Tracy Chevalier - Remarkable Creatures

“Ladies,” he announced, “I have been searching all morning for you, and am delighted to have found you at last.” He put his hat back on, making the white plumes it was trimmed with waggle. His hair was so thick and wavy the hat was in danger of springing off.

I have never trusted a man who leads with his hair. Only a vain, overconfident man does that.

“I am Colonel Birch, late of the 1st Regiment of the Life Guards.” He paused, looking back and forth between us, then settled his attention on Mary. “And you must be the remarkable Mary Anning who has found several ichthyosaurus specimens, is that right?”

Mary nodded, unable to stop staring at him.

Of course, anyone who knew of Mary would also know that she was young and of a low background, and there could be no mistaking me for her, with my twenty extra years etched onto my face and my finer clothes and bearing. Yet I felt the sharp dart of jealousy pierce me, that a handsome man was not striding along the beach for me.

It made me more prickly than I’d intended. “I suppose you’ll be wanting her to find you one, rather like commissioning a print dealer to find you a print to hang on a particular wall.”

Mary shot me an annoyed look, for such rudeness was unlike me, but Colonel Birch laughed. “As it happens, I do want Mary to help me find an ichthyosaurus, if she is willing.”

“Of course, sir!”

“You will have to ask her mother and brother for permission,” I said. “It wouldn’t be appropriate otherwise.” I couldn’t hold back barbed comments.

“Oh, that don’t matter-they’ll say yes,” Mary put in.

“Of course I will speak to your family,” Colonel Birch said. “You have nothing to fear from me, Mary-nor you, Miss-”

“Philpot.” Of course he assumed I was a spinster. Would a married lady be out on the beach, far from home, hunting for fossils? I stooped to pick up something from the sand. It was just a bit of beef shaped like one of the paddle bones of an ichthyosaurus, but I paid it more attention than it was due so that I wouldn’t have to look at Colonel Birch.

“Let’s go back and ask Mam now,” Mary suggested.

“Mary, we were going to Seatown, don’t you remember?” I reminded her. “To look for brittle stars and sea lilies. If you go back to Lyme we’ll have to give up the day.”

Colonel Birch cut in. “I could accompany you to Seatown. That’s rather a long way for ladies to go on their own, isn’t it?”

“Seven miles,” I snapped. “We’re certainly capable of walking that far. We do it all the time. We’ll get the coach back at the end.”

“I shall see you to the coach,” Colonel Birch declared. “I would not want it on my conscience to leave you two ladies undefended.”

“We don’t need-”

“Oh, thank you, Colonel Birch, sir!” Mary interrupted.

‘Sea lilies, did you say?” Colonel Birch said. “I have some lovely specimens of pentacrinites myself. I’ll show you sometime, if you like. They’re back at my hotel in Charmouth.”

I frowned at the impropriety of his suggestion. Mary’s judgement, however, had fallen away. “I’d like to see them,” she said. “And I’ve other crinoids back home you be welcome to look at, sir. Crinoids and ammos, and bits of croc- ichthyosaurus, and all sorts.” The girl was enamoured with him already. I shook my head and stalked off down the beach, my head lowered, pretending to hunt, though I was walking too fast to find anything. After a moment they followed.

“What is a brittle star?” Colonel Birch asked. “I have not heard of such a thing.”

“It’s shaped like a star, sir,” Mary explained. “The centre is marked with the outline of a flower with five petals, and a long, wavy leg extends off each petal. It’s hard to find one with all five legs intact. I’ve had a collector ask specially for one that’s not broken. That’s why we’ve come this far. Normally I stay between Lyme and Charmouth, by Black Ven and off the ledges by town.”

“Is that where you have found the ichthyosauri?”

“There, and one along Monmouth Beach, just to the west of Lyme. But there might be some along here. I just haven’t looked here for them. Have you seen an ichthyosaurus, sir?”

“No, but I’ve read about them, and seen drawings.”

I snorted.

“I am here for the summer to expand my fossil collection, Mary, and I hope you will be able to help-There!” Colonel Birch stopped. I turned to look. He reached down and picked up a bit of crinoid.

“Very good, sir,” Mary said. “I was just going to have a look at that, but you beat me to it.”

He held it out to her. “It is for you, Mary. I would not deprive you of such a lovely specimen. It is my gift to you.”

It was indeed a fine specimen, fanning out like the lily it was named for. “Oh no, sir, it’s yours,” Mary said. “You found it. I could never take it from you.”

Colonel Birch took her hand, laid the crinoid in it and closed her fingers around it. “I insist, Mary.” He held his hand over her fist and looked at her. “Did you know crinoids are not plants as they appear, but creatures?”

“Really, sir?” Mary was staring into his eyes. Of course she knew about crinoids. I had taught her.

I stepped forward. “Colonel Birch, I must ask you to show proper respect or I shall require that you leave us.”

Colonel Birch dropped his hand. “My apologies, Miss Philpot. The discovery of fossils excites me in ways I find hard to control.”

“Control it you must, sir, or you will lose the privileges you seek.”

He nodded and fell back to a respectful distance. We walked in silence for a time. But Colonel Birch could not be quiet for long, and soon he and Mary were lagging behind while he asked her about the fossils she preferred, her method of hunting, even her thoughts on what the ichthyosaurus was. “I don’t know, sir,” she said of her most spectacular find. “It seems the ichie’s got a bit of crocodile in it, some lizard, some fish. And a bit of something all its own. That’s what’s difficult, that bit. How it fits in.”

“Oh, I expect your ichthyosaurus has a place in Aristotle’s Great Chain of Being,” Colonel Birch said.

“What’s that, sir?”

I tutted. She didn’t need him to explain it, for I had described the theory to Mary myself. She was flirting with him. Of course he loved telling her what he knew. Men do.

“The Greek philosopher Aristotle suggested that all creatures could be placed along a scale, from the lowest plants up to the perfection that is man, in a chain of creation. So your ichthyosaurus may fall between a lizard and a crocodile in the chain, for instance.”

“That is very interesting, sir.” Mary paused. “But that don’t explain about the bit of the ichie that’s like nothing else, that don’t fit in with the categories. Where does that fit in the chain, if it’s different from everything else?”

Colonel Birch suddenly stopped, squatted and picked up a stone. “Is this-Oh, no, it’s not. My mistake.” He threw the stone into the water.

I smiled. He might dazzle with his handsome head of hair, but his grasp of knowledge was superficial, and Mary had picked it apart.

“What about you, Miss Philpot? What do you like to collect?” In two lively steps Colonel Birch had caught up with me, escaping Mary’s awkward question. I did not want his attention, for I was not sure I could bear it, but I could not be impolite.

“Fish,” I answered as briefly as I could.

“Fish?”

Though I did not want to converse with him, I could not help showing off a bit of my knowledge. “Primarily Eugnathus, Pholidophorus, Dapedius, and Hybodus-the last is an ancient shark,” I added as his face went blank at the Latin. “Those are the genus names, of course. The different species have not yet been identified.”