The House of Birds and Butterflies

Tessa laughed. ‘Of course you will – they’re children. No risk assessment will ever prepare you for the imaginations of small people.’

‘You think I should stick to a nature theme?’

‘I think,’ Tessa said, picking up a fondant fancy and biting into it, closing her eyes in ecstasy, then waiting until she could speak again, ‘you could theme it around kittens and you’d still end up with some unexpected drawings. Go with horror – at least it’ll be entertaining.’

‘You’re not helping to calm my nerves.’

‘What do you have to be nervous about? You’ve got this, Abby.’

Abby toyed with the yellow icing on her cake. She debated telling Tessa that she thought Penelope’s financial concerns were bigger than she was letting on, that she was beginning to feel the weight of responsibility on her shoulders, and that she had this irritating, left-field problem she was thinking about more than she should be – because how much of a risk was he, really, with his petty notes and his non-existent car damage?

‘There’s just a lot to get done,’ she settled on. ‘But if Willow and Daisy aren’t around, how good are you at drawing bats?’

That evening, once Willow, Daisy and Raffle had worn each other out running around the garden, and two of them were upstairs asleep, and the other was snoring gently in front of the fireplace, ears twitching, Abby, Tessa and Neil sat in the snug living room, a bottle of wine open on the table. Abby had relented and decided to stay over, as she often did, the thought of going back to her homely but silent terrace unappealing after spending time in her sister’s boisterous household.

‘We’ve been watching that Wild Wonders thing on the TV,’ Neil said into an easy silence, earning a slap on the arm from his wife.

‘Ssshhh, no we haven’t. Not every episode, anyway.’ Tessa looked mortified, and Abby laughed.

‘I’ve watched some of it too – I had to know what we were up against.’

‘And what do you think? Does that presenter, what’s-her-name, know anything about nature at all?’

‘Flick Hunter,’ Neil supplied.

‘The name on the tip of every Englishman’s tongue this autumn,’ Abby said. ‘I don’t know. She seems competent enough, and they’ve got a good range of experts to provide the detail. It’s well put together, and it’s a great advertisement for Suffolk nature reserves.’

‘You’re not losing customers because of it?’

Abby wrinkled her nose. A month ago, she would have said no, absolutely not. But over the last couple of weeks the footfall had dropped off, takings had dipped and Abby hadn’t found a reason for it – unless the popularity of the television show was growing, and customers who ordinarily would have taken a punt, picking either Meadowsweet or Reston Marsh for their day out, now automatically chose the latter because they’d heard of it.

‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘Possibly. The thing is, I don’t have the answers, and Penelope won’t like that. She wants to know why we’ve lost visitors, and what I’m doing about it. The drop-off is too vague, too gradual, and I need to work on reversing it. But we’ve got a night-time wildlife walk, mask-making, apple bobbing and now, with our stunning drawing examples, who wouldn’t want to come and see us? If I can make this Halloween event successful, then the ripples will perhaps be enough to get us back on track.’

‘It seems like she’s put a lot of the responsibility on you,’ Tessa said. ‘You’re not the only member of staff.’

Abby shrugged. ‘I know, but Rosa’s got the shop and Stephan’s in charge of the café. My remit is activities, visitor numbers, memberships. It makes sense that I should be the one driving it, but everyone mucks in and comes up with ideas. I’m not on my own.’

‘That’s good,’ Tessa nodded. ‘And all this, for Halloween, is bound to be a sure-fire winner, even without leggy blonde television presenters to lure people in.’

‘I’m blonde,’ Abby said. ‘Not so much of the leggy, though.’

‘You’re gorgeous.’ Tessa drained her wine and reached for the bottle. ‘How’s lovely Ryan in the pub? What did you describe him as – a fuzzy St Bernard?’

‘Subtle, sis.’ Abby rolled her eyes. ‘Ryan’s got a girlfriend, and even if he didn’t, I’m not attracted to him. He’s a friend. They all are.’

‘Yes, I know. Gavin’s married, Marek’s not far off being a granddad and even before this girlfriend development, you couldn’t possibly date Ryan because you couldn’t get past his beard to kiss him. There are excuses for everyone, but I refuse to believe there isn’t someone at that reserve, one of the volunteers maybe, or a guy in the village, who hasn’t piqued your interest. You can’t stay single forever.’

‘Why not, Tessa? Why can’t I be happy, just Raffle and me? Why do I need someone else to complete me?’

‘I’ll open another bottle,’ Neil said quietly, slipping from the room.

‘Of course, I’m not saying that.’ Tessa scooted closer, drawing her knees up in front of her. ‘But I also know that ever since you finished with Darren you’ve stayed away from men and dating as if the mere concept could damage your health. Just because Mum and Dad’s relationship was …’ she searched for the word, ‘… volatile, doesn’t mean we’re going to turn into them. Look at me and Neil.’

‘I know that,’ Abby said, already weary at treading over well-worn ground. ‘But doesn’t it make sense to stay away from relationships that look like they could go that way? With Darren, I let it go on too long, and before that …’ She rubbed her hands over her face. ‘I get it wrong, Tessa. Every time, I go for the guys who aren’t like Neil, who aren’t kind and gentle and decent. And then, it’s as if what happened with Mum and Dad is playing out all over again, that somehow I subconsciously go looking for it.’ Her voice dipped, the pain of those memories still able to hurt her despite the time that had passed. ‘It’s easier if I just stay on my own.’

‘But you got out,’ Tessa protested. ‘You put up with Darren’s crap for far too long, but you left him. You didn’t let it get like Mum and Dad, and you are not the same as them, neither of us are. The way Dad behaved was unforgivable, and you have to give Mum credit for fighting back, even if walking away would have been better for everyone.’

‘Tessa—’

‘I understand your reservations. You haven’t made the best decisions with men in the past, but you can’t let it hamper your whole life. Not every guy is going to be like Darren, or Dad.’

‘Except they’re all I’ve experienced.’

Tessa shook her head. ‘No, Abby. Don’t let Dad’s failings stop you from having a rewarding, healthy relationship. He’s caused both of us – you, especially – enough pain. Don’t give him that satisfaction, too.’

‘But whenever Darren raised his voice, or I lost my temper with him, I thought—’

Tessa took Abby’s hand. ‘No relationship is without arguments; what matters is how you deal with them. Dad never got it right. Darren was an idiot, and those guys before … Abby, it doesn’t mean every man is like that, or they’re the only ones you’ll ever come into contact with. You can’t live your life believing that, because you’ll lose out on so much. You’ve had a bad run of things, but you’re much more settled now, with your house and your wonderful job. I don’t see why a loving relationship can’t follow.’ Tessa gave her an encouraging smile. ‘Besides, you’re going to get overheated about stuff unless you’re the Dalai Lama. You need to build up a head of steam then clear the air sometimes. It’s all part of it, and making up can be the best thing.’ Her smile turned into a cheeky grin, but it faded quickly when Abby didn’t reciprocate.

‘But what if they frustrate you every time they open their mouth?’ Abby said. ‘And you feel this rage building up inside you, and you want to scream and pummel their chest, and then every time you imagine doing that, you picture them taking hold of your arms and silencing you with this kiss, this amazing, powerful kiss, so that you don’t even feel the rain or—’ She stopped suddenly, heat going to her cheeks.

Her sister was staring at her with a look of shocked delight, and Neil was standing in the doorway, open-mouthed, holding a bottle of wine.

‘Who the hell is that?’ Tessa asked.

‘Nobody,’ Abby said hurriedly, stretching her glass out towards Neil, who had recovered and was holding the bottle aloft.

‘Bullshit is it nobody,’ Tessa whispered. ‘That is a very well-formed fantasy, and I need to know right now who the man is.’

‘It isn’t anyone real,’ Abby said. ‘It’s just … Octavia got this book for me, from the library. She clearly believes, as you do, that my sex life is somewhat lacking. Anyway, this ridiculous novel is full of—’ she glanced at Neil, who was intent on his iPhone, his nose almost pressed into the screen. She was embarrassing everyone, though in some ways that was better than continuing the depressing conversation about her parents and her own, less-than-happy relationships. ‘It’s a bit raunchy, that’s all. Not what I’m used to.’

‘With a dashing, infuriating hero who you argue with in the rain?’ Tessa hugged her knees. ‘It sounds like the Pride and Prejudice film with Keira Knightley and Matthew Macfadyen. That scene in the downpour is perfection. Whoever this author is,’ Tessa said, and Abby jolted upright, almost spilling her wine, ‘then they’ve clearly been watching that film. You’ll have to give me the details.’ She glanced at her husband then winked at Abby, and Abby felt all at once like she’d been let off the hook and dug herself a deeper hole.

She wished she’d remembered that film adaptation and pretended it was the reason for her over-excitable imagination. Now she would have to invent an author and a book title that sounded convincing – but then Tessa would look online and not be able to find it, or else she’d have to search through Octavia’s stock and see if she could pick out a book to match, which sounded like a hopeless task, and one which would no doubt result in the rumour being spread around the village that Abby Field was looking for erotic literature.

The irony was that the person who would probably be best at conjuring up novel titles was the one who was responsible for Abby’s ludicrous outburst. If only he hadn’t stood there in the rain, in his expensive jacket with his scowling, sea-blue eyes and perfect jawline, and then pulled her beneath the porch with him, she would never have let her imagination run away with her in front of her sister in the first place.

But as long as she kept it to herself and had no more slip-ups like that, then the unhelpful feelings were bound to go away and Jack Westcoat would simply be her irritating adversary, until he realized the delights of the reserve were too much for him and skulked back to London to write his dark books. She was confident that he would be a short-lived problem, and she would soon be able to tick him off her to-do list for good.

Chapter Six (#ulink_61ba1251-4524-5a89-8fd2-5ad577f3118e)

Contrary to some beliefs, pheasants are not known for damaging cars – unless they fly into them, which sadly happens quite often. They are beautifully coloured game birds, with shiny orange and green feathers, and they have a mechanical walk, as if the floor is cold and they want to make as little contact with it as possible. Their loud call is, perhaps, a bit like a hooting rooster.

— Note from Abby’s notebook

Abby had to admit that Destiny, the face painter she’d hired for the Halloween event, was top-notch. A little boy was running around with his features covered in an intricate web, a sinister spider crouching, poised, at his hairline. The pumpkin faces were terrifying or friendly, depending on the age of the child, and now she was creating a kestrel’s elegant face on a small girl who was sitting impeccably still.

The drawing table was full, the café had been taken over by mask-makers when the sequins and feathers started blowing away in the wind gusting through the picnic area, and there was an air of happy chaos throughout the visitor centre. Abby wondered how the real wildlife was coping, but a quick glance showed her that the coal tits and chaffinches decorating the feeders weren’t remotely bothered by the noise and hubbub.