Chapter Ten #4
‘I believe some other species have attracted mates,’ commented Gwen. ‘I’m going to turn in.’
‘You can sleep through that?’ asked Iris.
‘It’s not my first time in a country inn,’ said Gwen, settling into her bed. ‘I don’t think I’ll have any problem. Goodnight, Iris.’
‘Goodnight, Gwen,’ returned Iris, getting into her own bed.
Sure enough, Iris heard her partner’s soft snores within minutes.
Those, combined with the distant hooting, their neighbours’ increasing passion, and the travel alarm clock, whose ticking seemed to echo more and more loudly as she tried to ignore it, put her into a state of restlessness.
Finally, she got up, threw on her dressing gown and crept softly out of the room.
She thought she would see if she could sneak down and grab a nightcap to help calm her.
She didn’t want to turn on the hall light and disturb any of her fellow travellers, not that she necessarily believed they were capable of distraction at the moment, so she tiptoed through the darkness until she reached the door to the staircase.
She felt for the wall and made her way down slowly and carefully. As she reached the bottom, a glow lit the doorway. Then a candle appeared abruptly as a woman turned into it, and Iris found herself face to face with Mrs Dorter, who looked at her in surprise.
‘Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,’ said Iris.
‘Likewise,’ returned Mrs Dorter, holding the candle up to view her. ‘It’s Miss McTague, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, it is.’
‘Do you need something?’
‘I was having trouble sleeping. I thought I’d see if I could get something to settle my nerves.’
‘I’m so sorry, but we don’t serve alcohol after midnight,’ said Mrs Dorter. ‘And our stoves are wood-burning and out for the night, so warm milk isn’t available, either.’
‘Goodness, is it that late? I’m so sorry to have disturbed you.’
‘I was up, so no apologies necessary,’ said Mrs Dorter. ‘I’m sorry I cannot remedy your restlessness. I suggest some deep breathing. Let the country air work its wonders.’
‘There’s plenty of deep breathing happening about our floor,’ said Iris. ‘No one seems to be tiring from it.’
‘Give them time,’ said Mrs Dorter with a throaty laugh. ‘They’ll wear out eventually.’
‘I’ll get back to my room, then. Goodnight.’
‘Goodnight,’ said Mrs Dorter. ‘And Miss McTague?’
‘Yes?’
‘You should be more careful.’
‘About what?’ asked Iris, eyeing the other woman warily.
‘Wandering about in the dark like that,’ said Mrs Dorter. ‘Especially since you’ve forgotten to put on your spectacles. I’ll light your way up.’
‘Thank you. I appreciate it.’
She turned and climbed the stairs, Mrs Dorter two steps behind.
Iris’s shadow preceded her, jouncing in the candlelight.
When they reached the guest floor, Mrs Dorter stood in the doorway to illuminate the hallway until Iris reached her room.
She turned to wave at their hostess. Mrs Dorter merely nodded and turned to go to the upper floor, the candlelight fading away.
Iris was mildly irritated by the encounter as well as her lack of success in obtaining a nightcap. Blessedly, the noises from the next room had subsided, as had Gwen’s snoring, so she was finally able to fall into an uneasy sleep with only the ticking of the clock breaking the silence of the night.
The clanging of the alarm jolted her awake just before sunrise. She stopped it quickly and sat on the side of her bed. Across the room, Gwen’s eyes fluttered open.
‘Breakfast?’ she mumbled.
‘Not for another two hours. Last chance to go beetling with me.’
‘Promise me that’s true, then go away,’ said Gwen, closing her eyes.
Iris dressed quietly, finishing with her wellies and a broad-brimmed hat.
She remembered to include the spectacles this time.
She grabbed her binoculars and the beetle book, then headed downstairs and out the back door.
The faint glimmerings of the sun appeared behind her, and as she reached the gate to the meadow, she was startled by a raucous cock-a-doodle-doodling to her right.
She looked to see a large brown and white speckled rooster with cream-coloured legs and feet and a bright red comb and wattle. It looked at her suspiciously, then tilted its head back and sounded the dawn again.
‘Good morning,’ she said. ‘I presume you are Ernie. Well done, and thank you for your service.’
Ernie clucked at her. She chose to interpret the sound as cordial, and nodded affably before opening the gate and slipping through it, making sure to secure it firmly behind her.
There was a well-trodden path through the tall grasses.
In the distance, she heard some low quacking.
The path took her into that direction, and a few minutes later she came to large, irregularly shaped pond.
As she did, a muddy brown-coloured duck paddled across, the splash of green on its wing giving away its identity.
Behind it, four ducklings, about three-quarters the size of their mother, followed behind in a line, stopping to dabble amid a clump of weeds whenever she did.
Some movement out of the corner of her eye drew her attention, and she squatted by a yellowed stalk to see a small, narrow beetle climbing it. Its back had an almost beaded appearance with a thin, green stripe running up the centre.
Zircon reed beetle, she thought happily, pulling out a small notebook and jotting it down.
There was a group of beetles skating along the surface by a cluster of weeds at the edge. She made her way over to them to get a closer look.
‘Once again, you should be more careful, Miss McTague,’ came a voice nearby.
She looked up, startled, to see Mrs Dorter standing ten feet away, a large straw basket partly filled with herbs in one hand, and a rather sharp-looking blade in the other.
‘Or should I say,’ continued Mrs Dorter, smiling coldly, ‘you should be more careful, Miss Sparks?’