Grace had had enough. She stood up. ‘I don’t think it’s this place, actually. I think I sobered up a bit when my husband disappeared on me and my child.’ She went across to Millie and picked her up to cuddle her, upset when Millie screamed and struggled until she was put back down.
‘Grace, listen to us,’ James insisted. ‘You and Millie need looking after, and there’s no chance of that while you live up here. Annabel’s right, this isn’t good for you. Where’s the fun-loving girl we used to know, who could barely stand a day without going somewhere different or trying something new? Just look at yourself right now.’
‘I wouldn’t be feeling like this if you two could start supporting me instead of antagonising me,’ Grace retorted. ‘And I think you have forgotten that I have a baby now – much more has changed in my life than just my location. Besides, you live in Switzerland – I’ll never see you, James, even if I do move back to London. What kind of support is that?’
‘I’m thinking of moving back,’ he replied.
‘Oh.’ She looked at him, unsure what to say – they were getting completely sidetracked.
‘Listen, I’m not isolated …’ she said testily, trying to get the discussion back on course. ‘I’ve got Ben, and Meredith, and Claire, and Emma …’
Annabel threw her hands up in the air. ‘For God’s sake, Grace. You hardly know any of them!’
They all glared at one another.
‘I’m going for a walk,’ Grace told them defiantly.
Annabel shook her head then turned away. ‘Of course you are, Grace. That’s your solution for everything nowadays.’
Grace was already on her way out. ‘Just mind Millie for me,’ she called irritably over her shoulder. ‘I won’t be long.’
By the time she reached her front gate, she could feel the tears streaking down her face. Why did everyone she loved want to make things so much harder? James and Annabel’s attitude was really getting to her. Life wasn’t always about taking the easy option: sometimes there were things that needed to be done.
She stomped up the road, the hardened snow crunching under her feet, until she reached Feathery Jack’s place. The chimney was puffing as usual, and in the front garden two small barn owls sat together on one perch. They barely moved, only the occasional twist of their heads signalling that they were alive. Sturdy leather straps were looped around their legs, and Grace felt sorry for them. She walked closer to the fence, glancing at their heart-shaped faces, their speckled breasts, the sharp hooks of their talons. The pure white among their dappled feathers stood out against the greying crust of snow.
‘Come on over, then, lass.’
The voice came from the doorway, and then a gaunt old man appeared, beckoning her closer. His face was a scrunch of wrinkled skin beneath tufts of white hair. He wore a tweed jacket a few sizes too big for him, and his trousers were tied tight around his ankles with string. A pipe dangled from his mouth, jiggling up and down as he moved. He came across and opened the gate for her, and she followed him towards the owls. ‘Stroke her on her belly, like.’ He looked expectantly at Grace. She tentatively touched the owl’s soft feathers. Its beak looked razor sharp, but the owl sat stoically and didn’t move.
She stood back. ‘I’m Grace, I live at Hawthorn Cottage.’
He gave no indication that he’d heard her. Instead he went back into the cottage for a moment, then came out holding something small, which he offered to one of the owls. It was snatched in an instant from his outstretched fingers. As the bird gripped the item in his talon and began to tear at it, Grace saw it was a dead mouse. She watched as skin was ripped away to reveal raw red flesh, feeling revolted.
‘Er, thank you!’ she said after a while, unable to bear it any longer. The old man didn’t even acknowledge her, heading back towards his cottage again.
She let herself out through the gate, unsure whether to go home to try and make peace, or carry on walking. As she wavered, the door to the redbrick house opened, and Ben emerged with Bess on a lead. He raised a hand when he saw her, and then did the same to Jack, who was heading back across his garden. The old man called, ‘Now then,’ as he offered the second owl a dead mouse.
‘I was going to come and see you later,’ Ben said as he drew near. ‘To find out when you want to start work again on your cottage?’
Grace smiled. ‘As soon as possible, but I think I need to wait until the others have left. It’s far too crowded in there at the moment.’
Her face or voice must have reflected her downcast thoughts, as Ben asked, ‘Everything all right?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘Not really.’ She bit back the tears, feeling foolish, not wanting to cry in front of him.
‘Would you like to take a walk with me and Bess? You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. We’ll just keep you company.’
‘That would be good. Though I can’t leave Millie for too long.’
‘Don’t worry – we weren’t going far anyway. Perhaps we won’t go through the fields this time, eh?’
As she laughed despite herself, she saw the lines around his eyes deepen as he grinned.