The last ribbon of cloud scudded across the sky as Eleanor stepped out from her neat town cottage and locked the door. She gazed for a moment at the harvest moon now rising over the trees and set off down the narrow road which led off the estate. She carried two carrier bags which were awkward and heavy. Her weekly route took her across a stream, along the strip of wood where she had played as a child, and then along a lane which wound its way randomly across the fields to a nearby hamlet where her mother lived.

Today though, after crossing the stream, she turned onto a footpath which led steeply down into the woods. She walked on without hurry, drinking in the warm Autumn scents. She turned again onto a small path which wove around small shrubs and brambles and where from to time to time she had to stoop to avoid some overhanging obstacles. After a while the ground began to rise again and soon she came out onto the edge of a grassy clearing fringed with bracken still pungent with the days heat.

He was waiting motionless in the shadow at the opposite end. He was larger than when she had last seen him and his fur was thick and shiny. She stood quietly for a moment letting him smell her scent then stepped into the centre of the clearing. She stared at where she knew his eyes were fixed on her.

“It’s time” she said after a while, still looking intently into his eyes. “It’s time” she repeated, gently. The wolf edged slowly backwards lowering its shoulders until its front legs lay along the ground in front of it. Only its head showed from the heavy bracken cover. Its lips curled slowly back baring its teeth as it lifted its head towards the night sky as if to howl. A painful moan like some large animal dying filled the clearing. The bracken waved to and fro above him. After a while the silence returned and the bracken was still.

“I’ve brought these for you to put on, when you’re ready” she said, and she tossed one of the bags onto the grass in front of him.

He stood up awkwardly from the trampled bracken and loped slowly over to the bag. The clothes were a little tight for him now. The summer had been fine and food plentiful. She handed him the bags as they made off across the clearing, Wolfrun catching his face on some overhanging brambles as he moved uncertainly down the path. Eleanor followed gazing after him. She’d have to buy him some more clothes, something warm and soft.

They were talking gently now as they reached the lane. She slipped her hand under his arm to steady him. She told him how her boss had taken delivery of his new chair today and her worries about the planned office restructuring. She felt him press her arm closer against his side and the easy muscles working under his shirt. She reached up and kissed him gently on his ear. A car was making its way uncertainly across the fields, lunging clumsily around one bend and into the next. It rounded the last bend ahead and lurched towards them, its lights dazzling their eyes. They stood well back on the verge as it sped past, full of youngsters laughing and shouting, a heavy beat spilling from its open windows, dispensing their latest sound to a startled countryside.

They stood together in the sudden dark listening to the car’s progress, willing it safely round the next bend. When their vision returned they made their way up the lane. A light was shining from a window ahead. Wolfrun opened the garden gate for her and followed her up the uneven brick path, letting the gate bang shut behind him. Mrs. Locke would know they had arrived and needn’t to be afraid.

Eleanor reached up to the ledge for the key and unlocked the door.

“Is that you Eli? I’ve been worried dear. It’s getting so dark now. I was sure you said today on the telephone”.

“Hello Mrs. Locke. How are you keeping?” asked Wolfrun cheerfully.

“Hello my dear, you are looking well. Not seen you for ever such a long time. Why don’t you come and see me more? Have you wiped your feet? Put that ole bag down over her and let me see what you’ve brought. Put the kettle on dearie, I’m bursting for a cuppa. Oh Eli!, you’ve bought those expensive fish fingers again. Waste of money, they’re all the same you know. And Rachael was only saying Tesco’s own are two for the price of one in town. More money than sense my girl”.

Eleanor kissed her mum on the forehead and smoothed her hair. She gave her a hug and settled next to her on the side of her sofa. Wolfrun backed quietly away and filled the kettle. He studied the knobs carefully and set the kettle on the back plate. He moved about quickly gathering the dirty crockery and carried it to the sink.

“Rachael’s son was here yesterday in his big car. He’s a sort. Doesn’t even cut her grass for her anymore. She says he brings her presents, but he only comes when he’s broke. Did you remember the strawberry jam dear? I do like a nice bit jam this time of the year.”

“Tea or coffee, Mrs. Locke?”

“Whatever you’re making my dear. Tea, coffee, I don’t mind. Whatever. Tea if you like, but if you prefer coffee, I don’t mind. There’s plenty of coffee. Rachael got some extra in last time he took her to town in that car of his. She’s a daft brush”

Wolfrun reached uncertainly for the coffee jar.

“Make us a nice pot of tea, will you darling” Eleanor said gently, following his struggle.

He set to again, emptying the teapot, warming it with some boiling water and arranging the clean cups and saucers on the tray.

“Don’t forget to warm the pot dear. Can’t make a good cup of tea if you don’t warm the pot. Rachael never warms the pot. Says that’s all old fashioned. Just puts a teabag in a mug and sloshes in the water, milk and all. Says you can even get teabags that wring themselves out. Got drawstrings on, like ole pajamas” She laughed and peered closely at her daughter.

“When you going to settle down Eli? You’re not getting any younger. We none of us are. Some nice young man at the office” she said, eying Wolfrun sadly, carefully carrying the tray across the room and spilling some of the milk onto the tray. “What happened to young what’s his name. Nice manners and such a nice smile. Chat for hours with him. You let him get away, you know Eli, I tried to tell you. Different hook for different fish. You’ve always been headstrong you have, always had to make your own mistakes. Not like your sister”. Eleanor poured out three cups of tea and handed one carefully to her mother.

“Had a nice card from Carol last week. Said they’ll soon be moving on again. Done ever so well with his job out there in Canada. Why, you’ve brought my favourite fruit cake, you darlings. Rachael says they’re getting the Christmas things in the shops already. Think of it, haven’t even got the harvest in yet and they’re selling Christmas pudding!” They get earlier every year. It’ll be Easter next.”

Mrs. Locke settled back to enjoy her cake. Wolfrun helped Eleanor strip the old sheets off the bed and smoothed down the clean sheets they had brought. They tidied her bedroom and Eleanor fished a sprig of fresh lavender from her pocket for the tiny glass vase on the dresser. She stood for a moment gazing at the old fine photograph of her father and mother when they were young. Dad in his flying jacket, fur collar turned up all proud and vulnerable. Wolfrun came over to her, caressed her shoulders and nuzzled his face in her hair. “We ought get a move on, darling”. He hugged her again and moved off into the bathroom. Mrs. Locke was telling them about the new gameshow she had been watching on television.

“Such silly rot my dear you’d never believe it. Hardly worth watching. Lord, they do make me laugh. What would poor Ernie have made of it all, bless him. Just lads they are dear, never grow up, have to mother them to the grave, if I say it myself. Don’t forget to leave the seat down dear if you have to go”, and she started cackling again.

Eleanor tidied away the remaining cake and tea things and glanced around the tiny living room. She checked that her mother hadn’t turned off the new heating unit and pocketed a milk bill from the sideboard.

They were standing in the porch. “Off with you two, then. Don’t let me freeze to death now I’m all tidied up. And watch out for those young lads in their cars, absolutely no sense of direction. Three rings when you’re home safe and don’t forget to get me one of those nice little Christmas puddings before they’re all gone. Mind how you go dears. Go on then, what are you waiting for, shut the door.”

Wolfrun reached over and clumsily planted a on Mrs. Locke’s cheek.

“Don’t start on me you maniac, you should be sorting her out. None of us getting any younger. And you’ll have to do better than that”, she added giggling, and she bolted the door behind them so that, by the time she had finished, even God Almighty would have to wait outside till the morning.

They walked down the path and shut the gate behind them, drinking in the cold still air. A mist was beginning to settle in the fields leading down to the stream. They watched the stars sparkling and let their thoughts wander, while they relaxed with each other again. Eleanor reached up and touched the back of his neck, gently stroking his tense muscles.

“She’s very kind hearted”, Eleanor said. “She likes you a lot. You frighten her a bit”.

They walked on, quicker now, through the mist hanging over the stream and up to the little estate. Neatly tied bin bags stood at the end of the each drive ready for the morning. A young cat slowly crossed the road sensing better fare from a bigger pile of bags. It stopped halfway and looked over its shoulder at them.

Eleanor unlocked the back door. “Just come in and help me get the fire going” she said, looking down. Wolfrun backed away a little and looked up at the sky. The moon shone down over the mist as he listened to the sounds of the night. He hadn’t eaten and now he was feeling tired. His body ached with a restless pain that confused him. He wanted to stretch out fiercely on the ground and run wildly through the night until his muscles warmed with an honest ache.

“Come on, I’ve got some supper in the oven”. She half hugged him, half pulled him in. She set him to light the little wood burner while she quickly prepared their plates.

He had eaten his lamb and most of hers, left his vegetables and quickly dozed off propped up in the corner of her couch in front of the fire. She sipped her coffee as the last of the small birch logs crackled in the fireplace. She lay against his side, his arm around her, her mind running over the day. She’d buy her mother those pretty curtains she’d seen for Christmas. They’d go nicely with her old armchair that she’d had recovered last year. And better get some Christmas cards, so they could send one in time to Carol. She needed a new pair of shoes.

She listened to his breathing and watched the last ember blaze up briefly in the grate. She wondered whether if he ate properly on his own. She ought to persuade him not to eat so much red meat. She could start leaving some chicken behind the shed of an evening. She’d have to cook it properly and tell him to be careful with the bones.

“Come on darling”, she said, and kissed him. His eyes opened wide. She met his gaze and stared into to his big brown eyes.

“Come on”, she said firmly. “There’s still time”.

Godfrey Powell 22/9/98