500 Miles from You (Scottish Bookshop #3)(51)
Lissa couldn’t deny being pleased but was also annoyed that a) she was still up, and b) she’d been waiting to hear from him while pretending she wasn’t.
Can I help you? she typed rather stiffly.
Can you hear anything in the garden?
What? Why, what is it? Is someone out there??
No. Yes. No.
Slightly fearful, Lissa jumped up. Was it the Blaine family? Were they going to come around, torch the place or something? She stared out into the garden. She couldn’t see anything, but she could hear a rustle. A definite rustle. Her heart started pumping at a gallop.
Do I need to call 999?
Cormac stared at the computer in disbelief, starting to laugh.
God no. DON’T!!! It’s Neddie. I forgot he comes about this time and I meant to tell you and if you don’t feed him he might leave.
?????
In the spring. When he wakes up.
????
He’s a hedgehog.
A HEDGEHOG??????
Yes.
YOU GAVE ME A HEART ATTACK FOR A FRICKING HEDGEHOG??!!!!!
He’s a very nice hedgehog.
I DON’T WANT A FRICKING HEDGEHOG!!!!!!
I’m not asking you to adopt him. Could you leave a saucer out for him? Water and honey. Not milk, that’s a myth.
You want me to get up right now, go out in the pitch dark and freezing cold, and leave honey for a hedgehog.
Is that okay? Only if he doesn’t find it, he’ll go elsewhere and he’ll get killed on the road or something.
Lissa looked outside again but couldn’t see a thing. There was some rustling. Oh crap, she was going to have to go outside, otherwise she’d be a hedgehog murderer as well as a “bad nurse.” She rolled her eyes and went downstairs, squeezed some Huckle honey and water into a little saucer.
THE WORLD OUTSIDE was extraordinary. No cars passed at this time on the little road; there was no light to be seen anywhere except the dim kitchen lamp in the cottage. A bright, almost full moon shone overhead, making everything bright and clear; the stream rippled, full of gold and silver, and the heavy scent of the bluebells settled over everything. The grass was wet and cold beneath her feet; it needed cutting, but she didn’t mind. She stepped forward carefully into the enchanted midnight garden, not a soul in sight, waited for her eyes to adjust, then knelt down.
She padded as quietly as she could over to the rustling bush, then took out her phone and turned on the flashlight. And there it was! A tiny flash of two bright eyes, then in a blink the little creature was in a fierce ball.
“It’s all right,” she crooned. “It’s okay.”
She turned the flashlight off immediately; she didn’t want to scare it.
“Here.”
She put the saucer down, the moon reflecting straight into the clear ice-cool water, then retreated quietly and knelt down by the back door, absolutely freezing, to watch.
After what felt like a long time, when she could see perfectly well all the outlines of the bushes and the trees, the rustling started up again, and she saw the little shape scamper on tiny feet over to the bowl. It was so cute she nearly exclaimed, wanted desperately to take a photo but knew she couldn’t.
Instead she simply sat and watched, feeling incredibly privileged as the tiny thing lapped at the saucer happily; she felt as if royalty had come to tea, as if the universe had bestowed upon her a great secret gift.
EUPHORICALLY, SHE STAYED still until he had had his fill, refilled the saucer, then headed back up to bed, chilled but triumphant.
He’s here!!!
Great!!!!
Why is he called Ned?
All hedgehogs are called Ned! Neddie Needles!
His full name is Neddie Needles???
That’s what’s on his birth certificate.
I’ve seen worse.
So have I.
How do you know it’s the same hedgehog?
I put a splodge of paint on his bristles, did you see it?
Isn’t that cruel?
It’s a very tiny splodge. Right, I’m going to bed, you can report me to the Royal Society for the Prevention of Paint-Based Hedgehog Cruelty.
There was a pause.
Sorry for being hard on you about Cameron. I’d had a tough day, Cormac typed eventually.
No, you were right. I just wasn’t expecting it. I bought him a book!
Have you been hanging out with Nina Lennox?
Might have.
She thinks that’s the answer to everything.
Maybe it is.
If he can read.
I’ll pop back in.
Cheers.
Well, good night.
Good night.
And then a short time later:
Part III
Chapter 40
Neddie was gone the next day, but Lissa refilled his saucer anyway. She’d have liked to have taken a picture. On the other hand, she had a drawing. She pushed on through the garden and out into the field behind the house.
Lissa found herself wandering through the waist-high meadowsweet grass, breathing it in. When it wasn’t absolutely hosing, there was no doubt the landscape was completely ridiculous. She supposed the rain was what made the green so vivid as to be luminous and the clumps of wildflowers—and nettles, as she discovered when wandering off trail and being glad she hadn’t gone the whole hog and opted for shorts—so vibrant and full, the bees dancing among the tall purple flowers.