Weaveworld

2

‘We should have a holiday.’ Geraldine suggested a week after the funeral. ‘You haven’t been sleeping well.’

He was sitting at the dining-room window, watching the garden.

‘We need to do some work on the house,’ he said. ‘It’s depressing me.’

‘We can always sell it,’ she replied.

It was a simple solution, and one his torpid mind hadn’t conceived of. That’s a bloody good idea,’ he said. ‘Find somewhere without a railway at the bottom of the garden.’

They started searching for another house immediately, before the better weather inflated prices. Geraldine was in her element, leading him round the properties with a seamless outpouring of observations and ideas. They found a modest terraced house in Wavertree which they both liked, and put an offer in for it, which was accepted. But the Chariot Street house proved more difficult to move. Two purchasers came to the brink of signing contracts, then withdrew. Even Geraldine’s high spirits lost buoyancy as the weeks drew on.

They lost the Wavertree house at the beginning of March, and were obliged to begin the search over again. But their enthusiasm was much depleted, and they found nothing they liked.

And still, in dreams, the birds spoke. And still he couldn’t interpret their wisdom.