Eventually they hatched and the sitting switched to non-stop airlifts of food and refuse collection. The parents spotted me behind the stack of books in the windowsill that acted as my hide and screamed as they hovered in front of the lead panes.
Each morning I’d take a look until Sunday 10th July, 8 days later, the nest was gone. Outside in the pouring rain, there it was on the stone slabs. One dead on its back, the other two face down in the nest but breathing, parents out of sight.