I suppose I looked as astonished as I felt, for he said defensively that I had made The Way sound very attractive, that he had some extra poundage of which he was determined to rid himself and that a man needed to commune with Nature from time to time if he wanted to retain possession of his immortal soul.
‘So what’s the real reason?’ I asked. He laughed.
‘You disbelieving old so-and-so!’ he said; but he offered no answer to the question.
When I told Hera, she said, ‘We’ve whetted his curiosity, that’s all. What a pity I’ve got to be in Paris next week. I could have come and helped you in the office. If it weren’t for Sandy, you would take me into partnership, wouldn’t you?’
It was the first I had heard of the Paris trip, but I blessed it. I had no mind to allow her to get her foot in at the office, so I did not answer her question. I was uneasy, however, for her remark indicated that she had not given up hope of being taken into partnership and I still envisaged stormy seas ahead.
‘Oh, Sandy only expects to take a week, or very little longer, on the walk,’ I said. ‘Then he’ll pop back here for a couple of days to pack for Stockholm.’
‘What on earth does he want with Stockholm? I thought he never went on holiday further north than Funchal or Cannes.’
‘There’s a book fair. Some of our authors are represented, so he thinks one of us ought to show up. When do you set off for Paris?’
‘Tomorrow. You and Sandy will be busy if he’s going on Wednesday, so don’t come and see me off. There will be a party of us, all women except for Maurice, and you can’t stand him.’
Sandy had never written to me when he was on holiday, so I was very much surprised to get a letter in a large envelope with his unmistakable superscription on it, particularly as I should be seeing him again so soon. He had arranged to drop in at the office the day after he got back from Scotland and pick up some papers to take with him to Stockholm. He had gone off on the Wednesday and the letter came on the following Wednesday morning. It contained some very startling news which I might have found incredible except for my own experiences north of the Border and subsequently in London. He wrote:
‘This is in the form of a diary, as I want a record of my experiences. You might lock it away somewhere when you’ve read it. I shall have been discharged from hospital and on my way home. Not to worry and don’t tell Hera. No harm done and no bones broken and shall be joining you soon after you get this.
‘Wednesday. An easy train journey north by way of Warrington, Wigan, Preston, Lancashire and Carlisle. Put up at Renfrew for the night. Good room and good dinner. Hotel full, but much coming and going, as everybody very much a bird of passage. Met up with Mellish after dinner and we had a drink together. He goes on to Perth tomorrow. You remember him from college, I expect.
‘Thursday. Took a bus to Milngavie to start the walk. As I went to get on board in Buchanan Street, some careless oaf nearly shoved me underneath the bus. No idea who it was, as quite a mob got on. Irritated by the conductor, who said, when he collected my fare, “Ane o’ these days ye’ll dae yoursel’ a mischief gin ye’re sae precipitous.” It was like being rebuked by an elder of the kirk. In fact, I bet that’s what he is on Sundays. However, I know better than to argue with anybody in uniform in a foreign country, so I accepted my change and said nothing.
‘Began the walk in fine, clear weather and was soon descending through woods — silver birch mostly — to the banks of a river called the Allander Water. The track followed the stream for a bit. You and Hera missed some very pleasant walking by joining The Way at Drymen instead of doing the whole stint.
‘Up hill and away from the stream after that and got on to a piece of moorland which is one of Glasgow’s playgrounds.
‘Crossed the ridge and then had easy walking along a track which your guidebook informs me was once the drive up to a stately home. I went through more woods and came upon lots and lots of wild flowers. Am no botanist, but recognised yellow tormentil, heath bedstraw and scabious, but there were lots of others. Up to that point I had connected Scotland only with heather, harebells and cottongrass.
‘After the numbers of people who had been on the path of moorland — really a wild sort of park — I seemed to have the woods to myself. Sat down with my back to one of the thickets and took your guidebook out of your rucksack to bone up on The Way. Talk about history repeating itself! I was reading the piece about the history of smugglers taking cover behind thickets in this very Mugdock Wood and having a bloody set-to with excisemen and soldiers when it damn well happened to me! Somebody must have been in that thicket behind me and must have crept out with the intention of belting me over the head. Luckily I heard a warning sound and I was able to wrench myself to one side, so most of the blow struck my arm and shoulder — though it did open up a nasty cut above my right eye.
‘Whether the motive was robbery — and I can think of only one other — I don’t know. If it was robbery, my assailant could have had no time to steal anything and not much chance anyway, because all my money was in a safety belt underneath my shirt and there was nothing much in the rucksack except a spare shirt and socks, soft shoes and some emergency rations. Of course I only know what I’ve been told since, but it appears that a party consisting of a doctor, his wife and two grown-up sons found me almost at once. I suppose the mugger heard them and made off. Fortunately, also, they were local people and knew that a nearby track led to the main road. To cut the story short, especially as I have it only by hearsay, I found myself in hospital with the devil of a headache and a very stiff arm and shoulder, but apparently nothing worse.
‘I have had no chance to thank the doctor and his family. Having got me to hospital, they resumed their holiday or their day out, I suppose, and of course I shouldn’t recognise them if, by any chance, I ever met them again, for I never saw them properly because of the blood which was running into my eyes from the head wound. The doctor at the hospital told me the family were called McKillop, but that’s all I know.
‘Saturday. Discharged myself from hospital, as feel much better and don’t want to waste my holiday. Find myself reluctant to rejoin The Way, however, unless I can find at least one other person to accompany me. However, I have a powerful urge to find that stone building where you thought you found Carbridge’s body, so I have hired a car and a driver.
‘Sunday. Am in the Kingshouse hotel. All the rest of my news when I see you next Thursday. Don’t know whether a post goes out from here today, but you should get this, with any luck, before I arrive.’
Hera was already home again. She had gone off on the Monday before Sandy travelled north on the Wednesday. She looked so haggard and exhausted that I was quite concerned and asked her whether she had been whooping it up in Paris. She turned on me in a bad temper and said that, if Sandy and I would see reason and take her into the partnership, she could give up the modelling jobs and all the travelling they entailed. She was in no state to be argued with, so I advised her to take things easy for a bit. This was at the office, where she had dropped in to tell me she was back. I was worried and I sent my secretary home with her with instructions to see that she had something to eat, and then went to bed. Our Miss Moore (Elsa to Sandy and me) is both firm and sympathetic. In any case, a woman is far better at coping with another woman than ever a man can be.