The Magic Cottage Read Free

eventually become good for me. She had values and motives that I admired and loved her for, and I’m not too proud to say that I felt a need to acquire some of those ideals for myself. I’d had too many good times and not enough right times. She made right times.
    The turn I was keeping an eye out for soon materialized and the agent had been correct – it was easy to miss. I slowed the car, almost coming to a stop to take the sharp corner. Our Volkswagen Passat used up most of the road as it gathered speed, and we were still in a wooded area, trees brimming the lane right up to the edge. The roadway dipped and curved too, and Midge loved every yard we covered, her eyes alight, while I concentrated on taking the bends, occasionally stealing glances at her happy face.
    ‘Shouldn’t we have reached the cottage by now?’ I was beginning to wonder if I hadn’t taken the wrong turn.
    Midge consulted the sketched map. ‘Shouldn’t be far—’
    I’d slammed on the brakes, an arm automatically stretching across Midge’s chest to hold her back even though she was belted in. She rocked with the car and turned to me in surprise.
    ‘Will you look at the nerve of that guy.’ I indicated the road ahead with a nod.
    The squirrel was sitting upright slap-bang in the middle of the road, nibbling an acorn or something between its paws, pale tan-to-white tail fluffed up behind. The little devil didn’t appear to be oblivious of us – it kept darting its tufty head in our direction – but we didn’t seem to bother it any.
    ‘Oh, Mike, he’s gorgeous!’ Midge was leaning forward as far as her seat belt would allow, her nose only inches away from the windscreen. ‘He’s a red. I heard they were coming back to this part of the country. Oh, he’s lovely!’
    ‘Sure, but he’s – it’s – taking up the road.’ I was about to thump the horn, but Midge must have read my mind.
    ‘Let him stay there for a moment,’ she urged, ‘he’ll move on soon enough.’
    I sighed, although I quite enjoyed the sight of the furry little brute munching its lunch.
    Midge clicked free of her seat belt and peered out of the side window, smiling all the while. That was just too much for our friend: he dropped the acorn and scampered off.
    I couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Terrific. It didn’t turn a hair at this great, noisy, metal monster, but your grinning face sent it into shock.’
    Then I had to eat my words. The squirrel streaked back, retrieved its lunch, looked our way for a second, and hopped up to the Passat on Midge’s side.
    ‘Hello,’ Midge said nicely.
    I couldn’t see, but it might have smiled back. I leaned over and just caught sight of the stirring of undergrowth as the squirrel departed once more. I expected Midge to give me one of her smug smirks, but there was only immense and innocent pleasure on her happy face. I pecked her cheek, amused, and shifted the automatic gear-stick into D. ‘Onwards,’ I said.
    Midge settled back and scanned our surroundings as we sped by.
    We soon came clear of the trees, rough grass verges on either side of the lane opening up into stretches of heavy green bracken and yellow gorse, pushing back the thick woodland as if to say enough is enough. The sun was high now, at its zenith, and the sky around it was bleached a pale blue. We’d chosen a perfect day for a trip into the country and my enthusiasm was picking up once more, despite the disappointment of Cantrip itself.
    Midge clutched at my arm. ‘I think I see it,’ she said with restrained excitement.
    I squinted but didn’t catch anything.
    ‘It’s gone,’ said Midge. ‘I thought I saw a splash of white ahead, but now the trees are in the way.’
    The car was rounding a long sweeping bend and the woodland was coming back at the road with a vengeance. In places, leafy low-hanging branches brushed against the windows.
    ‘This forest could do with a trim,’ I grumbled and then we saw the cottage, set back from the road, a low,