Chapter 68: Chapter 68

*****

James Carrying a tray with tea all round, I find Michael and Ben in the back ‘garden’. A great swathe has been cut through the tangle of briars. Both are hot and sweaty.

Ben scowls as he sees me, but Michael brightens, taking a mug from the tray. “Ah great, thanks, James.”

Ben nods, barely polite, but takes a mug anyway.

I glance up at the sun, beginning to beat through the last traces of the morning mist. “Perhaps I should have brought something cold.”

“Nah….” Michael waves a beer can at me. “Just had one. Not a good idea to have another while we’re still waving machetes and axes around.”

“Have you seen Charlotte?”

Michael nods back to the house. “In her room, I expect. She said something about revision for her exams.”

So, I go in search of my mermaid.

Not in her study….

She should be working. Exams next week….

Where is she?

She’s nowhere in the house, so I wander back outside, bypassing Michael and his sour-faced brother.

I don't see her at first but hear her voice. So, I follow the sound….

Where the hell is she?

And there, I find her, in the meadow, concealed by a stand of tall, scrubby grass, but sitting cross-

legged on short rabbit-clipped turf overlooking the verdant slopes down to the lake. The long grass conceals her to the casual eye, but her own view is open, gloriously so, all the way down the valley to where the water sparkles far below. It’s hot and she’s in jeans and a skimpy tee-shirt, but she’s kicked off her trainers and socks to sit barefoot.

And, as she should be, she’s working, with a text on her lap, notes by her side and speaking quietly to herself in that sing-song way that suggests she's learning something by rote. Intent on her work, she doesn’t notice me until I am almost on top of her.

“Hiding?” I ask, offering a mug of tea.

She startles, but her face lights up. “Master, I didn't see you.”

“Do you want me to go? I didn't mean to disturb you….”

“No. Not at all.” And smiling, she holds her hand up to me. “Come and sit with me.”

The sun is warm on my face as I sit beside her, burning its way through the last wraiths of morning mist.

Down at ground level, the tall grass rustles quietly, whispering its secrets to the breeze, and scented of summer and warm hay. Small life buzzes and skitters through the stalks, tiny beetles, glistening black-

green in the sunlight, bees, black and furry, and small blue butterflies flit between meadow flowers. And spider-silk, still strung with pearls of dew, glints where it lies in deadly wait, threaded between the long stems.

She's picked the right place for her studying….

“What a lovely spot,” I say. “How's the work going?”

She glances down at the text by her side. “It’s okay. But I’m trying to memorise the equations for fluid flow, Bernoulli and Euler…. I get half-way through, then I need to check and then it’s gone again.” She taps her forehead. “It’s giving me a headache….”

I chuckle. “I’m not surprised. Would you like me to drill you?”

“Oh, would you? Yes, that would be much easier.”

“Let me see what you have there.” My fingers brush hers as I take the text, quickly scanning the pages to see what she’s working on. “Alright, give me the basic equation for Bernoulli’s Principle.”

She pauses, then, “Pee-one plus…. half rho, vee-one squared….” She falters, pressing fingers to her temple. “Don’t tell me.”

“You’re trying to do it the hard way, I think.”

Her eyes settle on me. “There’s an easy way?”

“You’re trying to simply remember by rote. Instead, think about what the components of the equation mean.” Her brow furrows. “Instead of parroting it at me, tell me what the individual parts are.”

“Um, static pressure of the fluid plus kinetic energy plus potential energy.”

“Exactly. Now think about that and how each parts of the equation is constructed.”

“Um…. Static pressure pee one, plus kinetic energy, half rho vee-one squared, plus, um… potential energy, rho, gee, aitch one equals….” Her face lights up. “That’s much easier. Thank you, Master.”

“My pleasure… Now,” I tap the textbook. “Next….”

*****

Michael Dripping with sweat, I gasp and jam my axe into the stump. “I need a breather.”

Ben gulps and nods. “I’ll go with that.” He stands and stretches. “Too much bending. Fancy a walk?

Straighten the limbs out.”

“Good idea.”

We stroll out to the front of the house, easing aching limbs. Ben rubs at the back of his neck. I roll my head and shoulders, working out the kinks. Scruffy trots along beside, his walk sprightly, and occasionally rolling in the grass.

From somewhere comes the sound of voices, and with no particular aim in mind, we amble in that direction.

James’ voice. “…. So, for the general case of the Eulerian equations, what are the conserved features?”

Charlotte: “Mass, momentum and energy.”

“Right, so give me the equation….”

Ben gives me an old look. “I see he's there with your wife again.”

“Oh, give it a rest, Ben. Listen to them. He’s a qualified engineer and a fucking good one. She's got exams next week and he's helping her study. What’s wrong with that?”

He casts a black look across to where, sheltered by a patch of standing hay, the two are intent on some book or other. “It looks too…. intimate.”

He’s right of course. This is Charlotte and her beloved Master. But I can’t say so. Not to Ben. So, I dismiss the comment.

He glowers. “How long’s she got to go with her studies?”

“A couple of years yet.” I nod across to the pair. “You reckon you can help her with that stuff? I know I can’t.”

He ignores the question. “And after that?”

I shrug. “I suppose Richard takes her on as a real employee instead of a trainee.”

He squares on to me, arms folded. “And you're happy with that?”

What the hell’s he talking about?

“Of course I'm happy with it. Why would I object?”

“I know you always wanted a family when you decided to settle down.”

“So I do, but we've only been married five minutes.”

“And yet here she is, working at a career and spending half her waking time with another man.”

Who the fuck do you think you are?

“Ben, just mind your own business, will you. I married her knowing that she wanted to make something of herself. It would hardly be fair for me to move the goalposts now.”

Lips pursed, he looks away. “Well, you can’t tell me what’s happening is right.”

“What exactly do you imagine is happening, Ben?” He glowers and doesn’t reply. After a minute, I say, “Shall we call it a day? We’ve done plenty and it’s getting too hot to work.”

He nods; a short, curt movement that speaks volumes.

No wonder you have trouble with women….

But what can you do? People have to make their own choices. I walk him back to his car. “Thanks for the help, Ben. I really appreciate it.”

“Any time, Bro.” He looks up at me from the driver’s window. “I’ll always try to help you. You know that, don’t you?”

I double-slap the car roof with the palm of my hand. “I know, Ben. See you in a day or so.”

And he drives away.