And with that melancholy observation, they both fell quiet again.
It was nearly an hour's bus ride, and for all that time Ben could not get the image of the old man out of his head. For some reason the hooked nose and the way those beady eyes had stared directly at him put him in mind of the picture of the female hen harrier from Annie's RSPB magazine — a ridiculous notion, he knew, but sometimes when you're scared you look for associations that aren't really there. He was glad when they arrived at the youth hostel as it meant he could focus his mind on something else.
The hostel was a large, grey-stone building, stark and imposing against the twilight sky. It was the only building for as far as the eye could see, which gave it a sinister look; yet it seemed at the same time to welcome them, with the lights beaming out of all the windows. As they lugged their heavy bags through the front door, a young man who seemed nice enough to Ben, if a bit overfriendly, directed them to their respective dormitories — sparse rooms with four sets of bunk beds each and only a couple of other guests occupying them. A quick snack from some of the food they had brought with them, and before long they were asleep in bed.
Tomorrow would be an early start.
Ben was awoken by the gentle vibration of his mobile — Annie, giving him their arranged alarm call. It was still dark outside and it seemed an effort for him to shake off the blanket of sleep, but they had arranged to leave the youth hostel before dawn in order to be out and about when the sun rose, and in a few minutes they were standing outside the hostel warmly dressed against the night-time cold in their outdoor gear. Each of them carried their rucksack on their back, but they were lighter today, filled only with the equipment that would be useful to them on their day's trek.
It felt good to be out of doors as dawn crept across the sky. Here, among the lanes and the fields, Ben felt miles from anywhere and anyone, and as the sky lit up, it made them all the more aware of the vastness of the landscape around them. It seemed impossible that only yesterday they had been in grey, suburban Macclesfield.
As they tramped through the fields, there were few sounds around them other than the noise of their walking boots squelching in the marshy ground. Annie held the ordnance survey map in a protective plastic covering and directed them confidently to the north-west with the aid of a small orienteering compass. 'There's an RAF base in this direction,' she explained quietly to Ben — something about the early-morning light encouraged them to speak in hushed whispers. 'It's called Spadeadam, and it's massive — over nine thousand acres. We can't cross over the boundary, but we can skirt around it. It's a good place for bird-watching.'
Ben raised an eyebrow. 'Really?' he asked mildly. 'I'd have thought it was the last place you'd see them — noisy planes flying overhead and everything.'
Annie shook her head. 'Spadeadam covers huge areas of marshland,' she explained. 'The RAF have to make sure they protect the wildlife around here, so loads of it has been left untouched as a perfect natural habitat. My dad was posted here once, years ago. He told me all about it.'
As they had been speaking, the air had gradually started to become filled with the throng of bird song, as though somebody had slowly been turning the volume up. Ben and Annie stopped still and looked in wonder around them as the empty canopy of air became flecked with the black silhouettes of myriad birds rising up from the marshy land. All their senses seemed to be filled with the sights and sounds of nature, and Ben quickly fumbled in his rucksack for his binoculars while Annie took out a waterproof blanket and spread it on the ground in front of them. They lay down on their fronts like snipers, and feasted their eyes on the display that was acting itself out before them.
Annie was an informative guide, seeming to see things Ben would never have noticed, and able to identify birds by the idiosyncratic swoop of their wings or their distinctive cries. She pointed out peregrine falcons, kestrels, skylarks and various small songbirds, all the while talking in a low, monotone voice that did little to hide her thrill at what she saw. It didn't take long for Ben to become infected with her enthusiasm, and after a while he started recognizing the birds for himself. He could have lain there all day watching them.
As the morning grew brighter, however, the initial frenzy of activity started to subdue and Annie suggested that they start walking, both to warm up a bit, and to continue their hunt for the elusive hen harrier. They packed up their things and moved on.
They hiked towards an area of woodland and skirted around the edge of it for an hour or so. They talked only infrequently, Annie occasionally pointing out something of interest, but otherwise both of them enjoying the peace and the solitude. Eventually, though, they found their path blocked by a fence made from evil-looking barbed wire.
'This must be the boundary to Spadeadam,' Annie observed, looking slightly wistfully over it and into the land beyond. 'We'd better not cross it.'
Ben followed her gaze. 'It just looks like open countryside,' he said. 'If you think we've got a better chance of spotting our bird there I expect there's some way we could get through the fence — if not here then somewhere else.'
Annie gave him a withering look. 'My dad's an air commodore,' she reminded him. 'Bit embarrassing if I'm caught trespassing round here, don't you think?'
'Oh, yeah.' Ben grinned at her. 'I guess you're right. Fancy some breakfast?' He pulled a couple of chocolate bars out of his rucksack and they ate them in silence before continuing their trek by following the perimeter fence westwards.
They spotted the occasional interesting bird throughout the morning, but nothing more than they had seen at dawn, and no sight of the hen harrier. By early afternoon, their feet were getting sore and the rucksacks heavy, so they agreed to turn round and head back to the hostel. On the way, they found themselves chatting to pass the time. 'You've got a real thing about the RAF, haven't you?' Ben asked Annie as he caught her looking over the Spadeadam perimeter yet again.
She smiled. 'You could say that. When I'm old enough, I'm going to join up.'
'Why? I mean, I know because of your dad and everything, but you're the first girl I've met who wants to be in the military.'
Annie didn't answer for a moment, but walked thoughtfully by Ben's side. 'People think being in the army is all guns and fighting, but it's not,' she said finally. 'You get to help people — people who really need it. When my dad was in the Gulf, he found two Iraqi children whose parents had both been put in prison. They were living on the streets. He was able to do something for them, make sure they got a roof over their heads and something to eat.' She flashed a quick grin at him. 'Plus you get all the guns and fighting on top of that.'
Ben laughed, but as he did so Annie suddenly interrupted him. 'Shhh,' she hissed, grabbing him firmly by his arm and using her other hand to point in the air. 'Look!'
Ben followed the direction of her finger. Two birds were flying over Spadeadam in the distance, performing an intricate aerial dance. 'Hen harrier,' Annie whispered; they both fell instinctively to their knees and put the binoculars that had been hanging round their necks up to their eyes. In rapt attention, they watched the birds somersault in the air.
'Look at the male,' Annie whispered. 'He's got something in his talons. Do you see?'
Ben strained his eyes and thought he could just make out what Annie was talking about.
'Yeah,' he said. 'I can.'