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Her mouth drops open in horror. ‘What, they’re shooting actual live birds?’
‘Yup. The birds are bred specially and released in the summer months. They then live in the woods until the season begins. On a shooting day, the guns are stationed in a field and a team of beaters walks through the woods making noise and banging on trees, to drive the birds towards the guns.’
‘Butwhy?’
‘It’s a sport, and pretty lucrative for the landowners. Each gun will pay hundreds of pounds per day to shoot.’
‘It sounds vile.’
‘Yeah, well. This particular weekend is being run by my ex-husband, James, and he specifically asked for me. That’s why Annabel wanted to talk to me in private, to see how I felt about it.’
‘Are you going to do it?’
‘I don’t know. I need to think. I don’t want to have anything to do with him, but Annabel wants me to do it, and that makes things tricky.’
‘Sooner you than me,’ she laughs.
* * *
I’m still preoccupied with it when I meet up with Elliott after work. After our first impromptu dinner together, we sort of fell into a habit of meeting up once or twice a week after work before getting the train home. Sometimes we just meet for a drink, but more often than not we end up getting something to eat as well. To begin with, it was more of a kind of divorcees support group thing, where we’d take it in turns to talk about how awful our ex-spouses were, but it’s grown into a genuine friendship, and recently we’ve challenged each other to sign up to a dating app. He’s already in the pub when I arrive, and a glass of wine is waiting for me on the table.
‘Give me the statistics,’ I say, after I’ve swallowed my first generous mouthful. This is our standard greeting at the moment. We each have to tell the other how many matches we’ve had, and then analyse them.
‘Three since last time,’ he replies. ‘A woman who completely adores cats but is allergic to them, an older woman who sounds like some sort of sexual predator, and a Hungarian who doesn’t speak much English. You?’
‘Five. Two sent me dick pics as soon as we were matched, so they’re obviously out. One is a guy in his fifties called Leonard, and there was also a sort of fitness fanatic who messaged me wanting to meet for a workout in the gym followed by another in the bedroom. Yuck.’
‘That still leaves one,’ Elliott remarks.
I’m not sure what to say about the final one as, technically, there was nothing wrong with him. The reality is that I’m not really interested in meeting anyone; I’m only doing this to try to get Elliott out there.
‘Yeah, he was just your typical no-hoper. Nothing happening there. I do have something else I’d like your opinion on, though.’
‘Go on.’
I proceed to tell him all about our new client and the shooting weekend. He listens intently, which I’ve learned is one of his most endearing features. When he’s listening, I sometimes think a bomb could go off and he wouldn’t blink, because he’s so focused on what I’m saying. His blue eyes lock on to mine, which I used to find a bit disconcerting, but I’m used to it now. When I’ve finished, he sits back, but doesn’t say anything.
‘Well?’ I prompt him.
‘It’s a tricky one, isn’t it? I can see why you’re in knots about it. I guess that there isn’t anyone else in your office with your level of experience in these things?’
‘Well, I’m not exactly experienced, but I know what a shooting weekend is supposed to look like. I’m not sure any of the others do, and he specifically asked for me. What do you think that’s about?’
‘If we were being generous,’ he replies, ‘we’d see it purely as recognition of your particular skillset.’
‘That doesn’t work, though, because I’m sure there are agencies on his doorstep who do this kind of thing all the time. Why ring up a London agency, and ask specifically for his ex-wife?’
‘I did say “if we were being generous”,’ he smiles. ‘But, if it’s any help, I agree with you. Something about this is fishy as hell. Any idea what you’re going to do?’
‘Not yet. I don’t want to let Annabel down, but I get the feeling that this is a trap of some sort and I really don’t want to fall into it.’
‘Do you have to do it on your own? Can’t you take someone else with you, as protection?’
I ponder his question. He might be on to something with that.
‘You, my friend, are an absolute genius,’ I tell him.
* * *
