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Contents ( 34)
  1. THE SUNDAY POST MAGAZINE JULY 15, 2018
  2. CATRIONA ROBINSON’S SWAN SONG
  3. Interview by Suzie Johnstone
  4. COCKATOO
  5. ROBIN
  6. MAGPIE
  7. PEACOCK
  8. PELICAN
  9. SPARROW
  10. PIGEON
  11. CANARY
  12. SEAGULL
  13. PARAKEET
  14. LITTLE OWL
  15. BLUEBIRD
  16. COCKEREL
  17. FLAMINGO
  18. GOOSE
  19. STARLING
  20. HUMMINGBIRD
  21. RAVEN
  22. ROBIN
  23. HERON
  24. NIGHTINGALE
  25. PHOENIX
  26. MAGPIE
  27. DUCK
  28. Acknowledgments
  29. About the Author
  30. Reading Group Guide
  31. The Book of Second Chances
  32. Birds and Their Meanings
  33. Reader Discussion Questions
  34. Author Questions

She had done it for her, for Emily, thinking she was better off, staying in Norfolk.

Emily brushed sand from her feet as she stepped back onto the quay, then looked to the rows of silent boats moored in the harbor, heard the quiet ting of a dozen bells as their hulls were rocked by the approaching tide.

It was so easy for something to become a habit, if you didn’t question your life or surroundings. How simple it could be to wake up one day and realize you’d been existing in a halted state, that you allowed it to happen by hiding from the change which allowed experience, to actually live.

“That was my favorite day. The best day from all the summers put together.” Tyler was next to her now; she could feel the heat from his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt and she turned to look at him, saw his attention caught by someone farther along the quayside, waving in their direction. “Emily, I…” He began to speak, took a step away, ran one hand through hair speckled with salt. “I meant to tell you about her.”

Emily watched a young woman approach. She was wearing a lilac cotton dress that showed off long, tanned limbs, with blond hair that seemed to shimmer in the evening light. Her eyes were blue, her teeth were white. She was perfect, and she was wrapping herself around Tyler, kissing him long and slow.

14

FLAMINGO

Phoenicopterus

Emily stood, staring up at a set of iron gates, beyond which she could just about see the roof of a vast mansion. A house which the gallery manageress had informed her belonged to Antoine Marchand and that he would be at home and was expecting her. Emily had declined her offer of a lift, nor did she want her to ring ahead, to let Monsieur know she was on her way.

Instead, Emily had decided to walk, out from the center of the town, along the edge of the park, with trees on one side, houses hidden by high walls on the other. It gave her time to think about what best to do next. It gave her time to realize, to accept, that Tyler wasn’t here for her after all.

It turned out his girlfriend worked in Cannes, in the bar of some fancy-pants hotel. She had simply hopped in a taxi after her shift to come and meet them. Emily wished it wasn’t the same one her grandmother had worked in, didn’t want there to be a connection between her and Tyler’s girlfriend.

All the excitement she had felt about being here, with him, had fizzled away as she lay on another unfamiliar bed, listening to the sound of the sea and trying not to cry as she thought about how far away from home she was, from everything she had ever known.

The sight of him with someone else was enough to make Emily’s stomach turn. The soft hand that reached out to say hello, to introduce herself as Phoebe and she was ever so pleased to meet her, Tyler had told her so much about how they used to be friends, had practically grown up together.