Squirrel Cabin was as inviting as a fridge when Travis walked in after leaving Freya’s cottage. He turned on the lamps, drew the curtains and lit the wood burner, thinking of how he could still have been in bed with her.
His excuse was a genuine one: he did have a dawn shoot and he did need time to prepare his equipment. However, if he had stayed, there was a good chance he’d never have made it out of her cottage in the morning.
It had been better to walk away while he could.
Too late for that, mate.
That inner voice telling him he should never have agreed to the no-strings sex pact at all was a bloody nuisance. Dismissing it, he started laying out his equipment for the shoot and reminded himself how lucky he was to be back in his favourite location in the whole world.
It was one of his reasons for returning: to be within touching distance of familiar spots on days like this. Many professionals would kill to have such locations on their doorstep: the landscape would be some compensation for spending a lonely night with only the owls for company.
He didn’t want to dwell on what he was missing, so he turned his thoughts to her idea about Seb. It was hard enough dragging himself out of bed at four a.m., let alone luring his brother from his pit to go up the fells in the snow.
Travis reminded himself of Freya’s words: It’ll never work unless you try, when he followed Seb into his favourite lakeside cafe on the Sunday morning. He’d found out that his brother had the Monday off and hoped he’d have nothing planned. Now, all he had to do was persuade him to get up at six a.m. and set off into the icy dawn.
‘Why am I suspicious that you asked me here?’ Seb said, spearing a Cumberland sausage on his fork. ‘I’m a big believer that there’s no such thing as a free breakfast.’
‘In this case, there is,’ Travis said, shaking ketchup on his own fry up. ‘This is a peace offering. I was wrong to trick you into going to the open mic night and I wish I hadn’t been so arsey about you and Dad.’
‘My God!’ Seb gasped, mid-way to popping the sausage in his mouth. ‘My brother admits he’s wrong! Let me record this so I know it really happened.’
Travis laughed. ‘No need. I was out of order. He bit into a piece of bacon, and then sighed appreciatively. ‘I’ve missed this place so much. There’s nowhere does a brekkie like here, and nowhere with a view like this. I wish I’d brought my camera …’
An hour later, to Travis’s amazement, the plan had worked – and Freya had, once again, been proved right.
‘Remind me again, why the hell I agreed to this?’ Seb grumbled from deep within the bundle of layers Travis had provided.
Smiling to himself, Travis drove through the darkness towards the spot he’d chosen on the fellside above the lake. ‘Bro, this is going to be one of the best experiences of your life.
Seb raised a sceptical eyebrow. ‘Of my life?’
‘Today will be worth it, I promise,’ Travis said, switching the focus onto the shoot. It needed to be fun, to try and engage his brother’s attention. He needed to concentrate and not be thinking ahead to dinner that evening, and what might be for dessert, if he and Freya even made it that far.
‘Are you sure this isn’t some scam of yours and you’re taking me to audition for some bloody TV talent show?’
‘You’re not that good.’
‘You cheeky sod! I’m better than a lot of the chancers on those shows!’ Seb declared, giving Travis fresh hope. Did he detect a hint of professional pride in his brother’s tone? There must be some sense that he’d been a good musician once – and still was.
Eventually, the car warmed up and Seb deigned to take off his trapper hat. It was still pitch black so Travis handed out a head torch.
Seb put his hat back on and strapped on the torch, swearing ripely. ‘It has to be minus five up here.’
‘Minus six according to the car,’ Travis said, unloading gear from the back seat. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll soon be warm.’ He handed Seb a camera backpack.
‘Whoa! It weighs a ton!’
‘Don’t drop it! There’s ten grand’s worth of kit in there!’
‘Ten grand? Fecking hell!’
With a grin, Travis patted Seb’s arm reassuringly. ‘Chill. You’ve got my old gear. I wouldn’t dream of letting you near the new stuff.’
‘Thanks for the vote of confidence.’ Seb slipped the foam straps over his shoulder and winced. ‘You’re crazy, Travis. Have I ever told you?’
‘Shut up and follow me and be careful. If you fall off the path and I lose my gear, I’ll never forgive you.’
The path up to the tarn wasn’t that steep, and not at all exposed: Travis would never have put his brother in danger but it was slippery underfoot.
‘Warm enough, now?’ he said.
Seb pulled a face. ‘I’m sweating.’
‘That’s why I don’t put too many layers on before I set off. You soon get toasty carrying all the stuff. I keep an extra layer in my bag to put on when I’m hanging around.’
‘Now you tell me.’
It was hard work, tramping over rough ground by torchlight, and they were both breathing hard by the time they reached the tarn itself, their breath forming clouds in the chilly air.
‘Wait here a sec.’ The sky was changing from velvet black to indigo in the east. He pointed to a small flat area that gave a great view of the lake.
‘This is the blue hour. Right. Let’s find a good spot and get ready.’
Seb finally stopped grumbling and started to take an interest in the camera settings and technicalities. Travis had known it was impossible for him not to give it his whole attention but had been worried he might be bored. However, he seemed to take mastering the technicalities to be a challenge. Travis couldn’t care less what pictures Seb took.
Soon, Travis himself became lost in the moment, capturing the light changing minute by minute – sometimes second by second.
‘Look!’ he whispered, pointing out a small herd of fallow deer who had wandered out of the woods to graze on the lower slopes of the fells. ‘Now the sun’s rising, this is the golden hour, the perfect time to get pictures of wildlife and landscapes.’
Shutters whirred and clicked as he and Seb fired off hundreds of pictures of the deer, the sunrise and the lake.
An hour had passed by and Seb was flagging so Travis deployed the hot coffee and bacon butties he’d made the night before. They were cold but two ravenous young brothers weren’t going to mind about that.
‘Thanks.’ Seb munched away, seemingly lost in thought.
Travis didn’t blame him. Although it was bitterly cold, he wouldn’t have wished to be anywhere else in the world at that moment, except in Freya’s bed. Standing by Seb’s side, watching the sun rise over the lake with snow lying on the fell tops, and the light burnishing the bracken with flame – all reflected in the mirrored surface – was awesome.
He didn’t care if he’d got anything worth using in the gallery; he just wanted to share the moment with Seb and try to build a relationship he’d neglected so woefully over the past decade. A pang of guilt seized him. It had felt so right to leave everything behind after Freya had hurt him, but he’d ended up abandoning his whole family to lick his wounds.
He was as guilty of running away as she was from him, and from Jos Beresford.
He had to find out why she’d called off their wedding so suddenly but what business was it of his? She’d insisted – begged – for no emotional attachment so why would he pry? What difference could it possibly make if he knew the reasons? Perhaps she’d left Jos for the very reason she didn’t want to get involved with him. She was terrified of commitment.
Seb broke into his thoughts. ‘Haven’t been up here for years,’ he said. ‘The last time was with Carl Hazelmere. We climbed the fell, came up here for a sneaky smoke of something.’
‘Carl?’ Travis recalled the stocky boy with ginger curls, at one time inseparable from Seb. The guitarist in Seb’s band and worth ten of some of the guys Bree said Seb had been hanging around with. ‘Is he still living in Bannerdale?’
‘You’re joking. He did a music tech degree at uni. Said I could stay with him any time.’
‘And have you?’
‘He asked me a couple of times. I went once but I never went back. I felt out of place. His mates were …’
‘Snotty with you?’ Travis said, bristling on his brother’s behalf.
Seb snorted. ‘I think I could have handled it better if they had been stuck-up gits. No. They were all very polite, trying to include me in everything: the pub, a meal, a gig. Carl was super eager to make sure I was having a good time, but … it wasn’t their fault. It was me. I was the miserable bugger. “You seem a bit aloof,” he said to me.’ Seb wrinkled his nose. ‘“Aloof”. I’d never heard him use a word like that before. If he’d called me bolshy or salty, I’d have laughed.’
Travis almost smiled. He could picture the exchange, the whole weekend. He knew how it felt to be patronised, however unintentionally. ‘Carl wouldn’t have meant anything. He was a good lad, like his family. I remember his mum was a dinner lady at school and his dad worked on the lake ferry.’
‘He’s changed. I’ve seen his Facebook posts. He joined some classical group.’
‘I didn’t know he could play the piano?’
‘He could play just about anything. Him and his “group” make TikTok videos now. They wear tuxedos and do covers …’
Travis burst out laughing. ‘I can’t see Carl in a tux.’
‘He looks a right tit,’ Seb sneered. ‘They get loads of views though. You wouldn’t believe it.’
‘I would. It’s the same with photographers. You can make a living just off YouTube tutorials. I’ve done a few myself so don’t knock it. You should try TikTok. Look at all these music influencers.’
‘I don’t want to be “famous”. I just want to …’ He suddenly checked himself and clammed up.
‘Just want to be what?’ Travis said.
Seb shrugged then shook his head. ‘Don’t try to cure me, bro. I thought today was about you, not me.’
‘It’s about both of us,’ Travis said briskly, getting to his feet. ‘I think we’ve got enough shots of the lake. Do you want to try and find some more wildlife?’
Travis led Seb towards the woods they’d passed on the way up. ‘If we’re in luck we might see a red squirrel,’ he said, directing Seb towards a small clearing in the woods. ‘There’s a feeder up there and we might catch them scampering in the trees or even on the ground but we’ll have to be patient.’
‘I’m up for it,’ Seb said, lifting his lens to show readiness, much to Travis’s amusement.
‘We can hide behind that bush. See if we get lucky.’
‘I wouldn’t bet on it, with me along,’ said Seb archly.
‘Come on, let’s put the tarp down and get into position and from now on, be very quiet.’
‘Told you …’ Seb murmured half an hour later. ‘I’m a jinx.’
‘Shh …’
‘It’s freezing and I’m numb with cold,’ Seb whispered, rolling over to face Travis. ‘Let’s call it a—’ He stopped abruptly, his eyes on stalks. ‘Oh. My. God,’ he mouthed, raising his lens slowly. ‘There’s one behind you.’
Hardly daring to breathe, Travis rolled over to face the same way as Seb. There, nibbling on a hazelnut under a tree, was a red squirrel. It had chosen to sit in a pocket of snow and looked impossibly cute.
‘My hands are shaking,’ Seb whispered.
‘Take a breath …’
Despite all his experience, Travis still felt the spike of adrenaline when a wild creature came in view of his lens. It might only be a red squirrel, but the excitement of seeing a beautiful – and increasingly rare – animal always gave him a buzz. He was past the stage of shaky hands but he was anxious for Seb. He wanted his brother to get a shot of the squirrel more than he wanted to capture it.
Eventually, the squirrel scampered off up a tree.
‘Wow.
‘Let’s take a look at what we got. You first.’
Seb scrolled through the images on his camera screen. Some were out of focus, others had cut half of the animal off. He groaned in disappointment.
‘Man, I was shaking like a leaf. For a freaking squirrel.’
‘Keep scrolling.’ Travis prayed silently that at least one frame would be in focus.
After the first few shots, the images gradually sharpened as Seb had relaxed a bit and got his eye in. Several had the creature looking straight at him, and with a nut in its paws. Then—
‘Bingo,’ Travis declared.
There in perfect clarity, was the squirrel staring right at the camera, its deep red coat a vibrant contrast with the snow. The image was so sharp, you could see every hair in its distinctive tufted ears and the tiny claws on its paws as it held the nut.
‘Well done, bro. This is a great shot.’
‘I got lucky,’ Seb replied, zooming in and out of the image as if he couldn’t believe it was actually on his camera.
Travis laughed. ‘Believe me, there’d be no wildlife photography if someone didn’t get lucky once in a while.’
‘So, I’ll soon have it on the cover of Countryside calendar?’ Seb said jokily.
‘Better than that. I’ll make it into a card for the gallery.’
Seb lowered the camera and pointed at Travis. ‘You are so funny.’
‘What’s funny?’
‘You almost had me there.’
Travis was saddened and angry. Their upbringing – their father’s behaviour – must have affected Seb too, and now his confidence was at such a low ebb that he couldn’t believe any praise. ‘I’m not having you on, bro. I mean it. That photo is gold. I’ll sell lots of them to people who come in and don’t want to buy a big print – or can’t afford to – they’ll buy that card. Maybe two or three. One for them, one for a friend, they’ll take it home, and get a cheap frame and keep it and think they’ve nabbed a piece of artwork. They’ll order it online too.’
‘In that case I should ask for royalties.’
‘I’ll give you a cut.’
Seb snorted. ‘Now, I know you’re joking!’
‘Well, you’ll have to see if I am when you get your fifty pence.’
‘Fifty pence!’
‘Probably more than that. I’ll definitely give you a share of what I sell on prints from my website but there’s no point putting it on a big stock photo site. The market is saturated. Professionals have to make most of their money from leading tours and retail sales now.’
‘You are serious.’
‘Yeah. I wish I’d taken it – and the number of times I say that is rarer than unicorn droppings.’
Travis meant every word. In one way, Seb had been fortunate today but Travis couldn’t be happier. They stayed another half an hour but the squirrel didn’t return and the light was fading. Travis could have stayed all night but Seb’s patience was worn out. There was no more luck and there might never be for him. Luck really was preparation meeting opportunity.
Despite his heavy camera equipment, he felt as if his mental load had been lightened a little. He hadn’t seen Seb so at ease with himself since his arrival in Bannerdale. With Seb still buzzing from the day, they walked down to the car and he drove home.
‘Fancy a brew?’ Travis said as he neared the turn-off for the track to the cabin.
‘I would do but I think you might be happier on your own.’ He gestured to a car with a Cottage Angels sign, turning into the track that led to the cabin. ‘That’s Freya’s car, isn’t it?’
‘Maybe,’ Travis replied as casually as his could, while his pulse had quickened. ‘She must have come to um, change the sheets.’
Seb raised an eyebrow but said no more. ‘I need to get home, have a quick kip and a shower ready for my late shift. Today wasn’t as boring as I thought it might be,’ he said with a twinkle in his eye. ‘And I’m expecting to be able to pack in work when those photo royalties start rolling in.’
Travis rolled his eyes. ‘I’m glad you enjoyed it but take my advice: don’t give up the day job yet.’
A minute later, Travis hurried from his car into the cabin, wondering why Freya was there. He hadn’t arranged to meet her. Nonetheless, excitement rippled through him at the prospect of seeing her again. The lights were on in the sitting room and bedroom.
‘Hi there! It’s me!’ Abandoning his gear on the floor, he strode into the bedroom.
Freya was tugging a pillowcase from a pillow, a canvas linen bag on the floor next to her.
‘There’s no need to do that,’ he exclaimed, dashing forward to help. ‘I can make my own bed and wash the sheets. I don’t want you to wait on me.’
Freya laid down the pillow, with the case half on. Her cheeks were pink after coming in from the cold, and she’d never looked lovelier. She smiled. ‘They need to take these to the professional laundry anyway. The housekeeping team are busy with Christmas prep so I thought I’d do it while I was here.’
He knuckled his forehead. ‘I hadn’t realised it was changeover day.’
‘It’s fine. You looked like you’ve been doing far more interesting things than stripping beds. Seb seemed happy.’
‘Yes … that was a great idea you had. I took him up into the high woods on Kirkstone Fell. He got a great shot of a red in the snow. He’s buzzing.’
‘That’s great. I’m pleased.’
He pulled her into his arms. ‘Don’t change the bed.’
She laughed softly. ‘It needs doing …’
‘Sure, but not by you and definitely not now.’