Page 16 of The Women at Ocean's End

11

Ros

Ros missed the call to her mobile, so instead she opened her phone to a voicemail from her boss on the mainland. They were sending an environmental engineer across in the afternoon to take a look around the island.Shane McPherson. This bloke knows his stuff. Make sure you don’t let us down by saying something daft.Apparently, if the visit went well, the island would be on the way to getting a green light in turning huge tracts of its unused land over to National Park land. There would be an application to the government departments and all sorts of hoops to jump through, but all they needed was for Ros to show the guy around the place, make a good impression and keep him away from any farmers who might be against the proposal. Shane McPherson would also check on the status of the water quality at the source of some of the streams. These tributaries, little more than a trickle in places, were vital to the wildlife on the island. They started in the mountains and traced across the island, washing through the marshy bogs and the hidden tree copse. Ros loved going down to the copse; it was home to a rich assortment of wildlife, from the microscopic to the majestic red deer that spent most of their time hiding among the silver birch and out of sight.

Shane McPherson. Ros tried out the name, but there was nothing even vaguely familiar about it. He was probably one of those middle-aged men who dressed in regulation ranger kit (inthe vague hope that it made them seem outdoorsy) that sagged on the backside and stretched dangerously across their middles. That was what doing a desk job did to you. Ros just hoped he’d be fit enough to make the climb to the top of Pin Hill because it was a good two-hour trek and steep at the top. Certainly not a place you wanted to get stranded for the night, at least not until the temperatures rose a little.

He was due to come across after lunch, which gave her plenty of time to make sure that there was enough food in the fridge to feed him at least. The best the island ran to this time of year in fine dining was a pub lunch with a choice of either shepherd’s pie or toasted sandwiches on a Tuesday. Life here was nothing if not predictable. She made up the narrow single bed in what doubled as an office and a spare room in the cottage. If they were going to climb Pin Hill, they’d have to do it first thing in the morning. At least the weather forecast for the following day was mild and dry. In spite of the fact that she was having an uninvited guest, she was actually quite looking forward to the climb to the mountain top. It was a few weeks since she’d been there and the views were spectacular, although she knew there wouldn’t be a lot of time to take photographs or sit back and enjoy it.

‘Hey?’ A knock on the cottage door almost made her lose her balance as she was searching on top of the old dresser for a torch to pack in her rucksack for the trek. ‘Whoa, careful there… you could fall.’ She turned to see a man, dressed in regulation kit that looked as if it had been made to measure. Not a dumpy bottom or an overhanging belly in sight. This guy looked as if he’d walked off aVogueshoot for rugged country living.

‘Shane?’ She had to check, because he was the complete opposite of what she had been expecting. This guy was young, well, thirties but good-looking, fanciable even, and he was smiling, which made a change from the likes of Max Toolis or Keith Duff or indeed moody Jonah Ashe.

‘Last time I checked.’ His smile was dangerously contagious. ‘Do you get many men pushing through your front door at random hours then?’

‘A few,’ she lied, enjoying the banter. She stuck out her hand to him. ‘Ros Stokes and you’re early.’

‘Early? I didn’t realise there was an ETA.’ He looked confused.

‘Well, not that there was a time mentioned, but the ferry only comes across once a day at this time of year and that’s when the tide suits, so not for another hour or more. So I just expected you a little later.’

‘Ah, sorry, I came under my own steam,’ he said.

‘You swam then.’ She was joking too.

‘Very funny, I have a small boat; it was good to get a chance to take it out. Normally it’s laid up until summer, but I thought, well, it’ll give me a bit more flexibility about the job. I might even manage to get back a bit earlier.’

‘So you’re based close by?’ She’d have expected him to be in Dublin – after all, how much work was going for environmental engineers in the sticks, well, that was unless they were attached to one of the big energy companies.

‘I live in Ballycove.’ He smiled.

‘Sorry, I just assumed they’d sent you down from HQ, you know. I didn’t realise that there were environmental engineers on staff locally.’

‘I’m freelance, I do consultancy work, when I can get it and when I can’t…’ he shrugged his shoulders, ‘I surf and sail.’ He was making fun of her now. ‘So, what’s the plan? Can we start straight away?’

‘Sure, we’ll see what we can do about that for you, shall we?’ She pointed to the kitchen table where she’d spread out a map of the island so they could agree their route. While he pored over it, she made tea and brought a plate of sandwiches she’d made earlier from the fridge.

‘Ah, you shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble,’ he said.

‘No trouble, it’s my lunch too.’ She grabbed a ham sandwich and took a bite.

Because he had arrived earlier than expected, it turned out that they could cover quite a bit of the lower-lying river locations for testing straight away.

‘All on foot?’ he asked as she pointed out a route that went mostly across country.

‘Unless you brought a car on that boat with you, yes, it’s the only way to travel over here.’

‘There are cars though, I mean, the locals have to have cars? It’s a bloody big island if you wanted to walk from one end to the other.’

‘It is and there are cars and tractors and even a helicopter when our local millionaire is at home on the southern part of the island.’

‘It’s a different world here, isn’t it?’ he asked. He had walked to the open half-door and was gazing out towards Pin Hill Mountain and the boggy terrain that lay for umpteen acres at its base. Mostly it was wetlands, marshlands and, really, the ideal spot to conserve as National Park land.

‘It certainly is,’ she said and she knew it wouldn’t be everyone’s cup of tea. She hoped that might prove to be a good thing when it came to people applying for the ranger job.

Shane had brought a kit bag filled with sample bottles and testing gear. ‘They’ll still have to go back to the lab, for the official seal, but at least we’ll have a fair idea of things before we finish.’

‘It’s probably my imagination, or maybe the heights of wishful thinking, but I think the water is running clearer since I’ve been here. I’ve spotted any amount of river life on the lower stages of those rivers that were on the endangered list last year when we arrived.’

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