Where Have All the Boys Gone?(47)

“I’ll get dressed,” said Louise.

“You won’t,” said Katie. But Louise had already gone, pausing only to pick up two pieces of toast, a sausage, a half-fried tomato and a piece of fruit pudding.

“Hello Katie,” said Craig. “I see you’re quite the folk hero. Well done, by the way. Now we’ve got a chance to stop the bastards. There’s developers trying to move in here every five minutes. Bastards.”

“I hope so,” said Katie. “But I don’t think . . .”

Mrs. McClockerty’s stroke face suddenly took a turn for the worse. “Hal!” she said, in a clucking tone Katie had never heard. She craned her neck for a better look through the door.

Harry was coming up the driveway, with an expression on his face that suggested he was en route for a root canal.

“Hello Auntie Senga,” he said, as Katie’s eyebrows rose. “Hello Craig.”

“Hey,” said Craig, patting him hard on the back. “Lots of work to do, eh? Great to get started early in the morning. Fighting the good fight and all that. Listen, you know the Farmers’ Union has already got together and started a fund? They’ve said if you like they’ll park their tractors in front of all the bulldozers. Apparently, it’s a pretty even match, but they’ve got more tractors. And the sewage dispersal unit and that.”

“Yes, I heard,” said Harry. “And Mr. MacKenzie has offered to poison the lot of them for me too. By shepherd’s pie, I think.”

“Great,” said Craig. “I’ve got some horse drugs that’ll work very well.” He turned to Katie. “Tell your friend I’ll see her at the surgery at 9:30. I’m extracting a snake’s tonsils, and then we’re good to go.”

He vanished down the garden path.

Harry couldn’t meet Katie’s eyes.

“I’ll just go put on the tea for my wee Hal,” said Mrs. McClockerty. Then she put out her hand and pinched his cheek.

“Um,” said Harry when they were finally alone. He stood on the doorstep, unwilling to commit himself to stepping inside.

Katie tried not to look in the least bit interested; to give off vibes of being able to turn around and go back to London, any time she liked. OK, she wouldn’t have a job, or a possible new boyfriend, or, for certain, a car, but she would have . . . um . . . well, maybe the satisfaction of being right. That didn’t sound brilliant now, but maybe it would keep her warm at night. When she was sleeping under Waterloo Bridge, or being a nanny to Clara’s almost inevitably hippy-spoilt child.

“Um,” she ventured in return.

“Can I smell sausages?” he asked incredulously. “My God, now I know you’ve done something right.”

“Would Francis like one?” asked Katie.

“Um, no . . . he’s off them since an unpleasant . . . butcher . . . never mind. It was very expensive, but I think it worked as aversion therapy.”

“How terribly fascinating,” said Katie. “You should always come around with any badly-behaved dog stories you happen to have.”

“OK, OK.” He looked terribly unhappy. “I’m sorry. I’m very very sorry. You were right and I was wrong. How’s that?”

“Not bad,” said Katie.

“Except I told you something in confidence and you told the entire Highlands region and some of the Grampians, in which case, you were wrong.”

“Can I direct you back to the previous ‘you were right and I was wrong’ statement?”

Harry said nothing.

“OK,” said Katie finally. “I’m sorry about that. It was an emotional day. I am really really sorry.”

“I mean, I know you don’t know him or anything, but that bastard Iain . . . this is just the kind of thing he’s always looking for. Just to have a go at me.”

“Well,” said Katie, thinking fast. “If that’s the plan, it’ll backfire, won’t it? Now everybody’s behind you and wants to be on your team.”

“There is that,” said Harry, momentarily brightening.

“Exactly,” said Katie. “It’ll all work out for the best . . . if, you know . . .”

“What?”

“Well, you know . . . if I’ve still got a job or not.”

Harry looked anxious. “Well, of course you have. I mean, if you’ll still do it. Why else would I be here?”

“Jeering?”

He looked at her, hurt.

“Of course, I wouldn’t think that,” said Katie. “Come in and have a sausage.”

“Absolutely not. I need you to come to the office. You got us into this unholy mess, you’d bloody better start getting us out of it. All those things you said before.” His face turned serious. “You really think you can get us out of this?”

“I don’t know,” said Katie. “But I know how to try.”

DEREK WAS DASHING about with coffee and papers everywhere, all of a flutter with excitement.

“The Mirror called!” he shouted excitedly as soon as Katie and Harry walked through the door.

“The who?” said Harry, but Katie had already shot forward immediately.

“Really?”

“Aye! They’re calling it the Braveheart Barricade. They want to know if we’re going to show them our arses and paint our faces blue. Apparently if we do, they’ll send a photographer.”