by Holly Martin
‘So what is it you do?’
Nix turned the sausages over. ‘You mean other than bum around in Judy?’
‘There’s nothing wrong with bumming around. My old grandad had one of those brightly painted wooden gypsy caravans and a beautiful horse called Thunder. He would travel from town to town, spend a few days in each place. He’d carve little ornaments out of wood and paint pictures of local attractions and then sell them on. Some days he’d make enough to have dinner in the pub, some days he’d make enough to buy a can of beans and a loaf of bread, but he was happy. No responsibilities, no job, no bills to pay beyond food for the horse and a gas canister for the stove. Maybe it’s romantic and silly but I always fancied living that way.’
Lyra had yearned after that lifestyle even more when she’d been forced into a life of responsibility. Things hadn’t turned out how she’d hoped. Not even close.
‘It’s not silly at all,’ Nix said. ‘I have Judy and I have a small boat – which you’ll be pleased to know does have a name – and I’m never happier than when I throw my things in Judy and hit the road, or lift anchor and set sail, see where the wind takes me. It’s peaceful. Me, Dex, the sun sparkling off the waves. There’s no greater feeling than that.’
She smiled. They were kindred spirits. In a way. The only difference was that Nix had actively pursued that path, whereas she actively avoided it, always dreaming of that lifestyle but never doing anything to achieve it. Dreams were nice but reality was safer.
‘I love the sound of that,’ Lyra said. ‘As a child I always thought that way of life was wonderful. I wanted adventure. I envisaged I would be the next Indiana Jones, seeking out lost treasure and going on exciting quests, travelling around the world.’
‘What happened to that dream?’
She smiled – answering that would mean opening a can of worms. But she could skirt around it easily enough. ‘Well, it turns out there aren’t too many Indiana Jones jobs in the real world. Searching for lost treasure doesn’t pay that well.’
‘Oh, I imagine it pays very well. Finding lost emeralds and diamonds is surely very profitable,’ Nix said.
‘Ah, you have to find them first.’
‘I think that’s about knowing where to look. Sometimes you can find the most amazing things when you least expect them.’
His eyes were locked with hers and her breath caught in her throat. There was something wonderfully exciting about Nix but that scared her a little. She didn’t want exciting. Or rather, there was still a part of her that did but, as that was the kind of person her mum was, she’d spent all of her adult life shunning it.
‘What’s your boat’s name?’ Lyra asked, needing to change the subject.
‘Serendipity.’
Lyra choked on her wine.
‘I know you might think it’s silly but I’ve always believed in fate, in being exactly where I’m meant to be. It seemed fitting.’
‘Oh no, I agree. My grandad always used to say, “What’s meant for you won’t pass by you.” And I’ve always believed that the things that happen to you, the important things anyway, are destined to happen, in some way. I wasn’t laughing at your boat’s name. It’s just that… Serendipity is my first name, but I’ve always hated it, so I go by my middle name, Lyra, instead.’
His face lit up into a big smile. ‘Well maybe it was serendipitous that we met.’
It was a line she had heard many times, meeting men in pubs. They thought it was funny but it just made her cringe. But for some reason, sitting here with Nix, as the sun was setting over the waves, hearing him say it felt significant somehow.
She smiled. ‘Maybe.’
‘For what it’s worth, I think Serendipity is a beautiful name. Why don’t you like it?’
Now that was another conversation she didn’t really want to have. Her mum had named her for the carefree life she wanted for herself and that was something Lyra had resented when she’d got older.
‘I think the life my mum wanted for me when she named me turned out to be very different to the one I have.’
That was a vague answer and one that visibly piqued Nix’s curiosity, judging by his expression.
‘When I grew up, Serendipity didn’t seem appropriate any more. And it was always a bit of a mouthful anyway. My brothers and sisters always affectionately called me Lyra so I just went with that. When we do speak, Mum still calls me by my first name, almost as a reminder of who I could be.’
‘I don’t think there’s anything wrong with the person you are, Lyra. I mean, we’ve just met but you seem lovely.’
‘I think if Mum had her way, I’d be sitting with her on a beach in Thailand, probably smoking something dubious, drinking copious cocktails and sleeping with a different man every night.’
Nix’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Well, your mum sounds like a character.’
Lyra nodded. ‘That’s one way of putting it.’
Nix dished up the sausages into white fluffy rolls and then put a dollop of what must be the much-lauded onion chutney on the side. He passed her the plate.
‘So if we are going to leave the rat race and follow the open road together, how would we pay for our food?’ he said as he sat down opposite her, and she was relieved he had changed the subject. ‘I’m not good at carving or painting so I’m not sure how I would make enough to eat otherwise. And Dexter eats a lot of food. If he was to rely on my artistic side, we’d both go hungry.’
Lyra laughed. ‘Me too. Sadly I didn’t get that gene passed down from my grandad.’
Everyone said she was like her nan who had liked everything just so, which made her cringe a little. Her nan’s favourite saying had been A place for everything and everything in its place. Her grandparents’ house was always spotlessly clean and ordered. It was little wonder that, when her nan died, her grandad had sold the house and escaped in his little caravan, to finally have the freedom to do whatever he wanted. When Lyra was younger she’d felt she’d been destined to follow in her grandad’s footsteps, to have a life of chance and adventure, but that had been silly, whimsical and unrealistic. When she was older and her mum had… retired from parenthood, her nan’s genes had well and truly kicked in. She’d had to take life more seriously. Although she missed the freedom, she felt life always ran a lot smoother when there was a schedule or a plan.
Lyra realised Nix was still pondering over how they would make their money.
‘I think you could probably sell your chutney and your wine,’ she said, gesturing with her glass before taking a drink.
‘I could, but there’s not much room for my wine-making equipment in the back of Judy.’
‘Well, if we’re going to hit the open road together, we might need a roof rack and a trailer. I come with a lot of stuff.’
‘You don’t strike me as the shoes-and-handbags kind of girl,’ Nix said, taking a bite of his sausage.
‘No, books mainly. I have hundreds of books.’
‘Ah. Would you be mortally offended if I bought you a Kindle for our adventure?’
She clutched her heart as if she’d been stabbed and he laughed. ‘OK, we can get a roof rack for Judy and all your books. So if I’m cooking and selling chutney and wine, what are you bringing to the table?’
She took a bite of her sausage as she thought. What did she really have to offer? The ability to organise things down to the finest detail. It probably wasn’t the spirit of adventure that Nix was looking for.
She grabbed the remains of her dress and draped them over her head like a shawl. ‘I could tell people’s fortunes.’
She immediately regretted doing that. She had a silly sense of humour and some people thought she was strange. She hadn’t known Nix long enough to expose him to it.
But he was nodding, seemingly taking this seriously. ‘Now I like the idea of that. If you can see into the future, we could buy the winning lottery ticket. We’d never need to worry about working again.’
‘So do I get the job?’
‘Lyra, I get the feeling you’d be a great addition to our team.’
She took another bite of her sausage as she watched him, his eyes locked on hers as he ate. Something was happening here and she got the feeling it was something wonderful. And that scared her a little. She certainly wasn’t looking to get involved in any kind of relationship. She smiled and shook her head. Her sister, Michelle, always said she got carried away, always seeing what she wanted to see. This was a sausage sandwich with a nice man, she didn’t need to make it into something bigger.
She looked away from Nix’s amber-coloured eyes, needing to focus on something, anything else. The field sloped away to a small lake at the bottom, which reflected the dusky sky like a mirror. Wild poppies of every colour danced from the trees and bushes at the side of the field. It looked idyllic. As the sun left plum and tangerine trails across the sky, it couldn’t have been more perfect.
‘This is a lovely place to camp.’ Lyra looked around, realising that Nix was the only one camping here and there didn’t appear to be any kind of facilities at all. She gasped theatrically. ‘Are you camping illegally on private land?’
Nix laughed. ‘It is private land but… well, I own it so I’m pretty sure I’m allowed.’
‘This is yours?’
‘Yes, five acres in that direction,’ he gestured with his hand.
‘Wow.’ Lyra looked down at the meadows and fields that followed the course of the river as it meandered down towards the sea. It was tranquil and peaceful. If she owned this, she’d spend every night up here, sitting in this chair looking out on the view.
‘Don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m rich. I spent every penny I had on buying this land and every penny I didn’t. I sold my house, sold almost everything I owned. I now live in Judy or Serendipity, for the time being. Definitely more bum than billionaire.’
Lyra frowned. ‘I wasn’t thinking about your wealth. I was thinking how lucky you are to own all this. This is a very beautiful part of the world. Strangely, when I meet someone, their wealth has nothing to do with whether I want to get to know them better. Generally I choose my friends because they are kind or fun to be with, not because of how much money they have in their pocket.’
‘Sorry,’ Nix said. ‘I’m used to meeting women in pubs whose eyes practically light up with pound signs when they hear I own land. I bought it to help the important work that the Countryside Trust are doing. It was never about financial gain.’
‘See, that makes you infinitely more interesting than if you were just a boring billionaire.’
He grinned. ‘I am sorry Lyra; I shouldn’t judge you on other people’s reactions.’
‘It’s fine. I’m just glad you’re not here illegally. I thought I might have to call the police then for a minute.’
His mouth twitched into a smile. ‘Are you a bit of a stickler for the rules? I have to say, when you entered my life in such a dramatic fashion earlier, I kind of figured you for a bit of a rebel.’
She spooned a bit of the chutney onto her second roll and took a bite to buy herself some time. She wasn’t sure what to say, because that didn’t actually sound like her at all. ‘Mmm, this is amazing.’
‘I’ve been perfecting that recipe over many, many years.’
‘Well, I think you’re pretty damn close to it being perfect,’ Lyra said.
‘Pretty damn close,’ Nix echoed in disbelief. ‘I don’t get ten out of ten?’
‘I’d give you nine and a half. If I give you ten, you’ve got nowhere else to go, nothing to strive towards.’
He grinned and took another bite of his own sausage. ‘I’ll take that challenge.’ He chewed slowly, clearly deliberating over it. ‘Maybe it could do with a bit more ginger.’
‘Maybe.’ She licked a drop of chutney off her finger, considering it. ‘So what kind of work are you doing here with the trust?’
‘Well, that would be top secret and I’m not sure I can trust you,’ Nix teased.
‘Now that does sound intriguing. So… you’re working with a protected species. Bats?’
‘No, but we may see some tonight.’
She tried to think of other endangered animals. ‘Is it some kind of rare bug?’
‘No, I’m not really into bugs. I mean, they play an important part in the ecosystem, but I’ve always been interested in bigger animals.’
Lyra finished off her roll as she thought. ‘I know, hedgehogs… no, red squirrels.’
‘Red squirrels in Cornwall would be very rare indeed.’ Nix licked his fingers and she felt her eyes drawn to his tongue as he licked his lips.
She glanced down to the lake. Maybe that had something to do with why Nix was here. ‘A newt or toad?’
‘No, but you’re right to focus on the water.’
She gasped. ‘Is it Nessie?’
Nix laughed. ‘Well, as you’re an honorary member of the trust tonight,’ he gestured to the t-shirt she was wearing, ‘why don’t I show you? They should be making an appearance right about now.’
‘Oh, so they’re a nocturnal animal.’
‘The best time to see them is at dusk. I’ve been watching them here for the last three nights. Let me just put Dexter in the van. Can’t have him chasing them away.’
Nix grabbed another sausage from the barbeque and encouraged Dexter back inside.
He looked back at her, his eyes casting down her legs in what felt like an intimate way. ‘It’s quite boggy down this side of the lake, I fear your poor sandals may get ruined. I have a spare pair of wellies. They’ll probably be a bit big for you but better that than your feet getting all muddy.’
‘Well, normally I wouldn’t care but, as I borrowed these sandals from my sister, and when I say borrowed I mean that in the loosest sense of the word, I probably should take your wellies. She won’t be impressed if I return them to her covered in mud.’
He handed her the wellies and she slipped out of her sandals and pulled the boots on.
Nix grabbed a rucksack and closed the van door. He offered out his hand, and she stood and took it, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
They started walking down the hill towards the lake. ‘In all seriousness, Lyra, you can’t tell anyone what I’m about to show you. We’re trying to educate people about how wonderful this species is, how useful they can be, not only to us but to other wildlife and the environment, but there are still many who think they are nuisances and others who might try to hunt them, so at the moment we’re trying to keep the location of some colonies a bit quiet.’
‘You can trust me,’ Lyra said, suddenly realising the importance of all of this.
He regarded her for a moment. ‘Yes, I think I can.’
They neared the lake and Nix gestured for her to be quiet as they made their way through the bushes and trees, which blocked out a lot of the remaining light. He suddenly stopped and gently pulled her so she was in front of him, his hands on her shoulders. She closed her eyes as she felt the warmth of his body against hers. There was something hugely intimate about this even though Nix was oblivious to it.
‘Look,’ he whispered and pointed through the branches.
She peered into the increasing darkness, her eyes becoming accustomed to the gloom, and then she gasped as she saw it.
Chapter Two
‘Oh my god. Is that… is that a beaver?’ Lyra squeaked in excitement.
‘Yes.’
She twisted to look at Nix, realising they were face to face. She paused for a second, his eyes locked on hers, before she quickly turned back to look at the beaver as it sat in the water, chewing on some wood.
‘This is incredible. I’d heard there were plans to reintroduce them to the UK but I didn’t realise they’d actually done it.’
‘There are actually quite a few colonies in different parts of the UK, but it’s still early days. We’ll be monitoring them over the next few years to see what their impact is on the environment and local wildlife. But so far all the signs p
oint to having them here being hugely advantageous. This is George, he’s the dad of this colony.’
‘He’s huge,’ Lyra whispered.
‘Yeah, they grow really big. He’s kind of special, at least to me. He is one of the beavers born in Britain in one of the other controlled studies. When he was only a few months old he was attacked by a fox and lost his foot. We had this horrible dilemma of whether to interfere or not. The whole point of reintroducing them to the wild is to largely leave them to their own devices, but we couldn’t just stand by and do nothing. We had worked so hard to get our beavers to breed and his mum and dad only had one kit and I hated the thought of them losing him. If left alone, the leg probably would have got infected, so rightly or wrongly I took him and nursed him back to health.’
Lyra turned to look at him with a smile. ‘I think you definitely did the right thing.’
Nix shrugged. ‘I think there are many who disagree with you but I did it anyway. George had surgery and we looked after him for several weeks and then released him back into the wild. We weren’t sure if he would survive with one foot missing, or whether our interference when he was so young would hinder his ability to adapt to the wild, but he’s five years old now and you’d never know he had such a rough start to life. His mum and dad were overjoyed to have him back, and he just carried on as if he hadn’t been away. He’s adapted to only having three feet very easily. He spends most of his time in the water anyway so it’s not like he has to move around much on land. When he was old enough to mate, we introduced him to Tilda, another British-born beaver, and they hit it off.’
‘And they made a family of their own?’ Lyra said.
When he remained silent for a moment, she turned to look at him.
‘She didn’t care that he only had three legs, she still loved him.’
She studied him for a moment, there was more to what he was saying here.
He cleared his throat. ‘The beaver population is thriving because of all the beaver projects around England, but at the moment they’re not allowed to be released into the wild. All the projects are on private land and their movements are restricted within that land. With all the beavers breeding, we don’t want to get to the point where we are culling the beavers because of overpopulation. I wanted to help in some small way. The beavers are such an important species: they help to prevent floods, they improve the water quality wherever they make dams and the wildlife increases exponentially in all areas where beavers live. So that’s why I sold my house and bought the land.’
