Page 20 of Wild About You

She smiled and nodded, then carried on talking. I made my way out past more curious faces and emerged from the door of the hall, facing onto the main street of the village, the hills beyond. I’d hoped for a glimpse of the Stonemore hills, but of course it was a dark winter evening, so I only caught the faintest outline of them. Still, the air was cold and clear and it was good to be on my own.

I’d taken a few shuddering breaths when I became aware of two figures crossing the road and coming towards me.

No.

Please, no.

Callum and Jamie.

‘What are you two troublemakers doing here?’ I said, as cheerfully as I could, hearing the slight note of hysteria in my voice.

‘I heard there’s a presentation on wildflowers here tonight,’ said Jamie. Was that a very slight flicker of a smile on his face? Then I realised it was the poor light and I was imagining it.

Callum was standing, looking diffident, a faint, shy smile on his face. ‘We’re just moral support,’ he said.

‘We’ll try and stay awake,’ said Jamie, sweeping past.

‘Er, thanks,’ I said.

After they’d gone in, I took a few more deep breaths and gave myself a silent pep talk:You’ve got this. No problem. Perspective: in 100 years we’ll all be dead. When I walked back inside, smile pinned to my face, it felt as though everyone could see my nerves, and yet I also felt a spark of defiance, a distincttake your best shotfeeling towards anyone who was looking down their nose at me.

I allowed the smile to drop. I’d read once if you looked really miserable at the beginning of a presentation, then smiled five minutes in, you’d have an audience eating out the palm of your hand.

Kate stood up and gave a short introduction whilst I stood behind her, gimlet-eyed. I looked at my hands: my short nails, scrubbed free from dirt after an afternoon of weeding, painted with a bright orange varnish that I’d dug out fromthe bottom of my make-up bag. Battle paint. Then Kate turned the lights out and my first slide sprang into view. My mouth felt like sandpaper. I took a swig of water. As I opened my mouth to speak, for a moment this all felt impossible: the last year, every loss and failure that had brought me here, waiting to leap out of the corners of the room.

‘Good evening everyone, my name is Anna Whitlock and I am the rewilding manager for Stonemore Estate. This evening I’m going to be talking to you about wildflower meadows, both as aesthetically beautiful sites in the landscape, but also as diverse habitats, capable of enriching and assisting conservation areas in a variety of ways. Particularly important since the UK has lost 97 per cent of its wildflower meadows since the Second World War.’

My voice echoed out into the darkness: strong, confident, no hint of hesitation. Somehow I’d clicked into the part of my brain that could perform.

All of my preparation paid off. I paced myself, moving smoothly through the slides. Once or twice I dried up, but my experience told me to carry on boldly and I did. Occasionally I allowed myself a glance at the audience – a risky strategy – but I saw enough to show me that most of them were interested and concentrating, the bright colours of my slides lighting up their attentive faces. Just once I caught lady-with-pearls rolling her eyes, but I filed that and carried on. And mercifully, I couldn’t see Jamie or Callum – they were sitting in the back row, and once the lights went out they were lost in the darkness.

‘Thank you.’ I concluded my talk and was gratified to hear a healthy round of applause as the lights came back on. Kate rushed up, her face wreathed in smiles, and gave a brief thank you speech before opening the floor for questions. Hands shot up. Possibly the most enthusiastic audience I’d ever had – who knew? Perhaps I should have run away from London earlier.

‘Could you talk a little more about the red deadnettle?’ asked one nervous, sweet voice. ‘And show the picture again? I think I’ve got it in my garden.’

Most of the questions were like this: well intentioned, kindly meant, easily answered. I noticed that lady-with-pearls was putting her hand up again and again, but not being chosen by Kate. Eventually she was the last woman standing and cleared her throat loudly.

I heard Kate give a tiny sigh. ‘Clarissa,’ she said.

‘Thank you, Katherine.’ The woman’s accent was as cut-glass as I remembered, and she rose to her feet in a stately fashion. ‘An interesting presentation, Ms Whitlock. But I have no idea what relevance it has to the Stonemore Estate, which already has vast tracts of wild land.’

The audience turned their eyes upon me. I smiled. ‘An excellent question.’ I ignored the fact she hadn’t asked a question. ‘But perhaps the land you see as wild, isn’t quite as wild as you think. There is, certainly, a small amount of ancient woodland on the estate. That needs careful management to ensure that it survives and flourishes. But let me be clear: I am not advocating stripping away what we currentlyhave, and aggressive replanting. What we are aiming for is a careful process of gently managed natural regeneration. And the development of a richer ecosystem which will benefit the whole estate. Furthermore—’

‘Yes, yes, yes.’ The woman flapped her hands and gave a laugh. ‘I heard you were some kind of environmental person. It all sounds like the emperor’s new clothes a little though, my dear, doesn’t it?’

I persevered. ‘Not at all. It’s a critical time for the healthy future of the estate—’

‘Yes, yes, yes…’ This seemed to be her standard response to me. ‘We must let the gentlemen have their fads, dear, mustn’t we? And if we profit from it, that doesn’t hurt either.’ She gave me a sly smile, as though we secretly understood each other.

I converted my expression from one of friendly openness to stony puzzlement. Not a stretch, I can tell you. ‘I’m sorry,’ I managed in a frostily polite tone. ‘I have no idea what you mean.’

‘Our earl,’ said Clarissa slowly, as if I was stupid. A small ripple moved through the room, as the half of the audience which knew Jamie was there attempted to communicate with the less aware half. Which obviously included Clarissa.

Unfortunately for her, she seemed to take the ripple as agreement rather than warning, and built up some momentum.

‘You’re a very pretty manifestation of his latest fad,’ she said, her eyes glowing with malicious merriment. ‘But I canassure you he will be moving on very soon. I have rather more insight into his character than you do, dear.’

‘How interesting, Clarissa.’ Jamie’s voice boomed out suddenly. He got slowly to his feet, and smiled to the audience. Not the sweet smile I’d seen him give Hugo; something rather more steely. ‘I would be fascinated to hear these insights. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind sharing them?’

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