A Summer in Amber

by C. Litka

  Chapter 15: Monday 8 July

  'Good evening, Doctor Mackenzie!' I said, as Nesta turned her bike from the lane to cross the little lawn and stop before me, sitting on my bench.

  'Good evening yourself, Doctor Say,' she replied. 'Care for a ride? I can slip away for an hour or so.'

  'I was rather hoping you'd find the time,' I replied as I rose eagerly to me feet. 'I'll fetch my bike.'

  'Before you get it, here,' she said, handing me a somewhat battered pink watson. 'This is one of mine. From my pre-teen days, I assure you. The number still works within the estate exchange, but not outside of it. We can call each other to arrange our illicit rendezvous without attracting unwanted attention.'

  'Thank you. I'll guard your treasure,' I said, 'It's cute, though I'd hate to be caught dead in a ditch with it... And you were joking about our rides being scandalous, weren't you? I 'd hate to do anything that might, well, give people an excuse to gossip.'

  'Oh, they'll gossip, as you well know. I'm not worried about staff gossip so much as all these cousins of mine about the place. I can't trust Ed, Rob and Jack as far as I can throw them, and Becky and Anne are so flighty, who knows what they'll blurt out. And even Flora might say something if we're together too much. It's hard enough now to put up with Father's constant urging to set a date, without setting him off about seeing you after he's expressly forbidden it in his grand Lord of the Manor manner.'

  I looked surprised. 'Why would Flora say anything? She thinks your father's attitude is ridiculous too.'

  'Remember, they've a shared interest in seeing me married, the sooner the better. Flora was rather upset with me for being out with you the other night. But never mind, Flora I can deal with, it's Father who wears me down.'

  'I should tell you to forget about all this to save you the trouble, but I'm selfish and lonesome, so I'll only say, I'd understand if you'd rather not.'

  'I'm all grown up. Let's get going.'

  We rode beyond the bridge over the Maig River to Minton at an easy pace, before turning back, stopping along the way to talk to some farm hands. Without any effort, we fell into a comfortable balance between talking and silence. She seemed to have no need to fill in the silences, and I was wary of talking, or rather of talking too much, for despite our understanding, I'd not forgotten our first conversation on the bridge. And, truth be told, honorary cousin aside, we were still strangers with little in common to talk about. I rather doubted I'd fascinate her with nano-technology battery design (which I can always fall back on with Penny) and outside of the lab, which has taken a great deal of my life these past several years, I had little of interest to relate. I asked about her weekend with her aunts and cousins and she asked about mine and how my work was progressing. I told her of my plans to visit Glasgow in two weeks to get together with Red Stuart and ride with the University Bicycle Club. She said she'd ridden with them as an undergrad, but hadn't for several years now. Which brought us up to date so we just drifted along silently in the soft solitude of the waning day. I'd done the same thing last week, but I was struck by the quiet difference it made with her riding beside me. If wishes were horses and beggars rode, I'd be riding with Penny, but even so, it was nice not to be alone. She chased away the loneliness and eeriness of my first two weeks just by being beside me. Amazing what a pretty girl can do without doing anything.

  We said our goodbyes on the road rather than by Hidden Garden so she could ride on home alone and I walked my bike down to my cottage.

  Later, I passed the time of day with Guy as he made his rounds, did a little work and called it a day. I realized, as I drifted off to sleep, that it had been a very good day simply because Glen Lonon has finally slipped into focus. I think it was the evening ride with Nesta that finally tipped the balance, because it seemed so ordinary and natural. I was part of it now, if only temporarily.