Part 3 (1/2)
There was a shocked silence. Oh dear, thought Heather, I should never have tried to cope with them alone. That dreadful woman. She keeps saying things which sound innocuous to me but which seem terribly barbed to the person they're directed against. She's got that mottled red about the neck which usually means high blood pressure. I wish she would drop dead.
”And now,” said Heather out loud, amazed to hear how shaky her own voice sounded, ”I will pa.s.s round some pieces of string and teach you how to tie a figure of eight.”
To Heather's relief, her husband came into the room. ”We're running a bit late,” he said: ”Better get them started. We'll issue them with rods again, that is, the ones who want to rent stuff -1 think only the major has brought his own-and then we'll get them off to the Upper Alsh and Loch Alsh.”
Alice pulled on her waders in her room and checked she had everything tucked away in the pockets of her green fowling coat-scissors, a needle (for poking out the eyes of flies-artificial ones, she had been glad to find out-and for undoing knots), and a penknife. She placed her fis.h.i.+ng hat on her head and made her way back downstairs, hoping the other guests thought she was a seasoned fisherwoman.
In the car park, John was pa.s.sing out maps, explaining that Loch Alsh was some distance away. Water dripped from his hat on to his nose. Rain thudded down on the car park. ”At least it will keep the flies away,” he said. ”Now, let me see-Jeremy, you'll take Daphne.” Alice had a sinking feeling in her stomach as John went on to say she was to come along with himself and Heather and young Charlie Baxter. Alice felt Lady Jane's eyes on her face and angrily jerked her already sodden hat down on her forehead.
The journey seemed endless. The mountains were blotted out by the mist. The windscreen wipers clicked monotonously back and forth. Alice looked at Charlie. He was hunched in the far corner. Alice did not know what one talked to children about. ”Enjoying yourself?” she asked at last.
The child's hard, a.s.sessing gaze was fixed on her face. ”No,” he said at last. ”I hate that ugly fat woman. She's cruel and mean and evil. Why doesn't she die? Lots of people die in the Highlands. They get lost and starve and die of exposure. They fall off cliffs. Why can't something happen to her her?”
”Now, now,” said Alice reprovingly. ”Mustn't talk like that.”
There was a long silence, then, ”You're very silly, you know,” said the child in a conversational tone of voice.
Alice coloured up. ”Don't be impertinent.”
”You were being impertinent,” said the maddening Charlie. ”Anyway, you hate her just as much as I do.” were being impertinent,” said the maddening Charlie. ”Anyway, you hate her just as much as I do.”
”If you mean Lady Jane, she is is very trying,” said Heather over one plump shoulder. ”But her faults seem worse because we're such a small group. You wouldn't notice her much in a crowd.” very trying,” said Heather over one plump shoulder. ”But her faults seem worse because we're such a small group. You wouldn't notice her much in a crowd.”
”I would,” said Charlie, putting an effective end to that bit of conversation. would,” said Charlie, putting an effective end to that bit of conversation.
Alice began to feel carsick. The big estate car swayed on the slick macadam surface of the road and cruised up and down over the many rises and b.u.mps.
At last the car veered sharply left and lurched even more over a dirt track where clumps of heather sc.r.a.ped the side of the car.
When Alice was just about ready to scream that she was about to be sick, they lurched to a halt.
She climbed out, feeling stiff and cold.
A rain-pocked loch stretched out in front of her and vanished into the mist. All was still and silent except for the constant drumming of the rain. Heather and John began to unload the rods as the others drove up.
”Now, who wants to row the boat?”
”Me!” cried Charlie, showing rare animation.
”Then you can be my ghillie,” said Lady Jane, a ghillie being a Highland servant. ”Too many bushes around here. I'd be better in the middle of the loch.”
”With a stone around your fat neck,” muttered Amy Roth. She caught Alice staring at her and blushed like a schoolgirl. ”She's such a lady,” thought Alice, amused. ”I bet she feels like fainting any time she says 'd.a.m.n'.”
Heather hesitated. Charlie was looking horrified at the idea of rowing Lady Jane. On the other hand, Charlie seemed to be the one member of the party that Lady Jane had so far not managed to intimidate. And he could be rescued after an hour.
”Very well,” said Heather. ”The Roths and the major can go with John further up the loch and fish the river. We should get good brown trout or small salmon so you will only need light rods.”
”What about me?” asked Alice.
”You come with me and I'll start you off,” said Heather. ”Jeremy, you go along to the left and Daphne to the right. Keep moving now. We'll only fish for a little bit and then we'll meet back here in two hours' time.”
Alice kept looking hopefully in Jeremy's direction while they a.s.sembled their rods. Daphne had caught her fly in her jacket, and Jeremy was laughing and joking as he wiggled it free for her.
Alice s.h.i.+vered. The rain had found its way inside her collar.
”Come along,” said Heather. ”No, don't carry your rod like that, Alice. You'll either spear someone or get it caught in a bush.”
Jeremy waded off into the loch, and Alice watched him go until he was swallowed up in the mist. Lady Jane's petulant voice sounded over the water, ”Can't you row a little harder?” Poor Charlie.
Alice waded along the shallows after Heather. ”Just here, I think,” said Heather. ”Try casting here.”
Wet and miserable, Alice jerked her rod back and caught the bush behind her. ”No, like this,” said Heather patiently, after she had extricated Alice's hook. She took Alice's arm in a firm grasp and cast the fly so neatly that it landed on the water without a ripple. ”Good,” murmured Heather. ”Now again. And again.”
Alice's arm began to ache. She cursed and stumbled and slipped on the slippery boulders in the water beneath her feet. ”I'll try a little bit further on,” said Heather placidly. ”You're doing just grand. Remember to stop the rod at the twelve o'clock position. The loch's quite shallow for a good bit, so if you move slowly out from the sh.o.r.e, you might get a bite and then you don't have the risk of getting your hook caught in the bushes.”
Why don't I just say I'll never learn how to fish and I don't care, thought Alice wretchedly. Jeremy's not interested in me. I don't belong here. But somehow she found herself wading slowly out into the loch, casting as she went.
Then the line went taut.
Alice's heart leapt into her mouth.
It was probably a rock or a bit of weed. She began to reel in, feeling with growing excitement the tugs and s.h.i.+vers on the line. A trout leapt in the air at the end of the line and dived.
”Help!” screamed Alice, red with excitement. Would Heather never come? What if she lost it? She could not bear bear to lose it. Seized with a fever almost as old as the hills around her, Alice reeled in her line. to lose it. Seized with a fever almost as old as the hills around her, Alice reeled in her line.
”That's it,” said Heather quietly, appearing suddenly at Alice's side. ”Get your net ready.”.
”Net. Yes, net,” said Alice, scrabbling wildly about and dropping her rod in the water. Heather bent down and seized the rod.
”Get the net ready,” said Heather again. Alice wanted to s.n.a.t.c.h the rod back but was afraid of losing the fish. Forward it came, turning and glistening in the water. Alice scooped the net under it and lifted it up, watching the fish with a mixture of exultation and pity.
”Quite a big one,” said Heather. ”Three pounds, I should think. It'll make a good breakfast.” She led the way to the sh.o.r.e after removing the hook from the trout's mouth.
”Can't you kill it?” asked Alice, looking at the panting, struggling fish. ”Oh yes,” said Heather, slowly picking up a rock. All her movements were slow and sure. ”We'll just put it out of its misery.”
How abhorrent the idea of killing things seemed in London, thought Alice, and how natural it seemed in this savage landscape. Heather slid the trout into a plastic bag. ”Put that in your fis.h.i.+ng bag,” she said to Alice. ”It's about time for lunch. I think I hear the others returning.”
Alice was the only one who had caught anything and received lavish praise from everyone but Lady Jane and Charlie Baxter. The child looked exhausted, and Heather was fussing over him, helping him into the front seat of the car and pouring him hot tea.
”You're a marvel, Alice,” said Jeremy. ”Did you really catch that brute all by yourself?”
”Yes, did you really really?” asked Lady Jane.
Alice hesitated only for a moment. Heather was a little bit away, hopefully out of earshot. ”Yes,” said Alice loudly. ”Yes, I did.”
”I'd better keep close to you this afternoon,” grinned Jeremy. ”Seems you have all the luck.”
Alice's pleasure was a little dimmed by, first, the lie she had told, which she was now sure Heather had overheard, and, second, by the fact that Jeremy and Daphne were to share a cozy lunch in his car while she herself was relegated to the back of the Cartwrights' estate car.
Lunch tasted rather nasty. Great slabs of pate, cold and heavy, and dry yellow cake and boiled eggs. But the fis.h.i.+ng fever had Alice in its grip, and she could hardly wait to try her luck again. Somehow, Alice felt, if she managed to catch another fish all on her own then the lie would be forgiven by the G.o.ds above. For the first few moments after they climbed from the cars again, it looked as if the day's fis.h.i.+ng might have to be cancelled. A wind had risen and was driving great buffets of rain into their faces.