Monstrous appearances at the loch

As a lowlander with a particular accent exploring the highlands, both sides straining to understand the other, the common denominator is coffee. The morning caffeine hit, as essential as air and gravity almost.

I sit there with the second cappuccino contemplating whether the first one was sweeter when the phone rings, hesitating, I ignore it. With too much input already for this job I decide I’m good to go.

Edging towards the loch in a car which is far too large for my needs, I go through it in my mind - in a few weeks the ‘society of wildlife’ will go public with these creatures, these strangely evolved mammals will be put on show. There will be no more mystery or suspicious sightings, which has boosted the northern economy for years, but rather a brutal admission that there has indeed been a discovery.

He waves at me and I wave back. That must be Gregor Macleod, a big sturdy bulk of a man.

“Hullo there” Extending his hand to me.

“Hi Gregor, good to see you and the loch of course” I search out his water premises and see a boat which must be his.

We enter and he quickly shows me around. He brings out a flask of tea and I refuse his offer but help myself to some shortbread.

“So, Helen, how familiar are you with these waters?” He breaks a piece of shortbread in half like he is exerting an authority on the biscuit department.

“Not so much actually, the boss is liking that aspect though, fresh eyes and all that” I explain, quite suddenly feeling a nip of nervousness.

“What I’m about to show you is obviously top class confidential, got it?”

“Sure have” I watch as he produces some folders and files from a mighty big rucksack.

“See that!” Gregor almost conceals the image with his large hand.

“You are only the third person to see this, describe it to me….”

“Well, although it is a bit blurry, maybe two, possibly three creatures, how can I put it, being captured?” I cannot hide the dismay which I feel, then a sudden profound sadness overwhelms me”

“Grim, Helen, very grim, if you thought you were having a lighthearted escapade up north, then I’m afraid you were mistaken, what are your thoughts?” Gregor shudders then places the photo back into the folder.

“Well, for the article, we are talking about a harsh reality which really diverts the ‘wonderful discovery’ title that we were thinking of, this, this, …..is total theft Gregor, I am quite lost for words” I start to wonder what I was getting into.

“It’s not too late to back out Helen, it may be over your head, I understand completely” Gregor suddenly looks desolate and lonely. He drives the boat back to the jetty.

“See you here at the same time tomorrow but only if you have decided on a feature otherwise I’ll know you have had a change of heart” Gregor is looking down and shaking his head.

Later after dining in the hotel I speak to my boss telling him that the article would need to omit certain details, of which I cannot speak.

“Helen, drop it, I can tell by your voice it’s complicated - no worries though”

The following morning after a filling breakfast of porridge, I drove back to the city, to meet an anxious looking boss and a feature writer who has worked there for many years.

“Helen, sit down, I’m afraid that Gregor has been killed by a group of poachers, it’s been claimed, they are in custody, I want you to take the rest of the week off okay, James will deal with the update…..”

Opening the door to my modest flat, the first thing I want to do is prepare a cup of tea and dunk some digestive biscuits. I breathe deeply and take in the news….I feel deflated, dazed and a bit frightened too. James has organised for a psychologist to give me the once over and potentially get a course of therapy. He also sent some headlines circulating - ‘The cruel truth of the loch’ ‘What Gregor was hiding….’ ‘Shamed poachers caught with murderous intent’. James sent the first draft of his article:

Monstrous appearances at the Loch

The quiet of the loch hit a disturbance in the form of fish poachers, who coldly and calculatedly murdered local and loch expert Gregor Macleod, known to the residents as ‘Gregor the dragon hunter’. One local stated ‘ Gregor was part of the landscape here, as blended in as the legend itself and will be very much missed. Although often claiming a discovery which never was confirmed, the locals shared an affinity with the familiar man, who always had a big ‘Hello’ to all he met. This is tragic and sad.’

I fall asleep on the sofa and I’m gently awoken by my fiance, whom I hug ferociously, several hours later.

“Wow, I feel you missed me a lot,” David exclaims, hugging me back.

“You have no idea” I tell him, grinning, to simply be in his presence.

“There was something on the radio, on the news, that’s not connected to anything you were writing is it? David sounds worried.

“Actually yes David, I’m fine though, it was a lucky escape let’s say….” I shake my head in disbelief.

“Helen, why did they allow you to go there alone, if it was dangerous territory, where there are rumours, usually there is a kind of truth” David grabs my hand and holds it very tightly.

“I would not have you going there, if only I knew, do you fancy going to the park, we could grab a hot dog or something at the van” David looks thoughtful and serious.

“Sure, come on then, let's put on our coats and get moving” The fresh air is suddenly very appealing.

Walking hand in hand we admire the trees, plants and notice the leaves starting to fall. As we approach the river I say a sort of prayer to myself;

lush the leaves, that don’t deceive

Choppy the water, flowing gently

Wide the distance, getting shorter

Nature both takes and gives….

The van has run out of hot dogs so we settle for some fries instead and sit on the wooden bench.