May, After the Storm
The first washed up on Porthcressa Beach. A dozen more in the following days – mangled corpses dotted around the island’s shores; others spotted floating out at sea.
The wildlife team put on the protective gear that strikes fear into the hearts of visitors. Over the next two weeks, the apocalyptic white walkers will be spotted removing carcasses of more and more dead seabirds: fifty, sixty. The remains are sent on to Defra.
Bird flu. The word pandemic triggers painful memories. Panic that it will spread to chickens, ducks, livestock. Dogs! Humans!
‘It’s a curse,’ pronounces Miss Elisabeth, ‘It’s the maid’s revenge,’ although no one listens to her.
Perhaps they should. Perhaps it is.