Martin was of a sunnier disposition. He believed the best of people; his patience was never-ending. There was no situation that couldn't be sorted out by a good laugh. The only thing Martin McMahon ever feared was the lake itself.
He used to warn people, even visitors who came into his chemist's shop, to be careful as they went along the paths by the lake shore. Clio and Kit were old enough to take a boat out alone now, they had proved it a dozen times, but Martin still felt nervous. He admitted it to Peter over a pint in Paddles' bar. "Jesus, Martin! You are turning into an old woman."
Martin didn't take it as an insult "I suppose I am. Let me look for any secondary signs: I haven't developed breasts or anything, but I don't need to shave as often.. You could be right, you know."
Peter looked affectionately at his friend. Martin's bluster was hiding a real concern.
"I've watched them, Martin. I'm as anxious as you are that they don't run into trouble... but they aren't such fools when they are out on the water as they seem to be on dry land. We have drilled that into them. Watch them yourself and you will see."
"I will. They are ging out tomorrow. Helen says we have to let them go and not wrap them in cotton wool."
"Helen's right." Peter said sagely, and they debated whether or not to have another pint. As always on these occasions they made a huge compromise by ordering a half pint. So predictable that Paddles had it ready for them when they got around to ordering it.
"Mr McMahon, will you please tell Anna to go home." Clio begged Kit's father. "If I tell her it only starts a row."
"Would you like to go for a walk with me?" Kit's father suggested.
"I'd like to go in the boat."
"I know you would, but they're big, grown-up girlsnow, and they want to be having their own chats. Why don't you and I go and see if we could find a squirrel?" He looked at the girls in the boat.