Part 29 (1/2)

'Tessss.'

She stopped, frozen to the spot, her big ears listening. Although her hare's brain could not interpret human speech, the sound of her own name was unmistakable to Tess. For a moment it seemed that the sound must have been her imagination, but then it came again, a sibilant, far-carrying whisper which seemed to originate all around her at once.

'Tessss.'

Someone was watching, someone who knew who she was and what she was doing. Her instinct was to Switch, and fast; a bird would be the best way to escape. But as though it knew her thoughts better than she did, the raven chose that moment to swish above her head, so close to the treetops that it almost touched them.

'Tessss.'

Her hare brain was urging her to run and she would have complied if her human brain could decide which direction to take. But suddenly, in her panic, she had no idea where she was, and which direction led to the crag and which led away from it. She found herself running, dodging between the trees, thwarting the hare's instincts and heading for light and open s.p.a.ce. A moment later she was back at the edge of the woods, and as she burst out past the blackthorn she Switched. But the voice was still there, still behind her.

'Come in, Tessss. Come in.'

The thorns snagged at her clothes and her skin, but her momentum was too strong for her to be able to stop or even slow down and she landed hard on the stony ground beyond, winding herself badly. As she picked herself up and began to examine the thorn-wounds on her arms, the unmistakable sound of delighted laughter rang out through the woods.

Back in the farmhouse kitchen, the smell of fresh baking made Tess feel ravenous. Brian was pouring tea into mugs.

'What have you done to yourself?' asked Aunt Deirdre, pulling up Tess's blood-stained sleeves and examining her scratched arms.

'I'm OK, thanks,' said Tess. 'I just had an argument with a bush.'

Brian snickered and Tess made a face at him. She bit into a steaming scone and wondered why it was that food always tasted so much better after a spell in the open air. Through the window she could see Colm splas.h.i.+ng about with a bucket of water and a plastic jug. The family weren't so bad, really, and for the first time since she had arrived Tess felt comfortable and relaxed.

'I went up into the woods,' she said. 'Over there at the bottom of the crag.'

Aunt Deirdre glanced at her sharply. 'You might be better to stay away from there,' she said.

Tess's skin crawled. 'Why?'

'She's scared of the fairies,' said Brian. 'Take no notice of her.'

A sudden flash of white at the window made Tess look up. The white cat was there again, sitting on the outer sill, staring in.

'There it is,' said Tess. 'I knew I'd seen a cat.' She turned to Brian, but he was giving her that look again, like the time in the milking parlour; a worried, mistrustful look.

'Pay no attention to it,' said Aunt Deirdre. 'It's only a stray. Would you like another scone?' But before Tess could reply, the domestic storm erupted again. Without warning, the door to the hall burst open and Uncle Maurice swept in, dampening the mood instantly and putting everyone on edge. Brian jumped up to get him a mug of tea.

'Four hundred quid,' said Uncle Maurice, bitterly. 'Four hundred, flamin' quid, just to get rid of a few flamin' rats!'

'My G.o.d,' said Aunt Deirdre, but it was more in the way of a practised response than a genuine expression of surprise.

'Four hundred quid,' Uncle Maurice said again. He seemed dazed.

'And what do they do for it?' asked Aunt Deirdre.

'They get rid of the flamin' rats, don't they?'

'I know that. But how?'

'How should I know? Poison them, gas them, I don't know.'

Tess felt sick. She would have to warn the rats in time.

'When are they coming?' she asked.

'Whenever I ask them to,' said her uncle. 'If I ask them to. If I can find four hundred quid!'

'We'll have to find it,' said Aunt Deirdre. 'I'm sure they were in the house last night.'

'And there are two of them drowned in the water b.u.t.t,' said Brian. 'There must be millions of them around the place.'

Uncle Maurice shook his head. 'We can't be living with that, sure,' he said. 'Four hundred quid or no four hundred quid, they'll have to go.'

When Tess had finished her tea, Aunt Deirdre asked her to hang out a load of was.h.i.+ng on the line. She was just pegging out the last few things when Orla called her from inside the house.

Tess ran in.

'Your boyfriend,' said Orla, handing her the phone.

Tess scowled at her and shook her head. 'h.e.l.lo?' she said.

'Is that Tess?'

'Kevin! That's amazing. I was just thinking about you.'

'I bet.'

'Well, it was yesterday, actually, But I was, honestly. Wis.h.i.+ng you were here.'

'Well, then. Your prayers are answered. I'm on my way.'

'Oh, yeah,' said Tess, sarcastically. 'Sure you are.'

Kevin laughed. 'I am. I really am. I'm coming for a holiday. A guy I know has a van and he's coming that way. I've borrowed a bike and a tent off Martin. Do you think that I'd forget your birthday?'

Tess's heart warmed towards him. 'You're brilliant, you know that?' she said.

'Yeah. But unfortunately I'm not rich. I'll only have a few quid left by the time I've bought a bit of grub. Any jobs down that way?'

Tess knew that getting money out of Uncle Maurice was like trying to get blood out of a stone. But, for some reason, the figure of four hundred pounds popped into her mind.

'Not unless you can ...' She stopped, thinking it through.

'Can what?' asked Kevin.

'Come to think of it,' said Tess, 'there just might be. If we play our cards right, that is.'