Perhaps she shouldn't enter after all, especially if Deano was having some trouble.
But there again, he may need her help. Especially if this now extremely shrill woman (she was quick enough to establish), was going to cause some trouble.
Deano, in the meantime, was in a real dilemma. He heard Brooke's soft voice outside, above the angry and potentially ear piercing voice of Charity.
Outside was Brooke, wanting to come in. Inside was Charity, refusing to leave and causing such a scene, enough to break the sound barrier.
He didn't want this to happen....
.... but it had.....
..... and he was powerless to stop the forthcoming chain of events.
"For crying out loud Chaz," he thundered, "can you please, put a sock in it and calm down? Enough with the dramatics already. You're giving me a headache."
"Headache?!" snorted Charity, even louder than before, "that's a new one on me. Never gave you any excuses before."
Deano rolled his eyes. From his point of view, there was no way out. It was a firing line, and he just had to stand and take what was thrown at him.
Massaging his temples, he sighed heavily and groaned.
"Chaz, please, don't make this any more difficult than it is. Brooke is coming through that door and your screaming and shouting isn't helping at all. I really can't think straight here with you yelling in my ear."
Planting her hands firmly on her hips, Charity sneered, her pretty face contorted in an evil grin.
"You're in a real fix here," she said, contempt dripping like acid from her tongue, "aren't you?"
They both fell into an uncomfortable silence. The tension between them was so thick, you could cut it with a knife.
In the meantime, Brooke was stalling for time. Convincing herself that what was going on inside, was just an argument, and nothing more. But deep in her heart, in her soul, she knew what Deano was like. He couldn't help himself, falling in love with any pretty girl that batted her eyelashes at him. They'd been down this road too many times recently. Far too many to count on one single hand.
Slowly, ever so slowly, she let her hand slide from the door handle, a single unhurried tear trailed down her cheek and she swallowed hard.
This was going to be the most difficult decision of her life. If she couldn't do it, nobody could.
Swiping her hand across her face, she turned and walked down the trailer steps.
Away from Deano.
And into the big 'unknown'.
She was in deep, pensive thought as she passed the stranger dressed in black, a look of concern written clearly on his face. Her dad was right. Deano was trouble, and she'd been blinded against his faults.
"Hi," said the man in black, "penny for them?"
His voice was soft and gentle, like caressing waves across a sandy beach. She gave him a passing glance and a quick smile.
"Hi," she replied, forcing a brave smile, "nah, it's okay, I'm fine."
Father Thomas realised that this wasn't exactly the right time for introductions, but he really felt for this sad, lonely woman. He offered his hand and automatically she took it, feeling the soft fleshy palm, in places there were callouses. This was a hand that seen some really hard work.
There was something else too, but she couldn't quite place it.
Besides, she was just in the process of letting Deano go, and another relationship so soon, just wouldn't feel right.
Then she saw the dog collar and blushed. A priest. How typical. And at that precise moment too. Perhaps her prayers had been answered. Or was this one of Nature's cruellest jokes?
But looking into this man's impassive face, she couldn't help noticing the finely chiselled bone structure and those gentle grey/green eyes behind those frameless glasses.
His mouth curved up into a gentle smile. But what she noticed most of all, was the fact that he blushed uncontrollably, casting his glance downwards whenever their eyes made contact.
It was plainly obvious that he was extremely shy around people. And judging by his lightly tanned skin, he spent a lot of time working outdoors.
"I'm..... Father Thomas Macguire," he stuttered, his mouth felt dry and he had to force the words.
It had been a while since he'd spoken to a female. Especially a very attractive one too....
"I'm Brooke," she replied, as pleasantly as possible.
Now wasn't exactly the right time for pleasantries, but, she'd been brought up to be polite, and she didn't want to appear rude.
"I live just up the road, Rose Cottage," she blurted out, "you've probably passed it en route here..."
Suddenly her mouth clamped shut. What the hell was she thinking? Giving a complete stranger her home address? Her relationship with Deano had hardly had time to go cold and here she was, practically inviting someone else home for coffee!!!
There was an uncomfortable pause, broken only by Father Thomas coughing softly. He shuffled his feet and glanced at his watch.
"I'd better go," he said hastily, "I'm due at the boarding school, they're expecting me."
"That's okay," Brooke replied, a soft smile played on her lips, "I'd better be heading off home too. It's been quite an eventful day today."
He nodded in agreement and they went their separate ways.
Father Thomas a little more buoyancy in his step, at having met a very pleasant, yet deeply troubled young lady like Brooke.
Brooke, in the meantime, dragged her leaden feet as she made her way home. He mind was in a turmoil, and tears once again started to spill from her eyes. She dreaded the thoughts of being alone. But more to the point, she dreaded telling her father too, knowing that he'd been right all along.
