The Hunger Trace by Edward Hogan Read Free Book Online

you,’ he said to her. ‘Imagine that.’
    ‘I’d rather not,’ said Maggie.
    ‘You’d be flattened,’ said Christopher, clapping his hands together.
    Louisa hooded Diamond, placed him back on his perch, and moved on to the Harris hawks. Fred was slightly larger, but they were both nearly chicken-sized, with big necks and chocolate feathers broken by rusty tones. Their feet and beaks were a strong yellow from the egg yolk she fed them. ‘We’re not going to fly Diamond today,’ she said, ‘We’ll fly these two. Harris hawks don’t mind people so much. You can bring them into your house, introduce them to the kids, sit them down at the dinner table, watch TV with them, or whatever it is you do of an evening . . .’ Louisa said, struggling a little for ideas.
    ‘I like family values,’ said Christopher.
    ‘Diamond would go crazy if I tried that shit with him,’ Louisa said. Maggie laughed again.
    Louisa took Fred from the bow perch onto her glove, and then cast him into the trees surrounding the garden. He watched everything: the movement of Maggie’s hand as she scratched her neck, the stone that Louisa kicked, the leaves. Louisa took out the rabbit lure – a strip of raw beef tied to a toy bunny, fixed to a length of string. She buried the lure in the undergrowth, and then whipped it out and ran with it. Fred descended from a nearby tree, gave a short chase, and crushed the toy. Maggie applauded, while Christopher tilted his head uneasily to watch Fred feed.
    ‘Anybody fancy a go?’ Louisa asked.
    Christopher remained silent, and eventually Maggie stepped up. Fred flew to the high branches of a beech, and Louisa took off her glove, which steamed a little. She passed it over Maggie’s long fingers and pulled it down. ‘Almost fits,’ Maggie said, squeezing a fist.
    ‘It’ll do,’ Louisa said.
    Louisa arranged Maggie’s body so that the younger woman stood side-on to the bird, her head turned and her left arm extended. Louisa took a day-old chick from the bag and popped the yolk sac, placed it in Maggie’s gloved hand, the blood and yolk darkening the worn leather. ‘Call him,’ Louisa said.
    ‘Fred. Come on, sweetie,’ Maggie said.
    The bird leaned forward, stopped, and came. The silence was heavy as the wings beat and then held, the bird coming lower, inches from the ground before rising to the glove. Louisa looked at Maggie, because it was her first time. Maggie stayed still and kept her eyes on the hawk. She did not flinch. Louisa felt a slight disappointment, although she could not have articulated the source.
    ‘Good boy,’ whispered Maggie. Louisa could see the shock of it in her, a woman who worked with animals but was nevertheless excited by the level of control, and the simultaneous lack of it. Fred picked at the flesh, and Maggie released a little more of the chick’s body.
    ‘Okay, let him go,’ Louisa said. Maggie cast Fred back into the air. He flew to the nearest tree and licked his feet.
    ‘Will you give it a try, Christopher?’ asked Maggie.
    ‘No,’ said Christopher. ‘There’s no point, now you’ve done it.’
    ‘Come on,’ Maggie said. ‘It’s another string to your bow.’
    Christopher considered the phrase carefully. It was one of his favourites. ‘Erm. Okay,’ he said. ‘One go.’
    Louisa set him up. She had not been so close to the boy for some time. She found the blue lenses strange, but more troubling was his silhouette, dark against the dropping light behind him. It was almost the same as David’s, the paunch already thick, the legs strong, the shoulders sloping down. He was a little older than David had been when he and Louisa had gone hunting together that day.
    Louisa placed another chick on the glove. ‘Gross,’ said Christopher. He bobbed the dead head against his fist. ‘Call him in,’ said Louisa.
    ‘You do it,’ said Christopher. Louisa tapped Christopher’s glove and called out for Fred, who had the taste and required no second