“Then I would be most grateful if you could tell me…”

The knocking took all their eyes off Elam and over to the corner door. Elam put the old battered book down, accompanied by sighs from the children at his feet, lifting himself out of the armchair. He opened the door, grimacing at the flurry of snow that forced its way into the room, and peered out into the darkness at the snow-covered figure.

“Good evening grandfather” said the figure, tossing its hood back. Elam bustled the girl in, brushing the snow off her shoulders as he did so. “Nila!” cried the youngsters who clambered over each other as they raced to meet her. “We’re hearing Granpa’s stories” Ulek from shouted over the noise. Nila prised the youngest ones off her ankles, hugging them as best she could, and sat down on the floor.

“Which story is it, Grandfather?” she asked. “The secret of the bees” he replied. Nila smiled as she settled down, memories of the story flowing back into her mind from a night by the fire many years ago.