In the Shadow of the Trees by Elenor Gill Read Free Book Online

kick-started me back to life. Last night’s wine bottle was on the table, most of it gone. Wine, fresh air and freedom—a heady concoction. No wonder I had had such strange dreams. My mouth felt like something furry had slept in it. A hot shower would have been wonderful, but it would have to wait until Jack the Ripper wasn’t around.
    The hammering was still going on, so I wandered back out to the deck holding my coffee mug. He’d already fixed wooden struts along one side and was working on the front, from the corner up to the central steps.
    ‘Hey, this is great. I thought a tarpaulin would do but those sheets will let in all the light. A real studio. I need the light to work, you see. I’m a sculptor, you know, I carve things out of wood.’
    ‘Yes, I do know what a sculptor does.’ His voice was soft now, and patient, as if talking down to a precocious child. If I’d had my boots on I would have kicked him on the shins.
    ‘You work for Sullivan, do you? You’re not from round here, though. Is that an Irish accent?’
    He froze. The muscles in his arm and shoulders tensed into iron. I could see the breath rise and fall in his chest. ‘I’m employed to do a job. Perhaps you’d allow me to get on with it?’
    ‘Yeah, right.’ I didn’t know what his problem was but I wasn’t going to hang around to touch any more raw nerves. Especially when he had that hammer in his hand.
    Downing the last of the coffee I collected pastels, drawing pad and various materials, tossing them into a bag along with a bottleof water and some cheese, bread and fruit. A quick search located my boots, one under the bed, the other in the bathroom, and I slipped out of the house. He had his back to me and didn’t notice my leaving, or if he did he chose to ignore it even though Badger abandoned the nail jar and both the dogs came bounding after me. Well, serve him right, the miserable sod, he deserved to be left alone. As I walked off round the lake path the pounding of the hammer grew more distant and my anger eventually melted into the glory of the day.
    The warmth of the morning sun laid its tender hands upon my face. This was what I needed; this was why I had come here. The heavy dew of the night was lifting in billowing clouds of steam, while birds called to each other, eager to pass on the good news of a new day. There were gentle rustlings in the bushes, which caused Badger and Bramble to go crashing off into the undergrowth, only to return a few yards further along the path, empty-handed but still smiling, their tongues flapping like pink dusters.
    I followed the lake track for a way then branched off onto one of the numerous side paths that led upwards through the bush. This was the real forest. Was it ancient? It felt primitive, and yet the vegetation looked fresh and young. Unlike the pine groves, which were awash with indigo shadows, here the light was green and gold and told of open spaces up ahead. Just a few more steps, it said, and there will be a clearing, open to sunlight and azure skies. Only there wasn’t any clearing, just that pale green-gold light to lead the wanderer further astray.
    Here there were giants, the tallest of the trees, their roots stretched up on tiptoe to outreach their brothers in the race to the sky. I craned my neck back to follow the line of the trunks, straight and bare, shooting up to the tallest point where they exploded into masses of foliage. Below the canopy, scrawnyyoungsters strutted in their leafy finery, while the saplings, some barely the height of a man, shivered in awe of their elders. Ferns took up residence in every available space. Their fronds hung in graceful arches, as if forming an awning over pathways. But I think they lied. There were no pathways. It was all a deceit. But I had no fear of getting lost: the lake lay below and all downward routes would lead there. Besides, it all looked so familiar.
    Suddenly I found myself in the shadow of a forest lord, a tree of such