I feel a tug of sadness as I think about them leaving before the end of our summer. But it’s only fair. And if the kids do resent Kate for lying to them, it’ll be better if they can work through that. What was it I said about rotting fruit?
Theo looks up at Mabel and Callum. “What do you think? Cal? Mabel?”
“Alright,” they both say. But they’ve brightened up considerably.They’re clearly relieved we’ve found a resolution and another argument hasn’t erupted.
I’m also proud that I managed to contain my annoyance. “Brill,” I chirp.
“Great,” says Kate, with a smile that seems authentic.
We say goodbye.
But now I’m even more desperate for the party to happen.
Chapter 48
“How’s it going, Giuseppe? Any news?”
Our head builder is looking hot and bothered. “Adam, I tell you again,” he says, wiping his brow with a muscled arm, “I find you when we know.”
“Sorry, sorry!”
I’m waiting to discover if the roof of the cottage can be patched up and can hardly contain myself. Neither can Theo. Already this morning, he’s done two loads of laundry and hung it out to dry, while I gave the kitchen a deep clean—ready for the party that may or may not happen.
It doesn’t help that Callum and Mabel are also on edge, scrolling through their phones, their earphones jammed in. Archie, however, knows nothing about the drama. We’ve decided we’ll only tell him if it’s bad news and will affect him. Blissfully unaware of the tension, he asks Theo if they can check on the wasp traps.
“I’ll come too!” I almost shriek.
“Woo-woo!” says Archie, jumping up and down.
Theo and Archie take me around the three traps they created, using plastic water bottles with their tops cut off and inverted, their rims smeared with jam to attract the wasps, and their insides filled with vinegar to poison and drown them. When we check thefirst trap, we find the bodies of several dead wasps floating in the vinegar. Theo and Archie use an old wooden spoon to fish them out.
“Dad, what do waspsdo?” asks Archie.
“I think they spread pollen, like bees,” answers Theo. “And they eat little insects that attack our crops, so they’re part of the food chain.”
Archie frowns. “I don’t like them.”
I smile and tilt my head. “I don’t think anybody does. But that doesn’t mean they’re bad.”
“So why are we killing them?” he says.
Theo takes the dead wasps and tosses them over the hillside. “Good point.”
But it’s a point neither of us knows how to answer.
By the time we’re emptying the third trap, it’s become clear that however many wasps we catch, we’re never going to get rid of them completely: everywhere we look, they’re still buzzing around flowers or grapes.
“They must have a nest somewhere,” says Theo.
Archie stands up, his eyes bulging. “Can we find it?”
Theo contorts his face. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, squirt.”
Once again, I remember Angelika saying Wilf embraced all aspects of nature, good and bad. And once again, I think that living here, there isn’t really any alternative. Besides, as soon as we’ve gone, nature will just resume its advance.
“I’ve got an idea,” I say. “Why don’t we stop killing them and leave them alone?”
Theo pauses, his spoon plunged in the vinegar. “I suppose they haven’t actually stung any of us. What do you think, squirt?”
