The House of Birds and Butterflies. Cressida McLaughlin

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СКАЧАТЬ set off as dusk was falling, and Abby could hear the usual excited whispers behind her as they made their way along the meadow trail. She stopped everyone at the end of the path, where a fence looked out across a field. It was part of Penelope’s estate, and until a few months ago had been let out to a local farmer for cattle grazing. Abby wasn’t sure what had happened to the cows, but now it was empty and, at this time of day when it was in different degrees of shadow, a good spotting place for one of their best nocturnal creatures.

      ‘Now,’ she said quietly, ‘if we’re very lucky, we might just see—’

      ‘There!’ someone whispered loudly. ‘Oh my God!’

      As if on cue, a large, pale bird swooped gracefully over the field, its heart-shaped face clearly visible in the gloom. It was mesmerizing, and almost luminous against the twilight backdrop.

      ‘A barn owl,’ Abby said. ‘There she is. She roosts over in those trees and is seen frequently by visitors and our reserve wardens. She hunts mainly at dawn and dusk, but she’s sometimes out mid-afternoon. The weather can set their hunting patterns off – her feathers aren’t very water resistant, so if it’s raining she avoids flying.’

      ‘She’s magnificent.’

      ‘Stunning.’

      ‘She’s like a phantom,’ said one, younger-sounding visitor. Abby couldn’t disagree.

      She immersed herself in the wildlife and her guests’ interest in it. This was where she was happiest, and a night walk on a cold October evening was somehow easier than one on a summer’s afternoon, because she knew the people who had booked onto it would be a more hardcore breed of nature lover. She wanted to inspire more people, of course, but sometimes it was nice to know that she wouldn’t have to work hard at their enthusiasm, that it was already ingrained. The woodland yielded bats, visible coming out of their bat boxes, flying round in wide circles. Abby had brought her monitor, so she could make their weirdly regular clicks audible, and explain how they used echolocation to navigate and find food in the dark.

      Everyone was fascinated, the questions kept coming and, as they turned back towards the visitor centre, the darkness almost complete, a Chinese water deer bounded across their path, its large ears and white-rimmed nose so distinctive.

      ‘Thank you, wildlife,’ Abby whispered under her breath, as there were low murmurings of delight from those around her.

      In the café, Stephan had produced a batch of zombie brownies, with white and pink marshmallow pieces that looked like flesh oozing through the chocolate. He was poised to make hot drinks, and Abby hovered while everyone tucked in, on hand to answer any more queries.

      One of the youngest visitors on the walk, a girl of about twelve, came up to her.

      ‘All those things tonight, the owl and the bats and the deer, they’re a bit creepy in the dark, aren’t they? You can see why people believe in ghosts. If you didn’t know what a barn owl was, you might think it was something scarier.’

      ‘That’s a very good point,’ Abby said. ‘I bet our native wildlife could explain away lots of spooky sightings.’

      ‘Is there anything else you see that we missed out on?’

      ‘Not really. We were particularly lucky tonight, though we do occasionally see badgers. It’s not that they aren’t there, but they’re so elusive it’s much harder to spot them. I’ve only seen one once, and I’ve been here nearly two years.’ The girl stared at her, her eyes wide with interest, and so she kept going. ‘I was on my way home, and it really made me jump. This huge thing was lumbering through the trees towards me, and suddenly there was this white, striped nose, which was a bit ghostly. We looked at each other for a second, then it changed course, going back into the woods. But I can’t remember the last time any guests or other staff reported seeing one – we’re not usually around in the dead of night.’

      ‘It’s been a brilliant walk, though. Thank you!’ The girl held out her hand and, surprised and touched, Abby shook it.

      ‘Thanks for staying with me,’ Abby said to Stephan as they pulled on their coats. ‘Are you cycling home?’

      Stephan nodded. ‘I’d offer you a lift, except space is quite limited on the saddle.’

      Abby laughed. ‘I’ll be fine. I know the route like the back of my hand, and I’ve got my torch.’

      ‘Still a bit late for you to be heading home alone. I could walk you back, get on my bike from there?’

      ‘Honestly, Stephan, I’m fine.’ She patted his shoulder. ‘It’ll take more than a few ghoulish masks to scare me.’

      They switched off the lights and locked the doors, then wished each other goodnight. Abby listened to the sound of Stephan’s bike wheels whirring down the car park, his headlight bright in the darkness.

      She started walking, taking her usual shortcut through the trees. She wasn’t scared of the dark – she was a night owl herself, only the need to walk Raffle twice a day forcing her out of bed with the sunrise, and she often pottered or watched television until the early hours of the morning. But tonight, after the young girl’s comments, and recalling her own encounter with the badger – a moment that had truly scared her – she found that she was on edge.

      The wind was rustling through the trees, the woodland was never quiet at night, and she couldn’t help picturing Swallowtail House, its dark, hulking shape looming over the village. Her hands shaking slightly, she twisted the back of her torch, checking the beam was on full, pointing it directly ahead, her steps slow and deliberate so she didn’t upend herself over a rock or tree root. It was fine, she told herself; she’d done this so often before. But she wished she had Raffle with her, or even Gavin making ridiculous wisecracks, or Stephan – why hadn’t she taken him up on his offer? It would only have been a few minutes out of his way.

      Something screeched to her left and she copied it, clamping her hand over her mouth at the ridiculous outburst, knowing the instant she’d screamed that it was one tree branch rubbing against another in the wind.

      ‘Come on, Abby, get a grip.’ She surged forwards, seeing the smooth concrete of the road up ahead, and then the glowing, beckoning light of Peacock Cottage. It was just in one downstairs window, but it looked so inviting, so safe, away from the murmuring trees and the darkness creeping in around her. She tried to think of the robins, greenfinches and blackbirds all safe on woody perches, little balls of puffed-up feathers, unconcerned by the wind raging around them. She tried to take strength from her feathered friends, but the pull of the cottage was so strong, her legs automatically turned towards the front door, its bold blue hue hidden in shadow.

      And then she thought of Jack’s smirk as she’d ranted about his car, the way that, despite complaining to her about ridiculous things, he’d been entirely confident and unashamed in his self-centred opinions. She felt again the disquiet of seeing him and Flick Hunter together. Her anger returning, Abby’s train of thought led swiftly and predictably to the fantasy she had conjured up, his strong arms grabbing hold of her, his lips, when they met hers, tender but with clear intent, tasting of lemon-scented Earl Grey tea.

      She disliked Jack, what little she knew of him. Her mind had no right to be gallivanting off in these wayward directions. Angry at herself now as well as him, she was distracted, and as she stepped with relief out of the trees and onto the road she missed the biggest, most obvious tree root and got her foot caught, her СКАЧАТЬ