Page 29 of Basket Case

Douglas arrived with her chair before I could object. Gran ordered him to place it beside the whisky table, then looked towards the dark line of trees beyond the village.

“You should take him to the birches.”

Aonghus followed her gaze.

“The old path is still there,” Gran continued. “Although it’s muddier than it used to be. Try not to ruin those trousers. They were your grandfather’s good pair.”

“They don’t fit him.”

“That’s because your grandfather didn’t have thighs like tree trunks.”

I didn’t want my grandmother examining Aonghus’s thighs. She had spent enough years handling him as a basket. He was mine now. Thighs and all.

Gran waved us away. “Go on. I didn’t leave the care home to watch you stand around.”

“Why did you leave the care home?”

She glanced at Aonghus. “I’m nosy.”

At least she admitted it.

We left her beside the bonfire with Moira and Douglas as well as an entire audience of villagers. Gran was well-loved in the community, plus she knew how to tell a good story.

Aonghus kept hold of my hand as we followed the path behind the village hall. The music faded once we entered the woods. Aonghus walked without hesitating, despite the darkness and the changes he had mentioned. He knew every turn. The path climbed beside the burn until the firelight disappeared behind the trees.

We found the birch grove beneath a clear patch of sky. White trunks rose around us, their remaining leaves trembling in the wind. Aonghus released my hand and crossed to the largest tree.

His palm rested against the bark.

“I slept beneath this one,” he said. “Jessie was curled between the roots when I found her.”

“She must have been terrified.”

“She bit me.”

I laughed. “That sounds like a MacRae.”

“She apologised in the morning.”

“Less like a MacRae.”

Aonghus smiled, but his hand remained against the tree. I gave him time to look around. The grove had survived without him, although none of the trees would be the ones he remembered. Even the burn had probably changed its course.

“Do you want to stay here?” I asked.

He turned towards me. “In the woods?”

“You’re free. You could return to whatever fae do when they aren’t trapped inside wicker baskets.”

Aonghus came back to me and took both my hands. “Where will you go?”

“Gran offered me the cottage for a week.”

“And after the week?”

I had spent months dreaming about walking away from my job, but Monday had always waited at the end of every fantasy. The school would manage without me. Somebody else could hold a meeting about glue sticks and what textbooks were most suited for children who had no interest in ever opening a textbook.

“I think I’ll need longer.”