Shadows and Spirits

Chapter 2

The Rhododendron refused to come free; its roots grasped the earth and stones tightly. McEwan hacked at the roots with his spade. He gritted his teeth as he tugged, and with a low roar ripped it free from the Welsh hillside.

“You look like you enjoyed that,” said the auburn haired girl in his work group. She had done some weird loop thing with her long hair that tied it back under its own weight. Whenever she bent over to work near the ground, her low-necked, navy blue vest, gave him an elusive view of her breasts. She wore shorts that showed off her long tanned legs. He hoped she hadn"t noticed him looking.

“There"s something satisfying about straight-forward, hard work,” he said. A trickle of sweat ran down his back, soaking into his blue shirt. He took his baseball cap and heavy gloves off and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

“I"m Kate, Kate Harlow,” she said.

He noticed she had a soft Lancashire accent. He liked it. “Alex,” he said.

“From Glasgow?” Kate asked. Her green eyes looked emerald in the summer sunshine.

“What gave that away?” he laughed. “Couldn"t have been the accent surely?”

Well, it was tough, but I figured it out. Besides, I just graduated from Glasgow uni.” She smiled, showing perfect white teeth. Her triangular face made her look like a taller, less slight, Audrey Hepburn.

“Anything useful?” McEwan said.

“Naah.”

“So, come here often?” he asked, joking.

“Twice actually,” Kate said. “Once, with my parents, when I was too young to remember and last year. We had a lot of Americans and Belgians last year, for some reason. I quite like it here.”

She sat down and looked out over the valley. Hills rolled away into the distance. A light mist hung in the bottom of the vale and gave it a haunted look. It would burn off by lunchtime. The church they were staying in was couple of miles away, but its spire could still be seen. Birds sung in the trees. The lightly wooded hillside was warm, full of laughter and the sound of spade slicing into dry earth. McEwan sat down next to her. She smelled of sunshine.

“Not slacking off already are you?” asked a blonde girl, who emerged from behind the clump of Rhododendrons.

“Lynda, this is Kate. Kate, this is my girlfriend Lynda.” McEwan introduced them. Lynda had been trimming down the branches. It was a relatively easy job that was largely effort free. “We"ve got one bush out. I don"t think there"s much harm in having a rest before we clean up the remaining roots. Is there any water left?”

“Yeah, I"ll get it,” Lynda said. She returned momentarily with a half-full litre bottle and handed it to McEwan. “Don"t drink all of it,” she said. The bottle had been full when they left this morning. This was his first drink.

McEwan bit his tongue, it was easier not to say anything. He took a long drink of the tepid water and offered the bottle to Kate. “I guess I"ll have to go and get some more,” he said. She took it, her hand brushing his. Lynda was waiting with hands on hips, frowning and casting a cool shadow over McEwan.

“It"s okay,” said Kate. “I"ve got a bottle and I"m sure someone else in the group will have some.” She indicated the others, working on a clump ten metres along the hillside.

One of them noticed her looking at them. He waved, smiling. She wiped the bottle mouth with her hand and took a sip. “That"s John. I guess we"re seeing each other,” she said. “Although, to be honest, I only met him last week, when I came here.” She waved back.

McEwan felt a slight pang of jealousy. “Thanks,” he said. “I didn"t really fancy the round trip.” Kate passed the bottle back to Lynda.

“Come on,” Lynda said. “We"ve a whole hillside to clear.” She stomped back round the clump and returned to trimming the bushes.

“Guess we better get back to it then,” said McEwan, raising his arms in a "what can you do" gesture. Kate grinned and joined a conspiracy.

“Do you fancy her?” Lynda asked him later.

“No,” he said, holding her gaze, knowing that he probably did.

* * *

They sat on the balcony, their feet dangling over the edge, as they looked through the banister at the stream bubbling by. The sun was setting, turning the sky shades of gold, red and cobalt. The heat of the day had warmed the dry wood and was radiating from the redbrick wall behind them. McEwan felt at peace, happy and content.

His culinary skills had fed thirty. The food had been so well received that the conservation volunteers had come back for more. He had hardly eaten himself. His stir-fry didn"t seem to have agreed with Lynda though. She was, by turns, in pain or in the loo. There wasn"t much he could do. He sat with Kate, watching the world go by, pleased he had met someone he could be quiet with.

“I better go check on her,” he said, breaking the silence.

“Stay, come on a walk with me, into the trees,” she grinned impishly, an unspoken promise in her eyes.

“I can"t,” he said, regretting, for once, being bound by his principles.

Kate"s face fell. “I don"t understand how you can be with someone like her, no-one here can. You"re kind and helpful. She"s a shrew, a selfish, wicked, spiteful woman. That"s not something that"s easy for me to say about anyone.”

“I guess I see a side of her no-one else does, when we"re alone.” McEwan clambered up. Kate reached out and held his fingers. Gently, regretfully, he left her to attend to his duty. She sat and watched the water flow as the sun went down.

* * *

They stood out on the dirt track outside the church hall, a large pile of suitcases and rucksacks off to one side. Lynda"s dad would be picking them up soon. Goodbyes were being said.

Kate thrust a small sheaf of papers into his hand. “We"re making sure we all swap email addresses,” she said. “So we photocopied the contact list the conservation trust made up. My details are in there, I hope you write.” Kate handed another bunch of papers to Lynda, smiling.

A few months later, after Lynda slept with his best friend, he was free again, so he did.