A Summer in Amber

by C. Litka

  Chapter 16: Thursday 11 July

  01

  I was up early and off to market on Tuesday and was putting away my groceries mid-morning when I heard a little tune float through the cottage. Very strange, I thought, puzzled. But when it came around again, I realized that it was the pink watson on the desk ringing.

  'Hello Nesta,' I said stepping over to answer it.

  'Good morning, Say.' she said. 'I called earlier, but you must have been out. Or sleeping.'

  'I'll have you know, I've been to the Strayfeller market and back already today.'

  'Ah, yes. I forgot food doesn't just appear in the dining room three times a day in the Groom's Cottage. So what would you say if I provided lunch today?'

  'I'd say great.'

  'Everyone, but me, of course, has gone to Inverness to spend the day shopping. I thought I'd tear you away from work for a lunch on the Lonon since it's such a fine day.'

  'Sounds delightful. I just brought back some nice crusty rolls and two new cheeses. I have beer and ginger beer as well...'

  'No need. Lunch will be provided by the staff of Glen Lonon. I'll be around shortly and we can ride out to my favourite picnic spot. It's rather rocky and rough, so don't wear good clothes.'

  'I'll be waiting,' I promised.

  I was sitting on the bench in the shade of the cottage when Willie and Watt bounded up to greet me, followed by Nesta on her bike, luncheon basket and picnic blanket strapped to the back rack.

  'It's going to be a foursome,' she laughed. 'They seem to have a direct line to the kitchen and they'll follow food anywhere.'

  'They're welcome to tag along as far as I'm concerned, we're all old friends, aren't we guys?' I added scratching their ears.

  We rode past the stables and across the horse paddock to the dusty road that ran along the cottages of Little Lonon and then over a narrow rusty bridge and up along the river for less than a half kilometre, the dogs leading the way. We abandoned our bikes by the road, and carried the picnic basket and a blanket down a narrow path through the grass and bracken into the thin stand of pines and birch trees bordering the rocky ravine that river tumbles through at this point. We climbed carefully down between the rocks to a wide, mossy ledge above the river. It was cool and damp in the shade, but warm in the sun. Spreading the blanket and setting the picnic basket on narrow ledge out of reach of the dogs, just in case, we set out to explore the little river canyon with the dogs in tow. Nesta was cheerful and very talkative, for her, and we ended up sitting on a rock and cooling our feet in the clear, rushing Lonon until we realized we were starving. The dogs, who'd grown bored and wandered off, where back guarding the picnic basket, patiently waiting for their fair share of what it held. We lunched on a lavish spread of chicken, cheeses, breads, biscuits and a bottle of wine in the shady half of the ledge as the afternoon had grown quite warm.

  'In a hurry to return to work?' she asked as we packed up the remains of lunch.

  'No hurry at all. I've built up quite a backlog of hours, so the afternoon is ours as far as I'm concerned.'

  'Good, I don't feel like moving,' she laughed, and so we sat back against the cool rocks and talked of this and that.

  'How did you decide to become a doctor?' I asked. 'It strikes me as a little out of character for a shy bookworm.'

  'You find me shy?'

  I laughed. 'Well, a bookworm anyway, at least by your account.'

  'It's being a bookworm that first sparked my interest in becoming a doctor. I was a fan of the Sherlock Holmes stories, and fascinated by the idea that one could, by close observation and deduction, discover all sorts of things about people and anything, for that matter. Science, but by pure observation and deduction rather than experimentation. And when I learned that the character of Sherlock Holmes was based on a real doctor, a Scottish medical lecturer at the University of Edinburgh, one Doctor Joseph Bell, I decided that's what I wanted to be too.'

  'Good grief, a young Sherlock Holmes! You must know far more about me that I ever realized!' I exclaimed with a laugh, adding, 'Not that there is much to know. I've spent most of my life – maybe too much of it – studying and messing around in a lab.'

  'Ah, yes. I deducted that from the “Ph.D.” behind your name,' she replied airily. 'However, I'm only beginning to develop the habit of close observation and deduction and solely for the purpose of medical diagnoses, though, of course, those observations can say a lot about other aspects of the patient's life...' And then added as an aside, 'I wouldn't be here with you if I hadn't observed you close enough to feel comfortable that I could be.'

  'I'd like to believe your observations and deductions are spot on with me. I hope so, anyway. But, as I mentioned the other night, it would make me nervous if you trusted them completely. I rather think some people can hide behind masks that might defy the closest observation.'

  She shrugged. 'Well, I use intuition as well. And I've no intention of relying solely on observation in my life outside my practice, so you needn't worry...'

  We talked more about her studies at the uni and eventually found ourselves talking about Renny Lonsdale. I told her about some of Lonsdale's exploits at the university – she knew many of them, but was interested in an outsider's view. He had many, and seemed, with his father's money and influence, to be able to get away with most anything. Some, I didn't care to share with her, but there were plenty I could.

  She reciprocated by telling a few of his exploits during his summers at Lonon Glen, adding, 'Just in case you ever need to blackmail him.'

  'Well it's possible that some day he, and well, you too, may be my employer, so you might want to consider what you care to reveal. Things I could use when negotiating my salary.'

  'Oh, I think I'll take that chance,' she replied, lightly. 'Between Father and Flora and the fact that blackmailers tend to end up on the sticky end, I feel pretty safe.'

  After a while conversation petered out and she brought out her watson and asked if I minded that she read awhile before heading back. 'Not at all,' I said, adding, 'I've messages and info-sites to read as well.'

  In the end, we spent several hours, quietly reading, and then, dozing in the cool shade and subtle laughter of the river over the rocks. We both started awake when someone snored and agreed to blame Watt. It was, however the signal to break camp. She wanted to be home before the shoppers returned.

  Stopping outside the Groom's cottage, she said, 'I doubt that I'll be able to get out for a ride today. I'm sure we'll eat late and have a lot to talk about. Hopefully I'll be able to get a little fishing in late. Should I call?'

  'Please. I'll get to work now, and be ready whenever you give me a ring. And thanks for inviting me for a picnic. I'd a wonderful time.'

  'It has been pleasant. We'll do it again when I can get away,' adding with a smile, 'If your work allows.'

  'My work will always allow spending time with you,' I replied, adding a rather hasty explanation, 'I can work late or early, so it's never a problem.'

  She smiled. 'Good. I'll talk to you later,' she said pushing off and rode on up the lane with the dogs racing ahead.

  02

  She called after nine to ask if I still wanted to fish. I said 'Yes, of course.'

  'I'm not going to have a peanut gallery watching me fish,' she said when she turned up with hip boots. 'Hope these'll fit, they should be big enough. I'll find better ones’ tomorrow if you'll tell me your shoe size. We've heaps of gear lying about the place. Those fly rods on the wall are fully functional so pick one, and let's go,' she said, with a bit of her father in her manner.

  I didn't argue. I selected one of the rods, grabbed my slouch hat, and followed her and the milling dogs down to the river.

  She picked a spot on the river bank downstream from her own. 'This will be your beat,' she said and pointed out some spots where fish were to be found as I swapped my shoes for the rather roomy hip boots.

  'Can you still tie a fly on the line?' she asked as I pulled on the boots.


  'I believe so. Though it's been several years now, and it wasn't one of my greatest accomplishments. As I said, fly fishing, taken as a whole, was not one of my shining accomplishments.'

  'Never mind, I'll do it tonight. You can practice tomorrow,' she said, choosing a fly and after slipping on the leader, tied it.

  Equipped with my borrowed rod I waded into the cool waters of the Lonon, stepping carefully as not to end up in the drink – something I suspect Nesta was rather hoping for. When I was knee deep in the water and in a spot that I could cast without catching any trees, she began instructing me on just were to place my fly and how to let it drift – 'no, no, not there, further upstream.' After a few minutes, I told her to scram. 'Go fish, Nesta. Let me get the hang of this again – without a peanut gallery.'

  She grinned and left with the dogs. We fished until night all but settled in. Nesta took fishing pretty seriously, so I decided I'd best take it seriously as well if I wanted to remain in her good graces, so I spent my time on the water recalling and practising the movement and rhythm of casting. Hooking and landing a fish would have been a distraction, which I effortlessly avoided.

  'Did you have fun?' she asked as we walked back across the paddock.

  'I did. You can count me in when you want company,' I replied, adding, 'And I intend to get better.'

  03

  She had clinic on Wednesday, but she called after supper for a bike ride, and we then fished until dark.

  Thursday was a showery day, too rainy for a bike ride. However, it subsided to a fine mist later in the evening and Nesta called – she was going fishing, and wondered if I cared to join her. I said, 'Yes, of course, I'll meet you at the paddock gate. I've been reading some of the fly fishing books and magazines lying about the cottage, and practising tying knots as well in my free time.'

  Grand. Now all you have to do is catch some fish.'

  'One thing at a time,' I replied. 'See you shortly.'

  We fished until twilight faded to night. I'd several strikes but they managed to escape before I could net them, not that I minded, since it saved me the trouble of unhooking them...

  And so it seems the pattern of my days have been re-set again. I spend it working on the project until supper and then, weather permitting, Nesta and I go for a ride up the Maig Glen and afterwards fish until it got too dark to see the fly on the shimmering twilit water. Not a bad life, I find. Not bad at all.