Twilight Song Page 2

  Abby scooted forward, until she was precariously balanced on the edge of her chair. ‘All anyone knows is what was reported in the press. How can we judge him when we know nothing about what really happened?’

  ‘But presumably if you’re spending time with him, he’s spoken to you about it?’

  ‘Not a lot,’ Abby admitted. ‘But he’s been really down, Tessa. He’s hiding away to write a new book that he’s hoping will fix things, but he doesn’t know anyone and he’s isolated. He needs a friend.’

  ‘And so kind-hearted Abby Field drops everything as usual to help out someone else, someone who’s angry and upset, who’s lost control in the past. It doesn’t sound like a great balance to me. It sounds like he’s using you.’ Tessa sighed heavily. ‘This is so familiar, Abby. You’re walking over old ground, trying to save someone who isn’t worth it. Why don’t you think about yourself for a change and find someone who’ll look after you and won’t behave like a prick?’ Tessa’s eyes were bright, two points of colour on her porcelain cheeks.

  ‘I am thinking of myself,’ Abby shot back, stunned by her sister’s outburst. ‘I like him. A lot. And I’m struggling with all the things you’ve said, and I don’t know how he feels about me, not really. But I thought I could trust you. I haven’t told another soul and I wanted some reassurance, someone who’d talk it over with me, not – not attack him, or me, in the process!’ She felt tears spring to her eyes, as unexpected as her sister’s vehemence.

  ‘Shit,’ Tessa murmured, and then she was sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of her. ‘I’m sorry, but I worry about you. Out here, just you and Raffle. It seems … lonely, to me.’

  ‘And yet the moment I find someone I like, you warn me off him. You don’t even know him!’

  ‘You’re right, I don’t. But I do know of him, and I can’t help but be concerned about that, can I? Doesn’t he live in London anyway? Surely he’s only here temporarily. You spend so much time saying you can’t deal with a new relationship, that you’re scared about falling for the wrong guy, and then you find this … this—’

  ‘He’s not a violent person. It was a one-off.’

  ‘How do you know Abby? How do you know he won’t turn, and then you’ll just put up with it, like you did with Dad?’

  Anger blossomed in Abby’s chest. ‘I didn’t put up with it! I couldn’t leave, could I? Not like you, disappearing off to university. I had nowhere to go, Tessa! And if they hadn’t divorced, it would have gone on, getting worse and worse with me in the middle, without you there so we could look after each other. Don’t you dare say I put up with it!’

  ‘Sorry, sorry.’ Tessa took both of Abby’s hands in hers. ‘I know I – I wasn’t there. I’m sorry.’ Tears filled her eyes too, and Abby bit her lip, trying not to give into hers.

  ‘Jack isn’t like that,’ Abby whispered. ‘I’m convinced he isn’t.’ She thought back to his words, to him questioning why she could be so sure of him, and yet unsure of herself.

  Tessa sighed. ‘So, you’re going out with him?’

  Abby shook her head. ‘No, we’re just … friends.’

  ‘So, there is something holding you back?’ Tessa’s voice was soft.

  ‘I was hoping to talk to you, to see what you thought before I took it further. Now I know.’

  ‘I just want to protect you. I couldn’t bear it if you got hurt again. Tell me more about him. Tell me what he’s like.’

  Abby pressed her fingers against her lips. She felt numb that she couldn’t, after all, confide in her sister. ‘It’s OK,’ she said. ‘Forget I mentioned him. Tell me about Willow and Daisy, how are they getting on? How’s the pond? Is Willow still frightened of the frogspawn?’

  Tessa stared at her, then wiped elegantly at her cheek and slipped into a familiar, if stilted, monologue about her happy family life.

  Abby tried not to let sadness creep in. She’d been expecting Tessa – who was always so adamant Abby needed some romance in her life – to dispel her fears about Jack and encourage her to take a risk. But instead her sister had warned her against pursuing anything with this violent man, and while Abby knew that was a ridiculous summary of Jack, she couldn’t help but feel that, at least on some levels, it was true.

  Getting involved with Jack Westcoat was a bad idea. Her heart might be clamouring for him, but common sense – and now, as if hammering the nail in the coffin, her big sister – was telling her to stay away.

  They settled into a rhythm that wasn’t quite normal, and Tessa made her excuses and got up to leave just after ten o’clock, giving Abby a sweet-scented hug on the doorstep, and promising to call her in the next few days, their earlier conversation avoided as if it had never happened.

  Abby stood on the doorstop long after she’d driven away. It was cold and misty, the streetlights turned soft-focus by the haze.

  ‘Fancy a quick walk before bed?’ she asked Raffle. ‘Yeah, me too. Come on then.’

  She had something to do that, considering her argument with Tessa, she was even more nervous about than usual.

  She’d last seen Jack two weeks ago, on his birthday, when Octavia, Rosa and Jonny had crashed their badger vigil. Since then there had been flurries of texts, interspersed with the notes that were becoming the highlight of Abby’s days.

  He had continued to deliver them to the reserve, despite her warning that she was never left to read them alone, and now each time they arrived, Abby’s anticipation was mingled with trepidation, because the notes were becoming more and more personal.

  At first she hadn’t believed that he would be happy to lay himself bare in front of an audience, but then she realized he enjoyed it – just as he’d enjoyed their sparring matches all those months ago. She was waiting for one of the almost writtens, for him to slip in something too intimate to be easily explained away. It hadn’t come yet, but it was a close-run thing.

  Dear Abby,

  Bullfinches in the garden today. I still think they’re like robins on drugs, but they are brightening up the place while the daffodils struggle to break through the frozen earth. I’d like to talk more about their finchy peep soon if possible.

  Yours, JW

  Dear Abby,

  The tributaries have been particularly interesting today – throwing up some unexpected things. Hard to balance when you’re peering into their murky depths, I find. What about you?

  Yours, JW

  Dear Abby,

  OP in touch today. Is it normal to be terrified about a library event? I’ve talked on much bigger stages than this one, but Octavia and her chapel library put the fear of God in me (pun intended). Will you be there to hold my hand?

  Yours, JW

  Abby had been lucky that Octavia hadn’t been present for that one, and Rosa had made sympathetic noises when she’d read it over her shoulder.

  It was the latest one, however, which Abby couldn’t stop thinking about, and which was probably part of the reason Penelope had given her a thinly veiled talking to today, as she’d been there when it had arrived at the reserve.

  Dear Abby,

  I’ve been thinking a lot about our badger vigil, and what we missed out on. Are close calls such as ours normal, or is it usually more satisfying than that? It’s been on my mind.

  Yours, JW

  Abby knew he wasn’t talking about the badger, and Penelope wasn’t stupid; Abby was sure it was no coincidence that she had allowed Jack to come into the conversation earlier that day.

  She knew she was treading on thin ground, unable to resist answering Jack’s texts at work, finding herself thinking about him and staring into space when she should have been ordering more membership forms, but she couldn’t stop. She picked up the letter she had written before Tessa arrived, and closed her front door quietly behind her. Jack would still be up, she was sure, and as she approached Peacock Cottage she was rewarded with the welcoming glow through the thin curtains of the living room window.

  She tiptoed quietly up the path, slipp
ed the note through the letterbox and hastily retreated, hurrying back towards Warbler Cottages, skirting past the tall, imposing walls of Swallowtail House. Recently, when she’d passed it, she’d had the eerie sense that the house was watching her, as if now she’d been inside she was irrevocably tied to it. In the dark, that sense was increased tenfold. She was relieved that she had Raffle with her, the husky enjoying the jog at her side, his head lifted high to sniff the night-time air.

  She silently recited her note to Jack, wondering if he’d found it yet.

  Dear Jack,

  Close calls such as ours are, indeed, very rare, and – in this case especially – much lamented over. And to answer your earlier question, handholding is one of my specialties, but not one I give out freely. In this case, the severity of your situation makes it acceptable to offer my services. OP reminded me that it was T-minus ten days. Hold on to your hats!

  Abby

  PS. You will ace it, have faith in yourself. x

  When she got home she distractedly put more water down for Raffle, gave him a goodnight cuddle and then got ready for bed. She stared at the dark ceiling, trying to put Jack out of her mind so she could get some sleep, but then her phone beeped, and even before she picked it up she knew who it was.

  Why didn’t you knock?

  Abby’s fingers hovered over the screen. Even though the truth was far from simple, she didn’t want to lie – she found that being honest with Jack was easier than it was with Penelope, Rosa and, after today, Tessa. Somehow their discouragement made her feel closer to him, as if he was the only one she could confide in.

  I’m afraid of what might happen, but I do want to see you. Talk after the library event? x

  The reply was almost instantaneous.

  I feel the same. After the library event can’t come soon enough, for all sorts of reasons.

  Abby drifted off towards sleep with a smile on her face, Tessa’s warnings and her worries about Meadowsweet temporarily forgotten.

  Chapter Two

  Frogspawn might look strange, like clumps of jelly, but it’s an amazing thing to have in your pond, because it means you’ll soon have lots of tadpoles, and then frogs, in the garden. You can tell the difference between frogspawn and toad spawn because frogspawn is in little clusters, and toad spawn is in long strings, like a bead necklace.

  — Note from Abby’s notebook.

  T-minus ten days for the library event soon became T-minus ten hours, and as Abby arrived at the visitor centre that morning, twenty minutes late and flustered, Octavia was waiting to pounce on her. Her red hair was hanging untidily over her shoulders, and her jumper was unironed.

  ‘Abby!’ She grabbed her sleeve and looked at her pleadingly.

  ‘What is it?’ Abby asked. ‘What’s happened? Has the library sprung a leak? Have you lost the key? Has Jack—’ Her voice caught at the thought that the star attraction had changed his mind. In some ways she wouldn’t blame him, but to leave it to the actual day to cancel was on the callous side.

  ‘Oh no,’ Octavia said. ‘Jack’s fine, the library’s fine, I’m … I’m … Abby …’ She took a deep breath. ‘There are fifty people coming tonight. Fifty. The most I’ve ever had for one of my author talks is eleven, and that’s only because it was that man up the road who does whittling, and all his cousins were visiting from America to celebrate his publication day.’

  ‘But that’s brilliant,’ Abby said. ‘How could that be anything other than brilliant?’

  ‘Because I don’t have enough chairs,’ Octavia whispered. ‘Do you think people will mind sitting on beanbags?’

  Abby hesitated, wondering how this experienced woman could get to a point where she had sold tickets for an event without assessing her resources beforehand, and then decided not to be too harsh. Octavia had got carried away, and under the circumstances Abby could understand it. ‘I’ll go and see Ryan at lunchtime,’ she said. ‘I’m sure he’s got a function room somewhere with some stacked chairs. Do you know how many you’re short by?’

  ‘Sixteen,’ Octavia said, ‘and that’s if more people don’t turn up on speculation.’

  ‘I’ll sort it out,’ she said, giving Stephan a grateful grin when a cup of hot, milky tea was placed on the reception desk.

  ‘You’re a darling,’ Octavia said. ‘And Jack will sparkle. Nobody will care what they’re sitting on once he starts speaking.’

  Abby waved her neighbour goodbye as she raced towards the car park, and sipped her tea, watching a pair of greenfinches on the feeders while the computer woke up. A few smatterings of spring rain darkened the concrete, though the sun was trying to break through. She would like nothing more than to spend the day out in the fresh air, answering questions and checking the nest boxes were secured, but she had her camping extravaganza to organize. She had submitted a formal proposal to Penelope, but her boss had been underwhelmed, and Abby had been firming up the details ever since.

  She had a list of remaining suppliers to get in touch with during quiet moments and, hopefully, by the end of the day almost everything would be ready to slot into the programme she was pulling together.

  She issued day passes to a group of older visitors, all of whom had matching blue baseball caps, one of them explaining that their village pub had set up a social club, and that Meadowsweet had been chosen as their next excursion.

  Abby listened as they bickered good-naturedly, and then showed them a map of the reserve, pointing out the different habitats and where the star species had been seen recently. Once they were armed with all the information, they moved away from reception to reveal Jonny, looking fresh and spring-like in a red checked shirt and smart jeans.

  ‘Jonny, how are you?’ Abby asked. ‘Is there anything I can help you with?’

  ‘Is – uhm, Rosa here?’

  Abby hid her smile. ‘She’s got a day off today. Did you want to see the binoculars? She’s ordered in a new, mid-price range that you might be interested in.’

  ‘Oh sure, thanks.’

  She led him over to the Birdseye View section, which was opposite the till, and next to the storeroom and Penelope’s office. The door was ajar, and as she left Jonny perusing what must have been his hundredth pair of binoculars, she went to pull it closed. But the inner door to Penelope’s office was also open, and she could hear her voice, a mixture of hushed and exasperated, as she spoke on the phone.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mr Philpott, but I need more time. A few more months.’ There was a long pause. ‘No, I can’t. Not at present. We do – yes, we do.’ Another pause. ‘No. That can’t happen. You’re aware of my – yes, indeed. He’s been assisting me in those areas. But there is still time, I assure you.’

  Abby hovered, the silence now so long she thought the call must have ended without a goodbye on Penelope’s part, but then she spoke again.

  ‘There are jobs at stake, not to mention the future of the reserve, the importance of protecting this whole area. This is bigger than you or me, Mr Philpott. No, I do understand, there’s no time for sentimentality. If it has to be the house then so be it, but I am confident that it hasn’t come to that yet. I can show you when – yes, I look forward to seeing you too. Goodbye.’

  If it had been an old-fashioned phone, Abby was sure she would have heard the receiver slam into its cradle, but there was simply the small beep of the call ending, and then a sigh and a rustle of fabric as her boss shifted in her chair.

  Her heart in her mouth, Abby walked slowly back to reception. Things were as bad as Penelope had suggested, if not worse, and there she’d been, rolling her eyes at having to do a formal event proposal, sneaking off to the top of the woodland trail so she could reply to Jack’s text messages without distractions, daydreaming about him as she refilled the feeders each morning. She felt sick. Her smile when the next visitors arrived was decidedly forced.

  The sense of shame stayed with her all day, and to counteract it she threw a new level of determination into organizing her camping event. She st
ayed at work until after five, feeling guilty even as she closed down the computer and took her jacket from the storeroom.

  ‘Goodnight, Penelope,’ she said softly to the closed door.

  It opened. ‘It’s Jack’s event tonight, isn’t it?’ Penelope looked weary, worry lines creasing her forehead, and Abby wished she could comfort her.

  ‘You should come,’ she said instead. ‘There’s going to be a big turnout apparently, and I’m sure he’d love to see some friendly faces in the audience.’

  Penelope nodded. ‘Maybe I’ll see you there.’

  ‘OK.’ Abby smiled. ‘That would be great.’

  It was still light as she walked home, her pace inevitably slowing as she passed Peacock Cottage. Jack’s texts had become more frequent as the day approached; they were self-deprecating and funny, overplaying his nerves in a way that she thought hid genuine anxiety. Suddenly, even thinking about him felt like a betrayal. Abby couldn’t let her mind wander anymore. She would go to the library event and support Jack, and then she would give a hundred per cent to the reserve. She would never forgive herself if it closed down with her knowing she could have done more to save it.

  She arrived at the library at half past six, and it was already fuller than she had ever seen it. Ryan had come through, and there were rows of chairs set up theatre-style facing away from the main doors. Not all of them matched, some certainly looked like they had seen better days and, recently, quite a bit of woodworm – Abby hoped they wouldn’t collapse under anyone. At the front was a low, unassuming stage, which was where Octavia usually kept her displays of new releases. For tonight, it had been cleared, and there was a table with a jug of water and a glass, and one of the library’s most comfortable fabric chairs waiting to be occupied.

  Abby glanced at the people already assembled. She recognized a few faces from the village, and Helen Savoury was there, flicking through a copy of one of Jack’s books, silver-rimmed glasses on her nose. Abby tried not to let panic consume her at the councillor’s presence, and looked around for a friendly face, but instead found the perfectly groomed locks of Flick Hunter. She was two seats away from Helen Savoury, her gaze going frequently to the side of the room, and Abby wondered whether Jack had invited her, or if she had discovered the event in the local press like everyone else. He hadn’t mentioned her recently, and Abby had allowed her jealousy at seeing them together to dissipate, so it was a shock to find her in the audience.