Charlie and the Pool, and a problem with foxes
Our house sits not far from the quiet, leafy banks of the River Wear in County Durham. The river isn't so close that there's a risk of flooding. We're up a hill and there's a huge drainage ditch between us and certain doom so we're safe so long as it doesn't rain for forty days and forty nights and there are no epic floods of Biblical proportions. The only real danger from the direction of the river seems to be Poachers, who seemingly do not respect the large and imposing sign I recently installed which reads "Trespassers will be tied to a chair and made to listen to my husband's poetry." Doesn't seem to bother them in the slightest. Scares the crap out of me though.
A couple of weeks ago, I was out in the early hours hunting slugs (the bane of any horticulturalist) and I became utterly convinced I saw either a small fox or a large otter, I know not which, scuttling across the lawn.
I don't mind either species so long as they leave my garden alone and don't shit in the borders or dig holes in my turf. I know they have Otters further downstream at the Wildfowl Trust so I wondered if said critters had migrated further upstream.
To satisfy my curiosity, Hubby leant me one of his fancy "Spy Cameras", a neat little battery-powered digital gadget that you can hide away in some quiet recess and it will happily photograph anything that wanders into its field of view, be it an Otter, a Fox or even a Poacher.
I took a walk down to the river bank just before dusk and set the device up at the base of a large Ash tree. The field of view was pretty good, tilted slightly down towards the water and a little upstream in the direction of my neighbour's boundary fence. After that, I left it to its own devices and went indoors to watch the first instalment of Picard, Series 2.
I returned to the same spot the following morning, retrieved the camera and scurried off to the office where I shoved the camera's SD card into my MacBook and waited for the images to transfer.
I didn't see anything unusual on first inspection. Just a couple of water voles - big ones - and two Roe Deer. I sort of expected the deer to put in an appearance because they're just a bunch of drama queens but, of the otters and the foxes, there was no sign.
I skimmed through the rest of the images looking for anything further of note and...
"Huh?" I whispered to myself. "Oh... my..."
The camera had recorded a short movie depicting a figure, pale and skinny, wearing what appeared to be a bathrobe of some description, heading down towards the water's edge.
It's my new neighbour, Charlotte or Charlie to her friends.
Charlie and her husband, Lucas, moved in just after Christmas. They're nice people. We get on well and they're a whole lot nicer than the total arse hole who used to live next to us.
However, I never took Charlie to be the naturist type, or in the slightest bit interested in getting in touch with nature by way of a freezing cold dip in a semi-tidal river.
And, yeah, you're ahead of me. Charlie suddenly divests herself of the bathrobe and the camera is treated to a rather fuzzy view of her naked bod. And the view is, frankly, rather nice. Small boobs. Big hips. Long legs. A narrow waste and a nice little patch of fuzzy hair on her belly. A girl after my own heart it would seem.
Charlie strides purposefully into the water so that it's lapping up her thighs before dropping out of sight beneath the surface. The camera records her head silently bobbing around in the water but little else until she exits the river a matter of minutes later. Yes, she has a nice, well rounded rump, too.
Unapologetic voyeur that I am, I could get to like this spying lark.
I'm utterly elated, partly because I've seen some unanticipated naked flesh but also because I sense that I've found a kindred spirit. That said, the idea, the very concept of swimming around in that freezing water is just not for me. It's colder than the my mother-in-law's stare and, frankly, what goes into the river further upstream may not be entirely safe. This is why we installed a pool two years ago.
Okay, so... the next step. Do I let Charlie know that her secret morning ablutions have been caught on camera? How do I let her know she's been discovered? Will she mind? Will it cause a rift?
I decided that honesty really is the best policy and sent her a quick text message.
"Hey, we installed some wildlife cameras on our river bank yesterday. It spotted more than just a couple of water voles. :) "
I sent the message and waited. Her response was just a simple smiley and, ten minutes later, she arrived on my doorstep. I thought she might. I'd even put the kettle on.
The good news is that she's all fab and groovy with the whole thing and, obviously, asked to see the captures. I'm at pains to point out that we're the only two people to have seen them. My husband, Alex, is out for the day and Soovi, our au pair, is busy with the upstairs bathrooms so this is strictly between us.
Ten minutes later and the coffee is hot and sweet, and there are plenty of biscuits going around.
"So," says Charlie. "Did you spot anything else with your spy camera?"
"Two Roe Deer," I said. "And a couple of angry looking water voles but nothing else."
"Have you tried swimming in the river?" asks Charlie. "It's rather invigorating."
I laugh. "I have," I replied. "The last thing I'd call it would be 'invigorating'. Fairly well froze my tits off. "
"I thought you'd enjoy it..."
"So did I... until I did," I said. "And it's not for me. And the water? It's not that clean."
"Really? No?"
I told Charlie about the storm overflows we'd experienced when we first moved in and how the river banks were strewn with all sorts of yucky detritus.
Charlie shook her head in disbelief. "Well, I doubt very much that I'll be swimming in that again... Ugh."
"And, besides," I continued. "Why would I swim in the river when we have a pool?"
"A Pool? Where?" asks Charlie.
"Hidden, in plain view," I replied. "Behind the South Lawn Hedges."
"I'd never have guessed."
"That's the idea," I said, smiling.
Of course, I knew what her next question would be. "Can I see it?"
I led Charlie towards the hedged-off area that conceals the Pool Room.
The title 'Pool Room' is a little ambiguous. The 'room' itself is a glorified roll-off shed, meaning it's on rails so you can roll it back at the flick of a switch. Great if you want to swim under the stars, if the need arises (and it does) but mostly I just leave the roll-off in place to keep the cold out.
"Crikey," said Charlie. "I never knew."
"That's the idea," I said. "You can swim here and nobody can peer in. It's completely private."