A Trick of the Light

by Ali Carter

  ‘Quite right,’ said Jane.

  ‘Can I work separately?’ asked Minty.

  ‘Me too?’ said Giles.

  ‘Of course. No problem, but would you mind going over there a bit?’

  They trundled off as I handed out the colours to everyone else. A hot and cold; red, blue and yellow. Some raw sienna, raw umber, burnt umber, a tiny bit of black and a small blob of titanium white.

  ‘What about green?’ asked Rupert.

  ‘From red, blue and yellow you can make any colour.’

  ‘Really?’ said Felicity, genuinely surprised.

  Louis coughed with disbelief and Felicity, worried he had a tickle, gave him a sensitive pat on the back.

  ‘Yellow and blue make green; red and blue, purple; yellow and red, orange.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Lianne, ‘but what are the other colours for?’

  ‘They’ll lighten and darken the colours you mix. But don’t worry about it right now, I’m going to talk you through step by step.’

  ‘What a relief,’ sighed Rupert.

  ‘Ahhh,’ squealed Lianne, ‘ahhh, ahh, ahh. There, there, there.’ She was pointing down the bank, turning her head away from whatever she’d seen.

  Shane was finding the whole episode very funny.

  ‘Good god,’ shouted Jane. ‘It’s a rat.’

  Everyone other than Minty rushed to take a look.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ said Rupert, peering over the edge.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Giles. ‘That’s not a rat.’

  The thing plopped into the water and out of sight.

  ‘None of you can be sure,’ said Jane, ‘now it’s disappeared.’

  ‘I’m sure,’ stated Giles.

  ‘Lianne?’ I called. She was heading round the side of the hut.

  ‘I’m off to be sick.’

  Shane laughed again.

  ‘No, no,’ said Giles. ‘Honestly, come back, it wasn’t a rat.’

  ‘What was it then?’ Lianne turned around. ‘A water vole.’

  ‘A mole?’ said Rupert.

  ‘A water vole.’

  ‘Silly me,’ he muttered, ‘too much shooting’s made me deaf.’

  ‘We’re very lucky to see one. They’re a protected species these days.’

  ‘Whatever,’ said Shane.

  ‘This one must be lost,’ said Rupert.

  ‘Why?’ I asked.

  ‘They live by slow-moving water. Very odd to find it here.’

  ‘I see. Okay now, back to painting.’

  ‘Great,’ Louis was full of enthusiasm, sounding genuinely pleased we weren’t going to talk about voles any more.

  ‘I’d like you to do a rough drawing of the scene you’ve chosen.’

  ‘With a pencil?’ asked Felicity.

  ‘Yes. Just a quick light sketch, it doesn’t have to be accurate. You’ll have plenty of time to change it when you start painting. Go on, do it now.’

  I stood looking down at the gushing water. Scottish rivers really are beautiful. This one has carved a dramatic channel through the rock and as I took in deep breaths of cold, damp, fresh air I thought, I’m so happy to be away from home. I feel I deserve a break. I finished a commission of two cats last week – beautifully patterned marmalade pussies – and there’s more work in the pipeline when I get home.

  The initial melancholy I’d picked up on at Auchen Laggan Tosh seems to have sunk behind the homeliness of having people fill the rooms. The atmosphere has softened and I’m beginning to enjoy being part of the Muchtons’ life.

  I think Zoe’s enjoying having me around too. She took me aside after lunch and let me in on a family secret. Apparently Ewen often mocks Fergus and she’s worried about how he’ll behave tonight. ‘My husband’s so wet,’ she admitted, ‘he never stands up for himself. He’s full of guilt at having inherited all this.’

  You don’t say, I’d thought at the time. I’ve heard stories of jealous younger siblings causing havoc and if this one has chosen to live on the back drive, hang around and taunt his brother, he’s obviously got a plan up his sleeve – some way of benefiting from his brother’s bounty.

  It’s all beginning to make sense why Louis didn’t let on that Ewen was his friend. But I’m excited about meeting him tonight, being in with a chance of working him out. I bet you he’s charming. Younger siblings often are and if Zoe likes him that says a lot.

  I’m pretty well practised in drawing people out. It comes from painting commissions. One has to get under the skin of the client, understand what makes them tick in order to produce a picture that’ll strike a chord. So, I’ll be all eyes and ears at dinner tonight and here’s hoping I end up sitting next to Ewen.

  Zoe had apologised for opening up. ‘I shouldn’t be so indiscreet about the brothers,’ she’d said, ‘but I don’t often have women of my age around.’ I’d empathised; it must be difficult being an English bride in rural Scotland and no doubt it will take time for Zoe to find friends.

  ‘Susie,’ said Jane, ‘I’m done drawing so I suppose you want me to paint now?’

  ‘No, no. It’s best to do the mixing first. Colours change depending on what colours they’re next to, so it’s much easier to mix them all and line them up. That way you’ll avoid having to remix and reapply.’

  ‘What a top tip,’ said Louis, mocking me from under the peak of his flat cap.

  ‘You’re going to have to tell me how it’s done,’ said Jane, as her arms dropped to her side.

  ‘Start with the lightest colour, the froth. A bit of zinc white and a tiny bit of raw umber. Then the grass, lemon yellow, a tiny bit of cobalt blue and raw sienna. After that, look and see if you need to add anything to burnt umber for the water.’

  ‘But Miss,’ whined Shane, ‘it’s effing freezing.’

  Jane tut-tutted, Louis laughed and Felicity said, ‘It’s not how I would have put it but I do agree.’

  ‘Susie,’ said Rupert, ‘I think we should all stretch our legs, get the blood moving and then come back to this?’

  ‘Okay then, let’s all warm up.’

  ‘Great,’ said Minty, Giles too, and we all took off on a quick short stomp downstream. I fell into step with Rupert who unleashed a jeremiad on having recently ‘got the boot from work’.

  ‘How awful. I’m so sorry for you.’

  ‘It’s a right bugger, Susie. I’ve been a land agent for thirty-five years. To be made redundant in your early sixties is the pits. I have three children still financially dependent on Jules and me, two dogs, I’m part of a shooting syndicate, member of a golf club and would hate to have to give up one of our houses just because we can’t afford it…Now I’m wittering, do tell me to shut up.’

  ‘It’s okay. It sounds tough for you.’

  ‘I signed up for this course hoping it would take my mind off things, and now look, I’m the one bringing them up.’

  ‘SUSIE. RUPERT,’ shouted Lianne. ‘Come, get in the picture.’

  She had everyone in a huddle with a view of the house behind – like an eighteenth-century Dutch landscape.

  ‘I’ve gotta post this. My friends will never believe where I am.’

  ‘You should be in the picture then – here, I’ll take it.’ I stretched my arm out and she handed me her mobile. Then, bouncing towards the group, she stood at the front with her hands on her hips and a smug smile across her face.

  ‘Ready,’ I said, and everyone apart from Louis smiled. It’s not that he looked unhappy, he just didn’t bother to join in.

  ‘Another,’ said Lianne, ‘just to make sure.’

  ‘I think I’ve taken about ten.’ I handed her the mobile and turned to Louis. ‘Don’t like having your photo taken?’

  ‘Why?’ he said as we walked back to the hut.

  ‘You didn’t smile.’

  ‘Ah, well, I don’t look as good when I do.’

  We both grinned.

  ‘Look at you,’ he said, ‘your smile’s so innocent.’

  Miraculousl
y I managed not to go pink. This tutor business has given my self-confidence a boost. I have a role, a part to play and, best of all, I’m in charge. Louis Bouchon is going to have to try a lot harder if he fancies his chances at finding out how innocent I am.

  As soon as we were back at the hut I announced, ‘It’s time to apply the paint,’ and once the beginners had all begun I went to have a look at what Giles and Minty had been up to. From the angle of their easels I presumed they were painting the same scene but the closer I got the fewer similarities I saw.

  I had no idea what Giles was painting. ‘That’s an interesting take,’ I said, hoping he’d explain.

  ‘We have far more impressive trees in the arboretum at home but I thought I’d give that Japanese larch there a go.’ He pointed with his brush towards the other side of the river.

  ‘I see. Doesn’t it look green to you?’

  ‘Yes, but I’m painting this year’s growth.’

  Fortunately, I knew a year’s growth of a conifer is the space between the outshoot of branches, so it was now clear Giles had chosen one particular length of trunk. He’d put a silvery-ochre almost straight line down the centre of his canvas and with a hog hair brush he was now scrubbing Payne’s grey down both sides.

  ‘They’re beautiful trees, aren’t they.’

  ‘Yes, marvellous,’ he said. ‘Everyone loves a larch and that’s why they’re planted in places like this.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Mixed through the wood for aesthetic reasons. They’re deciduous, go a lovely colour in the autumn. Here they make the Scots pine less dense, and do you know a larch grows to maturity in forty years and then stands for a whopping hundred and fifty?’

  ‘Wow, I didn’t know that.’

  ‘Well, it’s pretty great isn’t it, although lots have an awful disease so it’s nice to be able to paint one before it dies.’

  ‘Disease?’

  Minty joined in. ‘It’s terrible. Daddy has such a problem at home.’

  ‘Airborne,’ said Giles. ‘Blown in across the Channel from France. It’s killed almost all Japanese larch in the West Country. We’re jolly lucky it hasn’t reached us in Suffolk yet.’

  ‘It will,’ said Minty, resigned to the fact.

  Her lips were purply blue.

  ‘Are you okay?’ I asked. ‘You do look awfully cold.’

  ‘I’m fine. This isn’t half as brutal as the Boxing Day hunt.’

  ‘Fox-hunting?’ I tried not to sound biased either way.

  ‘Yes, I hunt with the Tynedale in Northumberland.’

  ‘So, you’re used to a rural setting.’

  She gave me a sharp look. I put it down to her drawn features, but then she continued. ‘Well, I don’t live in a village,’ she said.

  It’s not what I meant; she’s the one who thought of villages as deeply infra dig, but I let it pass.

  ‘We live in the middle of nowhere,’ she softened, ‘very like the Highlands in fact.’

  ‘It must have been a long journey from Northumberland to here.’

  ‘We’re in Cumbria, but yes it was. Daddy drove me, which was extremely kind as he has so much on.’

  ‘What does he do?’

  ‘Sits on various boards but this week he’s in the House of Lords. There’s a bill he’s trying to pass before Easter.’

  Steering clear of politics, I asked how she felt her painting was going.

  ‘I’m out of practice. Last term I spent all my spare time playing lax. It’s why Mummy thought it’d be a good idea for me to do this course.’

  ‘Well, you’ve got the perspective of the river spot on and your interpretation of the gorge is great.’

  ‘I’m trying to stop myself using too many colours. I want the light to define the space.’

  ‘It’s really good. You could try using the other end of your brush to put in the cracks on the rocks.’

  ‘Like this?’ Minty scratched lines into her paint.

  ‘Perfect.’

  ‘Thanks, Susie.’

  I could see Fergus with Haggis at heel, in the distance, heading back in this direction. So, leaving everyone be for a bit, forcing them to push on through any doubts they might have, I sped off to join him.

  ‘How’s it all going, Susie? I do hope it’s all right?’ He was as bad as Zoe with his pessimistic questions.

  ‘All right now, but there was a bit of a ruckus at the beginning. Lianne thought she’d seen a rat.’

  ‘A rat?’

  ‘Yes, but Giles said it was a water vole.’

  ‘How strange. They must be coming back. I’ve hardly ever come across one here but I saw a couple downstream as well.’ Fergus thought for a moment and when he said, ‘Hmm, it is the breeding season,’ I guessed he meant that’s why there were more of them around.

  Fergus planted his walking stick into the lush grass and, using it very much as a third leg, we began walking back through the field.

  ‘Did you grow up at Auchen Laggan Tosh?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes, of course. I’ve lived here all my life. Well, in truth I had a base in London while I was in the army but as soon as I married Zoe I left the forces and we were up here in a shot.’

  ‘How long ago?’

  ‘Almost a year. Ma was thrilled to hand over the burden. My father died five years ago and she never enjoyed living here alone.’

  ‘Where does she live now?’

  ‘That’s a whole other story.’ Fergus pulled his cloth cap slightly up off his head. The thought of his mother had made him hot.

  ‘I do hope the weather holds,’ he said, looking up at the sky. ‘I’d like to take you up to the bothy on the moor tomorrow. There’s a wonderful view of heathery hills and a loch to boot.’

  ‘That would be great. You live in such a beautiful place.’

  ‘I’m so pleased you think so too.’

  He stopped (again) to admire his fields and Haggis brushed his head against my welly boot, urging me on. But I bent down to ruffle his ears and took the moment to ask Fergus what animals he farmed here.

  ‘Funny you should bring that up, I was just wondering if we could see any.’ He raised the pair of binoculars around his neck. ‘Here,’ he handed them to me, ‘have a look through these and you’ll see some Highland cows over there, on that distant horizon.’

  ‘So there are. I’ve never seen one in real life.’

  ‘In that case, we must incorporate a trip to them later in the week.’

  Fergus put a hand out for the binoculars and walked on, while Haggis, excited to be on the move, rolled and darted through the stodgy grass.

  ‘Do you have any sheep here?’

  ‘Yes, on the back of the hill. Blackfaces and Bluefaced Leicester, if you’re familiar with them?’

  ‘No, I’m afraid not.’

  ‘Hardy sheep. They’re crossed and bred for meat but thank goodness that’s nothing to do with me. There’s very little money in stock these days.’

  ‘Is the farm tenanted?’

  ‘Yes, Willie owns the animals and pays me grazing rent for the land. Busiest time of year for him right now.’

  ‘Lambing?’

  ‘Yes, but not in the fields near the house. Haggis eats the afterbirth.’ The dog looked back at the mention of his name. ‘Nasty habit. Birds do it too.’

  ‘All birds?’

  ‘Mainly darn ravens; the savages sometimes pick out lambs’ eyes as soon as they’re born and right now we have a particularly mischievous one around.’

  I knew better than to bring up Zoe’s stolen bracelet so instead I asked about the fishing.

  ‘We let all but this beat in front of us.’ He lifted his stick and swept it across a section of the Trickle.

  ‘Do you ever have trouble with poachers?’

  ‘Why do you ask?’ He sounded surprised so I decided to be honest.

  ‘I was there last night when Stuart told Zoe about lights down by the river.’

  ‘Wrong time of year for a poach
er. I don’t know what was going on. I had a good look on my walk downstream and other than water voles,’ he chuckled, ‘I didn’t see anything unusual.’

  Gosh, poor old Fergus, with so much to cope with here I don’t think he has his finger on the pulse of what’s happening. Stuart had sounded very agitated when I saw him crash into the house last night. Perhaps the lights down at the river have something to do with the water voles? Maybe someone’s been doing a bit of guerrilla re-wilding? It is odd them being here. Though I loved seeing one – I grew up on Wind and the Willows, and Ratty was my favourite.

  Fergus pointed his stick into the distance. ‘There are brown trout in hill lochs over there.’

  ‘Which you also let?’

  ‘No, not them. Technically no one “owns” wild trout in Scotland and with the right to roam anyone can fish there.’

  ‘Do they?’

  ‘I’ve never come across a soul. Not many people round here.’

  Ha, no wonder Stuart was in a stew that Donald thought he saw someone last night. I’m beginning to think something fishy’s going on.

  We were back at the hut and Fergus suggested rather loudly that I could drive the minibus home when we were done as he wanted to walk back with Haggis.

  ‘I’ll drive the bus, no problem,’ called out Rupert, and I didn’t object…if he wants to carry the responsibility I’m quite happy to let him.

  ‘Right you are then. See you later.’

  I patted Haggis in the right direction and went to see how everyone was getting on.

  Minty and Giles aside, all the pictures looked more like paint by numbers than anything else. But I was consoled by the fact everyone had something to show for the afternoon.

  ‘I’m in desperate need of a cup of tea,’ exclaimed Jane, waddling towards me in her calf-restricting boots. ‘What do you say we call it a day?’

  ‘Okay.’ I raised my voice. ‘If you’re all happy to stop now, let’s line the pictures up along the benches for a crit.’

  Felicity looked terrified, and Jane refused, saying, ‘No. No. No. No way.’

  ‘Please,’ I begged. ‘You mustn’t be inhibited. Discussing each other’s work is a great way to improve. Honestly, it’s such a useful exercise.’

  ‘That sounds ominous,’ said Rupert, as Shane slapped his board upright against the bench. ‘Go for it, Miss. I’m going to take a video and turn it into a piece of art.’