The House of Birds and Butterflies. Cressida McLaughlin

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СКАЧАТЬ making the glasses look like they belonged to a child’s tea set. ‘Can we stop talking shop for five minutes, please?’

      ‘Go on then.’ Marek folded his tanned arms. ‘If you can beat the Wild Wonders gossip then I’ll get the next round in, and a bag of crisps each. Push the boat out.’

      ‘Fine.’ Rosa gave them a wide, confident grin, her dark eyes sparkling, and then delivered her news. ‘Someone’s moving into Peacock Cottage.’

      ‘Oooooh.’ Gavin waved his hands in mock excitement.

      ‘Shut up, Gav,’ Rosa said. ‘It’s good gossip.’

      ‘Why?’

      ‘Because Penelope owns it, obviously, but like the big house up there—’ she pointed, and Abby cut in, her interest piqued by her friend’s news:

      ‘Swallowtail House.’

      ‘Thanks, Abby, like Swallowtail House, it’s been empty ever since I’ve worked on the reserve. So, why is Penelope moving someone in now? And is it someone she knows, or is she renting it out to boost her income, add another string to the Meadowsweet bow?’

      ‘I don’t understand why she doesn’t sell Swallowtail House if the reserve’s in trouble,’ Marek said. ‘That would surely go for a pretty packet and help fund the reserve for a while to come.’

      ‘She won’t,’ Abby said. ‘It’s a reminder of her life with Al, isn’t it? She can’t bear to part with it, that’s what everyone says.’

      ‘It’s a shame she and Al never had children, someone to inherit it or live in it, even if Penelope couldn’t bear to.’ Rosa sipped her wine.

      ‘All these romantic notions are very well and good,’ Gavin said, ‘but can you imagine Penelope with kids? Poor fucking kids!’

      ‘Gavin!’ Abby squealed. ‘You can’t say that. She might have been a wonderful mother; we don’t know her well enough to pass judgement.’

      ‘She could do with a little bit more humanity,’ Rosa said quietly.

      ‘How do you know about Peacock Cottage anyway?’ Abby asked. She wanted to have faith in Penelope. Nobody who cared about wildlife as much as she did, who had – along with her late husband – put all her money into turning her private estate into a nature reserve, could be heartless. But the news about Peacock Cottage was safer ground. No longer would little Red Riding Hood’s gran live there, but someone real. It was good gossip.

      ‘I overheard Penelope on the phone,’ Rosa said. ‘I was in the storeroom getting some more coaster sets out, and the office door blew open a bit. She was talking to some guy called Leo. Said something about them being able to move in whenever they liked, the sooner the better, and that it was a “quiet little cottage that was hardly ever disturbed”. Guys,’ Rosa added, ‘I heard Penelope laughing.’

      There was a moment of stunned silence.

      ‘Laughing?’ Stephan said the word as if it were a foreign language.

      ‘Christ,’ Gavin shook his head. ‘Are you sure it was Penelope?’

      ‘Yup,’ Rosa said. ‘She said something like “He’ll be perfect, Leo. We can see if there’s hope left for either of us.” Maybe she thinks the rent money will go some way to restoring reserve fortunes?’

      ‘She’s not telling the truth about Peacock Cottage, though,’ Marek said. ‘It may look quiet, nestled there in the trees, but visitors go past it all the time. If Penelope’s using that as a selling point, it’s false advertising.’

      ‘And it’s right on the road to the car park,’ Abby added. ‘With cars slowing to go over the speed humps. You didn’t find out who was moving in, though? Or when?’

      ‘Nope,’ Rosa said. ‘We’ll have to wait and see, I guess.’

      Gavin grunted. ‘I expect Octavia knows, has their shoe size, their health history and the exact minute they’re going to pitch up here. She’s probably already picked out a selection of library books for them based on their reading preferences. Bloody woman.’

      There was genuine, hearty laughter round the table, Gavin’s scathing tone being mostly false.

      Octavia, Abby’s next-door neighbour, kept gossip circulating like blood through Meadowgreen’s veins. She had a handle on everything that was happening in the village and, to a certain extent, on the reserve, but her heart was in the right place. The community library would have disappeared a long time ago had it not been for her selfless commitment.

      ‘You’re probably right,’ Rosa said. ‘I’m almost tempted to go and ask her.’

      ‘Imagine if she’s unwittingly rented it to one of the Wild Wonders crew members?’ Marek’s eyes widened.

      ‘Or Flick Hunter herself,’ Stephan added.

      ‘No way,’ Gavin said, breaking off to down his pint in three long gulps. ‘No fucking way would it be that fucking interesting. Come on, guys, this is Meadowsweet we’re talking about here. England’s most sedate fucking visitor attraction. If a squirrel farts it’s the highlight of the day.’

      Abby laughed at Gavin’s crudeness. He, as much as anyone, was dedicated to his job and looking after the wildlife on the reserve, even though he sometimes did a good impression of not caring.

      She felt a slight change in atmosphere round the table. Things were already so precarious with the confirmation of the Wild Wonders team turning up at Reston Marsh, and a new tenant in Peacock Cottage shouldn’t be a massive deal, but she was sure everyone else was having the same thoughts she was.

      Any relative or friend of Penelope’s would stay with her on the Harrier estate – she had enough room in her house there – so it seemed unlikely that was the answer. Had she brought someone in to try and rescue the reserve, a professional project manager because none of them were up to the task? Or could it be someone who was interested in buying the Meadowsweet estate, Swallowtail House and the reserve included, and wanted to spend some time there first, getting the lie of the land? Penelope wasn’t the type to rent her property out to a complete stranger; she was far too private a person for that, unless the financial situation had become so desperate she had no choice.

      That last option would, surely, be the worst of them all, and would suggest they were in even more trouble than Abby had first thought.

       Chapter Three

      

       The Dawn Chorus is when birds start singing very early in the morning, as the sun rises. It’s most notable in the spring and summer – because that’s when birds are most active – and can start as early as four o’clock, which is pretty annoying when you’ve had a late night, but helpful if you’ve forgotten to set the alarm on your phone.

      — Note from Abby’s notebook

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