Page 18 of The Beekeeper's Cottage
‘Then you will have a slightly different opportunity to forge the life you want. The path it leads to may be different but the opportunity is still there. Don’t let it slip through your fingers.’
Grace nodded and indicated that they should continue walking, turning her face away. Amos would have liked to have said more but he could sense that Grace was struggling with her emotions and needed a few minutes to collect herself. He let her walk slightly ahead, following as they made their way up the hill towards the beehives. It seemed as if an age had passed since Amos had taken that very same route earlier in the day.
Attuned as his ears were to the sounds around him, they had gone only a matter of a few yards up the slope when Amos suddenly stopped. He could hear something vibrating, almost like a hum but deeper in tone although it was hard to decipher just where it was coming from as the trees deflected the sound. He walked forwards, concentrating, overtaking Grace as he quickened his pace.
‘You have very good hearing,’ came the voice from behind him. ‘Most people don’t even notice.’
‘What is it?’
Grace came to stand beside him. ‘The bees…’
‘But it sounds like it’s coming out of the bowels of the earth. Like some huge machine coming to life.’ Now that he knew where the sound originated from, he moved a little closer to one of the hives.
‘What are theydoing?’ he whispered. ‘Holding mass or something?’
She smiled. ‘No, they’re cooling the hive… The noise you can hear is thousands of tiny wings all beating at once. Clever, isn’t it?’
Amos’s mouth had fallen open. ‘I had no idea they even did such a thing.’
‘They are their own air-conditioning system. It’s their busiest time of year and honey production is at its height just now. They have to remove most of the water from the nectar they’ve gathered in order to make honey and this raises the temperature and humidity levels inside the hive. By beating their wings en masse they set up currents of air and it helps to regulate it.’
And now something else was literally buzzing around Amos’s head because his thoughts were coming thick and fast.
‘How long have you been a beekeeper, Grace?’ he asked.
‘Too long… It makes me remember how old I am.’
‘And have you ever thought about passing on your skills to anyone else?’
‘Like who? Who’d be interested? Most folk just pick a jar of honey off the shelf and like it that way. They don’t want to know how it gets there.’
‘Well I would…’ He broke off, thinking some more. ‘Grace, can I make a deal with you?’ he said.
She narrowed her eyes. ‘Go on,’ she said. ‘What am I about to let myself in for now?’
The more Amos thought about it, the more it seemed like the perfect solution. And it certainly answered the questions he had about why he was there. He rubbed the back of his neck.
‘Are you going to think about Flora’s suggestion? Seriously, I mean.’
Grace sighed. ‘I admit, right now, I just want to curl up somewhere and not have to think about anything much, but, yes, I will. I have to, Amos, I have no choice. And I am not giving up this house.’ A hint of steel had crept into her tone.
‘Then, as you said earlier, there will be things that need doing. Only you can decide what those need to be, but I can pretty much turn my hand to anything of a practical nature and I’m going to be around for a bit working on the cottage at the farm. If I promise to help with whatever you need, would you teach me about the miracle of your bees, Grace?’
She was so still, he thought for a moment that he might have offended her, that he had pressed her too hard to think about things she wasn’t ready for yet. But then he saw a ghost of a smile flicker across her face.
‘Thank you for accompanying me home, Amos,’ she said. ‘But I think I’d like to go the rest of the way alone now.’
It wasn’t a rebuke, her voice was soft.
‘Of course.’ He took a step backwards. ‘Goodnight, Grace.’
‘Goodnight.’ She turned to go. ‘Oh, and Amos?’
He stood among the birdsong and the humming of the bees. His eyes met hers.
‘I’ll give you your answer tomorrow.’
7
