Suddenly, it was a holiday. A damp and scrubbed Charlie had been brought back by Heather. He sat with his back against the estate car’s wheel contentedly munching a sandwich.
All at once he said in his clear treble, “That is quite a frightful woman, you know.”
No one said, “Who?”
Although no one added their criticism to Charlie’s, they were all bonded together in a common resentment against Lady Jane and an equally common determination that she was not going to spoil things.
“Oh, there’s Constable Macbeth,” said Alice.
The lanky figure of the policeman had materialized behind the group.
“Those sandwiches look very good,” he said, studying the sky.
“Help yourself,” said Heather, rather crossly. “Packed lunches are not all that expensive, Mr Macbeth.”
“Is that a fact,” said the constable pleasantly. “I’m right glad to hear it. I would not want to be taking away food that cost a lot.”
To Alice’s amusement, he produced a small collapsible plastic cup from the inside of his tunic and held it out to Heather, who muttered something under her breath as she filled it up with tea.
“You obviously don’t get much crime in this area, Officer,” said Daphne caustically.
“I wouldnae say that,” said Hamish between bites of ham sandwich. “People are awfy wicked. The drunkenness on a Saturday night is a fair disgrace.”
“Have you made any major arrests?” pursued Daphne, catching Jeremy Blythe’s eye and inviting him to share in the baiting of Hamish.
“No, I hivnae bagged any majors. A few sodjers sometimes.”
Amy Roth let out a trill of laughter, and Daphne said crossly to Hamish, “Are you being deliberately stupid?”
Hamish looked horrified. “I would no more dream of being deliberately stupid, miss, than you yourself would dream of being deliberately bitchy.”
“Fun’s over,” whispered Jeremy to Alice. “Back comes Lady Jane.”
She came crashing through the undergrowth. Her broad face was flushed, and she had a scratch down one cheek. But her eyes held a triumphant, satisfied gleam.
John Cartwright hurriedly began to make arrangements to move his school on to further fishing grounds for the afternoon. Boxes of hooks were distributed. More knots demonstrated – a towel knot and a figure of eight.
This time even Lady Jane struggled away in silence to master the slippery nylon. The fever of catching fish was upon the little party.
“Now,” said Heather, “we’ll issue you each with knotted leaders, but have your own leaders knotted and ready for tomorrow morning. We have the Anstey River for the afternoon. Carry this fishing permit – I’ll give you each one – in your pockets in case you are stopped by the water bailiffs. Marvin and Amy, I believe you have done some fly fishing in the States. We’ll start you off on the upper beats. We suggest you keep moving. Never fish in one spot for too long. If you come back to the hotel before we set out, then we’ll issue you with waders. John and I will show each of you what to do as soon as we’re on the river. We’ll need to take the cars. John and I will take Alice and Charlie. Daphne can go with Jeremy, and I believe the rest of you have your own cars. Has anyone seen the major?”
Lady Jane spoke up. “He was fishing about on the other side of the loch, pretending to be an angler. At least it makes a change from pretending to be an officer and a gentleman.”
“The rest of you go on to the hotel,” said John hurriedly. “I’ll go and look for the major.”
“I wish you were coming with me,” said Jeremy to Alice.
She looked at him in surprise. She had been so obsessed with Mr Patterson-James that she had never really stopped to think any other man might find her attractive.
As Jeremy moved off with Daphne, Alice studied him covertly. He really was a very attractive man. His voice was pleasant and slightly husky. He did not seem to have to strangle and chew his words as Mr Patterson-James did. Her heart gave a little lift, and she unconsciously smiled at Jeremy’s retreating back.
“No use,” said Lady Jane, appearing at Alice’s elbow. “He’s one of the Somerset Blythes. Quite above your touch, wouldn’t you say? Daphne’s more his sort.”
Alice was consumed by such a wave of bitter hatred that she thought she would suffocate. “Fook off!” she said, in a broad Liverpool accent.
“Attagirl!” remarked Marvin cheerfully.
Lady Jane muttered something. Alice thought she said, “I’ll make you sorry you said that,” but she must have been imagining things.
Alice was prepared to find herself cut off from Jeremy for the rest of the day. But when they reached the river Anstey, which broadened out at one part into a large loch, Heather arranged that Jeremy and Alice should take out the rowing boat and fish from there while the rest were distributed up and down the banks several miles apart.
Before she allowed Alice to go out in the boat, Heather gave her a gruelling half-hour lesson in casting. Alice caught her hat, caught the bushes behind, wrapped her leader around the branches of a tree, and then quite suddenly found she had mastered the knack of it.
“Don’t keep worrying about all that line racing out behind you,” said Heather. “Just concentrate on what you’ve been told. Now you’re ready to go. Jeremy, you’ve obviously done this before.”
“Yes, but very clumsily,” said Jeremy.
“Take the boat and row upstream and then drift slowly back down,” said Heather. “You may not catch a salmon but you should get some trout.”
He rowed them swiftly up the stream while Alice nervously held her rod upright and wondered what on earth she would do if she caught a fish. The day was warm and sunny, and she felt laden down with equipment. Her long green waders were clumsy and heavy. She had a fishing knife in one pocket and mosquito repellent in the other, since clouds of Scottish midges were apt to descend towards dusk.
She had a fishing net hanging from a string around her neck, and from another string a pair of small sharp scissors.
On top of her wool fishing hat, kept back from her face by the thin brim, was a sort of beekeeper mosquito net which could be pulled down over her face if the flies got too bad.
Jeremy rested the oars. “Pooh, it’s hot. Let’s take some clothes off.”
Alice blushed painfully. Of course he meant they should remove some of their outer woollens, but Alice was at an age when everything seemed to sound sexy. She wondered feverishly whether she had a dirty mind.
Thank goodness she had had the foresight to put a thin cotton blouse under her army sweater. Alice took off her hat and then her sweater after unslinging the fishing net and laying it in the bottom of the boat. She kept her scissors around her neck. Heather had been most insistent that they keep a pair of scissors handy for cutting lines and snipping free hooks.
“Well,” said Jeremy, “here goes!”
The water was very still and golden in the sun. A hot smell of pine drifted on the air mixed with the smell of wild thyme. Alice felt herself gripped by a desire to catch something – anything.
She cast and cast again until her arms ached. And then…
“I’ve got something,” she whispered. “It’s a salmon. It feels enormous.”
Jeremy quickly reeled in his line and picked up his net. “Don’t reel in too fast,” he said. He picked up the oars and moved the boat gently. Alice’s rod began to bend.
“Reel in a bit more,” he said.
“Oh, Jeremy,” said Alice, pink with excitement, “what am I going to do?”