The House of Birds and Butterflies. Cressida McLaughlin
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Название: The House of Birds and Butterflies

Автор: Cressida McLaughlin

Издательство: HarperCollins

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isbn: 9780008225858

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СКАЧАТЬ frowned and ran a hand over his jaw. ‘Brave?’

      ‘Your cottage is in the middle of the woods,’ she clarified. ‘I’m a fan of nature, as you know, but if I lived somewhere like that, there is no way I’d step outside after dark in response to a noise, not unless I had a weapon with me, not even if it sounded like there was a fairground starting up right outside the front door. I was only there because I had no choice. If we were in opposite places, I wouldn’t have come to your rescue, I would have left you to get eaten by bears, or make your own way home, whatever.’

      ‘Which, I seem to recall, is pretty much what you wanted me to do when I found you.’

      Abby felt the flush creep up her neck and was glad of the darkness. ‘Sorry about that. I was flustered, annoyed with myself for getting scared, and—’

      ‘I was the last person you hoped to see?’

      ‘You were inevitable, considering where I tripped.’

      Jack laughed, the sound loud inside the confines of the car. ‘I was inevitable?’

      ‘God, that came out wrong! I just meant nobody else would be around, only you.’ The words somehow had more weight than she had intended, and she scrabbled to change the subject. ‘I saw you venturing out into the village today.’

      He nodded, not quite meeting her eye. ‘I know Flick Hunter from a charity event we did a couple of years ago,’ he said. ‘I didn’t realize she was here, but it was good to see her. A friendly face amongst, well—’ he gestured around him. ‘I’m new here, as you know.’

      ‘She’s anchoring the television show at the nature reserve on the other side of the marsh,’ Abby said quietly.

      ‘She was telling me about it. Has it affected things at Meadowsweet?’

      ‘Not really,’ Abby admitted. ‘Not that noticeably, anyway. We need to be more proactive about drawing in visitors regardless, so in some ways the push has been good.’

      Jack stared out of the windscreen. ‘That’s often the way, getting forced in a direction you never intended, finding out that it was the right move all along.’ He faced her again. ‘Let’s hope it works out for both of us.’

      Abby wanted to ask more, to connect the dots between his words and what Rosa and Octavia had told her about him, but she didn’t want to seem nosy, and now, with Raffle waiting inside and her bed calling to her weary bones, wasn’t the time. ‘I’ll keep my fingers crossed,’ she said. ‘Thanks again for rescuing me. Your car’s comfortable, by the way.’

      ‘Noted.’ He nodded, suppressing a smile, his lips lifting at the corners. Abby wondered if she’d conjured them up right in her fantasy, how the lips she was staring at would feel if they were pressed against hers.

      ‘Right then,’ she said, her voice paper-thin. ‘Night.’

      ‘Goodnight, Abby.’ He waited until she’d closed the door, walked up the front path and put her key in the lock. She stepped into her warm, vanilla-scented hallway and turned. He made a gesture that was half wave, half salute, and pulled away from the kerb.

      When she fell into a fitful, broken sleep that night, the memory of her fall enhanced by the smarting of her palms, all she could think about was Jack running his hands up her arms, and the concern in his eyes when he’d knelt beside her in the mud.

      When she woke the following morning, Abby felt like she hadn’t had any sleep at all. She took a longer route to work, walking along the brick wall around Swallowtail House, getting that extra peek of the building that intrigued and calmed her. The wind was still raging, low clouds racing across the sky so the sun had no chance to break through, but it never stopped the wildlife, and Abby paused to watch a pair of goldfinches, their regally coloured feathers flashes of bright in the grey. They bobbed along the high wall then disappeared over it, into a place she longed to explore.

      She wasn’t the only one who wondered why, if the reserve was in trouble, and Penelope no longer wanted to live in the grand mansion, she didn’t sell it. Did she really hold onto it simply because it was a reminder of her and Al’s life together? And if that was the case, then why wasn’t she looking after it? The longer it was left, the less likely it was to survive at all. If Penelope wanted to preserve it then handing it over to someone else, and making a profit in the process, would surely be for the best.

      But she couldn’t suggest it. The older woman would have considered it, would have her own reasons for handling things the way she did, and wouldn’t have listened to Abby in any case. Perhaps selling the house had some implications for the reserve, as it was all part of the same estate. She turned away from it and fought her way through the fallen elder to get back onto Meadowsweet’s woodland track.

      She didn’t know why she wanted to avoid the sight of last night’s fall, but she felt off kilter, uncomfortable despite the success of the previous day’s event. She was gratified that the only disaster had come at her own hands, had harmed nobody but herself, but still she wished that, if there had to have been a witness, it could have been anyone but Jack. And yet, in some ways, she was glad it had happened. She couldn’t help but replay their encounter, the softening between them in his car a reconciliation of sorts. There had been no sign of Flick Hunter at Peacock Cottage, and he’d offered up the information about her freely, as if Abby deserved an explanation. She felt as if she was at the edge of a tunnel, knowing she should turn back but desperate to see where it led.

      When she arrived at the visitor centre, she had a welcoming committee.

      Penelope was standing at the reception desk, her arms folded accusingly, and Rosa and Stephan were in the shop, pretending to rearrange the display of Halloween chocolates but obviously waiting for whatever dressing-down was about to be handed out. Gavin, never one for subtlety, was leaning against the wall, a piece of grass in his mouth in place of a cigarette. When she caught his eye, he winced sympathetically.

      Abby slowed, putting her hands behind her back, suddenly conscious of the grazes on her palms even though, now they were clean, they were hardly visible.

      ‘What’s going on?’ she asked. ‘Is there – did something happen, yesterday?’

      ‘I don’t know,’ Penelope said. ‘Why don’t you tell me?’

      She put the emphasis on the last word, glaring at Stephan, Rosa and then Gavin, reminding them this wasn’t a spectacle, but none of them budged and Abby was thankful. She knew that, as embarrassing as it was to be reprimanded in front of her friends, they would also back her up if they could. The only thing was, Abby couldn’t think what this could possibly be about. The event had gone smoothly. Unless Gavin had let those boys go too far with the apple bobbing and failed to tell her about it.

      ‘I’m not sure what there is to say,’ she said slowly, casting around for anything that might help her understand what had happened.

      ‘Well, would you like to explain this?’ Penelope put something down on the desk. It was an envelope. White, pristine and, when Abby looked closely, sealed.

      ‘You haven’t opened it?’

      ‘Of course not,’ Penelope said. ‘It’s addressed to you. But I doubt whatever is inside will be particularly complimentary, going by the last one we received.’

      Her insides suddenly churning, Abby turned the envelope СКАЧАТЬ