But she was gone. He just caught sight of her retreating figure as she scurried off down the path.
His surprise gave way to disappointment and then to resentment and frustration. He looked down bitterly at his fast-shrinking member and swore. She couldn't have reacted that fast to the noise he'd made when he'd stumbled! Then he heard the other sound again and realized it came from the same spot as before. The bushes were rustling as though something was moving through them. Oh Christ, there was someone else hiding in there.
He hoisted his trousers, hastily retrieved the jacket, and ran off in the opposite direction.
The children called excitedly to each other as they lowered their long-stemmed nets into the murky water. It wasn't very often that their school organized a day out at Epping Forest's Conservation Centre, so it was a special treat for them. All under eleven years of age, not many truly appreciated the lessons on the woodland's abounding wildlife taught by the Centre, but with the ever-growing threat to the natural environment, it was judged to be a worthy aim to inst il in them a respect for nature rather than a deep knowledge of it. That was why the Centre was prefixed with the title "Conservation' and not
"Nature'. Outside pressure from primary schools and colleges whose pupils attended the Centre meant lessons had to be orientated towards future examinations, but the tutors' main purpose was still to make the children more ecologically aware.
Jenny Hanmer was one of the Centre's four tutors, and it was her class that had gathered around one side of the water's edge. Because a whole section of the pond was overshadowed by the forest, the bottom was choked with dead leaves covered with a purple scum due to sulphur bacteria, making its depths very dark and its vegetation restricted to algae and a few clumps of starwort. Nevertheless, the oxygen-scarce water still contained many forms of life: water-lice, tubifex worms and blood worms; mosquito larvae and rat-tailed maggots; pond skaters, water crickets and water beetles. Jenny had described all these creatures to the children in the classroom. Now she wanted her pupils to discover them for themselves in the much bigger, outdoor classroom.
It was exciting for them to 'fish' in this way and even more fun when they studied their samples under a microscope back at the Centre.
"Careful now," Jenny called out to one adventurous nine-year-old whose name she didn't remember, and who was stretching out precariously over the water in order to net an interesting looking insect. She regretted never getting to really know her pupils individually, but it was almost impossible with so many different schools visiting every week, each class made up of twenty-five to thirty-five children. Some of the older groups, those taking "O' levels or CSE exams, would take longer and often concurrent day courses, and it was possible to build up something of a relationship with them; but not with the younger pupils, although she found them more fun.
"It's all right, Miss, I can reach," the boy said, his net extended to its limit.
"Patrick, will you step back!" The sharp command came from the boy's schoolteacher, a small, round woman whose eyes never seemed to agree in which direction to look; Jenny could have sworn she was talking to a boy innocently standing well away from the pond's edge.
The guilty Patrick took a grudging step backwards, disappointment evident in his face. "I won't be able to get it now," he complained.
"Look," Jenny said, pointing at a small insect skimming across the surface of the water. That's a water skater, the one I told you about back in the classroom. We won't be seeing much more of him now the colder weather is on its way."
She smiled as the children followed her pointing finger with their eyes and exclaimed triumphantly when they caught sight of the swift-darting insect. It was fine to talk about such animal life in the detached atmosphere of a classroom, but it certainly added a new dimension when the children could see that Me for themselves in its natural surroundings. Five nets were immediately plunged into the water to capture the startled skater.
"No, children," Jenny said, laughing. We're looking for algae.
Remember I told you about the rootless, flowerless plant? Volvox is what we're after. Let's see if you can spot it."
The children stopped tormenting the insect which had the sense to head towards the centre of the pond.
"Come on, boys and girls, do as Miss Hanmer says," their stray-eyed teacher said heartily. She clapped her hands as if to emphasize the command and the giggling children scattered around the pond's muddy bank.
"Keep to this side!" Jenny called out anxiously.
"Keep to this side!" their teacher instructed.
Thank you, Miss Bellingham," said Jenny, inwardly amused. They're very well behaved."
Miss Bellingham gave a small, self-conscious laugh, both eyes defiant of one another as they singly followed the children running off in different directions. "You have to keep them under control, mind."
Jenny nodded, blinking and shifting her gaze from the teacher's undisciplined eyes. They seem to enjoy coming out here," she said.
"Oh, yes, it's a great lark for them!" Miss Bellingham quickly realized her slip. "And so educational' she added. "How long have you been with the Conservation Centre, Miss Hanmer?"
Jenny had to think hard; the time had flown by. "Nearly a year, I think. Yes, about eight months. I was with the Juniper Hall Field Centre in Dorking before."
"It must be a lovely life, my dear. Very interesting," Miss Bellingham enthused.
"It is, most of the time. I had planned to be a geologist, but I somehow got sidetracked into ecology. I'm not complaining, though."
Jenny dug her hands into her loose-fitting cardigan and looked around, checking that the children hadn't got into any awkward situations.
Miss Bellingham was about to ask another question, her interest aroused by the attractive young tutor, wondering why she should choose what seemed to her an almost monastic existence at the Centre, when a shout from their left distracted her attention.
"Look, Miss, look over there!" One of the children, a coloured boy, was pointing towards the shaded side of the pond. "What's them?"
Jenny and Miss Bellingham looked towards the spot, the rotund teacher's eyes swivelling past and taking several seconds to settle back onto a moving object in the water. "What is it, Miss Hanmer?"
Jenny wasn't sure for a moment; she moved further down the bank for a closer look.
There's three of 'em, Miss," shouted the sharp-eyed boy.
At first the tutor thought they might be water-vole, but remembered that voles usually swam beneath the surface, and rarely in a group like this. These swam in an arrowhead formation.
As they entered a sun-lit area, she saw only their long, pointed heads above the surface, the water barely disturbed by their progress. They ignored the excited clamouring of the children and continued on their way, making for the bank on Jenny's left. The boy who had first seen the creatures picked up a thick piece of rotted bark and hurled it towards the centre of the pond, a point just reached by the three animals.
"Darren, you naughty boy!" Miss Bellingham was outraged by the youth's action. Jenny felt a good clout from the teacher might be appropriate.