Birds of a Feather

by Cressida McLaughlin

  Abby woke on Monday morning and for a few blissful seconds had no recollection of the day before. Then it hit her. She stared at the ceiling as sunlight danced patterns across it through the gap in her curtains, then forced herself out of bed to take Raffle for his walk. She got ready for work with a dogged determination, everything on autopilot.

  She took the long way in, not wanting to be faced with Peacock Cottage and its emptiness, but walking past the gate of Swallowtail House was as strong a reminder of her time with Jack. The house looked beautiful in the sunshine, its crumbling stonework and cracked sills not visible at this distance, and it seemed to beckon her towards it. She lifted the hefty padlock Jack had bought, and a lump lodged in her throat.

  She felt winded, like she’d been hit by a car and her breathing was refusing to settle, everything bruised and tender. She was also angry with herself. Was this normal? Had some of Octavia’s air for the dramatic rubbed off on her? She hadn’t felt like this when she had broken it off with Darren. She had been sad, of course, but it had been a relief more than anything. Now she felt hollow, as if she would crack open at the lightest touch.

  ‘Get a grip, Abby,’ she said out loud, and a robin landed on a branch ahead of her, its delicate beak opening, its song firing something inside her, spurring her on.

  The visitor centre was quiet when she arrived, and as she hung up her coat, she heard Stephan whistling ‘Dude Looks Like a Lady’ loudly and tunelessly. He placed a steaming mug of tea on the reception desk.

  ‘Thanks so much, Stephan.’

  ‘Good couple of days off?’ he asked, his eyes finding hers and then flitting away.

  Lead settled in her stomach. ‘You’ve seen?’

  ‘Joyce and Karen came to mine for a roast yesterday and, well, Karen’s a fan of those online news sites – Daily Mail bar of shame and all that. She reads some of the articles out to Joyce. They were quite excited – they had no idea you were involved with Jack.’

  ‘Shit,’ Abby whispered, resting her elbows on the desk. ‘It wasn’t – I’d never met Eddie before. He tricked me.’

  Stephan nodded sympathetically. ‘I thought it would be someone playing silly buggers. Your event with Jack, though, how did that go? Always best to focus on the positives.’

  ‘It was lovely,’ she said. ‘Really lovely. Anyway,’ she added, desperate to change the subject, ‘did you have a nice weekend? I didn’t know you were close to Karen and Joyce.’

  Stephan grinned. ‘We’re getting on, the three of us’ he said. ‘Though I’ve got my sights set on Joyce, as it happens. She’s a wonderful, strong woman, Abby. And so funny. I’m quietly confident that that she feels something for me, too.’

  ‘Stephan, that’s wonderful. I’m so happy for you.’

  ‘I haven’t asked her yet, planning on officially inviting her on a date tomorrow night, scintillating conversation over a large bowl of paella, and I – uh-oh.’ Stephan’s eyes widened, and Abby turned in time to see Penelope striding in, followed closely by Rosa, who levelled her with a meaningful stare.

  ‘The three of you,’ Penelope said without slowing down, ‘in my office in two minutes. No dawdling.’

  ‘Shit,’ Abby muttered again, once Penelope’s door was closed.

  ‘Abby!’ Rosa rushed over to her as she pulled off her coat. ‘What on earth is going on? I saw the paper. Are you OK? What happened?’

  ‘It’s a long story,’ Abby said. ‘But the thing with Eddie, it was false. He made it up as another way to get at Jack.’

  ‘Crap,’ Rosa whispered. ‘And you and Jack?’

  ‘We—’

  ‘Now, ladies,’ Penelope said.

  ‘I’ll tell you later.’ Abby followed Rosa towards the inner sanctum.

  The sun was streaming through the window, hitting the back of Penelope’s head so she looked like she had a halo. Stephan followed Abby and Rosa, carrying a tray of steaming drinks. Abby wasn’t sure that would be enough to mollify their boss who, in a high-necked, navy blouse, her hair scraped into its usual, tight bun, didn’t look like she was in the mood for a natter over tea and cake.

  ‘I was going to keep this discussion between myself and Abby,’ Penelope started once they’d all sat down.But I have decided it’s no use beating around the bush, and that this involves all of you.’

  ‘Penelope, I—’

  ‘I had several important meetings on Friday, one of which was with the bank,’ she said, talking over Abby. ‘And the situation at Meadowsweet isn’t improving. I value all your efforts, and I know you’ve been working hard to keep this place going, however, it hasn’t been enough, and while some publicity is good, some is decidedly not.’

  She didn’t look at Abby, but her meaning was clear. Abby dropped her head, her neck burning.

  ‘Anyway, that is an aside. My meeting with Mr Philpott was before the Sunday papers, and they had no bearing on his decision. We haven’t been making a profit, it’s as simple as that, and I cannot hold off the wolves any longer. I was given a number of options; seek an investor in the reserve or sell off some of its assets. While one of those is much more attractive than the other, I fear I no longer have a choice. Running Meadowsweet has never been about making money, it’s been about protecting the land, the wildlife, giving people the chance to see it, but without any sort of profit, it can’t survive. And now our time has run out.’

  ‘But couldn’t we keep looking for an investor?’ Rosa asked, her palms pressed together.

  ‘Rosa,’ Penelope said, a sigh in her voice, ‘I’ve been trying. A friend of mine has been exploring the options on my behalf, and it’s all been in vain. No, the decision is made. I’m going to have to sell Swallowtail House.’

  There was a stunned silence, and Abby sank lower in her seat, wondering if things could get any worse.

  ‘Will that impact on the reserve?’ Stephan asked eventually.

  Penelope pursed her lips, and Abby could imagine how hard it had been to say those words, to admit that the home she had been happy in with Al, that she had fought so hard to hold on to, was now going to be lost. What happened to the reserve was, perhaps, not the point for her.

  ‘It could do,’ Penelope said. ‘Of course, I own the estate, and am entitled to sell which parts I want, and the house itself is listed. But the grounds directly abut the reserve, and depending on who buys it and what their plans are, it could significantly impact on the harmony, the sanctity of Meadowsweet. Our only option is to move onwards and upwards, and hope that the new owner will be sympathetic to its position.’

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Abby said. ‘I know what the house means to you.’

  ‘Do you?’ Her voice was sharp. ‘Do you have any understanding at all, of Swallowtail, of the reserve and their significance – of Al’s legacy? Because if you did, I believe you wouldn’t have been so casual in your handling of it.’

  ‘Penelope!’ Abby gasped.

  ‘I know Jack Westcoat, of course,’ she continued. ‘I can understand the attraction. But while you’ve been allowing him to take up all your time, you have let us down. Planning events halfheartedly, or leaving it so late that you’re in such a state by the time they come round you’re unable to deal with problems effectively. That is no way to run a public-facing business at the best of times, let alone when it’s in crisis.’

  ‘Now hang on,’ Stephan said.

  ‘Not to mention this latest failing.’ Penelope kept going, ignoring him. ‘While Reston Marsh is bathing in the wholesome publicity of Wild Wonders, you have got yourself embroiled in some sort of scandalous love triangle. I don’t claim to know the truth and I don’t want to know, but this, Abby, is not the kind of press we need. I don’t want you to be the only attraction anyone is interested in. First it was Jack, and now he’s gone back to London, he’s left you in his place. I had hoped, with his departure, the whole debacle would be over.’

  ‘Jack’s gone?’ Rosa asked, flashing Abby a concerned look.

  Abby couldn’t move
, couldn’t blink or breathe or open her mouth to respond to Penelope’s accusations.

  ‘I have been considering your position, Abigail, and I’m struggling to see any reason to keep you on here.’

  There was a beat of silence, and then Rosa and Stephan started talking at once, leaning forward towards their boss.

  ‘Abby’s been brilliant, you can’t get rid of her.’

  ‘The whole thing will fall apart without her!’

  Penelope held a hand up, stopping them. ‘I am still considering it. I’ll make my decision by the end of the week. Now, back to work, all of you. And I mean work, not gossip.’

  They left her office, Stephan retrieving the tray of untouched drinks. Abby was last, and she half-expected Penelope to call her back, to give her a private dressing-down, or maybe ask what had happened with Jack. Leo had obviously been in touch with her, to let her know he was giving up his lease on Peacock Cottage, which was probably another blow to the finances of the estate.

  ‘She’s upset about the house,’ Rosa whispered as they walked slowly to the reception desk, where Maureen was talking to a group of visitors. ‘She’s not going to fire you. It would be a ridiculous, counterproductive move. Either she has no idea how much you really do here, or she’s just angry and can’t think straight. But what happened with Jack?’

  They heard the click of Penelope’s door opening, and Rosa hurried back to the shop.

  Abby took over from Maureen, and then, when reception was quiet, pulled her phone out of her pocket and tapped a text to Rosa.

  It’s a mess. Come to the pub with me later? x

  Her friend’s reply was instant.

  Sure. Xx

  Abby hadn’t had a message from Jack since their parting the day before, but maybe he was feeling as shell-shocked as she was. She hadn’t sent him one either, and how could she now, when she was on the verge of losing her job, when he’d told her that the thought of her striding through the reserve was keeping him going, and very soon she might not even have that?

  Chapter Three

  Many species of ducks, geese and wading birds are only visitors to the UK, coming here for the food and the warmer weather and returning home in the spring. When you hear the honking call of geese above you and look up, you can often see them flying in a V shape. This is so they can get where they need to go more quickly, the bird at the front breaking up the wall of air, like an arrow. When one bird is injured and can no longer fly, family members stay with it, looking after it until it recovers, and then they all set off again together.

  — Note from Abby’s notebook.

  Abby arrived at the pub after collecting Raffle, expecting to find Rosa waiting for her at a table for two. Instead, she was at their usual, large table in the window. And so were Jonny, Stephan, Gavin and Octavia. A pint of lager sat bubbling at the empty place, and Abby, grateful and wary, dropped into the chair, picked up the drink and took a long, fortifying sip.

  ‘Dear Abby,’ Octavia said. ‘You’ve had a trying few days. Come, tell us everything, get it off your chest.’

  ‘What happened with Jack?’ Rosa asked. ‘Why has he gone back to London?’

  ‘Did Penelope really threaten to fire you?’ Jonny added. ‘I can’t believe it. Not after all those events.’

  ‘What the fuck were you doing gracing the front page of the Daily fucking Mirror?’ Gavin finished, his pint hovering close to his lips.

  Abby leant down to stroke Raffle’s head, looking at the expectant faces of her friends, thinking how ironic it was that she’d become the subject of the gossip they loved to share, and wondered if she could bear to go through it with them. But her truth was better than someone else’s speculation or lies – she had come to appreciate that much – and these people who cared about her, who had stood up for her, deserved honesty.

  She told them everything, stopping short of the intimate details of her time with Jack and the extent of her feelings for him, though she was sure they could see how wretched she felt.

  ‘So, Eddie Markham’s a total fucking snake, then,’ Gavin said, returning from the bar with fresh drinks. ‘Did you report him to the police?’

  Abby shook her head. ‘He didn’t have a chance to do anything other than grab me, thanks to Raffle. And the photo made it look like it was consensual.’

  Jonny drummed his fingers on the table. ‘The photo-editing software they have nowadays, they can do almost anything.’

  ‘It’s sick behaviour,’ Octavia said. ‘And you’ve lost your darling Jack because of it.’

  ‘Please don’t be sympathetic,’ Abby whispered. ‘I don’t know if I can take it.’

  Gavin slung his arm around Abby’s shoulders. He smelt of sweat after a day working in the heat of the reserve. ‘You’ll be all right,’ he said. ‘Get pissed, chuck things about, usual break-up stuff. And show Penelope how wrong she is – I can’t believe she said that you hadn’t been working hard enough! What a load of bollocks.’

  ‘Complete and utter bollocks,’ Stephan added vehemently.

  Abby smiled. ‘Thank you – all of you. And I’m sorry if I’ve been distant, or I’ve done anything to deserve Penelope’s accusations. I got … sidetracked. I knew it wasn’t a good idea, but I still did it.’ She rubbed her forehead. The beer was already having an effect, and she fought the urge to lay her head on the table and have a quick nap.

  ‘Still did what, Abby?’ Rosa asked. Abby noticed she was sitting close to Jonny, but that they didn’t touch. Rosa had told her nothing had happened at the camping weekend, that they were becoming friends. She wasn’t sure that was the full story.

  ‘I let Jack distract me,’ she admitted. ‘I let him get under my skin, with all his idiotic complaints and his – his bonkers ideas. Going on a walk to find the best place to hide a body, and then that gala – I’m not cut out for things like that, am I?’

  ‘You looked pretty smokin’ in that photo of the two of you in the paper,’ Gavin interjected.

  ‘I was out of place,’ Abby said, warming to her theme. ‘And the night with the badger, at Peacock Cottage. Why did I go? And bloody Swallowtail House, I mean, what was he thinking – what was I thinking?’ She exhaled, feeling defiant and sick all at once, hating the thought of dismissing the time they’d spent together, but not knowing how else to lessen the ache she’d felt ever since he’d told her he was leaving.

  ‘What about Swallowtail House?’ Stephan asked.

  ‘What did you do at Swallowtail?’ Rosa echoed.

  ‘We, uhm—’

  ‘Darling,’ Octavia said, saving her, ‘you cannot guard against falling in love with someone. Nobody would blame you for that. When it hits, it is completely beyond your control. Whatever your current position on relationships, however you profess to detest the man in question, whatever his history, if it’s meant to be, then you’re at Cupid’s mercy.’

  ‘It’s nothing like that,’ Abby said quickly. ‘Jack and I, we were only …’

  Octavia’s eyes were pools of pity and understanding, and Abby turned away from her friends, staring out of the window at a hot air balloon, a faraway dot of red in the blue of a cloudless sky.

  Gavin gave a low whistle. ‘It’s definitely time for another round.’

  ‘And then we need to come up with a brilliant plan for Abby’s next event,’ Stephan said. ‘If you’re going to get back in Penelope’s good books, you need to show her exactly what you’re capable of. We all know it, and she needs a reminder. Swallowtail House or not, we still have an opportunity to put Meadowsweet back on the map, and it won’t happen without you, Abby. Penelope’s too smart not to realize that.’

  By the time last orders had been called, Abby definitely couldn’t say the words Summer Spectacular without slurring, let alone get her thoughts in a coherent enough order to work out whether everything they’d discussed would even be possible. She said heartfelt goodbyes to Gavin, Rosa, Stephan and Jonny who, as the only one who hadn’t been drinking, was giving the others a
lift home, and then Octavia gripped her arm tightly, and they made slow, unsteady progress along the main road, towards home, Raffle walking patiently alongside.

  ‘I will rescue the reserve,’ Abby said defiantly. ‘I can, can’t I, Octavia?’

  ‘Of course you can, my love. Nobody else better suited to the job.’

  ‘Even without Jack, I can do it. I don’t need him, do I?’

  Octavia’s response to this wasn’t quite as enthusiastic; she simply squeezed Abby’s arm, and patted her hand twice.

  ‘I know,’ Abby said, rolling her eyes. ‘Smile, and you’re halfway there, right?’

  ‘What?’ Octavia asked, perplexed.

  ‘It’s what Penelope says, which is stupid because she never smiles …’ Her words faltered, because that wasn’t the last place she’d heard that phrase. She frowned at Octavia, stumbling slightly as they reached Warbler Cottages.

  Octavia walked with her up her front path, rooting in Abby’s handbag to find her keys while Abby pressed her forehead against the cool wood of her front door.

  ‘I told him not to drown his despair in a bottle of whisky,’ she mumbled, ‘and look at me.’

  Octavia tutted. ‘This is Gavin’s doing. And you’re not the only one who’ll be feeling it in the morning. You weren’t drinking alone, Abby.’

  She sighed and stood up straight when Octavia gently pushed the door open for her. ‘Thanks, Octavia. You’re the best neighbour, you know that? And friend.’

  ‘Go and get some sleep, sweet girl. Don’t fret.’

  Abby nodded, and then waited until Octavia was safely inside her own house before dragging herself up to bed.

  Abby’s first thought when she woke the following morning was that her head was attacking her from the inside out. The second was, smile, and you’re halfway there, and the third was that she had definitely sent Jack a text message when she got in last night. She closed her eyes, but it did nothing to lessen the pain or her crawling sense of shame. What had she said to him? She was almost too afraid to look. And she was never, ever drinking beer again.