Lyrebird: Beautiful, moving and uplifting: the perfect holiday read

She gives in, for now.

Back at Gougane Barra Hotel, Solomon and Rachel dig into their dinners, not uttering a word, while Bo thinks aloud.

‘Tom must have known about this girl, right? He was the one who checked that area, that was part of his responsibility, checking the well a few times a week. You can’t check the well without noticing the cottage. Or the vegetable plot, or the goat and chickens. It would be impossible. And there’s the extra items of food on the shopping list, the bookshelves and the book from Bridget. Plus, Mossie knows her, so Tom must have brought him to visit her.’

‘He’s a dog.’ Solomon speaks for the first time since he started eating ten minutes ago. ‘Dogs wander. He could have met her himself.’

‘Good point.’

‘Met her,’ Rachel says. ‘Do dogs meet people? I guess they meet people who speak dog,’ she jokes, then stops laughing when the others don’t join in; Bo because she’s not listening, Solomon because he’s sensitive about mocking Laura. ‘Whatever. I’m going to call Susie.’ Rachel takes her plate of food with her to another table.

‘What is that thing she was doing? The noises?’ Bo asks Solomon. ‘Is it a Tourette’s thing? She growled and barked and chirped.’

‘As far as I know, people with Tourette’s don’t bark at people,’ Solomon says, licking the sticky sauce from his fingers before taking a bite of his pork ribs.

The sauce is all over his face. Bo looks at him in disgust, not understanding his absolute inability to function without food. She stops picking at her green salad.

‘You have your food now, why are you still snapping at me?’

‘I don’t think you handled today well.’

‘I think you’ve been jet-lagged, moody and irritable all day,’ she says. ‘Extra sensitive – which, for you, is saying a lot.’

‘You scared Laura.’

‘I scared Laura,’ she repeats, as she always does, as if saying the words again will help her to process them. She does the same during interviews with interviewees’ responses. It can be unsettling for them, as though she doesn’t believe them, but really it’s her trying to grasp what they’ve just said.

‘You could tell she was frightened. You could see a young woman, surrounded by four people in a forest. Three of us dressed in black for a funeral, like we’re ninjas. She was terrified, and you were filming.’

That set-up seems to occur to her suddenly. ‘Shit.’

‘Yes, shit.’ He sucks his fingers again and studies her. ‘What’s going on?’

‘What we saw today was remarkable. What that girl did—’

‘Laura.’

‘What Laura did, those sounds she made, it was like magic. And I don’t believe in magic. I’ve never heard anything like that before.’

‘Me neither.’

‘I got excited.’

‘You got greedy.’

Silence.

He finishes his rib, watches the news on the TV in the corner.

‘You know everyone keeps asking me what I’ve got coming out next,’ she says.

‘Yeah, they’re asking me too.’

‘I’ve got nothing. Nothing like TheToolin Twins. All these awards we’re getting – people are interested in my work now. I have to be able to follow it up.’

He’s known she’s been feeling the pressure, and he’s glad she’s finally admitting it.

‘You should be happy you made one thing that people like. Some people never get that. The reason you were successful in the first place is because you took your time. You found the right story, you were patient. You listened. Today was a mess, Bo. You were rushing around like a headless chicken. People would rather see something authentic and worthy, than something that’s been thrown together.’

‘Is that why you’re doing Fat Fit Club and Grotesque Bodies?’

The anger bubbles inside him as he tries to remain calm. ‘We’re talking about you, not me.’

‘I’m under pressure, Solomon.’

‘Don’t be.’

‘You can’t tell someone not to feel pressure.’

‘I just did.’

‘Solomon …’ She doesn’t know whether to laugh or be angry.

‘You lost yourself in the forest,’ he says. He hadn’t planned on saying it, it just popped out.

She studies him. ‘Who are you talking to? Me, or yourself?’

‘You, obviously,’ he says, then throws the rib down. It makes a louder sound than he intended, as the bone hits the ceramic plate, and he starts a new one.

Bo folds her arms, studying him for a moment. He doesn’t look at her, doesn’t say a word.

‘We both saw something fascinating in the forest. I jumped into action, you … froze.’

‘I didn’t freeze.’

‘What were you doing there, all that time, while I was at the cottage? Was she there the entire time?’

‘Fuck off, Bo.’

‘Well, it’s a valid question, isn’t it?’

‘Yes. We had sex. In the two minutes I was away from you, we had sex. Up against the tree.’

‘That’s not what I fucking mean and you know it.’

Wasn’t it?

‘I’m trying to figure her out and you’re not giving me anything. You must have had a conversation but you keep ignoring the question. She told you her name. You were alone with her before I got there, I want to know what you talked about …’