A Place of Secrets: A Novel by Rachel Hore

Author:Rachel Hore [Hore, Rachel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781429950121
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2012-01-31T06:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 24

Jude felt absurdly pleased when Euan rang early on Monday morning, asking if she’d like to join him for a walk. “I need to come up with a piece about orchids for a nature website,” he said, “so I thought I’d go and see what’s happening locally. Want to come?”

His voice sounded casual but Jude still couldn’t help hoping he wanted to see her. For a second she weighed up the work she needed to get through versus a walk with Euan. It was no contest. She’d look at the notes for her article when she got back, though there wouldn’t be much time. She remembered her arrangement to go over and see Gran later. Oh, she deserved a break.

“If you don’t mind my complete ignorance of the subject,” she told him, “yes, I’d love an orchid hunt.”

“Good. Come to the house in half an hour?”

When she arrived at the back door of the cottage he kissed her hello, but not so she knew it meant anything but friendship.

“How was lunch yesterday?” she asked as he shouldered his backpack and they set off up the lane.

“Very nice,” was all he said. “Your sister’s a great cook. It’s not often I get a full roast dinner.”

“Yes, she is,” Jude replied, wondering whether he was oblivious to Claire’s charms or just keeping his cards close to his chest.

They climbed the hill, but this time Euan took a path to the left, on the other side of the road to the folly. This footpath was at first overgrown with nettles and brambles, but soon they passed into a thick, wooded area where the canopy blocked out the light and little could grow. It had rained sometime during the night. The trees dripped patiently, and everything was fresh and sweet-smelling.

“Where do we look?” Jude asked. “I’m afraid I’m not very good at this kind of thing.”

“There won’t be anything yet, but we might have luck farther on where the trees thin out,” Euan said.

“Some of these trees are hundreds of years old, surely,” she said. “Look at that oak.” It had a huge girth, having split into several sections so it was like three trees growing up together in one.

“It’s still producing little acorns, isn’t it?” Euan said, examining a leafy branch. “I wonder how many new trees it’s parented over the years.”

“Thousands, maybe.” There must be layers and layers of fallen leaves beneath their feet—centuries of oak leaves. “It feels so ancient and mysterious,” she said. “You can imagine Robin Hood and his men making merry here.”

“It is a good feeling here today,” Euan said, “but it can be different. Think of all those fairy tales in which the forest is a dark and threatening labyrinth, where the trees reach out to grab the unsuspecting traveler, where fearsome animals lurk, where little girls and boys become lost forever.”

She shivered. “Like ‘Snow White,’ and ‘Babes in the Wood’ and ‘Hansel and Gretel.’”

Stories she’d read to Summer.

And like the subject of the dream. Running

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