When he wasn’t at Cliff Haven or sleeping in the van, he was at the village pub, Philips Folly, grabbing a pint and a sandwich or walking in the hills to clear his head and blow the cobwebs away.
It was on one such day, a
Sunday, when he set off to get to the famous landmark, Beacon Rock, so called,
because a beacon was built on the rock to warn of the impending arrival of the
Spanish Armada, but it was never lit, due to the fact that the weather was so
bad that the sentry’s couldn’t see past the end of the island let alone see a
fleet of ships.
To get to the rock he had to
cross the neighboring Beacon Farm, which
was the third largest of the five farms on the island, covering an area in the
southeast, bordered by the Beacon River in the west, and the Spanish River in
the east and the rugged coastline to the south from Beacon Rock to Spaniards
Point.
George followed a route close
to the cliff edge and then cut inland when he spotted the beacon and was
enjoying the peace and solitude, when the peace was shattered by a female voice
uttering some very un-lady like phrases, so he walked in the direction of the
cursing.
It didn’t take long to reach
the source, which turned out to be a strawberry blonde woman trying to wrestle
a trapped ewe out of a brook.
“Do you need a hand” he asked.
“I can manage” she snapped.
“It looks like it” George
retorted as he got closer.
“I said I can manage” she
barked which was when he realized who it was, Katherine Harrison, a little less
vibrancy in hair and a few more lines on her face, but it was clearly her.
“For God’s sake Katie take
the damned help when its offered” he said as he stepped in the brook.
“Who the Hell do you…?” she
began and looked up at him.
“George Wood?”
“In the flesh” he said.
“Then give me a bloody hand”
she snapped.
Once the stubborn ewe was
extricated from the stream, they both clambered out after it and sat down on a nearby
rocky shelf, while her dog corralled the beast against the rocks.
“How long have you been back
on the Island?” she asked between breaths.
“About a month” He replied.
“The last I heard you were in
America” Katie said.
“Yes, Colorado mainly” he
replied.
“What brought you back?”
“My employer died” He replied
solemnly.
“Unemployed then?” she asked.
“No, I’m still employed by
the family” he replied.
“That’s a shame, I could have
used some extra help.”
“Are you shorthanded then?”
“Yes, Louise is pregnant,
with twins, due imminently” she said, “And Neil has a broken collar bone, so
Nikki and I are doing everything.”“
Louise was her younger
sister; Neil Stratford was her husband and Nicola was her daughter.
“What about Eddie?”
“Eddie?” she asked with
surprise.
“He’s been in prison for the
last three years.”
“I’m sorry, I hadn’t heard”
he said, “What did he do?”
“Armed robbery”
“Eddie?”
“Yes, Eddie, and two people
were killed, not by Eddie, but he was there” She explained “So he won’t be
getting out anytime soon.”
“How did he get involved with
armed robbers?”
“No idea” she replied and
then after a minute added.
“We weren’t together, we were
divorced by then.”
“Divorced?” he exclaimed,
that was very surprising, and remarkably interesting news.
“Anyway, due to the afore
mentioned circumstances, I don’t have time to sit around chewing the fat.”
Katie said.
“It was good to see you
though.”
“And you” he agreed.
“Where are you staying by the
way?”
“Up by Spaniards Point”
“I heard some silly bugger
was living in a campervan up by the ruins, is that you?”
“It is” he replied, and she
laughed as she walked away.
“If I get any free time I’ll
come down and give you a hand.” He called.
“I’ll look forward to it” she
called back.
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