Free trip to Southend. Auntie needed Uncle to fit a new shower. Did I want to come with? Yes, I said. Their house was a living, working museum of my childhood and admission was free. I would make the sandwiches for the drive. I needed a book for the return trip. I would stay longer than Uncle and I wanted to stop off in London on the way back. I booked a casual date with Oxfam. I walked in and the hawk on the cover looked at me. H is for Hawk by Helen McDonald. I’d heard great things about it, but non-fiction? Could I do this after several uninspired attempts at getting back into fiction? Perhaps non-fiction is the antidote. The hawk on the cover continued to look at me as it perched stock-still on its Perspex stand. Do I want you, I thought. Do I need your heaviness in my bag? Are you worth carrying across London during the tube strike? Yes, the hawk said. ...