Twilight Song

Twilight Song
Cressida McLaughlin

‘Captivating, uplifting and heartfelt’ Heat Magazine‘A wonderful ray of reading sunshine’ Heidi Swain‘What a beautiful, heartwarming story… the perfect book to lose yourself in’ Zara StoneleySpring is blooming at Meadowsweet nature reserve. Although the sunshine is drawing in the visitors like never before, events co-ordinator Abby knows she’s treading on thin ice. She’s spending more and more time with village newcomer Jack, and she’ll need to make a real success of the springtime camping extravaganza at the reserve if she’s to keep her disgruntled boss off her back.Abby hasn’t thrown too many questions at Jack about his shadowy past – she’s enjoying the budding romance, so why break the spell? But when the secrets start spilling out and a glamorous blonde presenter from the nature show, Wild Wonders, turns Jack’s head, Abby knows it’s time to face the music…Twilight Song is the third part of a four-part serial.

Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

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London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk)

First published in Great Britain in ebook format in 2018 by HarperCollinsPublishers

Copyright © Cressida McLaughlin 2018

Cover design © HarperColl‌insPublishers Ltd 2018.

Cover illustration © Lindsey Spinks / The Artworks

Cressida McLaughlin asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Ebook Edition © March 2018 ISBN: 9780008225827

Version 2018-03-28

Table of Contents

Cover (#uf93c74b3-6952-5779-a026-aad37fb63051)

Title Page (#ua446076f-0f05-5d7f-9874-85eb6e96af44)

Copyright (#u8d5fec45-b565-5612-a308-3576dc099ff3)

Part Three: Twilight Song (#u161c3a31-0011-5d99-808e-f4c533f00834)

Chapter One (#u62d3285e-143b-52c9-8d37-657e091df085)

Chapter Two (#u1f084155-9012-5ceb-8083-0f7eb963bc77)

Chapter Three (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Author (#litres_trial_promo)

Keep Reading… (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 1 (#litres_trial_promo)

Also by Cressida McLaughlin (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

Part Three (#u79b75cfa-306e-5e8e-bee5-21bb8d42fabd)

Chapter One (#u79b75cfa-306e-5e8e-bee5-21bb8d42fabd)

Badgers are nocturnal creatures, which means they only come out at night. They’re very shy, with dark fur, beady eyes and a white stripe down their nose. They’re quite large – about the size of a cocker spaniel – and they can’t see very well but their sense of smell and hearing is very good, so wear dark clothes and stay very quiet if you are trying to see one. They growl and play fight and make a lot of noise when they’re eating, and bushes rustle when they walk through the undergrowth. Coming across one in the dark can be very scary, but remember, the badger will be more scared of you than you are of it. Probably.

— Note from Abby’s notebook.

Abby Field’s hands were covered in lard, seed and, most unpleasantly of all, dead mealworms. The children standing at the picnic tables in Meadowsweet Nature Reserve’s sunny outdoor area seemed entirely happy to bury their fingers – and forearms in some cases – deep in the mixture, their parents less so. There was one small girl of about five whose face was also partially covered, and warden Gavin, who was ostensibly there to help and who had two girls of his own, was trying desperately not to laugh while her mum picked buggy lard out of her hair.

A robin – was it Bob, who they had named the previous autumn and who liked to sit on the windowsill of the visitor centre? – was hovering nearby, hopping between table and floor, aware that there would be rich pickings once the children had finished their craft session.

‘How’s everyone getting on?’ Abby asked, after she had shaped little Benjy’s mixture into a ball and wiped her hands on an old towel. ‘Does anyone need help?’ About ten arms went into the air, and Abby grinned at Gavin before they each went to the raised hand nearest them.

‘We did this at the other place, didn’t we?’ one of the children said to their dad. ‘It was much better, we had a whole tub to take home, and there were TV cameras and everything.’

Abby caught the man’s eye and he smiled apologetically. Abby tried not to take offence at the boy’s words, but the knowledge that Reston Marsh, the nature reserve a few miles away, which was hosting the television programme Wild Wonders, complete with glamorous presenter Flick Hunter, was not only threatening the future of Meadowsweet but also running similar activities to them, was a blow she didn’t need.

It was spring on the Suffolk nature reserve, a sunny Saturday that was also, as Gavin was at pains to remind everyone, St Patrick’s Day. The plan was for the reserve staff to head to the Skylark, the quaint country pub in Meadowgreen village, once they had finished work, but Abby’s sister Tessa was coming to visit, and Abby didn’t want to share her with her friends on this occasion.

As the session came to an end and the children left, carrying their lard balls carefully in cardboard boxes, Abby’s phone beeped. It was her next-door neighbour, and owner of Meadowgreen’s converted chapel library, Octavia Pilch.

T-minus ten days until Jack Westcoat liftoff!! What is there left to do?

Abby huffed in frustration. Octavia was organizing the Jack Westcoat liftoff, which was actually an author event in the library, and should know exactly what there was left to do. Besides, Abby only had an hour before her afternoon workshop, making nest boxes with older children, was due to start, and she was desperate for a sandwich. She helped Gavin clear up the picnic tables and headed into the visitor centre.

She was surprised to see Penelope Hardinge, her boss and the owner of the Meadowsweet reserve, poring over the computer on the reception desk. Abby approached quietly, studying the neatness of the woman’s grey bun, the rigidness of her thin shoulders and, when she was close enough, what Penelope was looking at. It was the events page on the reserve website.

Abby felt her hands go clammy. Events were her responsibility and, over the last few months, they had become much more important. The nature reserve was under threat from various different angles, not all of which Penelope would talk openly about.

‘Can I help?’ she asked softly.

Penelope turned to her with steely eyes. ‘It’s looking a bit thin, isn’t it? For the next few months, at least. This is the spring, Abby, when blossoms bloom and chrysalises become butterflies and birds sing gloriously, and we should be maximizing on that.’