Page 25 of The House at Hope Corner
She let out a slow breath. She knew that the hens put themselves to bed automatically so it wasn’t a question of searching for them in the undergrowth, but perhaps instead they had been ambushed, attacked while they slept. Did hens even sleep? She didn’t know. She moved closer, circling the coop until she was back to where she started. Nothing.
Satisfied that she wasn’t about to come face to face with a wild animal intent on its dinner, she moved purposefully to the hutch and lifted the lid at one end. Taking a deep breath, she shone the light inside, and there, perched on the struts, presumably asleep, but very much alive and unmauled, were seven chickens. She breathed a huge sigh of relief.
It was at that point she realised how cold she was. And that the fine drizzle she had hardly noticed as she left the house had nonetheless managed to soak through the thin cotton of her pyjamas. She pulled the oilskin tighter around her and turned her face to the sky. What on earth was she doing here, in the middle of the night, in a dark, cold, muddy chicken coop? The few stars not covered by cloud winked back, but they had no answers for her and after a few more seconds she carefully secured the door to the coop and walked slowly back to the yard.
She paused for a moment and turned off the torch so she was standing in complete and utter darkness. It was hardly any more disorientating than the rest of the day had been. How had her world turned so completely upside down in such a short space of time? The morning had started off with promise as she had sat immersed in her artwork enjoying the glimmer of hope that her life at the farm was beginning to settle; there was routine and familiarity, she was with people she cared for, doing things she loved. But from there the day had rapidly disintegrated into chaos and she felt caught in a tide of things far beyond her control. And now, here she was, standing in the dark in the middle of the night, far from anything she could call home. How ironic that she had come to live at the house at Hope Corner when all hers seemed to have been well and truly dashed. She glanced back up to the sky, hoping for a glimpse of the moon, but that too was hidden from view. She could certainly do with some hope right now…
And then she thought of Ned, alone in their room, and she had a sudden overwhelming need to be back beside him. To feel his warm body against hers banishing the cold and doubt. As if reading her thoughts, Brodie shoved his wet nose against her hand, and together they hurried back to the house. She stripped off her wet things and left them beside the washing machine, padding naked through the still house until eventually she was able to crawl into the warm space that Ned had created, snuggling up against him.
‘Are you asleep?’ she whispered.
There was a soft sigh. ‘No… not yet.’ He turned over, pulling her into his arms. ‘Where have you been, you’re freezing?’ he murmured into her hair, not flinching at her cold limbs but instead enfolding his skin around hers.
‘I went to check on the hens,’ she said. ‘I thought they’d all been killed…’
‘Oh, Flora,’ was all he said, holding her tighter, and then the pair of them lay soundlessly waiting out the remaining few hours of the night.
* * *
Hannah apologised for her outburst in the morning. It was the first thing she said as she entered the kitchen.
‘I don’t know what came over me,’ she said. ‘I’m so embarrassed. What was I thinking?’
Flora crossed the room to stand in front of her, unsure whether to hug her or not. Although very caring, Hannah wasn’t a particularly demonstrative person, not like Flora’s family, who all threw their arms around each other at the drop of a hat. British reserve, that’s what it was, but she looked so small this morning, so much less of herself than normal. Flora put out a hand tentatively, but ended up stroking Hannah’s arm a little awkwardly when she made no move in response.
‘I don’t think any of us were thinking straight last night,’ said Flora. ‘It’s been a massive shock for everyone.’ She motioned to the table. ‘Come and sit down and I’ll get you a drink.’
‘But the hens…?’ Hannah’s eyes darted towards the door.
‘Are fine,’ replied Flora, smiling in a reassuring way. ‘I checked on them last night after you’d gone to bed,’ she explained. ‘Scared myself silly out there in the dark, but everything was okay. I had convinced myself I’d find them all ripped apart…’ She trailed off, realising that Hannah probably wouldn’t appreciate her graphic flights of imagination. ‘Anyway, they weren’t.’
Hannah sat down. ‘You went out last night?’ she asked. ‘On your own?’ Clearly it was not something she would have contemplated.
‘Well, I took Brodie…’ Flora nodded. ‘Ned was already in bed.’
She turned back to the Aga, lifting the kettle as it came to the boil. ‘I’ll go and feed them in a bit, make sure they’re none the worse for their nocturnal visitor, even if it was only me.’ She smiled, but Hannah still looked rather uncomfortable.
‘I don’t know what to say…’ she said. ‘Except thank you, that was a very thoughtful thing to do.’
Her words were a little stilted and Flora moved swiftly on, recognising the embarrassment that Hannah must be feeling. ‘Now, one cup of tea coming up and how about some breakfast? A bit of toast, or something a bit more substantial?’
Hannah stared at her in horror and then looked around her as if only just realising where she was. ‘Where’s Ned?’
Flora looked at her watch. ‘Milking,’ she replied. ‘He went out a little earlier this morning,’ she said gently. It was seven o’clock and Ned had already been gone for several hours.
‘But what are we going to do?’ Hannah’s voice was beginning to rise a little. Flora had been thinking much the same thing, and so had Ned. In fact, as they took their first cup of tea together a little after four this morning, the conversation had centred on little else. But they had come up with a plan…
She poured the boiling water into the teapot and brought it to the table where two mugs were already waiting. Then she sat down, opposite Hannah, and tried to relax, hoping that her posture might communicate itself across the space between them. Hannah looked crumpled. Her normally smooth hair was unbrushed and there was a large greasy smudge right in the centre of her glasses, which Flora thought must be incredibly annoying. She was wearing yesterday’s clothes too.
‘Ned and I have been chatting,’ Flora began. ‘And I’ve already rung the hospital so firstly, you needn’t worry. Fraser had a good night and is quite comfortable.’ She wasn’t quite sure what Hannah’s expectations were about the day, but Ned had suggested that it might be better to have certain things put into place. That way Hannah might be less inclined to fret… ‘The nurse explained that he will have a couple more tests this morning and will then see the consultant around eleven who will be the one to decide what happens next. Apparently we won’t get any more information until then.’ She picked up a spoon and gave the tea a stir.
‘I see,’ said Hannah. ‘That doesn’t sound very good. Why doesn’t anyone want to act with any urgency? It was the same last night.’
‘I think perhaps that’s a good thing…? He isn’t considered an emergency, you see.’
‘But he is an emergency. To me he is!’
Flora smiled. ‘I know he is, Hannah, I know. And we can go and see him just as soon as you want to. There’s open visiting on the ward he’s on, but the nurse did say that there’s really little point until later on this morning, after the consultant’s been,’ she repeated. ‘I’m sure he’s in safe hands.’
