Tom adjusted his pack as he set out on his first camping and fishing trip since his eighteenth birthday. As a birthday present His parents had given him a new three man tent to replace his old pup tent. His plan was to stay overnight and try it out.
He had driven to the closest point to the island that could only be reached by boat or across a narrow gravel causeway too small and too soft to allow cars to cross. The island was only a few miles out of town but surprisingly little used by townsfolk.
An hour later when he had set up his camp secured his tent and moved down to a grassy bank to fish, He was surprised to see another person further along the bank. He was disappointed that he did not have the spot to himself but quickly became immersed in his fishing moving backwards and forwards along the bank as he used various flies to temp the rainbow and brown trout that populated this fast running stream.
Playing a nice rainbow he followed it along the bank as it fought his light fly rod. Finally after a battle he landed a four pounder and sank to his knees to unhook, kill and gut it. He was concentrating so hard that he failed to hear the other angler approach.
He jumped when he hear a woman's voice and turned quickly to find an old woman struggling with a walking stick in the soft slope. "That's a fine catch young man" she said with a smile.
"Thank you it's a nice one, it put up a good fight," he replied as he studied her closely.
Holy hell she's ancient, She looks at least eighty he thought to himself. Without thinking he asked "what are you doing out here all alone?"
She smiled at his question, "I can tell by the look on your face you think I'm too old and frail to be here."
"My daughters think I'm mad, but I love fishing. My husband and I used to fish here before he died. I have been coming here on my own since then."
They talked fishing as he prepared an open fire, first boiling the Billy and heating his pan for the fish. He worked methodically filling a thermos flask with coffee and pouring hot water into an old fashioned hot water bottle. "The smell of an open fire and the sizzle of cooking fish is one of life's great joys," she told him as they sipped their coffee.
"There's plenty of fish why don't you join me?" he asked. She hesitated before replying, "I've been watching that storm build up I think I should leave before it hits. I have to cross that slippery causeway and I'm very slow."
"Don't worry I'll help you back to your van," Tom told her as he sat her down on a log and handed her a plate. "It's not every day that I have a lady for company on my fishing trips." She laughed "I thought a young man like you would always have a lady."
As they ate she introduced herself "I'm Olive I'm eighty six." I have seven children, two boys and five girls. I live alone; the girls keep an eye on me, but I rarely see the boys. I fish when ever I'm not involved in the local women's club."
"What's the women's club?" he asked. "It's a club, just like you men have, but it's exclusively for women. I chair the morning coffee club which provides companionship and support for elderly and not so elderly lonely women."
They were both enjoying the conversation when a crack of thunder followed by a savage burst of lightning drew their attention to the fast approaching storm.
"I'm sorry" Tom shouted through the wind, "I was enjoying your company so much that I have left it too late."
"We will never get you across the causeway before it hits." Tom cried as he gathered his gear together and stacked it in the tent.
She did not protest when he insisted on helping her up and led her to the tent. "Get inside out of the wind before the rain gets too heavy," he urged. Tom ran down and gathered her fishing gear just as the rain storm hit. Olive was tense and worried when he returned to check the tents pegs and ropes before he pushed in and zipped down the tents flap.
"You're wet through," she exclaimed. "Get those wet clothes off before you catch your death of cold."
"I've only got a shirt and a pair of jocks that's dry" he moaned, trying to stop her as she stripped down his jocks.
"Stop being silly" she said slapping his arms away and ignoring his protests, "I've seem enough men in my lifetime not to let a flapping doodle worry me." Tom couldn't help laughing at Olive's description of his cock as "a flapping doodle."
"That's better!" Olive whispered as she dried him down and poured coffee from the hot flask.
The tent shivered as gusts of wind and rain drowned out their conversation. Olive on her hands and knees opened his single sleeping bag so they could huddle together with part of the bag between them and the tents sewn in floor, and the rest over their back and shoulders. "Cuddle up," she cried as she pulled him in and held him close.
Her body warmed him quickly and apart from the cold of the tent floor they were snug and dry as the storm raged outside. He was surprised when within minutes Olive went to sleep and started to snore. He lay awake holding her in his arms whilst she slept through the worst of the storm.
Tom woke early; his regular morning piss horn woke him as it pushed hard against Olive's stomach. Thanking god that she was sleeping soundly, he gently untangling his arms and legs from hers and left the tent.
Outside the tent, the storm had petered out during the night, to be replaced by fog and mist. Tom used his pack of fire starters to start a fire and boiled the Billy. The wet wood slowly caught and created some heat along with a lot of smoke. Smoke fog and mist shrouded the camp.
He was drying his clothes when he heard a feeble cry for help. In the tent he found Olive doubled up with cramp, moaning and groaning as she tried to get up. The cold had made parts of her body and legs stiff and hard to move.
Tom pulled her blouse open and used the refreshed hot water bottle to warm her body while he massaged her stomach and legs. He worked gently until the warmth of his massage eased the cramps and he was able to wrap her in the sleeping bag and carry her out to stand in front of the fire. Wiping her face with a warm cloth he held her in his arms whilst he held his hot coffee mug to her lips.
They were still standing holding each other when a police boat roared up to the bank and a young redheaded woman ran up the slope crying "mum, oh mum thank god."
"We though you had drowned when you didn't come home," she said through her tears as the police spoke to Tom. "We saw your smoke and headed straight here" they explained as they bought a stretcher from the boat and carried a protesting Olive away.
By the time Tom returned to town Olive had told her story to the local newspaper, whose story made Tom something of a local hero? After a week of public attention Tom was packing his gear to go fishing when the door bell rang. Opening the door he was surprised to see Olive and her red headed daughter. "May I come in," Olive asked "I want to talk to you."
