Sky Hawk

by Lewis, Gill

  Silence fell across the church as Reverend Parsons walked up the aisle followed slowly by old Mr McNair. A woman shuffled next to him, her arm linked with his. It was Iona’s mother. I recognized her from the photo in Iona’s locket, but here her face looked grey and lined, her dark eyes sunk deep in their sockets. I couldn’t imagine she was ever a dancer. She kept her head down as if she could feel all the eyes in church upon her.

  Reverend Parsons helped them into their seats and climbed up into his eagle-winged pulpit. My thoughts were running with Iona through the hills as his voice carried over our heads. Two girls from the class read out poems and one sang a solo. Then we all sang ‘All Things Bright and Beautiful’, which had been Iona’s favourite hymn, once.

  When the service ended, we all stood as Mr McNair and Iona’s mother walked back out of the church. They stopped when they reached my pew. Iona’s mother turned to me. Her hands were clasped as if in prayer, and they were shaking badly. Her skin was papery white and covered in dark spidery bruises.

  ‘Callum McGregor?’ she said.

  Her voice was thin and hoarse as if it was a struggle to speak.

  I nodded.

  ‘I think this belongs to you now.’

  She cupped my hand in hers and dropped a small heart-shaped locket and chain into my hand. It was the gold locket Iona always wore around her neck. I’d never seen her without it. Iona’s mother squeezed my hand and turned away.

  I flicked open the locket, then wished I hadn’t. On one side was the picture of Iona and on the other side, in the small heart-shaped space, was a photo of me, a small photo I recognized from a class picture at school. I shoved the locket and chain deep in my pocket, feeling angry at Rob and Euan for watching and angrier at Iona for even putting me in there.

  ‘Look at the state of her,’ said Euan’s mum, watching Iona’s mother leave the church. ‘It’s enough to make your heart bleed.’

  ‘The shame of it,’ said Rob’s mum behind us, ‘letting a wee bairn like Iona live with that old man. He was half drunk on whisky most of the time, didn’t have the wit to see she was so ill.’

  Mum rounded on them both. I don’t think I’d ever seen her so angry. ‘Aye, and who carries that shame? Fiona was our friend once, remember? What did we do to keep an eye out for her little girl? Did Mr McNair feel he could call on any of us?’

  Mum reached in her bag and thrust the car keys in Dad’s hands. ‘I’m walking home,’ she snapped. ‘I need some fresh air.’

  She stormed out of the church and I followed her out into the car park and up the road out of the village. We walked in silence, Mum marching ahead, her shoes click clacking on the road.

  We were almost at the bottom of the farm track when Dad pulled up beside us in the car. We climbed in and he drove us the last bit home.

  ‘Sorry I snapped,’ said Mum. ‘I can’t stop thinking I should have done more for them all.’

  ‘I know,’ said Dad. ‘It’s how everyone else is feeling too.’

  Dad pulled up in the yard and I climbed out of the car. My legs felt like lead. I was so tired.

  Dad caught up with me as I crossed the yard. ‘I’ve just been talking to Euan’s mum,’ he said. ‘Euan’s been quite upset about not seeing you over the summer.’

  I shrugged my shoulders.

  ‘Euan’s always been a good friend to you,’ said Dad.

  I kicked my boots off and pushed open the kitchen door.

  ‘I’ve invited him round,’ Dad said. ‘His mum’s bringing him.’

  ‘I don’t want anyone round.’

  ‘School starts tomorrow,’ said Dad. ‘It’ll do you good to see him before then.’

  I pushed my way past Mum in the kitchen. ‘I’ll be in my room.’

  ‘I told Euan you’d take him fishing,’ called Dad. ‘He hasn’t been all summer. I said you’d take him up on the loch.’

  I spun round. ‘Not the loch! Are you stupid?’

  ‘That’s enough, Callum,’ said Dad.

  ‘But the ospreys, we said we’d keep them secret,’ I yelled.

  ‘You need your friends, more than you think,’ said Dad. ‘Don’t turn your back on them. If you don’t take Euan fishing on the loch, I will.’

  CHAPTER 20

  I stormed upstairs into my room. I was furious with Dad. I didn’t want anyone round. I heard a car engine in the distance and looked out of the window to see a car coming up the farm track. It pulled up in the yard and I watched as Euan climbed out of the back, followed by Rob. He was here too.

  ‘Callum, they’re here,’ Mum shouted.

  I shut the door and pressed my back against it.

  ‘What you doing, Callum?’

  I could hear voices in the kitchen below.

  I changed into a T-shirt and old shorts. The locket fell out of my trousers as I slung them over the chair. I scooped it up, slipped it into the case of my binoculars and put it on top of the wardrobe.

  Mum opened my door. ‘Euan and Rob are here,’ she said.

  I scowled at her. ‘I know. I heard you.’

  Euan and Rob were waiting for me in the kitchen. Euan’s box of fishing tackle and rods were on the table.

  ‘Euan’s looking forward to this,’ said his mum, ‘aren’t you, Euan?’

  I looked across at him and he fumbled with the straps on his fishing case.

  ‘We won’t have much time,’ I said. ‘It’s nearly five already.’

  Mum passed me my rucksack. ‘Dad’ll take you up to the loch in the Land Rover,’ she said. ‘I’ve packed some sandwiches and cake in here for you all.’

  We climbed in the back of the Land Rover and sat in silence as Dad drove us up to the loch. Life jackets and oars were packed around our feet.

  Dad pulled up by the gritty shore of the loch. ‘I’ve got some work to do up here,’ said Dad. ‘So you can take the boat out if you like.’

  I jumped out and scanned the sky. There was no sign of the male osprey and the chick. I knew they would be somewhere around. Hamish said the males and young birds didn’t leave for Africa until mid September.

  ‘Come on, Callum,’ said Dad.

  We all helped haul the small boat into the water. Euan loaded his fishing gear, we jumped in and Dad pushed us off .

  ‘See you later,’ Dad yelled.

  I stared after him to the shore. A few late mayflies danced in the shallows and sunlight sparkled in the ripples from the boat. We spun in a slow arc, bobbing gently in the water. The air was warm and still in the shelter of the trees.

  Euan looked out across the loch. ‘I reckon we’ll have to row out to the far end of the loch,’ he called out. ‘There’s a breeze out there on the water. Good day for a Bristol Black Hopper.’

  ‘The junior fly fishing champion has spoken,’ said Rob giving me a nudge.

  I scowled and turned my back on him.

  Rob grabbed the oars and started rowing, jolting the boat forward.

  ‘You may not be interested in the finer points of fly fishing, Rob,’ said Euan, ‘but you’ll not catch fish if you don’t know what you’re doing.’

  ‘And you’re the local expert are you?’ said Rob.

  Euan flipped open his fishing box. Trays of brightly coloured artificial flies opened out in front of us. ‘You can’t just use any old fly,’ he said. ‘Depends on time of year, weather and all that.’ He picked up a large black fly and examined it lovingly. The hook glistened under the fan of black feathers. ‘This here is a Bristol Black. It’s a hopper. The trout thinks it’s a juicy land insect like a grasshopper blown across on the water. Now this one is perfect for a warm windy day in late summer. If there’s any trout out there, this’ll catch it.’

  I stretched out on one of the seats and stared at the sky, listening to the dull clunk of oars in the rowlocks and gurgle of water under the boat.

  ‘I was a bit scared of Iona, you know,’ said Rob.

  I watched the puffy clouds sail overhead. ‘She could be a bit fierce at times,’ I sai
d. I couldn’t help a smile.

  I looked across at Rob. ‘She could stalk up on red deer,’ I said, ‘get to within an arm’s length. Remember when she caught a trout in her hands that day we first saw her?’

  Rob stowed the oars and let the little boat drift in the breeze. He trailed his hand in the water and stared at his broken reflection.

  ‘Tickling trout is clever all right,’ said Euan. ‘But this, Callum,’ he said standing up in the boat, ‘this is pure art.’ He flicked his rod and cast the fly out across the water. It sailed through the air and landed with a distant plop.

  Rob stretched out on the other seat and closed his eyes. ‘What d’you reckon, Callum? Will it be fish fingers and chips for tea?’

  ‘Laugh all you like,’ said Euan, his back to us. ‘I’ll have a nice fat trout for mine.’

  We drifted slowly across the loch into early evening. The hot peaty air buzzed with a billion insects. Somewhere out on the pastures, a curlew called out and above me swallows and swifts swooped through the air.

  ‘Is there any more food?’ said Rob rummaging in my rucksack.

  ‘I think you’ve eaten most of it,’ I said.

  ‘I’m starving,’ said Rob. ‘Caught any fish yet, Euan?’

  Euan just glowered at him.

  ‘Maybe you’re not casting right,’ said Rob. ‘D’you want me to have a go?’

  ‘The day I need a casting lesson from you, I’ll give up fishing,’ snapped Euan.

  I watched the end of Euan’s rod flick backwards and upwards before he cast the fly across the water. High in the sky above us, the broad barred wings of an osprey sailed into view. It circled, scanning the loch below. It was hunting. It was Iris’s mate looking for fish for its chick.

  Rob and Euan were still arguing with each other.

  ‘Maybe you’re using the wrong type of rod?’ said Rob.

  ‘This is the best rod money can buy. Carbon fibre it is,’ said Euan.

  The osprey beat its wings in a hover motion. It was preparing to dive. I’d seen this before, but each time filled me with the same thrill.

  ‘Maybe you’re using the wrong fly,’ suggested Rob.

  ‘Ah, shut your face, Rob,’ snapped Euan. ‘There’s no trout in this loch. I’ve got more chance of catching a goldfi sh.’ He flicked the end of his rod making the fly jerk across the water.

  The osprey dived. Wings closed. Head forward. Talons out.

  A blur through the sky, it plunged into the water near Euan’s Bristol Hopper. Water sprayed into the air. I expected the osprey to fly straight out, but it beat its wings a couple of times and just sat there in the water, bobbing about and staring at us.

  ‘What the bloody hell is that?’ spluttered Rob.

  ‘Osprey!’ said Euan.

  It shook its head and beat its wings, rising upwards. It struggled, flapping hard, its talons trailing deep in the water. It finally broke the surface not far from our boat and shook itself, scattering a rainbow in the diamond drops of water. Beneath the osprey, grasped in its talons, was one of the biggest trout I had ever seen. It was so close I could see the bright red of the gills flap open and shut.

  Rob almost fell out of the boat laughing so much. But Euan just sat there, open mouthed. For the first time in his life he was utterly speechless.

  Euan Douglas had been out-fished.

  CHAPTER 21

  ‘Osprey!’ said Euan, flopping down in the boat. He watched the osprey carry the trout back to the eyrie where the young osprey pulled it from him. ‘You’ve got osprey nesting on your farm. Why didn’t you tell us?’

  I stared at the ripples of the boat’s wake. ‘They’re rare,’ I mumbled, ‘protected.’

  ‘And you thought we’d go and blab to everyone,’ said Euan. He looked hurt now, angry. ‘You didn’t think you could trust us?’

  I grabbed the oars and pulled hard on them. ‘It wasn’t like that,’ I said.

  ‘Did she know?’ asked Rob.

  I nodded. ‘Iona found them. She saved them … well, Iris that is.’

  ‘Iris?’ said Rob with a laugh.

  ‘Yes, Iris,’ I snapped. ‘Why d’you have to make a stupid bloody joke out of everything?’ I rowed the boat across the loch, the oars slapping in the water. The boat crunched on the gritty shore and I jumped out and looped the rope over a tree stump. ‘I promised Iona I’d look after Iris. And I will. I’ll do it.’

  I stormed off along the path. Rob and Euan had to run to catch up with me.

  Rob grabbed me by the arm. ‘I’m sorry, all right?’

  I turned on him angrily. ‘You said I was a complete loser, remember?’

  ‘I was mad at you. You couldn’t be bothered with us any more.’

  ‘It was the ospreys,’ I said. ‘I … ’ My voice trailed off and I sank onto a damp mossy stone.

  Euan leaned against a tree. ‘So where’s she now? Where’s Iris?’

  ‘Gone,’ I said. ‘She’s heading south for the winter.’

  ‘So that’s it, is it?’ said Euan. ‘You’ll have to wait till next year?’

  I sat there picking the bits of moss and rolling them between my fingers.

  ‘No,’ I said.

  Neither Rob nor Euan said a word.

  I flicked the moss to the ground. ‘I can follow her. She’s got a radio transmitter on her back. I’ll see her journey all the way to Africa and back.’

  ‘You’re kidding me?’ said Rob. He was wide-eyed.

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘Iona and me, we helped fit the transmitter.’

  ‘Now that is cool,’ whistled Rob. ‘How do you track her?’

  ‘On my computer,’ I said.

  ‘Can you show us?’ said Rob.

  I shrugged my shoulders.

  Euan gave me a hard stare. ‘For God’s sake, Callum, we’re your mates. Can’t you trust us?’

  I looked across at them. Dad was right. They were my friends, and right now, I needed them.

  ‘Of course I trust you,’ I said.

  ‘Come on, then,’ said Rob picking up my rucksack. ‘I can’t wait to see this.’

  Back in my bedroom, Euan and Rob leaned over my shoulder as I switched on the computer.

  ‘Iris is in southern France,’ I said. ‘She’ll have to fly over the Pyrenees soon.’

  ‘The what?’ said Rob.

  ‘Pyrenees,’ said Euan, ‘the mountains between France and Spain.’

  I showed them how to tap in Iris’s code so we could find her position and plot it on the maps of Google Earth.

  ‘Look,’ I said. ‘That’s where she was an hour ago.’

  25th August

  19.00 GMT

  Lourdes, South of France

  43°05′08.94″ N 0°05′43.43″ W

  Speed: 26 km/h

  Altitude: 1.18km

  Direction: South

  Total distance: 1771.86km

  Rob took over the computer. ‘Amazing,’ he said. ‘You can see everything she flies over. And look at this.’ He clicked on tiny photo icons scattered over the maps. ‘There are even photos of the places. Just look at these mountains, they’re massive!’

  I pulled out my diary and wrote the coordinates inside.

  ‘What’s that?’ asked Euan.

  ‘A diary,’ I said. ‘I plot her journey in it too.’

  ‘Can I look?’ asked Euan.

  I passed it over and he slowly flicked through all the pages. I’d stuck in some of Iona’s paintings and sketches.

  ‘These are good drawings,’ said Euan.

  I nodded. ‘Iona did them.’

  ‘Can I draw something?’ he said.

  I passed Euan a pencil and let him sketch a picture at the bottom of the page. He held up the finished drawing and showed me.

  It wasn’t as good as Iona’s, but I liked it all the same.

  It was three boys in a boat on the loch, and an osprey catching a huge brown trout from the water.

  CHAPTER 22

  27th August

  07.
48 GMT

  Pyrenees, Spain

  42°45′28.29″ N 0°21′41.68″ W

  Speed: 68.8 km/h

  Altitude: 3.21km

  Direction: South

  Total distance: 1865.23 km

  ‘Iris has left France,’ I said at breakfast. ‘She’s over the Pyrenees right now. I’ve just had a reading.’

  ‘Very nice,’ said Dad, pouring himself a cup of tea. ‘I hope she’s stocked up on croissants for the journey.’

  ‘Dad, that’s not even funny.’

  Mum pushed a bowl of porridge under my nose.

  ‘She’s flying really high,’ I said, ‘at over three thousand metres. She’s going some too. She’s flying at nearly seventy kilometres an hour. That’s some tail wind behind her.’

  ‘Aye, and you’ll need more than a tail wind to get you to school on time,’ said Mum tapping the bowl with her spoon. ‘First day back, you can’t be late. Dad’ll have to give you a lift.’

  Rob, Euan, and I were all in the top class now. One more year and we’d leave the village school for the secondary school twenty miles away by bus. Dad drove me to school and dropped me at the school gates.

  The bell was ringing so I hurried inside to our new classroom.

  Rob flung his bag on the desk next to me. ‘A whole year of Mrs Wicklow,’ he groaned.

  ‘She taught my dad when he was here,’ said Euan flopping in a chair.

  ‘She’s ancient,’ said Rob.

  Euan nodded. ‘My dad swears she’s got mountain troll blood in her.’

  I gave Euan a nudge as Mrs Wicklow strode through the door.

  ‘Good morning, class,’ she bellowed.

  The class fell silent as she turned to glare at the three of us, before turning to write on the board.

  ‘You’ll be pleased to know we’re starting the term with a project on castles and fortified towns,’ she said. ‘We’ll be looking at why they were built and what life was like when people lived there. Work in groups. Find out as much as you can and present a project to the class.’