Very slowly, he lifted the camera to his eyes, only that, as if waiting for the bird to do something.
She watched as the kingfisher moved along the riverbank picking at things in the grass. Then he flew up and perched on a high branch above the water. She didn’t really know much about birds, but this one was pretty. If his little life consisted of hopping among flowers beside a stream, then he was probably a happy bird. Wasn’t that like her life? Living in a beautiful place, enjoying life?
Suddenly, the kingfisher took off and flew over the water, wings fanned wide. What had been a small bird was now a surprisingly large flying streak of blue.
Fast and lethal.
It took a dive straight down like an arrow; its long beak broke water and snatched a fish.
She was dimly aware of the clicking beside her as Gabriel took a stream of pictures, but her attention was riveted on the bird flying away with his catch.
She hadn’t even seen the fish, but the bird clearly had. There were other birds all around, she now noticed. They weren’t drifting aimlessly, enjoying the morning sunshine; they were searching, looking out, ready to catch.
A vague thought nagged at back of her mind. Something important.
“Are we making a birdwatcher out of you?” Gabriel asked when she hadn’t followed him back into the meadow. “You’re staring at those pretty intently.”
“Shhh…” She put a finger to her lips. Let him think she was a birdwatcher; in her head she was chasing that illusive thought just as much as the kingfisher had chased its fish. And then she got it.
She had to move into a more comfortable position sitting cross-legged on the grass. She pulled her forest-green skirt down over her knees then clasped her ankles and let the thought form properly in her head.
A bird could hop around on the riverbank searching for little fish among the rocks and weeds, or it could be more ambitious and look ahead for a bigger catch. The question was, which kind of catcher wasshe?
Until that moment, she had been playing, drifting around the water. If a fish strayed right into her hand, then she took it. Lord M had actually forced her to write this article and forced her to write it quickly. An old man who was sick, it seemed, had more initiative than her.
What was she waiting for?
Energy started coursing through her as the ideas formed in her head, almost the same way that words lined up for a greeting card template. Pushing herself up, she looked for Gabriel. He stood a few feet away examining his camera, scrolling through photographs he’d already taken.
Sensing her eyes on him, he looked around and a wide grin broke on his face. “Tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
“Whatever it is that has you looking like you just opened a shoebox and discovered a rainbow.”
She laughed. It was a perfect description. “I’m changing my mind about the article,” she said. She came to stand beside him and looked into the screen on the back of his camera. “I want to write an academic article and send it out to lots of publications. It might take time for one of them to publish, certainly never in time for the wedding. After all the research and studying, I think I deserve to have something serious published under my name.”
She glanced up at him. “I know what you’re thinking:What about Lord M’s request for the wedding?”
He watched her, saying nothing. His face was very alert, waiting to hear more, as if he could sense her excitement building.
“You’ve taken lots of pictures, far too many for an article. And I have a lot of material, stories, anecdotal detail, legends, fragments of folk songs that don’t belong in an academic article but are really fascinating. So…I thought…” She waited for the idea to crystallise in her mind.
“A picture book,” he guessed.
“A picture book,” she said at the same time.
His eyes shone with the same excitement she felt.
“A beautiful special edition book with pictures on every page. Basically” — She held her hands together as if squeezing a precious jewel — “Every little anecdote or little detail will have a picture. I want it to transport the reader to the world of La Canette in a bygone era and make them fall in love with it.” She looked up at him. “What do you think?”
“I think this is possibly the best idea I’ve heard in years. This is exactly what I wanted, something to showcase the island and bring it to life.”
“My only worry is if we have enough time.”
“We’ll make time.”
“I already have the printing company booked for the article. I’ll phone them later and get a quote for the book.”
