Friday. In the car, driving through the bottom of the village I pass a man crouched down by the front of a house. He’s squatting by the low wall at a garden, staring into the road, and a woman is standing by the gate, on the path, talking to him. She is keeping her distance and he won’t look at her. He puts his head in his hands for a moment, slightly bald, white polo shirt on. She is still standing, imploring him, I think…

Monday. I’m listening to Strike The Colours. This is how the fox lies by the road… and it reminds me of driving in Derbyshire. Roadkill. A rabbit. A badger. Who knows what else. I’m in the passenger seat and we are going slow. There’s a peacock at the side of the road, dipping its head as we crawl by. A minute later we are talking and then… there’s another one! Green and blue and night black bobbing against the dry field as it curls its body away from the car. No panic in its wings. Just a tolerance of traffic and people. A low stone wall curves to the left and the shallow humps of hills meet the sky in front of us… It’s just a feeling, the words being sung in my kitchen by Jenny Reeve and the slice of a memory being pulled forward in my brain from a couple of weeks ago. It’s just a feeling so far, but it sticks with me…

Thursday. I’m walking back from the shop and I see the daughter of someone I barely know, and I remember a secret the woman told me one day as we walked along the street together. It was an intimate piece of her near history, something which caused her a splinter of pain still when she talked about it. I remember the blush on her face while she confessed to me this thing that had ripped to the centre of her family and made her own sister hate her for a while. I look at the daughter now, eleven years old, and I can almost feel the coil of discomfort and confusion which is imbedded inside her. The hopelessness of the woman. The impossibility of the situation. The anger of her husband…

I am making a story. I am waiting for more pieces to come to me. I am slotting them together in my head until they all fit.

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