An Encounter

I walk over the the tussocks of grass the next day in my wellies, which are so not suitable for this type of hill, but they are what I have here, so they will do. Tip is bouncing around in the heather off to my left, quartering back and forth as she follows the scents of wild birds, trying to flush and/or retrieve them. Her energy is boundless, a typical Springer Spaniel.  

I am in my element. 

The purity of the air, the smells from the bog myrtle plants wafting my way each time Tip thunders through a boggy bit of earth (Mum is going to kill me when i return the formerly liver and white coloured dog home, and she is now just a lovely peat stained brown colour). 

 There's enough of a breeze to keep the midges at bay but not so much that it's cold out either.  God its perfect. 

I can spot all the familiar crags and rock faces that Dad had to wrangle myself and Sorley off of as children as we accompanied him "to help" him at work.

 This place is just so indescribable. 

I have been walking for 3 and a half hours when I reach the summit of Creag Storrh. True to form I place my little rock on the cairn left by all those who have visited before me. It's all that people leave and it's perfect. Take only memories leave only footprints is the general motto, that preserves this land.

 I sit on the grassy bank just below the small rocky incline that led to the cairn, with Tip sat beside me. I know you aren't supposed to have favourites, but out of Dad's dogs, Tip just gets me. Shes my girl when I'm here, and she takes care of me in her own loopy way.

"Oi, you get your muddy backside off me madam" I laugh as she decides my legs are more comfortable than the grassy plain. "I do not need to stink as well you, know." I say.

As I shove her off, she responds by jumping up excited and then proceeding to shake and splatter me from face to foor in flecks of peat and muck.

"Ahhh, you terror" I squeal, jumping up and laughing at the mad dog." I take it that means its time to head back then Tippy? Come on we will head towards the lodge and around the loch to clean you off a bit. Or Mum will make us both sleep in the kennel. Yes she will! Uh huh!" I laugh as Tip is bouncing up and down on the spot raring to go again. 

As we head back down the hill I spot the red deer Hinds and calves grazing off on a grassy slope spotted with cotton grass flowers blowing in the breeze. How could anyone want to be anywhere else? This is why Dad protects his mountain so fiercely, sometimes even from the estate owners themselves, who with each new generation get a touch trigger happy when it comes to stag season. Forgetting they are supposed to shoot to preserve the herd by culling the weak (by genetic malformation or weight condition) rather than for trophies to mount on the lodge walls.

Another 2 hours and thirty minutes later, ( it never seems to take as long coming down as it does going up -which may be more of a testament to my fitness level than anything else.) I am rounding the corner out of the forestry towards the lodge when Tip starts growling. 

I then see it, the sleek blue Porsche that can only mean one thing. Oliver flipping Hunsberg is here. Current heir and complete Daddy's boy to the current estate owner. Thinks he is God's gift to, well just about anything and everything.  He is the epitome of a spoilt little brat. I hate him. But mainly because (and the reason for Tip's growling ), after a grouse day when I was twenty-two and he twenty-three, he let's say attempted to take advantage of me after I had one too many or five too many ports. Despite my clearly telling him to 'get his fucking hands off me'. 

Thankfully Sorley was walking the dogs home when he had to chase Tip who had run off and found us. She gave Oliver a pretty impressive scar that day. Which he deserved along with the beating Sorley gave him. Dad doesn't know, because Sorley and I decided we like him out of prison, and Tip wasn't dragged into it as a dangerous dog, well because we had more on him to get the police involved than he did on us. 

It was four years ago but his face around here makes my skin crawl. He is the only blight on my perfect home,  but thankfully I see him myself so few and far between it is easy to forget he even exists. 

Unfortunately now, is not one of those moments as he is headed my way, to play the polite estate owner's son. Smarmey git!  

"Diana" he shouts, as he jogs over towards me "How the devil are you?" 

Yuck, even his voice makes my skin crawl, and to think we used to be friends once.

"What do you want Oliver?" I ask dead pan in response, without slowing my pace. As Tip's growling increases in volume and her teeth start to show in a snarl when she decides he is close enough.

"Oh come on Diana, let bygones be bygones. I am only enquiring as to how you are? Tell.me hows the vet world going?"

"Oliver, cut the crap, you are about as interested in my life as I am in seeing you around the estate. Not

 At. All. So what do you want? Hurry up before I can't stop Tip from going in for seconds I sneer " pointing at the scar showing on his forearm, revealed by his rolled up sleeve.

He blanched at that, before recovering quickly "I dont know, I think it makes me look quite rugged, most ladies love it" he sneers back at me, revealing his true self with his hidden meanings.

"Goodbye Oliver." I dryly remark as I am moving past the larder, towards the sheds. 

"Ok, Diana, I'm sorry" he laughs, "there can we be friends again now. I have apologised. Besides I thought you would want to stay on my good side after I told you my news."

Prick, thinks he can throw me a fake apology and bait me into playing his game. 

I know myself and i know my temper, i am a cliche on legs. Red hair, and a red temper to match. So i keep walking, because if I stop I will leave him in a puddle of his own piss and blood after the beating I have wanted to give him for the last four years. 

Because after that incident,  I learned to defend myself. No way would I chance needing saved again. Feeling so vulnerable. No I would kick his scrawny little ass and it would feel bloody brilliant doing so, till I was arrested and Dad lost his job that is. So, I keep walking.

Then with one sentence blood runs cold.

"I'm inheriting the estate early from Daddy"

No. No. No Come on. The falter in my step is enough for him to jog to catch up knowing he has my attention well and truly now. Shit, this is all I need.

He smirks at me and that's all.it takes to flare my temper again. I start taking deep breathes, and clenching my fists but it's not working so well at the moment.

"Diana, you should let me take you to dinner, I am here all summer to arrange more of the take over, see what should stay and who should go. So, it will give us plenty of time to become reaquainted" he smiles. "Though maybe leave Tip,  At. Home."

His double meaning is pretty clear there. Give in or your Dad will lose his job. It's a shame for his hopes I am not a naive little girl, who believes in his absolute power bill shit. 

I turn to him and to be honest I am impressed with the level of serenity I have managed to encapsulate on my own face, because my blood is boiling right now. I step towards him as does Tip still growling away forcing him to retreat further towards the red larder door. 

When his back hits it and his face is slightly unsure, as I say "Tip, wait" and he smiles as she stops dead.

"Diana I have to say I like this side of you much more" he remarks thinking hes won some prize. Ha.

I look demurely away as if I am shy for a second, then turn to him having adjusted my footing ever so slightly. My face is contorted with all the anger and hatred I have towards this man, he is scum. Selfish and greedy, caring only for himself my first hits the door beside his head lightning fast splintering a hole in the wood beside his face. Oh, why couldn't it have been his face. 

He is frozen in shock and fear as I say "if you ever so much as glance in my direction again, it wont be the dog you have to worry about Oliver."

He is still standing there as I walk away towards the loch to let Tip enjoy a swim. She deserves it. Such a good girl after all. 

The cold water on my hand is soothing, as I stand ankle deep in the loch and try to rinse some of the blood off, before heading home to pick splinters out my fist. Tip is splashing about beside me refusing to leave my side after our encounter. Damn it this stings. Hopefully Sorley is about to help and not at his own cottage in the village,  because if Dad sees my fist like this I'm screwed..

I manage to eventually send Tip out for a small swim, as we head further home  which thankfully lifts most of the filth off of her. Although not so much me. I still look like a human, dalmatian cross breed thanks to dippy Tippy and her antics. I round the bend and thankfully the heavens are smiling on me because not only is my big brother here he is in the garden on his phone. 

His eyes light up as he drinks in my wild speckled experience,  laughter lighting up his face until he spots my by now rather bruised and bloodied hand.

"Shit Dee, what's happened?" He asks, rushing over all concerned.

I wince as he lifts my hand to inspect the damage.

"Would you believe fell?" I ask looking up at him innocently

He scowls at me and re examines my hand "into painted red wood?" He asks pulling a small piece of the splintered red door from my fist.

"Aowch!" I snap pulling my hand back, as Tip comes rushing over to my side like glue

"What happened Dee?" Demands Sorley " I can tell between the dog and your fist something is up, spill it!" He whisper shouts. A technique we developed as kids to argue without alerting Mum and Dad.

I sigh and relent, hating the pity I know will fill his eyes .

"Fine I may have had an encounter with Oliver and ended up punching the larder door." I pause slightly as he raises his eyebrows knowing I'm hiding something. 

He narrows his eyes waiting. 

"Fine his head was next to where I punched" I relent, quickly adding before he yells at me for losing my temper "but in my defence he did also pretty much say if I didn't have sex with him he would sack Dad as hes taking over the running of the estate from his father. Like he would be able to run the estate in any case with or without Dad" I mumble at the end.

"He. Said. What?" Sorley has a death glare in his eyes. Yup he is going to kill Oliver one of these days.

"Look , you know what happened.  But you also know I'm not that defenseless young girl anymore, and now so does he . Believe me. His face was a picture. But I need you to help me clean my hand before Dad sees it. Please Sorley I dont want him to know, you know how protective he is" I beg him.

"Fine" he relents letting go of his murderous intentions.  "But just so you know, I want to know word for word what that little fucker said, and just how close he was to pissing himself when you let that temper loose" he smirked. My proud big brother ladies and gentlemen. 

"Okay okay." I laugh. As we head inside the house