Page 16

“Tea?”

the man asked, heading towards a kitchen area at the side of the cabin.

“Please,”

replied Davey, sitting down and ushering Steph to do the same.

Steph sat down but continued to scan her surroundings. The inside of the cabin was larger than she expected. Although what she had expected, she couldn’t really say. She’d had no time to anticipate entering the cabin. The furnishings had Kelvin Handle written all over them – it was clearly in keeping with his own design themes.

The place was all open plan except for two doors at the back of the cabin. Steph assumed one led to a bedroom whereas the other must have been the bathroom. There was a large flatscreen television on the wall which cut through the rustic feel of the wood. Presently it was turned off.

The man returned with three teas on a tray and a plate of biscuits. Davey introduced the man as Roger. Steph assumed it must be the same one he had mentioned earlier.

He was an older gentleman, old enough for his hair to have gone grey. Steph noticed a bookshelf in one corner that was almost overflowing. There seemed to be no one genre to the books that denoted a particular direction of interest. It was simply everything.

Outside there were still howls and movement.

“I suspect you’ll be here for the night,”

Roger said after dipping a biscuit into a half-empty mug.

“They’ll go,”

Davey said, waving a dismissive hand.

“No doubt,”

Roger said.

“It is just a case of when and whether you can be bothered staying up to wait for it.”

“What do you mean?”

Steph asked.

Roger turned to face her.

“Well, these canines are rather determined, not easily put off – even, at times, by walls.”

“So they would stay here all night? That doesn’t seem normal.”

“Is any of this normal?”

Steph conceded the point. Even so, it worried her. The balance of the place was completely off. Had it always been this way? Was the behaviour of the animals developing slowly into this unstable equilibrium or had it rapidly set into its current pattern as soon as they were put together? It was all rather fascinating. Too fascinating. There was something dangerous about its appeal. Steph could lose herself, indulging in her scientific interests and missing the bigger picture building around her. She could feel it. Allowing herself to get sucked in without stepping back could be a catastrophic mistake.

“What do you mean when you say ‘even by walls’?”

she asked suddenly.

“Nothing much,”

Roger replied, sipping his tea.

“Only they will sometimes scratch at the walls and doors. They can’t get in, so it doesn’t really matter. Even so, the noise when everything else is so quiet, well, it can get the heart going a bit.”

Steph nodded, sipping her tea. She had to admit to herself that constantly living with things around you that would happily eat you might eventually fray the nerves.

“Have you heard from Fergus recently?”

Roger asked, turning to face Davey.

“I’m meant to check on him tomorrow,”

Davey replied.

“Has been a bit low-key recently. To be honest, I think he’s struggling.”

Roger nodded and pulled a knowing face.

“Who’s Fergus?”

Steph asked.

“Another individual like me who is making the most of a lucrative stay in a holiday cottage,”

Roger said.

Davey rolled his eyes.

“You knew what you were getting into when you agreed to it all,”

Davey said.

“I never said I didn’t,”

shrugged Roger.

“Although, I would not say I completely understood what I was getting into seeing as neither did any of your lot!”

“My lot?”

“Yes, your lot! You had no idea how the animals would behave; the lady in the white coat said as much when I started.”

“Martina?”

“Something like that.”

It was Davey’s turn to shrug.

“I suppose that’s fair,”

he said.

“Not that I agree with any of it really anyway…”

“You go along with it for the wage!”

Roger said, pointing a finger.

“So do you!”

retorted Davey.

“So you can put that finger away. Anyway, that’s sort of why this one is here.”

“This lovely lady?”

Steph almost choked on her tea. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had called her lovely. She was not sure whether to take it as an insult or a compliment. She settled on ignoring it.

“That’s right,”

she said.

“I’ve been employed to assess the relationship between the animals in the ecosystem as well as their behaviour in general.”

Roger looked mildly impressed.

“She usually writes about bigfoot,”

Davey said, resting a lazy foot over his knee.

Steph could feel herself going red.

“I am a trained field biologist!”

she snapped.

“And now you have a real job in a fake world rather than a fake job in the real world,”

Davey continued, smiling behind his tea.

“Oh, leave the girl alone!”

Roger said, hitting Davey on the shoulder with his book.

“Someone has to write about a sasquatch and make some money from it. If she doesn’t, someone else will because there’s a market for it! I was on holiday in Canada once and the resort did actual bigfoot walks. They were always fully booked is all I can say.”

Hearing words she had used herself come from the mouth of another trying to defend her felt horrible. It was hard to ignore the taste of something when you were eating it yourself and not force-feeding it to others. She decided to change the subject. Ignorance was bliss. Better that than face herself in the mirror as her parents often suggested she do.

“Do you meet up with the others in the cabins?”

Steph asked.

“Only I can imagine it is quite a lonely existence for someone here.”

“Not frequently, but we do from time to time,”

Roger replied.

“We have a poker night once a month to look forward to and of course, we are allowed off-site. We aren’t prisoners. We just have to be discreet with information.”

“Poker nights?”

Davey said with a raised eyebrow.

“You needn’t worry!”

Roger sighed.

“We don’t go walking off in the dark. We are usually far too deep into a bottle of scotch for night walking. Turns into a bit of a sleepover.”

“Don’t – and please forgive me if I am being too bold with this question – don’t you have family members that worry about you?”

Steph asked.

“Wives or children or…”

“I don’t have a wife anymore,”

Roger sniffed.

Steph shut her eyes. Careless. Then she heard a chuckle.

“Oh, she’s not dead!”

Roger chuckled.

“More is the pity. No, she decided to sleep with one of her students in her classical literature classes. He must have had a thing for older women. I don’t know. Whatever the case, we are divorced. Probably for the best seeing as I am currently in the most lucrative employment I have ever been in my life. She might have taken half! Would have been unfair seeing as it’s not her who risks being mauled by bears and extinct lions when she fancies a relaxed Sunday stroll.”

They continued to talk into the evening. The wolves eventually quietened down but there was enough snuffling outside for Davey to suggest caution. Roger seemed all too pleased to have the stay of his company extended and set about making up a couple of camp beds. Steph noted him hurriedly binning a glass bottle from one of the sleeping bags he unwrapped, as well as pocketing some scraps of note paper that lay by the radio in the corner of the cabin.