Cecelia Ahern - Lyrebird

‘He must have heard you on the radio,’ Bo says. ‘Jack says he sent this without any request from the agency. I would have told you sooner, but I only recently found out.’

Solomon looks down at Bo, notices that she looks thrown together, unusually for her. She looks different, rushed. It’s ten a.m. on a Sunday morning. She got here as soon as she could. He starts to wonder in what circumstances exactly did she find out about the letter from Jack, that would cause her to rush here on a Sunday morning. The familiar jealousy starts to rise within him, like a burning in his chest, but he quells it immediately, hating himself for even thinking like this.

‘I thought it would help with your… options.’ Bo smiles.

‘Yes. Yes, it does, thank you so much.’

Laura stands and wraps her arms around Bo. Bo reciprocates and they stand together on the balcony, embracing. One sorry, one thankful, one redeemed, one restored. Both grateful for each other.

It’s six p.m. when Solomon drives through the entrance gate to Toolin Farm in Gougane Barra. Joe could have been anywhere on his acres of mountainous land, it could have taken them all day to wait for him to return, but Laura is lucky. Joe is mending a fence in front of his house.

He looks up as the car approaches, squints to see who’s inside. An aggressive stare at the possibility of more journalists coming to aggravate him about Lyrebird. Solomon lowers his window and gives him a healthy wave. He seems to relax a little, recognising Solomon and the car. Solomon pulls in at the farmhouse.

Laura looks at Solomon.

‘Take all the time you need,’ he says. ‘Wherever you decide to build your mound, I’ll follow you and watch you.’

She grins. ‘Thank you,’ she whispers, leaning in, lifting her hands to his cheeks. She kisses him, this man she watched and adored, trusted in and followed until she found herself. As soon as she gets out of the car, Ring and a new pup come racing towards her, dancing around her legs with excitement to greet her after their time apart. Solomon gets out of the car, elbows on the roof, to watch her.

She climbs the fence in front of the farmhouse, and walks down the mountainside, hair blowing in the wind as she joins her uncle. He looks at her for a greeting but she doesn’t say a word. Instead she helps him with the fence, lifting the wooden pole from the ground and holding it upright so that he can twist the wires around each other. He watches her for a moment, taking her in, trying to figure her out and what she’s doing here, and then he takes the wire from her and they work together.

When we draw together all the threads available to us to approach an understanding of the Lyrebird, we are imperiously compelled to enter the misty realm where intelligence separates from instinct and merges into a form, however vague, of spiritual consciousness.

The Menura, as we have seen, willingly submits its life to regulation by a definite code of guiding principles.

It has a strong sense of property rights and values.

It respects the territorial rights of its neighbours and defends its own.

It possesses the power to impart ideas by a form of speech.

It is monogamous and is strictly faithful to its mate – even apparently (although that has not yet been exclusively established) after it has been bereaved of its life companion.

It has a deep love of melody, which it is able to express most sweetly with consummate art.

It dances prettily and accompanies its steps with a strange elfin music, spaced with throbbing time-beats which the dancing steps conform.

It is irresistibly attracted to reside in places of supreme loveliness and grandeur filled perennially with the most pleasing perfumes of the bush.

Its nature is amiable and kindly and it has a decidedly sociable disposition.

It is capable of loyal friendship with human beings, but its friendship cannot be won – as that of all other wild creatures – with offerings of food.

Its domestic life is exemplary and never disfigured by quarrels.

Ambrose Pratt, The Lore of the Lyrebird

It is with thanks to the insightful musings of Ambrose Pratt in The Lore of the Lyrebird that I was able to immerse myself in the world of the lyrebird, this peculiar quirky little bird that I fell in love with. Pratt’s obvious love, curiosity and admiration for the lyrebird, and The Lyrebird – Australia’s wonder-songster by R.T. Littlejohns, allowed me to take the characteristics and traits of a lyrebird and build my Laura, a woman with her own unique and powerful lore.

Enormous thanks to my little family; David, Robin and Sonny. Thanks for your support, your love, your energy. My heart is full because of you all.

Thank you my beautiful parents, Georgina, Nicky, my patient bonkers friends, Marianne Gunn O’Connor, Lynne Drew, Martha Ashby, Liz Dawson, Charlie Redmayne, Kate Elton, Roger Cazalet, Tony Purdue, Mary Byrne, Ann-Marie Dolan and the entire HarperCollins team for your creativity and support. I appreciate you all so much.

To the readers, thanks for going on a new adventure with me. I hope you all enjoy the journey as much as I have.

Cecelia Ahern was born and grew up in Dublin. She is now published in nearly fifty countries, and has sold over twenty-five million copies of her novels worldwide. Two of her books have been adapted as films and she has created several TV series. She and her books have won numerous awards, including the Irish Book Award for Popular Fiction for The Year I Met You .

For more information on Cecelia, her writing, books and events, follow her on Twitter @Cecelia_ Ahern, join her on Facebook www.facebook.com/‌CeceliaAhe‌rnofficial and visit her website www.cecelia-ahern.com, where she would love to hear from you.