The Nesting - C. J. Cooke Page 0,128
huge seamless wall of glass offering views all the way to the city.
“It’s your room,” Tom said, shoving his hands in his pockets and shifting from foot to foot. “Oh, but please don’t feel you have to. I don’t mean for you to stay as our nanny . . . As our guest. For as long as you like.” He cleared his throat. “It’s just an offer.”
I told him I would love to.
* * *
—
For many days I stayed in bed reading and occasionally writing while Tom rebuilt his relationship with his daughters, taking them to parks during the day and, when the weather grew warmer, for long walks through the hills. We never saw the Sad Lady, or Hjørund, again. Maren ordered us all not to mess with the trees or the river, just to be on the safe side.
I finished my novel. In the end, Alexa broke free from the people holding her hostage, and went on to invent a mobile phone app that created tunnels—kind of the opposite of 3D printers. I was pleased with it, but the plot had grown a bit far-fetched. Alexa was always me. I knew that. I printed it off, quietly put it in a drawer, and looked out at Coco and Gaia painting in the playroom. There were other ways to write stories, I thought. I was writing my own story. And I was playing a big role in theirs.
I told Tom about Mia. He told me that when Mia turned eighteen I could reach out to her, if I wanted. He had a friend who might be able to help find her. Less than four years away. I had something major to look forward to. And I was in a much better place mentally to approach Mia than I had ever been before.
* * *
—
Today, Gaia, Coco, and I are taking Dora outside for our big Fly Away day. It’s spring, so she really ought to be going off now to find her own nest.
“Do we have to let her go?” Gaia asks gloomily.
“I’m afraid so,” I say. “The problem is that if we hold on to her for too long, she’ll never be able to return to the wild. She’ll be too inexperienced, and she won’t be able to build her own nest.”
Gaia looks on the verge of tears. “Sophie . . . I mean, Lexi,” she says.
“Yes?”
“Can we visit Dora?”
“I don’t know. Maybe she’ll visit us.”
She brightens at that.
We tip Dora’s box carefully by a grove of fir trees, close to where I’d spotted other ravens making their nests.
“Out you go, Dora,” I tell her. “There’s a good girl.”
Gaia pours a trail of pine nuts away from the box, and instead of immediately pecking them all up, Dora turns and looks from me to Gaia. It’s almost as though she knows what we’re doing.
Then we step back. I’ve prepared Gaia for what might happen next. Dora might follow us all the way back to the house, but we have to be firm for her own good.
Dora takes a few hops toward us. We wait. It takes about twenty minutes, but finally another raven swoops down and stands in front of Dora, ruffling its wings. They seem to have some sort of raven convo, bobbing their heads and walking around each other making little clucks. Then the other bird flies up to a branch, and Dora follows.
She doesn’t fly back down.
acknowledgments
Thank you to my UK agent, Alice Lutyens, for believing in this book right from the moment I e-mailed a very sketchy paragraph, and to my US agent, Deborah Schneider—massive thanks for everything. Thank you so much to my editors, Kimberley Young at HarperCollins (UK) and Danielle Perez at Berkley/Penguin Random House (USA), for superb insights and for making me work as hard as possible on the edits to ensure I made this book the best it could possibly be. Huge thanks also to Sophie Burks, Felicity Denham, Sarah Harvey, Sophia MacAskill, Melissa Pimentel, Luke Speed, and Charlotte Webb.
Thank you to my students at the University of Glasgow, and to my colleagues Sophie Collins, Colin Herd, Elizabeth Reeder, Zoë Strachan, Louise Welsh, and Jane Goldman. To my friends and writing comrades, Leanne Pearce, Nuala Ellwood, Ruth Stacey, Peta Whitney, Shelley Day Sclater, Emma Heatherington, Kathryn Maris, C. L. Taylor, and many, many others—self-doubt is my biggest hurdle and so I value your encouragement so very much.
I had a feeling that a research trip or two to Norway would be a good idea, but I could never have imagined just how transformative my trips to those stark, awe-inspiring landscapes would be to the story. I spent some time on a ship in the depths of winter sailing in the Arctic Circle, absorbing the sights, sounds, tastes, languages, and textures of Norway. This was made possible by an Arts Council England grant, for which I’m incredibly grateful. I am also very grateful to John Arne Bjerknes at the Nordic Office of Architecture for giving of his time so generously to assist with the architectural elements in the book, and for doing a fact-checking read. Thanks also to Ben McPherson for an impromptu discussion about wolves, which refined my thinking about environmental ethics.
Thank you to my audio publishers and to the voice artists and actors who bring my work to life for listeners.
Thanks to my favorite person, Jared, who gave excellent feedback as I was shaping the plot, and who likes to say he basically wrote the book but settled for a cheese sandwich in lieu of a coauthorship credit. You’re awesome, babe. Thanks for keeping the kids alive and scurvy-free while I traipsed off to Norway. Most of all, thank you for always, always believing in me. This book is dedicated to you, and to our beautiful boy, Phoenix, for inspiring the architectural element of the story. To our girls, Melody, Summer, and Willow: my jewels, my darlings, I love you all the way up to the moon and back a thousand times over.
I am so very grateful to all the many people who sell and champion my books. New Writing North has supported me since the very beginning of my writing career, in the form of a prize way back in 2008 and many other prizes and opportunities over the last twelve years. I am tremendously grateful, especially to NWN’s chief executive, the amazing Claire Malcolm, for all you have done to help me realize my dreams. Thank you also to every bookseller, librarian, literature festival organizer, and arts officer who has played a role in placing my book into a reader’s hands.
Finally, thank you so much to my readers, whose e-mails, messages, and reviews spur me on more than you can ever know. I’m thankful every single day to be able to share my love of storytelling with so many readers around the world, so thank you.
questions for discussion
1. How did The Nesting make you feel? What did you think of Tom’s decision to continue building Aurelia’s Nest near the site where Aurelia died?
2. How did you feel about the way the story was told, including Lexi’s point of view/voice and Aurelia’s diary entries? Did you ever wish you had seen more of another character’s perspective?
3. Which character did you relate to the most, and what was it about them that you connected with?
4. Were there any quotes, passages, or scenes you found particularly compelling or memorable?
5. What themes or symbolism did you pick up on throughout the story?
6. What did you think about the ending? How do you imagine the characters’ lives after the end of the story, especially Lexi’s?
7. What made the Norway setting unique? Why do you think it was so important to the story?
8. Did The Nesting change your perspective on veganism or the environment?
9. What changes or decisions would you make if you were turning the book into a movie? Who would you cast to play the main characters?
Photo by C. J. Cooke
C. J. Cooke is an award-winning poet and novelist published in twenty-three languages. She teaches creative writing at the University of Glasgow, where she also researches the impact of motherhood on women’s writing and creative-writing interventions for mental health.
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