Page 27 of Hope and Happiness in Bluebell Wood
But even the trees couldn’t absorb all my anxiety today, and my thoughts soon returned to the quiz. Jonah had popped round to the cottage yesterday to check I was still okay to take part. He’d told me the team were ‘at home’ tonight, so all I needed to do was turn up at the pub and they would all look after me.
All I needed to do.
Five words. Easy to say. Not so easy to do. Not for me, anyway.
‘Stop thinking about it!’ I say out loud in frustration. ‘Stop worrying; it’s not going to help, is it?’
But telling myself not to worry was, as usual, easier said than done.
Determined my anxiety wasn’t going to win this time, I thrust my hands into my pockets and begin to stomp along the soft spongy ground below my feet. But my hand catches on something in the pocket of my cardigan and I pull the plastic triangle from it.
‘Maybe you can be my lucky charm,’ I say, looking down at the Trivial Pursuit wedge. ‘After all, you do represent the history category in the game, don’t you?’
As Merlin and I continue our walk, I find myself smiling. It was only something small and insignificant, but as I grasp the wedge tightly in my hand, I do feel a little calmer, and anything that helped me to feel like that was worth more to me than carrying a precious diamond would have been.
At seven o’clock that night Merlin and I stand in the hall of the cottage. I have my coat on, and Merlin has his lead attached to his collar, so we’re ready to leave. The only problem is I haven’t yet stepped forward and put my hand on the door handle.
Merlin looks up at me.
‘I know,’ I tell him. ‘I know we’ve been standing here too long. But I’m not sure I can do it.’
Merlin sits down next to my leg, patiently waiting, and not for the first time since we’d arrived in the little hallway, I sigh.
‘Come on, Ava, you can do this,’ I tell myself. ‘A little quiz in the village pub is safe. Nothing is going to happen to you there.’
I’d even rung the pub at lunchtime today to check it was okay to bring Merlin tonight. I hadn’t left the cottage without him since I’d arrived in Bluebell Wood, and I was a little scared to now – actually, I wasveryscared to.
But the pub landlord had been lovely, and said they very much welcomed dogs. He and his wife had two Border terriers themselves, and were huge dog lovers.
I’d ended the call with mixed feelings – yes it was great I could take Merlin to the quiz tonight; any bit of extra support was going to be very helpful in getting me through the door. But I knew a part of me had secretly hoped they’d say no I couldn’t bring him, then I’d have used it as an excuse not to be able to go, saying I couldn’t leave him alone at the cottage.
‘Come on, Ava,’ I say again. ‘If you don’t leave soon you’ll be late.’
Merlin is now lying down by my side. He looks like he might be about to nod off.
‘I’m sorry,’ I tell him. ‘I’m being very silly, I know.’
Suddenly, I hear a commotion coming from outside the front door. I glance out of the narrow lattice window at the side and see a cat swiping its paw at some ornamental rocks in the little front garden.
‘What on earth is he doing?’ I say to Merlin.
Then I see the cat trying to get his paw between the rocks – he must have something trapped in there!
Without thinking, I open up the front door a little and try to shoo the cat away. But the cat just turns its head and looks at me for a moment, before quickly turning back to continue its quest to get its furry paw in between the rocks.
‘Merlin,’ I call, looking behind the door to a now wide-awake Merlin. ‘It’s your time to shine!’
I open the door wide so Merlin sees the cat at the same time as the cat sees him.
Merlin shoots forward, his ears pricked up and his tail poker straight behind him. The startled cat stares at him for a couple of seconds before concluding that it might be in his best interests to leave now. He leaps up on to the gate, gives Merlin one last look, then disappears over the other side and into a nearby bush.
‘Well done you,’ I tell Merlin, patting him and ruffling his fur. ‘We make a good team – yes?’
But now Merlin has become interested in what is behind the rocks; he pulls tightly towards them on his lead.
‘You just wait there,’ I tell him, tethering his lead to the gatepost.
I walk back towards the rocks, and gently move one away from the pile. Trapped in the middle of the stones is a slightly dishevelled-looking blackbird. It stares fearfully up at me.
