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He didn’t know but he called her up anyway and asked for a meeting. He set up an appointment to meet with her and eventually went in. She welcomed him to the school and he confirmed, to himself, that she was pretty like in her pictures he’d seen. Yes, she was a tad on the pudgy side, but not enough that it mattered. She still had girlish like looks he thought. He adored that about her. “Now how is it I can help you, Spencer?” He explained his predicament. She listened as he explained himself and as he did he looked directly at her. He never took his eyes off her at all. Once and a while, he compliment something about her or her office. Then he said it. He finally added what he felt he needed to add. “And I am more then willing to do anything, and I mean anything whatsoever, to get to all this accomplished.” She nodded as she listened and considered what he’d said. He didn’t know for sure what to make of it all seeing as he didn’t know her but then he repeated himself again. “And by. He glanced down momentarily, red balaclava with a huge grin. His beard was frosted hard now. She had him in her viewfinder, clicked. He resumed the climb and after twenty minutes they scrambled off the cliff-top, a few hundred yards from the sunset-bathed summit. – Well, that’s you blooded pal, and not a wrong move. She hugged him hard, Well done John. On the summit she pulled out her camera again and they struck poses for each other, rolling in laughter, as the sun sank behind the ridges to the northwest. Dubhchraig, Oss, Lui, serrated shades of grey darkening with distance, and the fiery streaks of horizontal orange throwing the final Cruachan massif into utter blackness. They finished the soup, set off down toward the lochan. Paused again there to pull on headtorches, and as their crampons crunched on the surface of crusted snow, he started singing: – Wull ye go, lassie, go? She took his hand and joined in, so glad to be with him as their arms swung to the rhythm. It was nearly.
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