Lizzie

When she was about half way, the sky seemed to be getting a bit brighter and the rain became less strong. Lizzie heaved a sigh. It was better, that way, she thought. Much better. She hadn't felt unsafe, but it was good to have less frightening circumstances.

When she reached home in the late afternoon the wind was rising. It wasn't too bad yet, and the rain had almost stopped, but she was really glad to be home. She carried the little cupboard indoors, and fetched her bag from the car. Then she found Dan's landline number and told him she'd safely arrived.

"Excellent! Was it very bad?"

"The first half was, rather - but then things picked up. It's good I left early. The wind is growing a little too strong now."

"Okay. It's moaning about the barn here like a coven of demented witches. I was getting a little worried. Good to hear your voice!"

"There wasn't any danger, really. Oh well, I'm glad to be home. But I had a smashing time. Thank you very much. I am looking forward to having you here."

"I will try and see you in November. Thank you for putting up with me!"

They talked for a little while longer and then rang off.

Lizzie smiled at the memory. November. Mmm, that would be some four weeks? Yes, roughly. Okay.

She unpacked the cupboard and carried it up the eight steps to the living room. There was a nice little space left, and she put it there. It blended well with the other furniture. She opened the door, and dusted the shelves, and then she collected the prints she wanted to keep in it. There! That was nice. As an afterthought she fetched the picture of the barn from the studio, but before she put it in she put it up against the wall and sat looking at it for some time.

It was really clearly Dan she'd painted into it, and the woman did look suspiciously like herself. It was a good picture, she thought. When she had satisfied her mind about it she put it on top of the sheets on the top shelf and closed the door. Then she went to the study to put the money from the picture in a strongbox. She would take it to the bank that Monday.

She went to the kitchen and made herself a bite to eat, and after a light dinner she poured herself a drink and took it into the living room. She put the CD with the five songs into the CD player but for once it didn't feel good listening to it. She switched it off again and just sat thinking about her trip. Dan's voice had grown even better in the intervening years. He had a nice voice, both speaking and singing. She preferred it to his younger voice. She thought it was probably having heard him recently that made playing his old songs a bit uncomfortable.

She looked at the room, with its dark bookcases and all the books and records she'd managed to stuff into it. It was a bit cluttered, actually. Dan's room was roomier, almost as if it was easier to breathe in there.

She finished her drink, and wondered if she should have another one, but she decided against it. Bedtime.

XVII

That Sunday the wind was at it all day. Lizzie remembered Dan's demented witches as she sat listening to the way it howled around the chimney and rattled the tiles. She found out later that a big oak down the lane had had its crown blown off, and that the neighbours' garden shed had lost its roof. The tarpaper was eventually found further down in the valley, and the wood lay scattered all over old Bob Wilkin's meadow. She made a face - knowing Bob, it might be lying there for a long time.

While it was going on, though, she stayed indoors, looking at the weather outside, and listening to the wind and rain. She certainly could not have driven back home under these circumstances, that much she knew.

The weather forecast for Monday was a bit uncertain. One scenario said it would continue in the same vein, but the other said it would be quite bright, and the wind would drop. She sincerely hoped the latter one would come true, so she could take her money to the bank and go and visit Kevin.

She felt restless inside. But going out was no option; big branches got blown off the trees, and she didn't want to end up in hospital. It was too dark to do any work, and she didn't feel like reading or listening to music, so she just wandered rather aimlessly up and down the house. Eventually she got so fed up doing nothing that she decided to get her music arranged alphabetically. It was a good idea that had her occupied all day. She found that there were some fifteen doubles that she put aside to give to Dan if he hadn't got them yet - he did have a lot, but maybe not all of those. She was quite proud of herself when she was ready. She would be able to take out any album without hunting for it, just like Dan. Moreover she had come across a few records she'd forgotten were in her collection, and she took them out again to play.

That afternoon she remembered that Dan had said he would send her his poems, and she opened her email. He had, and she read them again. Then she made prints, and she took them to the studio and pinned them on the notice board. She nodded. She would try and sleep on them some time.

She had an early dinner of salad and potatoes with a few boiled eggs, and she turned in very early. Hopefully the weather would change in the night.

She lay in bed, tossing and turning, being quite unable to sleep. She wished there were someone there to talk to. She wished even more there were someone to cuddle up to. Zeb, or Dan... She sat up, feeling shocked. Was that why he had appeared in her picture of the barn? Was that why the woman in the picture looked like her?

She tried to block Dan firmly from her thoughts by thinking of Zeb. They had always slept closely together, nice and cosy and sweet... She thought of his face. He had been a wonderful husband, committed, sweet, helpful and courteous. She'd always wanted someone quite like him. Dan was much too old.

That was nonsense, though. He was a few years older than she was, yes. But she would feel rather unhappy with a fifteen year younger boyfriend. That was one of the problems, Zeb had become firmly fixed in the past, thirteen years ago, and time went on. Now did she like Dan that way? Or was it rather that he was Zeb's friend? She tried to see what she would think of him if he were just someone completely unconnected to her past. She thought it wouldn't really make a difference. He wouldn't have been different either. He noticed things, and he was helpful and sweet, just what a girl needed. She sighed and shook her thoughts off, like a splash of rain. Time to go to sleep. She wouldn't reach a conclusion now anyway.

She lay back and thought of the weather, and she tried to imagine what Kevin would want her to do about Jane's new text, and eventually she dropped off. She didn't dream; at least she didn't remember having done so when she woke up. There was a faint sun coming through the clouds. Great!

Lizzie spent the morning on domestic chores and going to the shops, and she took most of the money to the bank. Then she set off on her drive to town, with some nice music for on the way. It was a beautiful, slightly hazy autumn afternoon and she highly enjoyed the drive - rather a contrast with last Saturday's!

She sat tapping the steering wheel and humming along, and looking at the well-known road to town, the bends and the clumps of trees, the occasional farmhouse, and she told herself how much she loved this area. Beautiful!

The drive was too short to her liking. Before she knew she had arrived at the office. She hoped Kevin would not be too talkative; he sometimes just kept on talking and talking and talking, driving his points home with an elegant twist of his hands, and then she could hardly get her questions heard. He wasn't too often in a mood like that, but if he was...

He wasn't. He was to the point and helpful, and it only took them two hours to get everything straight. Then they went to town for coffee, a little gossip and some talk. Kevin wanted to know if she had sold her painting, and she told him a little about her weekend - just the things she didn't mind anyone to know. She really liked Kev, but boy, did he talk. If you wanted the world to know, telling Kev was the best thing you could ever do. But he was an entertaining talker alright.

After the restaurant she walked back to the car, whistling. She felt happy. The new task was a nice one and she was looking forward to doing a good job. She wondered how long it would take her; she would be well on her way if Dan did come along, so she would have something to show him. Yes. Good idea!

Before she started the engine she changed CDs, and put Lee Ann Womack in the player. She had played the album a few times recently, and knew it well enough to sing along. Then she turned the key, let in the clutch and off she went.

The fog had lifted completely, and the low sun added a beautiful glow to the hills. Lizzie loved every moment of her drive, singing along and tapping the rhythm with her fingers on the wheel, keenly taking in the view. She was a safe driver, and she never took any chances, but looking didn't make a difference. She grinned. Zeb had disliked driving; he would never drive if he could leave it to her, and she thought it had been a perfect arrangement. She usually had to stop herself from driving along... It wasn't a good thing to do but then, some people really seemed to have their eyes anywhere but on the road.

She always saw what was happening on the road, and she anticipated other people's behaviour. It helped, and it made driving much more laidback.

She wondered if she would see any badgers if she drove by night. She didn't think there weren't too many there. She had made a couple of sketches of the big animal, but she wished she could see it again; it had been all too brief. Things like that made life worth the effort. Mmm. She grinned a little at herself.

The drive home was all too short; she regretfully got out of her car and went back into the house. She put her bag into the studio and then she inspected her fridge. There didn't seem to be anything there she'd like to have. Seemed like a good excuse to go and have a meal at the pub, and maybe find someone to talk to. She nodded, put on her working clothes and went out into the garden to do some coordinated raking and pruning. The weather was mild enough today.

She worked for ninety minutes and then decided to call it a day. She changed back into her dress, looked into the mirror to see if her face looked alright, and collected her coat. Then she locked the door and walked to the Oak.

It was rather quiet. There was a couple of strangers having a meal, and there were a few young people standing at the bar, trying to butter up to the barmaid. When she caught Anne's eye she winked. Anne grinned back; she was used to it, and impermeable to any flattery.

Lizzie ordered salmon and steamed vegetables, and a gin and tonic, and she took her drink to one of the tables. No luck, she thought. She sat thinking a little, trying to envisage the badgers, when Charles came in. He greeted her with a wave of his hand and went to the bar for a pint of bitter. Then he walked over to her place.

"Evening, lass. Mind if I share your table?"

"Hi, Charles. Please do! How's life?"

Charles sat down, and grinned. "Great," he said. "I have been practicing a lot, and my, Zeb's mandolin is even better than my old one. I am looking forward to the next folk night, I am. So anything new?"

"Just nice and quiet. Working, and enjoying life. Visited a friend on Friday, and had to drive back through Saturday's awful weather. But today was beautiful. Hey, maybe you know that? Are there any badgers about in the neighbourhood? I have been trying to draw them but I am not sure about the details. I saw one out there in the dark, in the headlights of Dan's car."

"Dan? Who's he?"

"An old friend of Zeb's. I chanced upon him on the walk."

"Oh. Okay. Well, yes, I have come across a few setts on my walks."

"Setts?"

"Badger's burrows. If you want to see them you'll have to be patient and hope they come out before it is too dark. Would you like me to take you there?"

"Oh yes, please. That would be fantastic."

"Mind you, you may not see any. They don't like company."

"No, I understand that. I can be very quiet."

"I know. You're no blatherer. That's one of the things I like about you."

Lizzie grinned. It was a great compliment, coming from Charles.

"Thank you," she said. "I wish I could play an instrument. But it seems I can only harmonise a little... My fingers never worked out right. Zeb tried to teach me the guitar. Oh well, we had lots of laughs."

"It takes a lot of time. I don't know - seeing as you are good at harmonising the autoharp would have been a better idea perhaps."

"Okay. We didn't have one. I don't think Zeb knew how to play it."

"No. Pity, really. Anyway, shall I pick you up tomorrow evening at dusk? We can go and seek out those badgers."

"Yes, please! That would be wonderful."

Anne beckoned Lizzie from the bar. "Food's ready!"

"Excuse me a moment," Lizzie said.

She came back with her plate and put it on the table. "I'll have one more drink" she said. "Can I get you another pint?"

"Yes please."

Lizzie went and returned with two glasses, and put the drinks on the table.

Charles thanked her and smiled, and Lizzie started eating.

The food was as good as ever, and she paid homage to it alright. Charles sat sipping his lager, looking at her eat and making the odd observation now and then.

When she'd returned her plate to the bar they talked a little longer, about the new songs Charles had been practising and about the storm. The door of Charles's garden shed had blown open, and a lot of water had been blown inside. Fortunately he had noticed. And her place? Everything fine, she said. She mentioned the wood and the tarpaper. Charles nodded. Bob Wilkin was getting too old and frail for that sort of thing, he said. He'd go and have a look, and try to do something about it.

Lizzie called it a day at half past nine. "Time to go home," she said. "See you tomorrow!"

Charles nodded. "I'll come and pick you up."

He waved at her when she looked back in the door. He was a nice man. She wondered how long he had been a widower now... It must be lonely out there.

When she was home she first went into the studio to have a good look at her sketches of the badgers. Then she read the poems Dan had sent her, so she could work on something unrelated to her new commission, while gestating that. She went to sleep thinking about the pictures evoked by the words.

XVIII

Tuesday was a brilliant day. Lizzie woke up with a precise idea of how she wanted the pictures of Dan's poem to be, and she lost no time after breakfast getting to work on them. She first made her usual faint sketches and then started to work them out in gouache. She spent all morning and a little part of the afternoon on the first one, a picture of some autumnal wood. When she was ready she wasn't quite certain if the picture was alright for a while, so she went to the kitchen for a cup of tea and tried to recall her dreams at the kitchen table. It took a little longer than usual, but when the image returned and she went back to the studio it was exactly what she'd had in mind.

The second one just seemed to flow from her brushes. She was whistling tunelessly between her teeth while working, and she was really enjoying herself. She worked it out with a lot of greens and oranges, and she paid a lot of attention to the sky, with white clouds in the foreground, running to purple in the distance. When she had finished it, in just a little over two hours, she took the wooden board it was on into the kitchen, and put it in the table to look at it. She was really happy with it, and she wondered if it was some place she had visited but forgotten about, or if it was a figment of her imagination - her artistic imagination as Kev would say. Artistic imagination my foot, she thought. He probably used that kind of jargon to sell pictures at the gallery. But most painters just followed some urge rather than their imagination. The best pictures just pressed themselves on you, like the one of the pub had done - it had just clamoured to be painted.

So had this one. She had felt driven while working on it, and if she had been a smoker, the cigarette would have gone out without her noticing. It had happened like that when she still smoked, some twenty-five years ago... She had called it a day when she had a bad cold and she'd never felt the need to start again. Zeb had wondered a little, but he had followed her example when he noticed she never coughed any more once she'd stopped.

She had another cuppa. She loved holding the hot mug in her hands, sniffing the tea before drinking it. It was getting a little less light. In under an hour Charlie would be there to show her the sett. She hoped they would be lucky and see the badger come out of its burrow.

When she'd finished her tea she collected her walking boots from the shed and put her parka on the chair in the hall. Then she sat down to read, waiting for Charlie to arrive.

He arrived earlier than she'd expected.

"We had better be there in time," he said. "I think I know where a bear may leave his sett, but we must be there well before he does - we have to be off-wind, and it won't do for us to be walking along. So, you see, we may have to wait quite a bit. That ok?"

Lizzie nodded. "Yes of course," she said. "It's the way things work, right? I'm not just out for a nice walk in the dark."

Charles grinned. "You're level-headed, fortunately. I like that."

Lizzie smiled at him while she put on her boots and her windbreaker. "Do I bring anything?"

"No. The less you bring the better. The moon will be enough to see by, if there is anything to see. Ready? Then we'll go."

Charles led the way across the village and then on to the edge of Birk's Wood.

"When we go in, just follow me," he said. "It's light enough now, and it won't be too dark. I will take you to a fork in the path, and then we have to go inside a little. The badger will come out onto the path first, and follow it a little, so you can have a good look, and then it will disappear into the shrubs. When it's gone we'll walk back. We may have to stay put for thirty to forty minutes, though, and if it hasn't appeared then, that's just plain bad luck."

"Okay. We will have to take our chances there, won't we? I don't mind waiting."

"Good. Alright, just you follow me."

It was rather dark in the wood at first, but after a little while Lizzie got accustomed to the light. She actually could see quite a lot, and when they had arrived at Charles's chosen spot the moon shone brightly on the stretch of path that he had pointed out to her, while putting his finger on his lips. Lizzie had nodded; she wouldn't have talked anyway.

She stood quietly watching the area, prepared to stay at the spot for perhaps an hour, meanwhile thinking how nice it was of Charles to take her there. She had thought he was the only person she knew who might have an idea about this sort of thing; and apparently he did. She looked at him for a moment and smiled.

Then she concentrated on possible movements again. She hoped she would be in luck, and to her delight Charles softly touched her shoulder after about twenty-five minutes. She saw a big badger come into the path. It walked more quickly than she'd expected, and it seemed to be intent on food, because it started rooting the patch of grass alongside the path. She tried to take in the details of the head and back, and it's general appearance in the pale light. It was a really beautiful animal. She hadn't done too badly sketching the one she'd seen from the car; she roughly had the details right.