‘It’s lucky we’re here early in the year,’ Diana said. ‘Once the trees are all fully in leaf it must be impossible to see anything.’
‘Hence the feeding stations, I suppose,’ Callis said. ‘It’s probably as much about keeping us punters happy with a chance of spotting the wildlife as about feeding them.’
‘Is that right?’ Frances asked.
Diana looked at John. ‘Bit o’ both,’ he said.
He slowed the car to a crawl as they approached the next bend and glided down towards a clearing, the motor ticking along, almost silent. He pointed left. ‘There.’
In the shadows under a group of aspens, a brown form was head-down in a clump of wild garlic, front legs scraping up soil, snout rootling and licking.
‘And a cub,’ said John, rolling the car forward a couple of metres so they could see the little bundle snuffling in turned-over soil just beyond its mother. The telephoto lenses span, telescoping and sighting.
Callis put down her camera. The bear lifted her head and scanned, snout up. The cub tumbled towards her and tried to push under her body to suckle. Callis gazed, her throat choking, her eyes blurring over. The bear turned and pushed her cub away deeper into the cover of trees.
Callis took a deep breath and swallowed.
‘I barely got them in focus and they were gone,’ said Diana.
‘But we saw them,’ said Frances, jubilant. ‘And according to Luke that means we’re very lucky. Isn’t that right, John?’
‘Aye. They’re shy. What now?’
‘You’re the guide,’ said Diana. ‘Take us wherever you think we might get some more wildlife.’
Callis said nothing. She felt as if she was tearing apart, as if she was splitting down the centre of her ribcage. She kept her face calm but inside she burned. Had the killing of the bear in Norway got to her that badly? She fought the urge to get out of the car and follow the bears into the woods. She had to bring bears back, it was as simple as that. She had no idea how, or even what the first step might be, but she had to do something to stop this gutted feeling. She breathed deeply until she felt herself relax again.
They drove on up into the hills, where the trees were less dense, keeping all eyes trained. A golden eagle soared above, against a spectacular backdrop of white water gushing down a bouldery slope. Low-angled sunshine underlit a bank of slate grey clouds. A group of stags struck Glen-monarch poses on the skyline. The women joked about shortbread tins and took the photos anyway. No lynx or wolves deigned to show themselves but the three photographers were well satisfied with their sightings.
At 8.30 John suggested a return to Fenwick for breakfast.
‘My tummy’s grumbling,’ Frances said.
They all concurred.
Just before they reached the reserve gate, a female wild boar emerged from a tangle of last year’s bracken and young birches on one side of the road. John stopped. Apparently oblivious to the vehicle, the sow trotted across the road, followed by five piglets, tails twirling like a procession of wind-up toys. They scuttled after their mother, vanishing into the vegetation on the other side of the track.
Diana was triumphant in the front seat, where she had had an unimpeded view out of the windscreen. She flicked through her shots, laughing at the perfect images of the pigs she had captured for posterity.
They drove back to Fenwick in high spirits. ‘Good trip,’ said Callis. ‘I’m so glad we saw a bear.’
‘Yes, I guess,’ said Diana.
‘My first ever,’ said Frances. ‘In the wild.’
‘This isn’t wild,’ Callis snapped.
‘Yeah, sorry, but you know what I mean. It seems pretty wild here. Have you seen them before?’
‘Mm-hm. In Finland, and in Sweden a few times now. And I finally got a sighting in Norway, a few weeks back, which is rare.’ She nearly said, ‘That was a mother and cub, too,’ but instead said, ‘I just love them.’ She wasn’t sure why she needed to keep quiet about that moment in the snow and the other mother and cub. She remembered how she had felt so much more alive than she did now, as if she could be a different person, out there in the forest. It was nothing like this, trapped in a vehicle, the bears confined behind a fence.
‘It’s cats do it for me,’ said Frances.
Callis fell quiet, cradling the image in her mind of the bear cub nudging its mother’s snout. She didn’t care that her photograph was blurred.
‘What are you dreaming about?’ Frances elbowed Callis gently on the arm.
‘I was thinking about the bear, and wouldn’t it be great if they really were wild.’
‘I doubt your farmer would be very keen on that!’ Frances laughed.
Diana turned round from the front seat. ‘Your farmer, is he now? So you had your wicked way and left him panting?’
Callis felt her hackles rising. ‘It wasn’t like that.’
‘I suppose he was a fair enough piece of meat. Was he any good in bed?’
‘Diana, you’re outrageous,’ said Frances.
‘No, come on, I want to know.’
‘To be honest, I was so pissed it’s all a bit of a blur,’ Callis tried to laugh.
‘Oh Callis, for goodness sake, how old are you?’
Callis bristled, but said nothing.
‘You can actually remember whether or not you had sex with him, I take it?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘And?’
Callis felt something snap inside her, as if a bolt slid open. ‘What’s with the inquisition? We did, and it was great.’
Diana raised her eyebrows, but before her sarcastic comment could come, Callis, suddenly intrepid, continued, ‘And I’m looking forward to the next time.’
Diana swivelled back round to the front, but not before Callis had seen her eyes widen into a glare. There was a pause. The engine hummed. John turned the car into the drive of Fenwick House.
Frances giggled. ‘Naughty Callis, you know we’re not allowed back for seconds.’
Callis sighed. ‘Maybe I’m growing up.’
‘And what is that supposed to mean?’ Diana didn’t turn round but the voice from the front made clear that her jaw was set and the issue was not likely to be dropped.
Juliana was there to welcome them back into the house and usher them into the dining room where the other women were already eating. She handed them a list of options and they all chose the hearty breakfast, then helped themselves to fruit and yoghurt from the lavish buffet. A couple of the other guests questioned them about their sightings, but at the first break in the conversation, Diana leaned in to Callis.
‘You are joking about this farmer, right?’
Callis pulled at her hair. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I mean… I don’t know.’
Diana’s chin jutted forward and her eyes narrowed. ‘We have a pact.’
‘I know.’ Callis couldn’t hold Diana’s gaze.
‘So you were joking.’
Callis looked past Diana and her eyes rested on a large gilt-framed painting. A man on a horse reached down with his hand outstretched, tenderly, to a woman standing just out of arm’s reach, her back turned. She allowed herself to remember the feeling of Malcolm’s hug. ‘No, I wasn’t,’ she said. ‘I’d like to see him again.’
‘But you know where that leads. The pact – it’s not just an idle promise, it’s values. Independence, freedom, remember? Shackling yourself to a man is completely inconsistent with that.’
Callis took a gulp of tea. Their breakfast arrived and they ate in silence, cutlery rattling against plates. Callis chewed and swallowed, drank more tea, steadying herself.
‘I’ve been thinking about my mum and dad. Seeing my dad at the funeral. Seeing all that… well, all that love. Love. That’s another value too, like freedom.’
‘Love.’ Diana spoke the word as if it tasted foul in her mouth. ‘What will you want next? Chivalry? Honour? This isn’t the Victorian era.’ She looked round at the painting. ‘This house must be getting to you.
You’ll be embroidering samplers and coats of arms before we know it.’
Frances was laughing along. ‘It’s just a crush, Callis, and you know what to do with them.’
‘Crush them!’ She and Diana high-fived.
Callis looked at her plate, not smiling. She speared a mushroom with her fork. ‘I’m not saying I’m in love,’ she said. ‘I’m just saying that if I was, that might not be a bad thing.’
‘Love is a fool’s dream,’ Diana snapped.
‘You know it is, really,’ said Frances.
Callis looked at her. ‘I don’t know what I know anymore.’
Diana gripped Callis by the forearm and Callis tried to shake her off. ‘Let go of me.’
Diana’s grip hardened. ‘If women in the rich countries of the world do not assert their independence, what hope is there for the freedom of women in Africa, in Muslim countries?’
‘Oh for crying out loud.’ Callis tugged her hand loose, her knife clattering on to the plate. She shoved her chair back, eyes smarting, and half-ran out of the room, the first tears unloosing before she reached the door. Juliana was about to make another entrance as Callis barged past, breaking into a sobbing run as she hit the stairs, and not slowing down until her bedroom door closed behind her. She sat on her bed and pulled a hankie out of her pocket.
‘Fucking bitch.’
By the time a tentative knock came on the door, the tear storm was over. Callis opened up to Juliana, who was holding a small tray.
‘I thought you might like a cup of tea.’
Callis gave her a watery smile and took the cup, backing into the room, and sitting down on the bed. Juliana closed the door behind her and leaned on it.
‘Is there anything I can do?’
Callis shook her head, then sipped. The cup jittered back on to the saucer. She looked studiously at the pastel-blue wall to Juliana’s left, thinking it was almost the same shade as her bedroom in Trondheim, and realising it was a little too baby blue for comfort.
‘Men?’ Juliana said.
Callis shook her head. ‘Kind of. Actually, the man is fine. It’s my so-called friends.’
‘I’m not prying. I just want everyone to have a nice time here.’
‘I’ve broken our pact of spinsterism.’ Callis wondered if she should feel guilty at this disloyalty.
‘Spinsterism?’
‘Since university we’ve been part of a group called Fe-Phi-Pho and we basically vowed not to get into relationships with men, to remain free and independent.’
‘It sounds just like Diana’s warrior maidens in the Greek myth. Did you know Callisto was one of them? I guess with your name you must know all about it.’
Callis stared at Juliana. ‘I don’t often meet people who know the story.’
Juliana stroked her hair. ‘I read classics at university, though I have to admit I looked it up in Ovid last night after your name rang a bell. It’s a fascinating story.’
‘A classic tale of a woman who is raped and gets the blame. Though I always quite fancied being turned into a bear.’
Juliana smiled at her, as if humouring a child. ‘It’s just such a funny coincidence that you’re in a group with Diana, and now you say you’re all virgins!’
Callis shook her head. ‘We’re not that extreme. We haven’t got anything against men per se, we’re not against sex, far from it, one-night stands are very much allowed, but I’m, well, I don’t seem to be willing to keep to the rule about not going back for more.’
‘I see. The god tempts you back. And is he worth it?’
Callis looked down at her teacup. ‘I don’t know for sure. I hope so.’
‘What does this god do for a living?’
‘He’s hardly a god. He’s a foreman or something, on a farm. It’s not far from here. Long something.’ It was a relief to speak about it. She had another sup of tea.
‘Longworth?’ Juliana’s voice was quiet.
‘Aye, that rings a bell. But he doesn’t really act like a farmer. He drives a Jaguar, for one thing. That’s not exactly Old Mac-Donald, is it?’
Juliana shuffled as if she were getting bored, or restless. ‘Mmm.’
Callis glanced up at her. ‘You probably know him,’ she said, not sure if she wanted anyone else in the world to know him.
Juliana was looking out of the window. ‘Longworth is certainly part of the estate,’ she said. Her air of friendly confidante had dissipated. ‘Anyway, we’ll be making a start soon, if you want to join us. When you’re ready.’ She turned. ‘I’ll leave you to it.’
She snapped the door behind her as she left and Callis heard her stride off down the corridor. The fire door banged. The cup trembled as Callis finished her tea.
There was little conversation between the three friends for the rest of the day. Diana and Frances took over a table and spread their polar bear and lynx fabrics out so much that there wasn’t enough room left for Callis to share. She sat on her own and during breaks made a point of chatting with some of the other course participants, or going back to her room. The rest of the time she concentrated on sewing the seams of her bear, ignoring the glances from Diana and Frances. She slipped away early to bed after dinner.
When Callis came down for breakfast, Diana and Frances had gone out for an early morning walk, Juliana said. She sat next to an older woman from Pitlochry, who stroked the empty shell of her velvet bear and probed Callis in a gentle manner for an explanation of her evident discomfort. It was a relief to have someone to talk to about her mother, but when she felt the grief rising she changed topic, then excused herself.
‘I’ll try to finish my bear quite soon,’ she said to Juliana, ‘and if you don’t mind, I’ll leave early, once I’m done. It would be good to get back to my father.’
‘That’s fine.’ Two figures walked past the window. ‘Here are your friends now, I’d better get the stuffing and decorating materials ready.’ She strode off to the conservatory.
Diana and Frances’ laughter pealed from the grand hall. Callis tried to make a dash for the back staircase but Diana caught her coming out of the dining room.
‘Morning Cally, can I have a word?’
Frances set off up the stairs. ‘See you later, I’m off for a shower.’
Diana led Callis to the front porch, an elegant glass-roofed room with a stone slab floor and cushioned bench seats beneath ledges of fading hyacinths and newly potted geraniums, not yet in flower. They sat opposite each other. Callis rubbed her bear on her knee, sensing that an interrogation was about to begin, but to her surprise Diana started with an apology. Callis wasn’t aware of ever having seen her shame-faced before, but that was how she appeared, her hands clasped in a pleading gesture in her lap, neck bent.
‘I’m sorry I’ve not been at all sensitive or understanding this weekend. It must be awful for you at the moment. You must be missing your mother, I imagine, although I can’t really. It must be dreadful.’
‘Yeah. It’s OK,’ said Callis, ‘I’m sorry I’m not very good company.’
‘I’m serious, it’s me that’s the one to be sorry. It’s not surprising you’re a bit withdrawn. I should have been making more of an effort.’
Callis looked at the downcast figure opposite her. ‘Thanks. I appreciate it. It is a bit tough.’ She wanted off this topic. ‘Time to stuff my bear.’
She started to get to her feet but Diana leaned over and pressed a hand on one leg to encourage her to sit back down.
‘One other thing,’ she said. ‘About your farmer.’
Callis was interested. Another climbdown?
‘Frances and I have talked about it and we agree that it’s really important, and especially just now, while you’re grieving. We can see that love and all that, goodness knows even marriage, might look different in such circumstances. And especially as you’ve known him since childhood, that must be… comforting?’ She paused.
‘Is there a “but” coming?’ Callis had been listening for some tone that would
stop her feeling she was on the edge of a steep bank of a fast-flowing river.
‘Well yes, kind of.’ Diana put her hands on the bench beside her and looked Callis straight in the eye. It was her greatest weapon, that direct gaze. It had won her every achievement of her life. ‘It’s precisely now, when you’re off guard, that you need to be most vigilant, if that’s not a contradiction. If you’re not careful, in this moment of weakness you could get yourself embroiled in something that you’d never give in to in your right mind. So we’re offering to be your protectors, if you like.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘Well, if you get any urges to see him again or anything, you can call us and we’ll remind you why that’s a bad idea.’
‘Well, I won’t need that, I’m off to Norway again in a few days. And my urges are my own business, anyway.’
‘Oh Callis, you’re exasperating. Think of all the things you can do: travel the world, run your own life, give as much or as little to your career, be as creative as you like, manage your own time. All that’s completely hamstrung if you’ve got to take some other person into consideration all the time, especially a man, and before you know it, children would beckon and that’s twenty years of your life, minimum, to the dogs.’
‘But it’s nothing like that. We’ve had one date. I’m not remotely contemplating any of that.’
‘Not yet, maybe. But we all know where these things start, hence the pact. We can see the danger signs, Cally, that’s all we’re saying. Don’t go there.’
Callis rubbed her head. ‘I’m not going there.’
‘Fine, so we’re agreed.’
‘No. Well… No. I’m not sure I want to be protected. That makes me feel… It’s as if you’re saying I’m unreliable. Not able to make my own decisions.’
‘It’s understandable.’ She reached for Callis’ bear, as if to stroke it, and Callis snatched it away. ‘You’re not thinking straight.’
‘I’m sad, not deranged, you know. I may be on an emotional roller coaster. I am. But I’m not irrational. If anything I’m seeing things more clearly than for ages.’
‘That’s all part of it, trust us.’
‘You’re not listening, are you?’
Bear Witness Page 5
