Free Magpie Hall by Rachael King

around me, breathing in my ear and guiding my hands. I had talked to him as I worked, explaining to him the myriad reasons I had come, assuring him that I wasn’t the one who wanted to renovate the house and cast him out forever.
    With nobody to collect them, the walnuts were gathering in drifts on the grass, already dampening with the coming dusk. Further on, Sam was making his way slowly up the gravel road on a quad bike. He must have seen me because he stopped and waved. On a whim, I opened the window and leaned out as far as I could.
    ‘Hey!’ I yelled. ‘What time do you knock off?’
    ‘Soon!’ he shouted back.
    ‘Come over for a drink!’
    He gave me the thumbs up and revved his engine. In seconds he had disappeared up the road, two dogs loping after him. In the distance, smoke poured from the chimneys of the cottages, adding to the haze.
    I went back to my desk and looked with satisfaction at the work I had done. I had gone off on a tangent but had been reluctant to stop writing and was surprised when I looked up to find the room darkening. I had done enough for one day. I printed out the new pages and just had time to have a shower and dress before the front door bell rang.
    ‘I tried the kitchen door but it was locked.’ Sam frowned, as though I had slighted him personally.
    ‘Yeah, sorry about that. Just taking precautions.’
    He sniggered. ‘City girl. Nobody locks their houses out here.’
    ‘Well, maybe they should.’ I felt a blush bloom on my cheeks.
    ‘Okay, sorry.’ His hair was wet and he smelled of deodorant. His Swanndri had been replaced by a fleece and he wore sneakers instead of gumboots.
    We sat down at the round kitchen table in the bay window. I poured him a beer from the bottle of Lion Red in the fridge and myself a glass of the red wine I had found in the pantry.
    Sam and I made idle chit-chat as the shadows deepened, then disappeared with the last of the light. With the sun now gone, the sky moved from light blue to gold to pink. While the room grew darker around us, we made no move to turn the lights on. Behind him, I could see the magpies take a last turn of the lawn, and it was as though they were watching the house, waiting for something. The room was quiet in our pauses, with only the steady hum of the freezer undercutting the silence.
    We finished our drinks, poured seconds. We discovered unimportant facts about each other: he had worked there for three years and was now Josh’s right-hand man, with more responsibility, but more freedom, too. He had a chipped tooth from a small accident with the quad bike and when he wasn’t speaking the tip of his tongueappeared between his lips as it explored the gap. I told him I was there to work on my thesis, but he didn’t ask me about the subject, so I went on to say that I wanted to spend some time here before the house was renovated, to remember it as it was with Grandpa in it.
    ‘I can understand you wanting to do that,’ he said. ‘Change is hard.’
    I asked him if he had spoken to Josh about the farm being sold, and whether Josh had known.
    ‘Yeah, he knew. Not happy about it, neither.’
    ‘What did he say?’
    ‘Nothing much.’
    Something in his face made me think otherwise, that in fact the manager had had plenty to say. After all, he had started as a farmhand twenty-odd years ago, and worked here most of his adult life; his children were growing up here. What would become of them once the farm was sold? I was dreading bumping into Josh, seeing his accusatory stare. I had no doubt that he would somehow think it was all my fault.
    ‘Guess I’ll be out of a job soon.’ The darkness I had seen the day before returned to Sam’s face.
    ‘Not necessarily,’ I said. ‘Whoever buys it might still keep all the staff on.’
    ‘Yeah, whatever.’ He drained his half-full glass. ‘I’m young. Don’t wanna stay here forever.’
    ‘How old are you, anyway?’
    ‘Twenty-four.’
    I smiled and refilled his glass without