The Secret Life of Evie Hamilton - Catherine Alliott [113]
As I went to go downstairs, I glanced back and realized I hadn't drawn my bedroom curtains, which looked a bit slutty. I waddled back in and swept them aside, and that's when I saw them. At the bottom of the garden, sitting on the circular seat around the cherry tree. Bella and Ant. And why not, I thought as my hand nevertheless went straight to my mouth. I instinctively ducked back behind the curtain. Why not sit and chat – I peered round cautiously – catch up on all those years, discuss Stacey… Oxbridge interviews… whatever… So why was my heart beating so fast? So furiously?
I watched, fascinated, from behind the curtain. Their heads were close together and both were leaning forwards intently, hands clasped on knees, almost as if in prayer. Certainly deep in conversation. But I couldn't really see who was doing all the… I glanced behind me to our open suitcase: Ant's bird book and binoculars were stuffed in the side pocket. I lunged, seized the binos. Then I kneeled down under the windowsill and tried to focus. I'd never used these things before… oh, I see… twiddle the knobs… and… golly, amazing. It was as if the pair of them were right in front of me, huge, and beautifully focused. Ant's head was cocked as he listened intently to what Bella was saying. She seemed to be struggling to explain something, definitely a monologue, her lips moving rapidly, tongue swishing over them occasionally. Ant gazed at her intently, nodded occasionally and then he spoke… and then she said something back – how I wished these things had a microphone – and then they both looked at each other without speaking for a moment. As they gazed at each other, a lock of hair fell forward into her eyes. Gently, and in an unbearably sweet gesture, Ant reached out and tucked it back behind her ear.
‘Eh up, twitcher!’
I swung around in horror. Bella's father's bulk was filling the open doorway.
‘Oh!’ A curtain twitcher. I scrambled to my feet. Dropped the binos. ‘Oh, no, I was – I was watching the birds!’
‘Aye, like I say, a twitcher. A girl after my own heart. I come here sometimes to do just that. Got my own binos in here.’ He patted the black overnight bag he was carrying and crossed the room in one giant stride. ‘What 'ave you seen then, luv?’ He peered keenly out of the window. ‘A red kite? You get a few of them in these parts, whirling round those tree tops yonder.’
‘Yes,’ I croaked at length. ‘Yes, there was one… yonder… but it flew away.’
‘Where?’ He picked up the binoculars from the floor and raised them eagerly to his eyes. I pointed up high in the sky, in the top right-hand corner, well away from the cherry tree. Into the heavens. But he was lowering them even now, to where the action was. He gazed for a long moment. Lowered them and looked grave.
‘Tit,’ he muttered.
Tit? I cringed. What, me? Or her?
‘Some kind of tit. Probably greater crested. You get a lot of them in these parts, but I dare say not so much down South. You can see its yellow underparts, look.’
He handed the binoculars back to me. ‘In the cherry tree, just behind your Ant. See?’ I was grateful for the possessive article before my husband's name, and of his guiding hand, but mine were a bit sweaty, and all I got out of the binoculars was wobbling blur and fuzz.
‘Yes, I see it now,’ I breathed. ‘Very pretty. Lovely.’
‘Aye, and tha's what we need to keep focused on, eh?’ he said gently. ‘The lovely birds.’ His eyes were kind as they held mine a moment; then they drifted away out of the window. ‘But you keep your eyes peeled for the red kite, luv. That's a rare treat, that is.’
‘I certainly will,’ I whispered.
‘They've only just been reintroduced you know, back into the wild.’
‘Have they really?’
‘Aye, but you'll know that!’
‘Of course! How silly, I forgot.’
‘Aye, in fact if I remember rightly,