Where Have All the Boys Gone?(28)

“Well—and don’t take this the wrong way, OK, I’m just playing devil’s advocate . . .”

Harry’s grunt indicated that he rarely thought of her as anything but.

“. . . but it’s progress, isn’t it? Isn’t it what people want? Won’t it bring a lot of money to the area? Isn’t it a good thing?”

“Now that,” said Harry, stabbing the steering wheel with his finger, “is exactly what I’d expect that prick from the newspaper to say.”

“I’m just saying,” said Katie.

“Every single part of this country is ‘developed,’” growled Harry. “They’ve concreted over all of the south, and now they’re after us. And they won’t be happy until they’ve squeezed every bit of profit out of the soil, and covered it all with golf courses and Starbucks and McDonald’s. There’s nothing wrong with our area. Bring outside money in and the same thing happens as it does everywhere else: people can’t afford to buy houses in the towns they were born in and neighbour falls out with neighbour.”

“You know, you talk like someone a lot older than you are,” said Katie. “But I see your point.”

“I just think,” said Harry, “that they ought to leave just some of the country as it is. Just a tiny wee bit. Leave us alone. Give the damn country a little space to breathe.”

“So, why’s it a secret?”

“Well,” said Harry, “I was kind of hoping that we could fend them off and nobody in the town would find out. And that’s your job.”

HE DREW THE Land-Rover to a halt some way further on. They’d been sitting in silence for ages.

“There’s one last place I want to show you,” he said, clambering down and disappearing into the trees. Katie could hear a whooshing noise as she headed after him.

“What?” she yelled. God, it was dark in here. She could just see a flash of Harry’s coat ahead.

“Are you going to leave me out on the hillside for wolves?”

Harry turned around to face her. “What kind of boss do you think I am . . . Actually, don’t answer that.”

Behind her, Katie noticed Francis hopping down from his seat and following them into the woods. She threw Harry a dirty look, which he ignored and continued thrashing on.

After ten minutes of this, during which Katie was really beginning to regret the afternoon’s rapprochement, the thick black coils of the trees suddenly beamed a canopy and she emerged blinking into the golden late-afternoon light. Ahead was a huge tumbling waterfall, crashing through shiny, moss-covered rocks, ending in a deep pool that meandered off into a river through the trees at the far side. This was obviously the source of the crashing noise Katie had heard coming through the woods.

“It’s magnificent.” She smiled.

Harry nodded. “I know. Come here—drink some of the water.”

Francis had already run up to the side of the pool and was lapping enthusiastically.

“It’s got a dog’s tongue in it,” complained Katie.

“Don’t be a woose. You can drink from above it if you like.”

“Don’t birds pee in it?”

“Do you pee in your sink?”

“No, although I’ve known some fellows that did.”

The water was the coldest, clearest, most refreshing Katie had ever tasted. It chilled her body right through to her stomach and was sweet and clean. She scooped it up with both hands and felt like throwing it over her face.

“Good?” asked Harry, watching her closely.

“They should bottle this stuff,” said Katie.

Harry rolled his eyes. “They do. But this is nearer the source. It’s best here.”

“It’s wonderful,” said Katie, sitting on a rock and letting her fingers trail in the bubbling water. On the other side of the water were four large white birds sipping delicately. They seemed completely unafraid of them, and even Francis ignored them, preferring to drink his fill, then settling back for a quick nap.

“So,” said Katie finally, “what is it you want me to do exactly?”

“Stop the golf course.”

“Oh, no, that much I’ve got. I mean, do you have a plan of action you want me to follow, or do you want me to take the initiative and handle it from scratch?”

“Hmm,” said Harry. He didn’t look as though he was quite sure.

“OK,” said Katie. “Well, there’s a few ways we could go about it. We could confront them directly. Or we could chum up with the local MP and the planning board and try to stop them that way. Or we could aim for more direct action. It’s going to need money for advertising, banners, campaign slogans—the more money we can get together, the louder the fuss can be. And if we can kick and shout and scream and get enough publicity together, well, that would probably be enough to make it not worth their while continuing.”

“OK,” nodded Harry seriously.

“OK what? What do you want me to do?”

Harry threw a small pebble into the water. “You’re absolutely sure you can’t just have a quiet word with them and make them all go away?”

“Do I look like Mike Tyson?”

Harry shrugged.

“Shut up!”