart from the odd curious glance, nobody paid any attention. Aisling pushed past
him, expecting him to be shocked – but he actually laughed.

“OK, OK!” he said, holding his hands in the air. “I guess I used the wrong tactics . . .”

Aisling started to move away.

“I’m sorry,” he called, coming after her. “Give me another
chance . . . please! I just wanna get to know you.”

Aisling could hear him, but she kept going. Her heart thudding so hard it felt as though it were going to come up into her throat. She kept going, past all the shops and the other people, who were either oblivious as to what was going on – or just simply didn’t care. They were moving down into a busier, more crowded area. Aisling scanned the crowds, silently praying for the familiar faces of her parents or Jean and Bruce. But all the people were strangers, and she was still sure that the man was behind her.

If he didn’t leave her alone soon, she knew that she would have no option but to hit him. She knew that it would be the only way to get rid of him. She was so afraid of him now that she didn’t care what she did – as long as he left her alone. Even if it meant being hauled into an American police station. She could feel the muscles and tendons tighten in her fists as they clenched the handles of the carrier bags.

Yes,
she decided
, if he comes near me again – I’ll hit him with the bag of bo
oks.

Then, two familiar faces appeared. But Aisling’s heart sank rather than soared. It was not her father or Bruce as she had hoped and prayed for. It was the smiling Thomas and his dour-faced father.

In normal circumstances, she would have died rather
than approach them. But these weren’t normal circumstance
s – and the man who was following her was not normal either.

She had no alternative. She walked straight up to the Carrolls – hoping that it looked to the weird man as though she had arranged to meet them.

“I know I’m being a nuisance,” she said to Jameson Carroll, “but there’s a strange man following me – and he’s really frightening me. Can I please just stand here for a few minutes until he goes away?”

Jameson Carroll turned around, and looked down at Aisling’s smaller, trembling figure. The look of disdain slid from his face when he saw the tears welling up in her blue eyes.

His brow creased. “Where is he now?” he asked, his voice concerned.

She dropped her bags on the ground. “He was right behind me . . .” She couldn’t bear to look round, for she suddenly felt weak at the thought of seeing the gaudy shirt again.

He put his hands on her shoulders. “Don’t worry,” he told her. “You’re OK now – but you’re going to have to point him out to me.”

Aisling nodded, wishing she could just collapse into his arms completely.

Then, he turned her back to face into the crowds. He bent his head towards her. “What does he look like?” he said in a quiet tone.

“Tallish and dark – with a moustache,” she said in a breathless voice. “He was wearing a coloured – Hawaiian-type shirt.”

“OK,” Jameson Carroll told her, “there’s no one like that around right now. He must be gone – or hiding.”

Aisling felt the tears come, and this time she could not stop them. “Oh God . . . I’m so sorry . . . I feel so stupid.”

Jameson Carroll bent down and picked up Aisling’s bags. He gave the lighter ones to Thomas, and the ones with the books he hooked on one finger. He put his free arm around Aisling’s shoulder. “Come on,” he said softly, “I think you need a coffee. You’ll feel better after sitting down for a bit.” When Aisling started to protest he smiled and said, “Look, I never get away with bringing this guy
shopping and not having a Coke or a milkshake. We would be stopping anyway.”

“I love Coke and milkshakes,” Thomas gleefully confirmed, pointing to a restaurant further up the street.

“Thank you,” she said, feeling overwhelmingly grateful.

Aisling sank down into a deeply cushioned cane chair while Thomas and his father went up to give the order. Then, she took out her compact and a hanky to check what the damage to her face was.

Her reflection was every bit as bad as she expected. Red eyes and smudged mascara. She wiped away the traces of mascara, and ran a hand over her thick hair. She would have to do, for Jameson Carroll was making his way back to the table now with two tall mugs and saucers. Quickly, she stuffed the compact and hanky back into her handbag.

Jameson stood back to let Thomas put his tall glass of Coke on the table, and then the boy went hurrying back to the counter in a purposeful manner. Jameson set the mugs of coffee down, and slid one across to Aisling.

She could feel his eyes on her now, and momentarily distracted herself by reaching for a spoonful of brown sugar.

Jameson Carroll pulled out two more chairs, and then waited for his son to join them. Thomas was back in a few seconds carrying a basket that held three buns, and a small bowl of whipped cream. Jameson stepped back to let Thomas sit at the table next to Aisling, and then he sat down opposite them.

Thomas reached a pudgy hand out to cover Aisling’s with a comforting squeeze, just as a grown man might. “You – you okay now?” he checked, his innocent eyes staring worriedly into hers. “I guess – you got a scare.”

“Yes, Thomas,” she answered with a weak smile. “I’m okay now.” She spooned some of the cream into her coffee, then held the mug between two hands, staring into the distance.

“Swell,” said Thomas. Reassured, he reached for his Coke.

Jameson Carroll put his own mug down. He sat back in his chair, his eyes moving around the crowds.

Thomas now handed round the basket of buns, and although she didn’t feel in the slightest bit hungry, she picked at one while Thomas regaled her with descriptions of his swimming medals.

Suddenly Jameson sat bolt upright in his chair. “Thomas,” he said quickly, “go up and ask the lady for a clean fork, please.”

“Yessir!” The smiling Thomas was up and on his feet, delighted to be of help.

Aisling’s throat tightened when she saw the serious look back on the American’s face.

“OK,” he said in a low voice, leaning across the table to
Aisling. “What did you say that guy was wearing, Ash . . .?”
His voice tailed off as he struggled to recall her unusual name.

BOOK: Aisling Gayle
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