The Lovebirds

‘Lovely thanks, you?’

‘Not too bad. I spent it with my brother’s family, and they’re a riot when they get going. I’m exhausted. Can I get you a tea, or do you want a hand with all that?’

‘Tea would be lovely, thank you!’

‘On it.’

Rosa was the next to arrive, just as Abby had finished de-Christmassing the place.

‘Oh, it’s all come down,’ she said, kissing Abby on the cheek. ‘I’ll miss the tinsel.’

‘New year, new start,’ Abby said. ‘I hope you don’t mind?’

‘Not really. Just trying to hold onto that festive feeling as long as I can. This is always the gloomy bit of the year.’ Rosa’s black curls were loose, fanning out around her like a glossy halo. She looked happy and rested, despite her forlorn thought.

‘We’ll have to brighten it up then, won’t we? Meadowsweet to the rescue!’

Rosa laughed. ‘What’s got into you?’

‘I’m glad to be back, that’s all.’

‘You didn’t have fun?’

Abby wrinkled her nose. ‘It was a bit quiet. Tessa and her family got a sickness bug, and I ended up at Mum’s yesterday, just me and her, which is fine but not what I’d expected.’ She had never enlightened her friends in Meadowgreen about her family history, only told them that she was close to her sister, saw her mum occasionally and her dad barely ever. She wasn’t about to start over-sharing now. ‘Did you have a lovely time with your folks?’

‘Brilliant,’ Rosa confirmed. ‘I’m sorry about yours, though. No wonder you’re glad to be back. And aiming to get a sneaky kiss off someone, I see.’

‘Sorry?’ Abby’s heart skipped a beat.

‘Did you think I wouldn’t notice?’ Rosa pointed at the mistletoe still hanging from the ceiling.

Abby had missed the small piece of foliage that had been so significant that day, after they’d got back from her winter walk. She had held onto Jack’s fleeting kiss as long as she could, the memory becoming more distant as the days passed so that now the sensations were dulled, the feel of his lips on her skin something she tried to reach out for but couldn’t quite grasp, like a coin dropped to the bottom of a fountain.

‘I didn’t notice it,’ Abby said quickly, wishing she could reach up and yank it down, instead of having to go and get the ladder again.

Stephan brought their hot drinks over, and Abby resisted the urge to hug him.

‘How are we all?’ came a voice from the doorway. ‘Re-energized and ready to roll with the punches?’ It was such an un-Penelope like thing to say that they all froze, speechless, as their boss strode into the room, wearing a long, turquoise coat and carrying a red umbrella. Abby thought she looked like Mary Poppins.

‘Yes, Penelope,’ Stephan stuttered. ‘I—’

‘Excellent news. Because this year is not going to be easy on Meadowsweet, but I intend to fight with every fibre of my being, and I need you, my army, to be as galvanized as I am.’

‘Wow,’ Rosa murmured. ‘Rousing speech.’

‘I thought I’d start on a positive note,’ Penelope said. ‘And now, I’m going to go and open the post, and the day will undoubtedly go downhill from there. Stephan?’

‘Cappuccino?’

‘That would be wonderful, thank you.’

‘Amazing,’ Rosa said once Penelope was behind the closed office door. ‘Do you think her New Year’s resolution is to be a bit more human?’

‘She’s always been human,’ Abby said, laughing. ‘She loved the Christmas tree, remember? You always forget the times she’s been kind and encouraging.’

‘That’s because they’re so outnumbered by sharp looks and reprimands that they pale into insignificance. If she’s really turning over a new leaf, then I’m all for it.’ Rosa sipped her coffee and drifted towards the shop, a perplexed look on her face.

The visitors were few and far between that morning, but Abby didn’t panic. It was only the second of January, people would still be in a post-party stupor, and going for a walk round a nature reserve was unlikely to be at the top of many people’s to-do lists. That was the kind of attitude she needed to change.

‘What about hangover walks?’ she said, to nobody in particular.

‘What are you muttering about over there?’ Rosa called, giving her a cheeky grin.

‘Why don’t we run hangover walks?’ Abby repeated, warming to her brainwave. ‘Come and clear the cobwebs away with a brisk walk down to the lagoon and back, ending with a bacon sandwich and a hot drink in the café? I can tailor the information about the wildlife, pick out the fun and grizzly facts. Why are long-tailed tits called bumbarrels? Statistics about adder bites, and the impressive way sparrowhawks kill and eat their prey. If people realize we’re not all earnest, adenoidal obsessives, we could appeal to more of them.’

‘It sounds like a grand idea,’ Stephan called, her words reaching the café due to the building being so empty. ‘And the scopes are bound to interest a few people. You could work that into it, too.’

‘I’d planned on doing that separately, but …’ Abby chewed her pen, then scribbled everything in her notebook.

The quiet lasted close to an hour before Penelope emerged from her office, looking five years older than when she had gone in.

‘What is it?’ Abby asked. ‘Are you OK, Penelope?’

The older woman waved a dismissive hand. ‘Nothing you need to worry about. Post rarely brings good news, does it? No, this is your concern. I’m on tenterhooks wondering if it will be another complaint, or if you’ve won him round altogether.’

‘Sorry?’

Penelope slid a white envelope onto the desk, Abby’s name written in familiar, slanted handwriting.

‘Oh.’ She didn’t touch it immediately and tried to stop the smile that was threatening.

At that moment, two young women walked through the door. Their warm coats and scarves suggested they could be here for an outdoor walk, but their high-heeled boots did not. They were heavily made-up, had perfect, preened hair, and were perhaps a couple of years younger than she was. Their overall appearance was so out of place with the surroundings that Abby swallowed the urge to laugh.

She slipped the envelope beneath the counter. ‘Hello, welcome to Meadowsweet Nature Reserve – are you here for a day pass?’

‘Yeah.’ One of the women stepped forward. ‘We were wondering about those walks you do – y’know, like the one before Christmas. Are you doing any more?’

‘I’ve got several organized over the next few weeks. They’re all up on the website.’ She swivelled the computer monitor round to face them and clicked through to the relevant page.

The woman scanned the list. ‘Great, ta. And when do I know who’s coming on them?’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘When do I know who else will be on the walks? Do you have a list or something?’

‘I lead most of the walks,’ Abby said, frowning. ‘Sometimes one of the wardens, Gavin or Marek, will give me a hand.’

The woman nodded. ‘So, this walk, before Christmas, yeah? I heard that … that someone …’