Page 55 of Before You Say Goodbye

“Fuck off,” she replied curtly.

“You’re not, Autumn!”

“I’m not a singer, remember? I am doing the best that I can.”

“No, you aren’t,” he said. “You sang better than that just sitting in the dressing room that night we were all together.”

“The night you signed me up for this without my permission?” she said . Marley sighed.

Petulantly, Autumn plonked herself down on the pine needles on the ground. A deliberate act of defiance. He’d already asked her to stay standing when they’d rehearsed the day before, insisting she needed her full lung capacity to be able to sing properly. Well, Autumn didn’t want to sing. She was on strike. The ground was wet and uncomfortable, but she was too stubborn to let him see her get back up. That would be admitting defeat. Marley watched her for a moment, then leaned against a tree trunk.

“Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone weren’t professional singers when they were cast inLa La Land,” he said. “And they won Oscars.”

“Good for them.” Autumn picked up a stick and snapped it, launching one half of it at the ground. The chickens thought it was something they could eat and ran towards it, pecking at it eagerly and clucking irritably when they realised it wasn’t appetising. “Bowie isn’t going to be able to go to this stupid ball anyway.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s the spirit,” Marley said sarcastically, folding his legs beneath him and joining her on the ground. They sat in silence. The sky was elephant grey and Autumn could hear thunder rumbling away somewhere in the distance and could see heavy rain falling on the horizon. It wouldn’t be long before it reached them.

“Don’t worry, Autumn,” Marley said, defeated. “I can just sing it for him by myself.”

Autumn was wrong-footed. That wasn’t what she wanted. She’d thought it was, but now she felt suddenly sad. Marley was cutting her out of Bowie’s lovely surprise, just like that. It wasn’t fair. She wanted to take it all back. She didn’t know how to tell him what she was feeling without sounding as though she was losing her mind. She’d been a nightmare to live with for three days now. On the morning after they’d all resolved their differences, she’d woken up in a terrible mood and hadn’t been able to shake it off. She’d tried everything to lift her spirits but they were still all over the place. No one was being spared her irritation but, for some reason, her inner monster had settled mainly on taking it all out on Marley. She’d been incredibly rude to him, snapping at him whenever he spoke, ignoring him when he asked her for her help with anything, and sneering when he was talking to the others. She’d been so vicious to him over dinner the evening before, Bowie had torn into her about it when they had gone to bed. She’d promised him she would try her best to stop, but had admitted that, at the moment, for some unknown reason, Marley’s presence alone was enough to piss her off.

Autumn looked up and sighed at the sky above them. She was fizzing with rage. Although she knew, deep down, that Marley was only trying to give her what she wanted, she felt as though he was trying to take her part in Bowie’s surprise away from her. She wondered if she was subconsciously resentful of the night Marley had spent with Bowie, which meant one lessshegot to spend with him. Or perhaps, subconsciously, she was upset with Bowie, but taking it out on his physically fit twin instead.

Whatever it was, she was way too tired to try to figure out what was wrong with her. She lay back and closed her eyes. Marley let her sleep.

When the rain reached them, they got to their feet in moody silence and made their way back to the house.

* * *

“There are only three chickens out there today,” Emma said the following morning. She was clutching a mug of coffee and looking at the coop out of the kitchen window. Autumn, Bowie and Marley joined her. She was right. They were scratching around at the ground in the same way they did every morning, but there were only three of them.

“There were four yesterday,” Marley said. The chickens had followed them obediently home. Autumn remembered because she’d almost fallen over one as they’d clambered over the perimeter fence and into the Whittles’ garden.

“Definitely?” Emma asked Marley cautiously, so as not to alert Bowie to the time they had spent together. He’d been sleeping when they’d left and with Pip when they’d returned. Autumn thought about it. She knew for certain that at least two chickens had followed them home, but she couldn’t be sure there had been four. They’d run almost the entire way back. She’d headed straight for the house, Marley had followed her to the porch, realised he needed to lock up the chicken coop, then run back out into the rain to do it. She’d presumed he’d checked all chickens were present, but she could tell from the worried expression on his face he hadn’t. Marley eyed his mother.

“Yes, I’m pretty sure there were four.”

“Oh God, what if Miranda’s been out all night?” Emma said, putting down her coffee cup and picking up her scarf, her brow lined with worry. Autumn winced. Emma had rescued the chickens and was so incredibly fond of them. The storm had rumbled overhead for hours in the night and the rain hadn’t eased. If the chicken was lost, it was likely that she’d gotten into some sort of trouble. Marley handed his mother’s coffeecup back to her, unwinding the scarf from around her neck and wrapping it around his own.

“I’ll go, Mum,” he said lovingly.

“Are you sure, baby?” she asked. Marley nodded. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed the tip of his nose.

“I’ll come too,” Autumn said, feeling guilty. If Miranda had got lost, it was their fault.

“No, don’t worry,” Marley said, pulling on his duffle coat. “This is all my fault. I locked up the coop, I should have checked. And there’s no point in us both getting wet.”

“I don’t mind.” Autumn took a yellow raincoat down from the peg. “We can cover more ground between us. Can I wear this, please?”

“Of course,” Emma replied.

“Be careful,” Bowie called as they left.

The rain was still practically apocalyptic. They hesitated on the porch, hoping Miranda might appear. She didn’t. They eyed one another apprehensively, heading for the coop. It was warm, but the morning was dark. Raindrops pelted the ground, bouncing several inches up into the air before they settled into puddles that were flooding the garden. Thick, black clouds swirled threateningly above their heads. If the chicken was alive, she must be hiding somewhere. Autumn prayed the whole way that they would find Miranda, but the coop was empty. They’d have to look further afield.

“Ready?” Marley asked her. She nodded through her discomfort. The rain pounded against her head so hard it took her breath away. Marley headed straight towards where they’d been rehearsing. It suddenly seemed a long way away. Autumn wanted to go back inside, but couldn’t bear to leave Emma’s precious hen to fend for herself, so she followed Marley, pushing the tall, wet grass aside with her hands as they walked, wishing she was wearing something on her feet other than pumps. Theychecked everywhere they thought a chicken might hide as they went, but she was nowhere to be found.

“Maybe she’s at the back of the garden,” Marley shouted. Autumn could barely hear him. In the ten minutes or so they’d been searching, the rain had grown even heavier. It was belting down through the leaves of the trees and smashing against the muddy ground.

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