Chris and Eric pulled into the car park adjacent to the large lake they had come to fish.
A day earlier they had travelled a hundred miles to reach this venue, and then spent the night in a Travelodge, they’d played poker in the evening. Charlie had been amazed when Eric had produced that red Ace of Hearts on the last hand to beat his three Kings. To soften Chris’s mood they’d had a few drinks, mainly beers but Chris had also had a gin and tonic. Odd then, that they didn’t have a hangover of any description the next day.
They chose a pleasant swim near the Church and erected their two-man bivvie in readiness for a three day session. Closing the zipper Chris said:
“Let’s set the rods up.” A few minutes later they were fishing. They had the radio on quietly, Chris liked jazz and Eric preferred heavy metal so there had to be give and take on both sides. At ten o’clock the church bells started ringing, Eric said:
“I used to go to Church, I always liked to hear a Psalm on Sunday, it gave me a lift.” Chris said he always liked to have a lie in on Sunday, except when he was going fishing.
At lunchtime they had sandwiches with cheese and ham in. Now the pubs were open they decided to have a quick beer at the Angel Inn next to the church. However, it was full and they were waiting ages. Eric muscled his way to the bar belligerently, looking to complain but the barmaid offered such promise of pneumatic bliss that his temper rapidly disappeared. After the beer the two of them returned to the fishing with renewed energy. “Chris was the first to catch; a nice fish of about eight pounds; much bigger than the tiddler the cat fishing in the margins had pawed out nearby.”
“One up for the maestro” uttered Eric “We need a few more of that calibre.” A minute later his bite alarm went off and he netted a similar looking fish.
That was it for the first day. In the evening they played cards and once again Chris thought his hand was invincible. A knave of diamonds from Eric completed an unlikely full house; they finished their crisp ration for the day and went to sleep. The next morning there was a new car in the park, an Imprezza Turbo. The driver had already set up in the next swim thirty yards to their left.
“It was a bit quiet yesterday” he told him. “We only had a couple” The new angler told him he’d had a big double here a week ago. He introduced himself as Pete and said he’d be here for a couple of days. The fishing was slow but every now and then one of them would get a bite, so it remained interesting. That evening Chris and Eric went to Pete’s swim and cracked a few beers open. They told him about the barmaid in The Angel, but he said he’d seen her and thought she was a bit chubby! A few hours later, feeling a bit gruff, Eric and Charlie went to sleep hoping for a good day’s fishing the next day.
Chris’s bite alarm went off at 6.30 the next morning. Turning out of his sleeping bag; unzipping the bivvie; tripping up over one of the guy rope spikes; he reached his rod and struck into a good fish. By the time Pete arrived Eric was preparing to land it; the biggest yet, possibly a twenty.
“Brilliant, Chris!” said Pete, “Let’s get the scales.” The dial spun round to register 21lb.
“That’s a personal best for me!” said Chris excitedly and the moment was sealed with a firm handshake from Eric and Pete. Nothing topped that for the rest of the day, a few bites and another smaller fish each; it was time to pack up. Pete wrote down his email address for Eric with a Biro; a ‘cheerio’ between the three of them and the fishing break was at an end.
Andy Scholey© Dec 2009
