‘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 poacher. 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.’
Lianne split her legs and with one huge step she comically flung her arm over her head and placed her picture right next to Shane’s. Then drawing her legs together, she put a hand to her mouth and blew a kiss straight into the recording mobile.
Felicity and Jane carefully rested their pictures side by side and Shane, unbeknown to them, took a wide shot of their behinds.
‘You scoundrel,’ said Rupert, wafting his hand in front of the camera.
‘Keep going, mate, that’s excellent footage.’
Louis handed me his picture and I began a new row.
‘Minty, Giles,’ I called out, ‘we’re having a crit.’ They joined the group and both their paintings received compliments
