Page 44 of Outlier


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“I needed to assess the situation directly,” Vicky explained. “Pregnant or nursing mothers need to be out in the day, but otherwise, the hedgehog might be injured or sick. This one?—”

“Barry,” said Pete, and Vicky nodded.

Was I going mad? Were theynaminghedgehogs?

“Yes,” Vicky said. “Barry was loaded with parasites. You see, if it’s a broken leg, then the hog needs a vet, but parasites can be dealt with at the local rescue centre. I work with the British Hedgehog Preservation Society.”

“Well, Barry was sorted out thanks to Vicky, and now he’s a proud dad. Hey Vics, do you want to come over and see them? They come into the garden most nights.”

“Oh, could I?” Vicky was nearly bouncing in her seat with excitement now. Then she glanced at me, and her expression faltered. “I mean. If it’s okay with Mike, that is.” She looked nervous again, and I hated that expression on her face.

“I’d love to see your hedgehog, love.”

Mark snorted, and I punched him in the arm.

“But, for now, all you bastards can bugger off so I can feed my woman.”

“I’m sorry about earlier,” Vicky said in a small voice to Mark. “I sometimes get a bit jumpy, and I’m not great in new environments.”

“Don’t even mention it, love,” Mark said in a soft voice. “I shouldn’t go about landing my big mitts on unsuspecting women’s shoulders.”

“Oh no, I?—”

“Seriously, it’s fine. My cousin has… some similar stuff going on as you. I totally understand.”

“Right, you lot, bugger off,” Jimbo, the bartender, snapped. “This one needs to order, don’t you, love?”

“Oh… okay,” Vicky said to Jimbo, her voice unsure. “I thought the procedure was to order at the bar?”

“The procedure is whatever I bloody well want it to be, and Vernon’s likely to sod off back home in the next half hour. I’m not having Lady Harding sitting in my pub unfed. You’re too skinny anyway, love.”

“Jimbo, you know I’m not a lady,” Vicky said quietly.

He shrugged. “You are to me. Now what’ll it be?”

Vicky

I’d eaten at The Badger’s Sett before, seeing as the Hardings were regulars there. I mean, the Hardings owned the whole village, and therefore had to support the village pub. So I knew the menu, and Jimbo knew how plain I liked my burger to be; how I liked the salad on a separate plate with no dressing. And for once, when I was out, I actually ate. Which was good, because Mike was right: I did need feeding up. Margot, Lottie and Ollie had been on my case about it for a few weeks.

“Are you sure you don’t mind this?” I asked Mike as we walked the short distance to Pete’s house. Mike smiled at me and tucked me under his arm. I’d never walked arm-in-arm with anyone before. It wasn’t the most efficient method of ambulation, but it was warm, and it felt unbelievably safe, so in this particular case I was willing to sacrifice some efficiency.

“Of course I don’t mind, love,” he said into the hair on the top of my head. “I want to meet Barry and his family as well.”

“Oh, well we’re not actuallyguaranteedto see the hedgehogs. Their nocturnal behaviour is not always predictable and––”

“Vicky, love. I’m just happy to be with you, okay?”

“Oh, okay,” I whispered as I buried more into his side.

We did get to see the hedgehogs.

Pete, Emily, and their two kids were already excited when we arrived, as Barry was out with the full contingent of his family.

I sat down on the kitchen floor with the kids facing the garden next to the glass double doors. I liked kids in general: they were less complicated than adults, and they said what they meant. Pete and Emily’s little girl, Maisie crawled into my lap and played with my hair, which was the extent ofcommunication with Maisie, who was only two. Their eldest, Marcus, asked me manymanyhedgehog questions. At eight years old, Marcus was nearly as informed about hedgerow animals as me. I’d inducted him into my hedgehog squad last year.

After we left and got back into Mike’s Land Rover, he sat there for a moment before he turned to me.

“Er… look,” I said quickly. “I know it’s been a bit odd. You probably don’t have dates where the woman is too fussy for the really nice restaurant you chose. Or who drags you off to watch hedgehogs for an hour.”