Читать книгу The House of Birds and Butterflies - Cressida McLaughlin, Cressida McLaughlin - Страница 14

Barn owls are like ghosts in the dusk. Graceful, honey-and-white birds with heart-shaped faces, they glide through the countryside looking for food. They are not the same type of owl as Hedwig in Harry Potter, which is a snowy owl, but I think they’re just as beautiful.

— Note from Abby’s notebook

With Halloween and bonfire night out of the way, Christmas seemed to hurtle towards them, and Abby and Rosa agreed to meet early in the visitor centre one mid-November morning to adorn the space with decorations. As Abby left her house and locked the door she found Octavia at her side, wearing a bright-green coat with white fur trim which, on top of her red hair, made her look like a large Christmas elf.

‘You’re decorating the reserve this morning, aren’t you?’

Abby had a brief vision of trying to hang paper chains from the trees. ‘The visitor centre,’ she said. ‘How did you know?’

‘Oh, something I overheard. I’ve been busy.’ She thrust forward bulging carrier bags, and Abby saw they were full of glittering decorations: baubles, strings of tinsel and birds made out of gold, silver, blue and purple wire. They looked homemade.

Abby stopped worrying about where Octavia had overheard her and Rosa discussing their plans, and whether she had started to bug their phones, because she was too distracted by the beautiful decorations.

‘These are … did you make these? For the reserve?’

‘There are some up in the library too, though book themed rather than avian. I thought it would be nice if Meadowgreen had continuity to its festiveness, and was seen as one harmonious village. I’m hoping to convince Ryan to hang up the offerings I’ve made him in the pub, too.’

‘But how much time did it take you to make all these? And what if it’s all wasted, and Ryan says no? I’m not going to, of course, and Penelope has got more important things to worry about than Christmas decorations, but … won’t you be upset if he rejects them?’

‘Not a worry, pet,’ Octavia said, patting her shoulder. ‘I’ll bring him round.’

Abby could imagine it, too.

They walked to the reserve, Abby taking her usual shortcut, aware that Octavia also knew it, and if she took the detour she had used for the last couple of weeks the older woman would start asking questions. As they got to Peacock Cottage, Octavia’s pace slowed almost comically, and she peered towards the windows. They were dark, the shiny red Range Rover absent from its usual space, and Abby felt a twinge of disappointment as she wondered where Jack had gone, whether he was out shopping or had disappeared back to London for good.

It had been two weeks since he had rescued her from the dark, and then followed it up with his good-humoured note, but since then she hadn’t seen or heard from him and had spent far too much time wondering if he was expecting an answer to his question about her guided walks. She had thought it was rhetorical, but should she have let him know the dates? Had she pushed him away? She had been going around in circles, telling herself it was a good thing, and then feeling a sharp sense of loss that she might have done just that.