‘You really do need to get out of here, Isobel,’ I said gently, over the sound of scattergun counting. ‘Ross needs the house back and it’s truly not a safe place to live.’
Isobel was still for a moment, her eyes going to the window, to the trees beyond, bearing their load of black birds like overripe fruit.
But where could I go?
Clang, clang. ‘Three, four, nine, seven.’
Then Ross sighed. ‘Look,’ he said. ‘I could give you the shed until the cabin house is ready. It’s got gas, I can hitch up a solar panel, we already have a water tank for the tea. It won’t be great, but it would do until we can get the little house liveable.’
A moment of scribbling.
That is very kind of you. Can I think about it?
He almost slumped with relief. ‘Of course.’ Then, with a little more animation, ‘The birds will be fine down at that end of the wood and the men will leave you alone.’
Men?
‘My workmen. They use the shed as a sort of HQ at the moment, but we can move that into the transporter units while we’re sorting those out. I can spare a couple of people to get started there while the rest are beginning on this place.’
Isobel’s eyes came up from the paper, rested for a moment on me and then went to Tilly, who was now lying on Brass, thumb in her mouth, rolling the black diamonds around like marbles. There was a curious expression gathered between Isobel’s greying hair and her silent mouth, something that made me shiver almost as much as the birds beyond the window.
I don’t like men.
A premonition prickled in the air. I had the urge to gather Tilly close to me and whisper,Me neither, but I didn’t.
‘But I’m all right?’ Ross asked eventually, sounding a little bit sheepish.
Isobel shook herself.
Of course you are. You’re not a threat, you are a good man.
She stared at the paper for a moment and then added:
Probably.
Another moment of deep thought and she turned the paper over and wrote:
Please go now. I have to think about what to do. And this place might not be safe for the child.
‘Bit late to worry about that now,’ I muttered, side-eyeing the streaks of damp running down the wall and bundling Tilly up, despite her wails that she was ‘Playing!’ and enforced abandonment of her ‘balls’.
Ross and I found ourselves standing outside the derelict cottage, with a tantrumming toddler and an attitude of confusion.
‘At least she didn’t say no to the shed,’ Ross muttered. ‘Although I must admit that I could have thought of something rather better to call it. Perhaps I should have asked if she’d like to stay in the site office. Shed sounds rather basic, doesn’t it?’
‘Itisrather basic though.’ I picked Tilly up and tried to engage her interest in the birds currently wheeling through the tiny window of sky visible between the tree branches above our heads.
‘I know,’ he said sadly. ‘But it’s all I’ve got. We can have the containers made liveable in a couple of weeks but she needs to be out of here before I can doanything.’ He dropped his face into his hands. ‘I’m stuck.’
Tilly stopped yelling and gazed at Ross. ‘Pee bo?’ she asked cautiously.
He opened two fingers and peeped out at her between them. ‘I think pee bo rather sums up how I’m feeling just now, Tilly.’
She giggled with delight and I was just relieved that the tantrum appeared to be over. I was about to suggest that we head back to our cars, when a noise further into the wood made me startle. It was a crack, as though a large branch had been trodden on by a considerable weight and it make saliva flood into my mouth and my face became taut, as though my skin wanted to creep away from me and hide.
‘What’s that?’ I spun around, trying to see where the noise had come from. ‘Who’s there?’
Ross put a hand on my arm. ‘It’s probably a deer or a rabbit or something.’
