Regan let out an involuntary laugh when the penny finally dropped. ‘I meant if I won millions I could set up an organisation to save the polar bear or something.’ It wasn’t like she’d actually thought it through – it was something she’d plucked from thin air that seemed like a good idea at the time. ‘What canIdo about saving hedgehogs?’ She knew she was pulling what her dad called her ‘duh face’.
‘We’re always after volunteers,’ shot in Philistia, seizing her opportunity. She gave Regan a sandwich box filled with newspaper in exchange for Mr Pickle.
‘Oh, I don’t know.’ Regan shot Charlie a glare for putting her on the spot like this, but he was busy cooing over the sandwich box. Regan peered inside. Four truffle-sized hedgehogs were snuggled together. Their wrinkly faces reminded her of walnuts. ‘Awww.’ The noise was involuntary.
‘Hoglets. About five days old,’ said Philistia, appearing unnervingly close to Regan’s shoulder. ‘Their mother was most likely killed. They need feeding every two hours. Here you go …’ She handed Regan a syringe with a rubber bit on the end. Regan looked at it questioningly. ‘Miracle Nipple,’ explained Philistia.
‘Aren’t they all,’ said Regan, under her breath.
By the time they left she was hooked, and she had signed up to be a hedgehog helper. Philistia had tried desperately hard to sign Charlie up, too, but as it was for a minimum of six months, he’d declined, saying very diplomatically that he didn’t know where he’d be after the summer. Regan had concentrated on filling in her form and filling her head with images of suckling hoglets rather than thinking about Charlie not being there.
Charlie was looking particularly pleased with himself when they got back in the car.
‘What?’ said Regan, giving him a brief glance.
‘You with the hoglets. It makes me smile, that’s all. It’s an image I’ll treasure.’
‘I have to admit it … they were the cutest things ever.’
‘And now you can tick off another thing on your lottery list,’ he said, looking mightily pleased with himself.
‘I’m not sure being a hedgehog helper means I’ve saved the British hedgehog from rapid decline and extinction.’
‘No, but it’s a start.’
He’d done a lovely thing by getting her to go to the hedgehog rescue. She felt so much better. It was a precious thing to hold the baby hedgehogs and watch them guzzle from the tiny feeding syringe. Sometimes you just needed a hefty dose of nature to make you realise that simple acts could make a difference. It had given her quite a buzz. There was more chatter on the way home; the easy exchange she’d come to appreciate with Charlie was back, and she savoured it because she knew all too well it could be short-lived. Without thinking, she drove back past The Level. As she neared the crossing, the sight of a single bunch of flowers taped to the traffic lights brought a lump to her throat.
Regan needed some fresh air so after dropping Charlie home, promising that she’d stay with Penny for another night and doing a very awkward, hesitant air kiss, she walked to the library. It was quiet, so she got on a computer straight away. Two emails from Cleo were a welcome sight in her quest to get her mind to focus on something other than the accident.
Hey You!
Hope you’re all right.
I’m still in Japan. I nearly cracked and came home (I know that makes me sound pathetic!) but lovely Mr Yomoda and his wife invited me to stay with them and I feel so much more positive now I’m not in a lonely hotel room. Mrs Yomoda doesn’t speak any English but she keeps tempting me to eat with interesting morsels of food.
I told them I couldn’t do the rest of the tour alone so Mr Yomoda volunteered to come along with someof his students so they can understand that being a successful artist isn’t just about painting. For a very small man he’s a huge tour de force – he’s arranged it all! His efficiency at rearranging hotel bookings and contacting venues has been top notch. I’ve heard nothing from Oscar since he abandoned me and returned to the UK but I suspect his formal resignation as my agent will be waiting on my return.
How are things with you? It dawned on me that either you’re still living with Jarvis – awkward! Or you’ve moved out?! I need to know details. Call me!
Love
Cleo
x
P.S. Miss you loads
Hi Regan,
Why don’t you answer your phone? Hope you’re okay.
I had a proper wobble about going to a gallery event and was stressing out, which was worse than normal because I was trying not to stress out in front of Mr Yomoda in case he thought I was nuts.
And when the student arrived I was getting chest pains it was that bad – and I was meant to be the one showing her the ropes. I thought all I was going to show her was how to have a public meltdown. But the student was more terrified than me! She was a tiny little thing called Hinata. It was her that painted the incredible cherry blossom picture – she’s so talented, but cripplingly shy. We talked a bit about art which calmed us both down and I gave her one of my hair bobbles to fiddle with which hopefully helped.
Did you know ‘anxious’ in Japanese is ‘shinpai shite’? I googled it! Turns out it’s not pronounced how it’s spelled, which is a shame because anxiety is shite.
Anyway the evening with Hinata was a success. Hinata was glued to my side the whole evening but I think that helped both of us.
