The comments about her personal appearance hurt a bit, more than they should have. But name-calling stings no more than nettles these days, and the initial irritation soon fades to nothing. Besides, being dismissed as an elderly woman amuses her in some ways. Just because her hair has turned grey, it doesn’t mean that Robin is old. She tells herself that he doesn’t know what he’s talking about – the man can’t even recognise his own reflection. But although vanity has never been one of her qualities, it doesn’t mean she is immune to insults.
She tidies herself and the place up a little – because she wants to, not because of what he said – then carefully pulls back the corner of one bedsheet curtain, to check that the visitors aren’t still lurking outside. She is pleased to see that they are halfway up the hill already. Out of the way and earshot.
Now that she is sure they cannot see or hear anything else that they shouldn’t, Robin sits down in the old leather chair and lights her pipe. She just needs a little something to steady herself and her nerves, and this is the last chance she’ll get to smoke it. The only visitors she is used to these days are Patrick the postman – who knows better than to knock or say hello – and Ewan, the local farmer who grazes his sheep on the land around Blackwater Loch. He sometimes drops by with milk or eggs to say thank you – she lets the animals feed for free, and understands that farming has become a tough business. He also tells her snippets of gossip about various characters in town – not that Robin wants to know – but most people stay away.
Because all the locals know the stories about Blackwater Chapel.
Robin looks out of the window to check on the visitors one last time. They’re near the top of the hill now, so it’s safe to go out. She puts on her coat and Oscar stares up at her. A few years ago, Robin would have thought that a house rabbit was a ridiculous idea, but as it turns out, they make surprisingly good companions. Robin slips a red leather collar inside her pocket, then heads off towards the chapel alone. She knows what happened to the visitors’ dog because she took him. But Robin doesn’t feel guilty about that at all, even though she used to own a dog herself, and knows how upset they must be.
Bad people deserve the bad things that happen to them.
Iron
Word of the year:
chuffed adjective feeling happy or very pleased.
28th February 2014 – our sixth anniversary
Dear Adam,
This has been a good year for us both, hasn’t it? You were happy, which made me happy, as though it were contagious. Henry Winter asked you to adapt another of his novels for film – a murder mystery with a hint of horror this time, called The Black House – and things seem to be moving in the right direction with your own screenplays too, with Rock Paper Scissors now in pre-production!
We have October O’Brien to thank for that. Having an A-list actress on board didn’t just help open doors for your own projects in Hollywood, it attracted the attention of a great producer, someone you trust. The three of you have spent an insane amount lots of time together this year, with you disappearing to LA with them more than once, not that I mind. Besides, thanks to October, we’ve just had one of our best anniversaries ever.
I told her that we’ve never been away for our anniversary because you’re always too busy working – it’s true – and that’s when she suggested we celebrate our sixth in style at her French villa. It was very kind, especially when she’s had such a horrible time lately. The press found out about a speeding ticket, one of many as it turns out. October’s pretty face – and very expensive car – was in the newspapers for all the wrong reasons. October loves driving fast cars, but now she has to go to court and because of all the previous offences, it sounds like she might lose her licence.
The Eurotunnel crossing was much faster than I imagined it would be. We parked on the train, and just over thirty minutes later we were in Calais, as if by magic. Bob used his pet passport for the first time, and it was so easy to travel with a dog. I saw one woman crossing the channel with a rabbit in the passenger seat of her car. It wore a tiny red harness and walked on a lead, I’d never seen anything like it!
We drove through Paris – I wanted to see Notre-Dame – and after lunch in a little café on the bank of the River Seine, we strolled through the ‘Bouquinistes of Paris’， and the booksellers of Paris did not disappoint. Each had their own display of second-hand books – hundreds of them – beneath a sea of green-roofed huts lining the path along the river. Just as their predecessors had been doing for hundreds of years.