It rained heavily, and he would hardly fly. The session lasted an hour and Louisa felt crushed. It was one of the only times a falcon had failed her, and even then it seemed more like her own physical deficiency. David apparently perceived this, and promised to tell his friends that Louisa Smedley couldn’t get it up. Much happened in the intervening weeks: the weather cleared, and spring arrived. The smell of cut grass and cold stone spiked the air, and birthing sheep lay prostrate and helpless. The hawking season drew towards its close, and for once, Louisa did not feel like locking herself in the moulting shed for six months. The Bryant household was tense in February 1975. The previous year, Leicestershire, along with much of the region, had swung back to Labour. There was talk of change at local level, and Lawrence Bryant, fearing for his job, came down with what he called ‘flu’. Until his early twenties, David believed that the symptoms of influenza were blocked sinuses, moodswings and acute paranoia.
