A Family Of His Own by Laurens Stephanie

Author:Laurens, Stephanie [Laurens, Stephanie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
ISBN: 9781925559590
Publisher: Savdek Management Pty Ltd
Published: 2024-03-13T14:00:00+00:00

Naturally, the boys didn’t forget the promise of a fishing lesson.

After lunch, Giovanni unearthed fishing lines and rods and provided a jar of the bait that the locals used. Toby stuffed bits and bobs into a basket, then picked out a rod for himself and led the boys out of the gate and down toward the dock.

Diana followed with Evelyn, who, as usual, was clutching Rupert the Bear.

The stuffed bear had been taken on their excursion that morning, and Diana fully expected that Evelyn’s excuse to return to the villa would be that Rupert was tired and needed to be put down for a nap.

Toby led the boys out onto the dock, and the trio proceeded to sit on the dock’s edge. With their feet dangling above the water, they strung their rods and baited their hooks.

With Evelyn, Diana stood in the shade of the small porch that marked the entrance to the island’s paths and watched the activity on the dock.

Two minutes after the boys’ hooks sank into the lake, Evelyn tugged Diana’s hand. “We need to go back to the villa. Rupert needs his nap.”

Diana smiled at Evelyn’s very serious expression. “Yes, of course.” She called to Toby and, when he glanced her way, signaled that they were returning to the house.

He grinned and waved.

“Come along.” She turned and, holding Evelyn’s hand firmly, started back to the villa.

Left with Roland on one side and Bryce on the other, Toby settled into a comfortable slouch.

He’d instructed the boys in how to string their rods and bait their hooks, and he’d been impressed by how well they worked together. Roland was unquestionably the leader, but Bryce was quick to manage anything requiring physical dexterity, and the pair seemed to accept and play to each other’s strengths. Roland had taken over stringing Bryce’s rod, while Bryce had baited both his and Roland’s hooks.

Toby glanced from one head to the other, amused by how quiet and still the pair were being. He’d warned them that they needed to speak softly so they didn’t scare away the fish.

Given it was the middle of the day, he wasn’t sure how many fish would be tempted by their bait. Hopefully, as the afternoon wore on and the sun slanted more obliquely, they would get a nibble or two.

Whether their patience would stretch to waiting that long was debatable.

After ten or more minutes of silence, Bryce leant closer to Toby and whispered, “How old were you when you learned to fish?”

Toby had to think to come up with the right answer. “Eight.” He met Bryce’s eyes. “The same age as you.”

“Who taught you?” Roland asked.

“One of my uncles. Well, no, he isn’t actually an uncle but one of my father’s cousins. He taught me when we—my brother and sisters—were staying at his house on a holiday.” Remembering the time, Toby went on, “That was in Scotland, and there are a lot of fish in the streams up there.”

The boys looked at the lake.

“More than in the lake here?” Bryce asked.

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