The Yuletide Child

few feet away.
Obediently not moving, Dylan peered, but at firstcould not see anything interesting. Then there was a shirr of wings, a flash of gold and cream. A tiny bird flew up to a branch of the conifer and perched on a web of ivy. A second later Dylan spotted a basket-shape hanging there; the little bird disappeared into it.
Looking up at Ross, she silently shaped the word ‘nest’.
He nodded. ‘A goldcrest’s nest,’ he whispered, so softly she could only just hear him.
The bird flew out and vanished among the trees, and Ross said very quietly, ‘The nest is made of moss—isn’t it clever, the way it’s made? She must have fledglings. We often get goldcrests here; they feed on insects which live on conifers, breed in the bark—beetles and flies, for instance—not many birds live among fir trees, but it’s a habitat that agrees with goldcrests.’
‘I’ve never seen a goldcrest before,’ she said wonderingly. ‘It’s such a wonderful colour.’
‘No, you wouldn’t have—they aren’t city birds.’
‘I wish I could see the fledglings. Do you know, I’ve never seen a bird’s nest? If I’d had a brother I might have done, but there was just me and Jenny and we never went bird-nesting.’
‘I’m glad to hear it—these days it’s very frowned on. You’re encouraged to use binoculars and watch a nest, never to interfere with it, and certainly never to remove eggs.’
‘Do people still do that?’
‘Unfortunately, yes. Some collectors have no conscience. Luckily, that tree is far too high to climb. Goldcrests aren’t common birds; we have to protect them.’ Glancing at his watch, he said, ‘Look at the time! We’ve been in here nearly an hour. Doesn’t time flywhen you’re enjoying yourself? We’d better start walking back.’
Dylan was relieved to see the sunlit edge of the forest reappearing. There was something disturbing about the deep interior of the forest; it was so silent and full of shadows, making the skin on the back of her neck creep. She couldn’t say why, except that, perhaps, she knew so little about the natural world. She had lived in a great city all her life. She had a lot to learn.
Just before they left the forest something red flashed up a tree, making her jump and stand still, staring upward.
‘What was that?’
‘A red squirrel,’ Ross said casually.
Her eyes widened. ‘Red? I’ve never seen a red one; in London we only have grey squirrels.’ She stood staring up the tree; the squirrel peered down at her, its bushy tail flicking to and fro. ‘Will it come if I feed it some nuts? There were squirrels in the park near where I lived which came right up to you and took nuts from your hand.’
‘They were semi-tame—this is a wild squirrel,’ Ross told her. ‘It might run down and snatch nuts if you threw them and stayed back, but it wouldn’t eat out of your hand.’
As they finally left the forest, coming out into the sunlight, she asked him, ‘Have you got any books I could read? On the forest?’
‘I’ll find one for you,’ Ross promised. ‘And this evening, after supper, we’ll take another walk. I’ll show you the moths; they are really something! The forest is very different at night.’
Dylan hoped he didn’t notice the atavistic shudder running through her at the idea of going into the forestin the dark. Smiling bravely, she said, ‘Wonderful, I’ll look forward to that.’ Somehow she had to learn to love the forest for his sake.
They never got very far among the trees that night, though. Before they had gone more than a few steps Dylan felt something scuttle across her face and screamed, frantically brushing her skin to get rid of whatever it was.
Ross had a torch in one hand; he switched it on and turned it on her, blinding her. ‘Stand still. Oh, it’s just a spider.’ He flicked one finger. ‘There, it’s gone. It was a wolf spider.’
Shuddering, she said, ‘A wolf spider? Why is it called that? Does it bite?’
Ross switched off his torch and put both arms round her, pulling her close to him, kissing her hair. ‘Of course not. Are you scared of spiders? There’s no need to be; there are no poisonous spiders in Britain. Wolf spiders hunt their prey instead of just sitting in a web waiting for it. And they eat other insects, not people!’
‘How was I to know that? I’m not up on spiders.’ She tried to laugh, lifting her face, and saw his eyes gleaming in the shadows. ‘Even you seem strange,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t know you out here, in the dark.’
‘Then I’ll have to remind you who I am,’ he murmured thickly, his head coming down.
His mouth blotted out memory. She was lost at once, kissing him back passionately, her knees giving. Sliding her arms around his neck, she held him tightly, pressing closer, her body moulding itself to his.
Ross pulled her down into the long, whispering ferns and grass, the scent of the earth and the pines making her head swim. Without breaking off their kiss, they hurriedly began undressing each other with shaky hands.Dylan buried her flushed, feverish face in his naked chest, groaning with desire, her lips open on his skin.
‘I want you so much.’
‘Not as much as I want you,’ he muttered, sliding on top of her, and her breath exhaled in a strangled gasp as he parted her thighs.
‘Darling...oh, darling...’
Her arms around his back, she caught him between her thighs, arching up to meet that first, deep thrust. The need intensified into a frenzy as they moved together, their bodies totally entwined, riding fiercely towards the same intense pleasure.
Their deep moans of satisfaction floated up between the trees into the dark night sky. Afterwards they lay sleepily on their crushed bed of fern, still closely twined, his arm under her, her leg curled across him, staring up into the shadows where pale moths flitted, glistening with powdered wings.
‘I love your moths,’ she whispered, drowsily wondering how she could ever have