Wolves

Late at night, when the entire household was asleep and all the windows dark, a single wolf padded through the snow straight up to the front door and sniffed at the handle, the black button of its snout brushing the tarnished brass, nostrils yawning wide as it inhaled. The wolf breathed in the scent, of what? of wood, of paint, of brass, of anyone who had recently opened the door. Then it turned and, in seconds, had disappeared back beyond the tree-line.

That was it.

*****

We had the top down despite the cold, the two of us bound up tight and separate in coats and scarves and hats beneath a cloudless winter sky, Emily's little car slicing through the quiet of the forest, kicking up a flurry of snow in its wake, Emily's cello strapped in the back seat like a third passenger.

There was a time, not so very long ago, when I would have ridden in the back seat and the cello would have taken the premium position next to the driver.

'It's a lot of money,' she said, shouting above the noise of the wind.

'I know,' I replied, and then turned my head to watch the trees flashing by, signalling that I did not want to talk about it.

We hit the sanctuary before dark. Colin, all shaggy and wearing a red checked lumberjack shirt, walked out to meet us and hugged himself and stamped his feet on the doorstep.

'Like the beard,' I called as soon as Emily killed the engine.

He fingered his chin, stroking the straggly tufts of hair, and said 'Sue hates it. You had better put that thing in the garage, there's more snow forecast, I'll put the landrover on the drive.'

'Where's Sue?'

'Feeding Molly, she'll be down in a sec.'

My sister descended the stairs with my niece hooked in the crook of her arm as we stamped into the hallway and began unwrapping ourselves. She looked different already, she looked like someone's mother. It suited her.

'Hello,' she said, her voice hushed but enthusiastic, 'this is Molly.'

I brought my face close to the baby and gently lifted one of her hands with my index finger, enjoying the feel of its grip.

'She's sleeping,' whispered Sue, and we all stared at what was hardly more than a roll of white linen in my sisters arms and the tiny, flawless, translucent face peeping out from within it, pursed lips working in and out, nostrils flaring as she breathed, eyes turning beneath their lids.

'She's beautiful,' whispered Emily.

'Yes,' I said, 'congratulations.'

Later we sat round the fire and had a drink before dinner. The white plastic baby monitor centred on the table next to the cashew nuts.

'How are the wolves?' I asked.

'We're not sure actually,' said Colin, 'they haven't fed for two days.'

'What does that mean?' asked Emily.

'Can't be sure,' he said, 'if it was just one I'd assume it was sick, but it's all of them which might mean they've found another food supply.'

'Like what?'

He shrugged, 'deer maybe.'

'Maybe,' echoed Sue.

'Maybe what?' said Emily, sharp on the fact that something was not being said.

I looked at my sister - both of us remembering. 'Just maybe,' she said. 'If they've got out onto a farm they'll be trouble.'

'We have to check,' said Colin. 'I'll be going to look first thing tomorrow morning. If you want to come with.'

'Certainly,' I said, 'Em?'

'Yes I'll come,' she said, and then, looking around the room, 'it's a beautiful house.'

We went silent and I noticed Sue and Colin glance at each other. I struggled to think of something to say but Molly beat me to it, crying on the baby monitor, bouncing the little blue lights into red. I stood up and poked the fire as Sue left us.

'How's work?' asked Colin.

'Dreary,' I said, 'there's very little going on.'

'How about you Emily?' he said.

'Auditioning,' she said, 'got a thing in Liverpool next week.'

'Wouldn't that be a bit of a long way for you?'

'Yes it would.'

He said nothing. I put another log on the fire.

*****

Later, when we were undressing for bed Emily brought it up again. 'Did you see how they went when I mentioned the house,' she said, 'as if I was going to take it away from them.'

'It is their home,' I said, 'and they've just got the baby.'

'They'd still have the money.'

'It's more than the money,' I said, 'it's the sanctuary. It was Mum and Dad's life work.'

Emily did not reply and quickly buried herself beneath the duvet, shivering one delightful shiver at the brief cold and the warmth of the bed. It was Sue's old room, Sue and Colin were in the master bedroom - our parents room, my room was being repainted ready for Molly.

'Are you sure you want to come with us tomorrow?' I asked climbing quickly in next to her, 'only it could take a long time.'

'You think the women should stay home with the baby?'

'I thought you might want to practice.'

'No,' she said, 'I want to hunt wolves.'

*****

Later, in the middle of the night, she shook me gently awake. 'They're howling,' she whispered.

I lay there, deliciously sleepy and warm under the duvet, listening. For a moment nothing and then, clearly, a voice that could have almost been human, could have almost been the wind, but could only ever really have been a wolf.

Emily sat up, letting cold air under the duvet. 'How far away is it?' she said.

'I don't know.'

It came again, clear, ringing, sonorous. Somehow desperately sad.

'Not far,' I said, and turned over, snuggling myself back into the bed and back into sleep.

*****

Later still, Molly had woken and howled her own very different howl, choking, needy, desperate.

That had woken me up.

*****

We bundled ourselves up like an arctic expedition and headed out first thing. I had been up for a while. Unable to get back to sleep after Molly woke me I had gone down to the kitchen, made a pot of coffee, and read while the sun came up. Old books I remembered from childhood, cookbooks, gardening books, books about wolves - the kind of books people keep in the kitchen.

When Colin appeared he made porridge and a fresh pot of coffee for the thermos. Sue followed soon after and made sandwiches one-handed with Molly held in the other and would accept no help. In no time, with Emily still yawning and carrying a steaming, half-finished mug of tea with her, we trudged out of the door into the snow.

Colin drove, racing confidently down forest paths, touring fields and clearings until finally we saw tracks on the ground. He pulled up and we got out, shouldered our backpacks, blew into our hands and stamped our feet while he radioed back to Sue. Then we went by foot, following the tracks directly into the forest.

Colin led the way, followed by Emily, followed by me, single file through the snow.

'You'll have done this before,' said Colin, not looking back.

'I grew up doing this,' I said.

'You want to go in front?'

'No thanks,' I said, 'it's been a long time. I'm rusty.'

'We need to talk about the house,' he said apologetically, 'about what you're going to do with your half.'

I trod behind him, fitting my feet into his footprints.

'Sue's getting anxious,' he added.

'Truth is I don't know,' I said.

'We can't afford to buy you out,' he said, 'we looked into it.'

'I figured,' I said, 'but it's a lot of money.'

'An awful lot of money,' added Emily.

Colin did not say anything and neither did I, somewhere in the distance a blackbird was singing. I was angry with Emily for saying that, it was not her concern. I watched her back as she trudged along in front of me, her every breath exploding in billowing clouds. The world was black and white; the stark, bare pillars of the trees surrounded us, evenly spaced, with only snow and the brittle framework of dead bracken between them, all but identical in every direction. I checked my compass and noted the position of the sun. I noticed Colin do the same.

'The tracks are turning east,' he said.

'Good,' I replied.

'Why good?' asked Emily.

'Away from the road,' I said, still annoyed with her.

'You think they might get run over?' she asked.

'Not really,' I said, and because I was annoyed with her, and because it had reached the point where I could not avoid telling her without lying to her, I told her. 'It might be a car crash.'

Emily started to ask a question and then stopped. 'Oh,' she said.

I thought about Sue. We had both been there when our father had found it, both of us had had nightmares about it for weeks afterwards, occasionally I still did. I supposed she still did too.

The crunch of Emily's footfalls missed just one beat and brought her back within touching distance of me. I extended my hand but thought better of it, the walk was tiring through the thick snow and low branches. I was working up a sweat beneath my coat and expected Emily was too. Human contact would not have been welcome.

'Does that really happen?' she asked.

'It's a possibility,' I said, 'but very remote - like winning the lottery remote.'

'But you still buy a ticket.'

'I need the money.'

Exactly twelve footsteps later Colin said 'do you really? Need the money.'

'Depends on your definition of need,' I said. 'Rent's going up, petrol's going up, company's on a pay freeze, Em's not working ...'

'But you're still driving a sports car?'

There was something about Colin, something relaxed and guileless that meant he could say that sort of thing without sounding like my mother.

'Insurance is going to hurt this year.'

The steam train puff-puff of Emily's condensing breath paused and it billowed languorously out around her neck. We had not argued about the car yet, but it was brewing. There was no doubt she could not afford to keep it by herself.

'We do need to work something out,' said Colin. 'Sue and I can't have this hanging over our heads the whole time.'

I counted down twelve footsteps before I answered. "I'll decide soon,' I said. 'I promise.'

We walked on in silence for about half an hour, our footsteps falling back into synch, Emily fitting her feet into Colin's footprints, me fitting mine into Emily's.

Without warning Colin stopped and Emily, lost in the rhythm of the march, nearly walked straight into his back.

'What is it?'

He pointed. Ahead of us lay the edge of the woods, and beyond that the long slope down to the back of the house. We had come full circle. A few steps further revealed that the tracks did not deviate but ran straight to Colin and Sue's home.

'Weird,' I said, but I was cut off by a commotion from below. A blurred grey flurry of wolves shot out from behind the garage in frantic activity, we heard ferocious growling and saw a spray of red hit the snow. They were fighting.

Colin reacted first and, without a word, started running towards the house. Emily and I followed, charging full pelt down the hill, kicking forward powdery breakers of snow as we went. Emily tripped and fell, and when I looked back to see if she was all right so did I. She just picked herself up and kept running and so I did the same.

Before any of us got near however Sue walked out of the back door cradling a shotgun. She fired one shot into the air and the wolves all froze still. She fired another and they scattered, loping silently over the snow away from us and back to the trees. I saw them slow the moment they hit the woods, they would watch from there.

I reached the house a minute behind Colin, both of us wheezing and doubled over. On the ground was the carcass of a wolf, its blood spreading in a wide crimson circle as it melted and mixed with the snow. Colin took off his gloves and fingered through the torn fur.

'No tag,' he said. 'It's not one of ours.'

Emily came panting towards us, clutching her side and running with a limp. 'Inside!' she shouted. 'One went inside!'

Colin gasped 'Molly!' - Sue just ran.

In the living room, in front of the cot where Molly still slept, stood a single wolf. Teeth bared.

'The gun,' hissed Colin.

'It's empty,' Sue replied.

The wolf, as tall as the writing desk in the corner, more muscular than any dog, seemed entirely out of place in the room. A steaming mug of coffee and two biscuits on the table, a log fire in the background. It seemed confined, as if it could not turn without knocking something over, as if its very being in the room was an act of unnatural delicacy, like a weightlifter holding a champagne flute. A line of damp paw prints led up to it across the carpet.

It looked at us, lowered its head - showing the tag around its neck, and walked forwards. Sue and Colin parted and it walked between them, its shoulders brushing against their calves, its tail flicking over Sue's foot. I pressed myself against the wall as it walked past and then out the door. From outside, Emily - who had not entered the house for fear of what she might see, let go a tiny, muted, shriek.

Sue rushed straight forward and picked up Molly, waking her. 'It was protecting her,' she said, 'they were all protecting her from the other wolf.'

*****

Later Emily asked me if that was what the wolf was really doing. We had volunteered to walk back and get the landrover, Colin and Sue needed time together with Molly.

'I don't know,' I said, honestly.

'I can't think of any other explanation.'

'Neither can I.'

Emily wanted to talk but I needed to concentrate on following our trail. I was rusty.

'What will you do about the house?'

'I can't turf them out.'

'You'll just give them your half?'

'No,' I said. I was struggling as we passed through a thick patch of undergrowth. 'Well ...' I continued, realising what the decision meant, 'not just like that, but it'll work out that way, or as good as.'

'As bad as,' said Emily. She said it almost under her breath.

In the distance, a wolf howled.