Heir to a Title, Chapter 20

Within three days the conservationists concluded that the marten family seemed undisturbed by the presence of the hide. The decision was made to try and install more cameras around and in the tree with a tentative attempt to try and install one inside the den.

The first phase went well and by the mid-afternoon, there were six cameras installed at strategic locations around the glade, the final objective now confronted the observers, how to get an inside view of the den.

Maggie had gone into town with her mum so Callie was alone with the scientists as they debated how to approach the den without too much disturbance. The noise and sound of the aluminium extension-ladders coupled with safety harnesses and other paraphernalia were causing the conservationists some concern. The clanking and rattling of aluminium ladders would almost certainly frighten the Martens away. Callie sat quietly while the observers debated the health and safety issues until they finally concluded the noise would cause too much disturbance and stress to the creatures. The last thing they wanted was to frighten the animals away, or worse, cause them to kill and eat the young. Reluctantly, they called the scheme off for the day and retired to discuss alternative approaches. As they drove back to the house an air of gloom descended on the group for they had so wanted to capture pictures of the babies in the den. These would captivate an audience and make any footage much more marketable for a wildlife series. Callie smiled to herself as she listened to the scientists lamenting the idea of people only being interested in warm fluffy babies.

Back at the house she went into the library and chatted with one of the cameramen as he was packing away an assortment of different cameras.

“Which ones are the video cameras that are triggered be movement,” Callie asked nonchalantly. “I heard them talking about them.”

“These two,” he replied, showing them proudly. “They’re the latest bits of kit and capture superb images.”

Callie fingered the ‘bendy’ necks and realised the actual camera lenses could be squeezed through a hole just one inch diameter.

“Are these like those cameras surgeons sometimes use to look inside you?”

“Well they’re similar but these are slightly bigger. They use a slightly wider lens to give a better, panoramic image,” the cameraman explained.

“They must be expensive,” Callie observed as she picked one up.

The cameraman watched like a hawk to make sure the girl didn’t damage it. However, he knew the cameras to be very robust to withstand the anticipated knocks from close proximity to animal trails and hopefully inside their dens.

“Be careful darling, they’re bloody expensive!” The cameraman smiled. “It'd be more than my job’s worth to lose these beauties.”

“Why the cable sockets?” she asked, “I thought they were battery operated.”

“Not these, they transmit direct to the hide and then to the house. To operate constantly, they have to be connected to bigger batteries or even a generator or main’s supply.”

“Oh was that that little petrol thingy they were hiding in the bracken well away from the hide – and the tree?”

“Yes. It’s called a silent runner. You can stand beside it and hardly know it’s running.”

“Ah! I see, so it won’t disturb the martens.”

The cameraman nodded as Molly appeared with a tray of tea and buttered scones. She smiled at him.

“Is she bothering you?”

“Not at all Your Grace, we’ve had to pack up for today. We don’t want to disturb them too much and tomorrow we have to work out a way to get the cameras inside the den. We’re going back to the hotel soon and we’ll be back tomorrow. Is there anywhere secure I can leave this kit?”

“Yes. We can lock them in the gun room. Callie can you fetch the keys, darling?”

Even as she skipped off to collect the keys a plan was forming in her mind. She would need Maggie’s help. She helped the cameraman store the cameras in the gun room whist asking how they worked. Finally, after afternoon tea and armed with enough information, she phoned her friend.

“D’ you want to have some fun, Mags?”

“You know me sister. Life’s as dull as hell without you around.”

Callie hugged herself as she explained her plan.

“Are you sure it’ll work?”

“Why not? I’ve watched how he connects it together, it’s painfully simple. Each connection will only match with its mate; I suppose it’s so as they can assemble the stuff in the dark or in difficult places.”

“Like oak trees in remote forests at midnight,” Maggie chuckled.

“Exactly, and I know where all the trigger cameras are placed. We can sneak up to the back of the tree easily.

"They didn’t put any cameras on that side cos’ they were short of kit and too afraid to disturb the beasties too much. The hardest part will be laying out the cable back to the generator set far away behind the hide. That’s about two hundred yards away but we’ll have to drag the cable in a wide arc to avoid the trigger cameras.”

“What about the connection to the hide where it transmits to the house?”

“We’ll surprise them with a fait accompli as we present them with two cable connections to plug in.”

“Won’t they see you on their cameras?”

“No. We can sneak around the back and drape some black cloth over them so if they are activated, they won’t show anything. They’ll think the cameras have failed and they won’t repair them until the morning for fear of frightening the martens.”

“Okay, count me in. See you about eleven-ish.”

~~oo000oo~~

And so it was, two riders crept from Denton hall loaded with cameras and cables.

Having played many lonely childhood games of big game hunters and explorers, Callie knew the forest better even than the estate gamekeepers. Midnight found the two riders silently approaching the glade after having ‘blinded’ two of the cameras with black cloths draped over them. Another detour brought them to the edge of the glade that put the huge oak tree between their approach and the line of sight from the hide.

“Can you pay out this cable as I approach the tree, Babes?” Callie whispered as she slipped off her trainers.

“Anything you say, Lieutenant,” Maggie giggled softly.

“Oh and sling these over your saddle. I’ll have to climb bare foot.”

“Pooh! They stink.” Maggie joked.

“Not half as much as the stink there’ll be if we mess this up. Now no more noise, I’ve got to be as silent as the grave.”

“Or a mouse,” Maggie added.

“Quieter than a mouse, Babes, martens catch and eat mice.”

Maggie settled in her saddle at the edge of the clearing and paid out the cable while Callie cautiously walked her horse silently to the ‘rear’ of the tree. Maggie watched as Callie stood easily on her saddle, caught hold of a low branch, swung her legs over the bough then quickly climbed the tree before disappearing into the higher branches where the foliage was thickest.

‘Gosh! She’s good,’ Maggie thought enviously.

Within minutes Maggie watched first the feet then the rest of Callie re-emerge from the dense foliage and silently descend.

Maggie also felt bound to also admire Sandie’s obedience, for the stallion had stood still and silent throughout the whole event, even when Callie placed her feet on his withers and slid gently into the saddle. Then to Maggie’s amazement, Callie slowly backed Sandie back along the exact same approach line without deviating whilst paying out the stiff cable from the large loops hooked over the saddle horn. Thus the horse and rider had remained invisible to the hide and its camera all the time.

Having completed the first part, the next part proved the most difficult. They had to pay out over four hundred yards of cable as they took a wide sweep around the backs of the trigger cameras. Periodically, they had to stop to connect each coil as they paid out the full length.

“Good job we brought the horses,” Maggie whispered, “I’d never have carried all this wire without the saddle horns. Where did you get these western saddles?”

“Some friends came over from Canada and they brought a couple as presents for my dad and uncle before I was born.”

“Well they’re handy for carrying the coils,” Maggie finished thankfully.

Eventually the girls reached the generator and connected the relevant camera leads to the correct sockets.

Finally, it only remained to pay out the leads to the back of the hide and surprise the observers with the precious cable sockets. This time they left the horses by the generator and slithered through the bracken on their bellies to arrive at the hide just as the observers were changing shifts. They watched as the relief pair entered then silently joined them like wraiths emerging from the bracken. They paused and eaves-dropped the observers murmuring quietly in the hide.

“Hi Jason, hi Sally,” the relief pair introduced themselves. “Anything worthwhile to tell?”

“Two of the bloody cameras have gone down,” moaned Jason, the cameraman. “They’re the ones closest to the trunk of the big tree and they give the best shots.”

“Dammit, which ones specifically?”

“Camera seven attached to the hazel tree and camera six on the big beech,” Callie whispered to their astonishment.

Arthur, the relief observer, span around in surprise.

“What the hell are you doing here, and how do you know about the camera fails?”

“Connect these to the console and you’ll find out.”

As she produced the connecting sockets, Wendy, the relief camerawoman, demanded: “Those are Stephen’s new camera cables, they cost a fortune! What are you doing with them?”

“Connect them to your console and you’ll see.”

She snatched them from Callie’s grasp and examined them carefully.

“If you’ve damaged these, there’ll be hell to play. These are for the den camera.”

“Yes. So connect them,” Maggie added to give Callie a bit of ‘back-up’.

Wendy frowned at the young girls as she and Jason connected the new cable sockets and screwed them tight.

“Now switch on,” Callie suggested.

“Why?” Jason demanded.

“Well switch on and if everything works, you’ll see,” Callie persisted.

“Are you trying to tell me -?” But Jason was interrupted by an excited squeak from Sally.

He craned his neck to see an icon of the den interior flickering to life and quickly stabilise as Wendy reached across to adjust the console.

“Bloody-hell girls, you’ve put a camera in the den! How the hell did you do that?”

Callie and Maggie preened themselves proudly as the four adults stared mesmerised at the spectacular images of two adult pine-martens curled up at the bottom of the den.

Finally Arthur turned to the girls.

“Go on; explain; how did you do it?”

Callie began her account: “There’s a short crack going up through the top of the den and into the main fork of the trunk. I saw it before the mummy marten bit me yesterday. When I saw Stephen’s cameras in the library and noted the extended bendy necks, I realised it would fit through the crack and reach down into the top of the den above the entrance. When I got to the big fork above the den, I snaked the flexible camera lens down the hole. As you know, there’s a little battery-powered monitor screen on the camera itself to make sure you’re getting a good image. I checked the screen, adjusted the bendy neck to direct the lenses accurately and the rest is history as you say.

“Oh, and I secured a black plastic rubble bag like a tent over the camera hole in the fork to keep it dry. It’ll also stop some of the rain water seeping down the crack. The kits will be drier from now on.”

“Well you little – what shall I say – genius!” Arthur grinned. “And you didn’t disturb them at all!”

“Not as far as I know,” Callie studied the screen image of the sleeping pair and added. “They don’t look disturbed.”

“Pity we can’t see the kits,” Sally lamented.

“Crikey!” Maggie protested amiably. “You don’t want much do you? Shall I ask them to wake up their kits and give you a comic turn?”

There was a low collective chuckle as Sally turned.

“Well indeed not.” She grinned expansively as she reached out and hugged both girls to her. “You’ve been brilliant.”

She then turned to the camera crew. “Can you transmit them to the house?”

“There’s nobody there, but we are recording everything,” Jason enthused. “They’re brilliant pictures and superb colour.”

“Shall we call Bill, the chief conservationist?” Jane mused.

“Yeah, why not,” Arthur nodded, “it’s not every day you get the first live pictures of Yorkshire’s first known breeding Pine Martens.”

“They might have been breeding here for generations,” Callie suggested, “my granddad always thought so.”

“Well they’re still the first pictures,” Jason declared, “and thanks to you girls. Well done!”

The six sat around watching the pictures hoping for some activity but the marten’s inactivity - whilst being frustrating for the observers - served to confirm that the creatures had not been disturbed.

Satisfied that things were going well, Callie and Maggie left with Jason and Sally while Arthur and Jane settled down to do the graveyard watch from midnight to six a.m.

When the four reached the generator, Jason gave a start as Sandie appeared out of the bracken with Lucy following closely.

“Jesus! That gave me a fright. I thought they were red deer!”

Callie and Maggie grinned patronisingly as Callie remarked in jest: “Call yourself a naturalist and you can’t tell a horse from a deer.”

“Watch it miss know-all, or you’ll get banned from the hide.”

“That’s not fair!” Callie was about to protest further until she saw Jason’s face split into a grin.

“Go on,” he encouraged them. “I’ve got to refuel the generator from the Land Rover. See you back at the house.”

Both girls needed no further encouragement and rode cautiously back to the house depending on the horses to find their own footings. When they returned, Molly was standing at the kitchen door with Jane, Maggie’s mum.

“Where have you two been? We’ve been worried sick!” Molly demanded.

“To the hide to see how it’s going on,” Callie replied confidently.

“You know perfectly well it’s dangerous in the dark. You could fall and nobody would know.”

“But there were two of us and we’ve each got our mobiles.”

“It’s still very stupid. What prompted you to visit the hide? There’s nothing to see in the dark!”

Maggie almost contradicted the old Duchess but caught herself just in time. She quickly corrected herself.

“We just wanted to see what it was like sitting out all night, Mrs Denton.”

Jane Arnold almost choked as she hastened to correct her daughter.

“It’s ‘Your Grace’ to the Duchess young lady, and don’t you forget it!”

Maggie tried to protest.

“But you call her Molly! I –”

Molly smiled and motioned her head.

“Inside! Both of you. You’re filthy! Bath, then bed!”

The pair sullenly trooped inside and obediently complied. They could wait until morning for the full story to emerge.

And it did.

The commotion in the yard woke the children as the television crew and preservation people arrived with over a dozen extra visitors. As they were washing and dressing, Molly Denton appeared with a gaggle of media people plus the camera crews.

“Wait! We’re not dressed!” Callie cried in fear that somebody might burst in and discover her secret.

Molly just managed to stem the invasion of the girls’ bedroom as Callie emerged from the bathroom in her knickers. Maggie had just pulled up her leggings and was reaching for her top.

“Oops! Sorry girls,” Molly apologised as she closed the door behind her so the visitors could not see her granddaughter’s semi-naked state.

“Nana-a!” Callie cried. “Can’t a girl have any privacy?”

“Never mind privacy young ladies! Is this true about the camera?”

Maggie nodded guiltily as Callie turned to complete her tuck and adjust her leggings.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Climbing trees at midnight indeed! You could have been killed!”

Callie turned to protest: “Oh come on Nana! I’ve been climbing trees for years. I’ve even been to the top of the giant Wellingtonian tree at the lakeside.”

“Yes, and Grandpa gave you a good thrashing for doing it.”

“He also said I was very brave –”

“And stupid!” Molly finished.

“Well I wasn’t stupid climbing the oak tree, it was easy. The branches are strong and easy to reach once you’ve got up to the bottom one.”

“And how did you do that?” Molly demanded.

“I stood on Sandie's back. He’ll do anything for me.”

The Duchess wagged her head in despair. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you. Anyway, the pictures are on the monitor in the library, you can explain what you did to the camera crews.”

“They already know, Your Grace.” Maggie confessed. “We told the observers in the hide last night.”

“Well there’re some famous television presenters who want to speak to you. You’re going on television.”

“Who are they Nana?” Callie begged.

“You’ll know soon enough. Now finish dressing - for the outdoors I suggest. They might want to film you by the den.”

“I doubt it Nana, the less tumult around the den the better. They’ve taken enough risks already. Nobody knows what might just cause the martens to ‘up sticks and leave’.”

“Well they’ll want to film you anyway; the presenter thinks it will add to the whole story – two country girls clambering up and down trees at midnight! We’ll be in the stable yard and they can film you saddling up Sandie and Lucy.”

Callie had a sudden brainwave.

“There’s another tree very like the den tree but it’s about three miles away on the other side of the forest. If they want action shots, we can do a replay my climb up to the den on that one. There’s a low branch where we can climb up off Sandie’s saddle just like I did last night. Nobody will know it’s a different tree.”

Molly stared at her grandchild. “Good God girl, you must know the forest better than the game-keeper. Do you know every tree in the woods?”

Callie looked slightly askance at her grandmother’s surprise.

“Not quite but I know most of the deciduous woods and the paths that are not public rights of way; I’ve played there all my life,” Callie boasted proudly. “Besides, I own them, so I should know about them. It’s my duty to protect the land, isn’t that what dukes and duchesses do?”

Molly was secretly glad that Callie seemed to be showing an awareness for the country’s heritage and her responsibility both for it and towards it. She was however, slightly concerned about her granddaughter’s possessive streak.

“That’s enough bragging young lady. I’ve warned you before about that. We’ll see what the presenter says about a replay for the cameras. Now hurry up or all the breakfast will be gone.”

Both girls needed little further prompting and quickly appeared in the dining room to claim their share of breakfast. They were busy eating when the television presenter entered and grinned.

“Your grandmother has just told us of an alternative location where we can shoot some story-line, without material, without disturbing the Pine-martens. Another tree or something.”

Callie looked up from her breakfast and nodded as she finished chewing. She wiped her mouth with her napkin as she had been taught then spoke. “Yes. It’s a long walk though and it’s too steep to get the Land Rovers there without tearing up the woodland. I found it while out riding one afternoon.”

“Not to worry young lady, we often have to walk to remote locations. Shall we go this morning?”

Arrangements were quickly made and Maggie offered to collect another two horses from her farm. When six horses were assembled in the stable yard Callie asked: “Are you all okay with the riding? I thought with all that camera kit and our ropes, it’d be best to use the horses.”

One of the camera crew replied: “I’m not much of a rider but these guys will be brilliant for helping to carry stuff. I’ll just ask somebody to help guide my horse. My hands will be busy filming our approach from horse-back.”

“I’ll do that,” Maggie offered,” she’s my mother’s mare and she’s used to me.”

The party eventually set off at eleven and the horses made short work of the trek. Altogether they walked about four miles and the presenter’s smile spread across his face when they reached the tree.

“This is perfect Callie. A lovely mature oak tree just like the den tree.”

“Will we film the scene now or tonight?” Callie asked. “We did the real thing in the dark.”

“We’ll set the cameras up and leave the cameramen to look after them. Then we’ll return tonight to do the shoot.”

Callie turned sympathetically to the abandoned cameramen.

“Sorry guys. It looks like rain, have you got some food?”

They turned and showed their food packs and tent.

“We’ll be okay. We’ll just roam around here and get some background pictures.”

“Okay. See you around ten,” the presenter replied as the now unburdened horses trotted happily for home.

The weather proved to be kind and the threatened rain held off most of the night. By four a.m., the television crew had got their pictures. Back at the house the conservationists had already got their first pictures of the marten kits and everybody was celebrating the success. As they joined the party and studied the live footage of the bright-eyed kits, the presenter was doubly pleased.

“This’ll make brilliant wild-life footage, just look at their little faces. Who could resist them?” the presenter remarked.

“Well, grey squirrels and nesting birds for a start,” Molly replied, “especially pheasants.”

“We’ll transmit these pictures live to ‘Nature Watch’ starting this morning. Just watch the ratings jump when these little beauties appear on screen.”

The celebratory mood extended until seven a.m., when phones started to ring as arrangements and announcements were made. Callie and Maggie however, went to bed. Two consecutive nights without sleep had left them tired but happy. It was that night that Maggie discovered the full truth about Callie’s transgenderism. She had noticed the unusual ‘bulge’ when Callie had worn loose knickers for sleeping but that morning she finally saw Callie totally naked.

“You’ve actually got a boy’s bits.” She observed whilst feeling surprised that she didn’t feel at all threatened.

“Yeah; everything,” Callie replied very self-consciously.

“Are you going to keep them?”

“I’ll have to if I’m to father an heir.”

“Yeah but do you want to keep them, or would you prefer to become a woman – you know – have the op thing?”

Callie hesitated before admitting: “I’m not sure to be honest. It’s a bit confusing – I mean, sometimes I do and sometimes I don’t.”

“What! You mean you don’t know? That’s weird.”

“No it isn’t!” Callie snapped defensively. “What do you know about it? The transgender thing is humongously complicated and doctors are only now coming to terms with everything. Sometimes I’m quite comfortable being a boy then other times I’m happy being a girl. Most of the time, I’m not even bothered. So there! Put that in your heterosexist pipe and smoke it!”

Maggie took no offence for her curiosity was now truly piqued.

“But what about friends and – you know – partners. Do you like boys or girls?”

Callie paused thoughtfully as she sucked her cheek.

“I can’t say for certain. I haven’t thought about it much. Girls are more fun; you know, to talk to and go out shopping and stuff.”

“What, you mean you prefer girls; you know – sexually and stuff.”

“I think I prefer girls but I haven’t made up my mind yet. When I do decide, you’ll be the first to know.”

“What I want to know is if I’m safe around you.”

“Well you slept in my bed last night and nothing happened – did it?” Callie asked just to be certain.

“Ha! I wouldn’t have been able to find you anyway, it’s that big. But yeah, it’s fabulous bed. Is it, you know, the ducal bed’? Did Queen Elizabeth the First or somebody sleep in it?”

“Flipping 'eck Mag’s, it’s not that old! But yes, it’s the ducal bed. Neither my Nan nor my mum want to sleep in it any more, too many memories for them I suppose.”

“So one day, you might use it as the ‘bridal bed' then?” Maggie giggled.

Callie grinned back.

“Provided the bride doesn’t think there are any ghosts in this room.”

Maggie’s grin turned to concern.

“It’s not haunted is it?”

“Nah, but there’s lots of noises, you know, creaks and groans as the building settles; then there’s usually the wind moaning around the chimney pots when it’s stormy. The sounds could be mistaken for ghosts.”

“So will you get married, you know, father children and stuff?” Maggie pressed curiously.

Callie’s grin turned to a thoughtful frown.

“I have to if I’m to produce an heir. Noblesse-oblige and all that.”

“Ugh! You make it sound like a bloody stud farm.”

~~oo000oo~~