Cressida McLaughlin - The Lovebirds

‘Nice long walk before work?’ she asked as she fed him, knowing that of course he wanted that, even though it was January and still dark outside.

The cold hit her like a wall, and she zipped her thick jacket up over her fleece and pulled her woolly hat low over her ears. They strolled through the village, Abby’s new torch compensating for the weak glow of the streetlights on the main road. ‘Want to walk round Swallowtail House?’ she asked, and Raffle looked up at her, his tongue hanging out slightly. ‘Of course you do.’

They made their way around the high, redbrick wall, and Abby paused as usual at the gate, shining her torch towards the grand house. She could hear the bark of a deer, the distant call of a tawny owl, the first fluttering of birds as they sensed dawn on the horizon. The bushes behind the house were too dense to walk through, so she took Raffle as far as she could, then turned back, wondering why she had put make-up on when she wasn’t even going into work yet.

‘What am I doing, Raffle? I haven’t seen him for weeks, and I expect he spent his time in London going to posh, glamorous parties and drinking Moët. He probably met a stunning brunette with long legs and a chalet in the south of France, who’s created her own line of intuitive make-up – or something equally mind-bending – and who kissed away all his worries, and they’re going to be blissfully happy and make the world’s most beautiful babies together. I’m sure he’s forgotten that he even asked me out for coffee.’

Raffle whined gently.

‘I know,’ Abby said. ‘I don’t really care. And if I did, it wouldn’t matter. We were standing under mistletoe and he was being a traditionalist. He strikes me as very traditional, doesn’t he you?’ Raffle panted his agreement. ‘Besides, I said he had a squashed frog car, so really, it was over before it even got started. And anyway, these feelings … they’re not real, are they?’ Raffle barked once, loudly, and Abby gave him a treat. ‘You’re a good listener, puppy, you know that?’ Her husky licked her hand in response.

She dropped Raffle at home, had breakfast and left the house for the second time that morning. By the time she got close to Peacock Cottage, she felt like a child on her first day back at school, unsure what would happen or where she’d fit in. Obviously, it wouldn’t be like that in the visitor centre; Rosa would be in the shop, Stephan would be cooking up a storm in the kitchen and Penelope would be in her office, keeping a wary eye on everything.

Abby had firmed up her list of events during her few days off and was hoping to rope Rosa into some technology testing days, where they could take the equipment to the hides and boost visitor numbers at the same time as sales of binoculars and telescopes. She had also planned several guided walks – some focusing on the birds of prey, others on signs of spring. She wanted to show her guests that even in the depths of winter, nature gave you reasons to be joyful – there would be snowdrops and wintersweet, scented and beautiful, and lots of buds that appeared earlier than people realized.

She also had an idea for a larger event in February, which to so many people was the worst time of year, when the winter seemed never-ending. She knew Penelope was expecting something groundbreaking. This one, she hoped, would attract more attention than most, and at least go some way towards putting Meadowsweet back on the map.

No, the worries about the nature reserve’s survival Abby could take in her stride – those, at least, she could do something about. The new term nerves were all centred around Jack.

She approached Peacock Cottage from the back and walked round the house until its quaint front aspect was visible, the blue front door and the hanging basket, the heather blooms long since gone. The Range Rover was parked outside and Abby’s heart jumped. He had come back. He hadn’t been whisked away to somewhere exotic by a glamorous entrepreneur after all.

She was the first one at the visitor centre, so she pulled out her keys and unlocked everything, switching on the lights in the large, airy space.

The Christmas decorations still hung throughout, shimmering in the weak January sun. Abby believed that once Christmas and New Year were done, any decorations should come down straight away, even more so in a public place. She hauled the stepladder out of the storeroom and set to work, carefully unwinding the tinsel, and plucking Octavia’s beautiful handcrafted birds from shelves.

‘Abby, Happy New Year!’ Stephan took off his coat and cycle helmet. ‘Good break?’

‘Lovely thanks, you?’

‘Not too bad. I spent it with my brother’s family, and they’re a riot when they get going. I’m exhausted. Can I get you a tea, or do you want a hand with all that?’

‘Tea would be lovely, thank you!’

‘On it.’

Rosa was the next to arrive, just as Abby had finished de-Christmassing the place.

‘Oh, it’s all come down,’ she said, kissing Abby on the cheek. ‘I’ll miss the tinsel.’

‘New year, new start,’ Abby said. ‘I hope you don’t mind?’

‘Not really. Just trying to hold onto that festive feeling as long as I can. This is always the gloomy bit of the year.’ Rosa’s black curls were loose, fanning out around her like a glossy halo. She looked happy and rested, despite her forlorn thought.

‘We’ll have to brighten it up then, won’t we? Meadowsweet to the rescue!’

Rosa laughed. ‘What’s got into you?’

‘I’m glad to be back, that’s all.’

‘You didn’t have fun?’

Abby wrinkled her nose. ‘It was a bit quiet. Tessa and her family got a sickness bug, and I ended up at Mum’s yesterday, just me and her, which is fine but not what I’d expected.’ She had never enlightened her friends in Meadowgreen about her family history, only told them that she was close to her sister, saw her mum occasionally and her dad barely ever. She wasn’t about to start over-sharing now. ‘Did you have a lovely time with your folks?’

‘Brilliant,’ Rosa confirmed. ‘I’m sorry about yours, though. No wonder you’re glad to be back. And aiming to get a sneaky kiss off someone, I see.’

‘Sorry?’ Abby’s heart skipped a beat.

‘Did you think I wouldn’t notice?’ Rosa pointed at the mistletoe still hanging from the ceiling.

Abby had missed the small piece of foliage that had been so significant that day, after they’d got back from her winter walk. She had held onto Jack’s fleeting kiss as long as she could, the memory becoming more distant as the days passed so that now the sensations were dulled, the feel of his lips on her skin something she tried to reach out for but couldn’t quite grasp, like a coin dropped to the bottom of a fountain.

‘I didn’t notice it,’ Abby said quickly, wishing she could reach up and yank it down, instead of having to go and get the ladder again.

Stephan brought their hot drinks over, and Abby resisted the urge to hug him.

‘How are we all?’ came a voice from the doorway. ‘Re-energized and ready to roll with the punches?’ It was such an un-Penelope like thing to say that they all froze, speechless, as their boss strode into the room, wearing a long, turquoise coat and carrying a red umbrella. Abby thought she looked like Mary Poppins.

‘Yes, Penelope,’ Stephan stuttered. ‘I—’

‘Excellent news. Because this year is not going to be easy on Meadowsweet, but I intend to fight with every fibre of my being, and I need you, my army, to be as galvanized as I am.’

‘Wow,’ Rosa murmured. ‘Rousing speech.’

‘I thought I’d start on a positive note,’ Penelope said. ‘And now, I’m going to go and open the post, and the day will undoubtedly go downhill from there. Stephan?’