Where Have All the Boys Gone?(52)

“Harry told me about your dad.”

“He told you what about him?”

Katie quickly decided that this was not the time to go into the story of Harry’s mother. “That he was planning the golf course.”

Iain stopped fiddling about on his desk. “What else did he tell you?”

“Um, just that. I think. Was there anything else?” Katie realised she was being an idiot, panicked, and blurted out, “Oh no. Um, hang on, actually, yes. That you never went to see his mum when she was dying.”

Iain heaved a big sigh. “God, I wish that man would get over himself.”

“Isn’t it true?” asked Katie, eager to hear his side.

“That’s not the point. The point is, we were kids, it was a really difficult time and my dad told me to stay away for the good of the family. I was frightened; she looked really terrible and puffy and sick. I didn’t know what it was, did I? And what was I supposed to do, climb out of the window in the dead of night?”

“Harry says she really liked you.”

“I liked her too. She was great. We used to have a brilliant time.” He looked nostalgic for a moment. “Harry and I would disappear at six in the morning and be gone all day—my parents wouldn’t care less, but Mrs. Barr would make us egg sandwiches to take with us. We’d eat them straight away and come back absolutely starving.”

“What did you do all day?”

“Played in the woods mostly. My mother was trying to bring me up as one of those non-gender-biased children, so I couldn’t have any guns or anything in the house. So we basically used to go to the forest, pick up sticks and play stuff with them. Well, we’d start off playing stuff. We’d usually end up hitting each other about. You know it doesn’t get dark here until about half eleven at night in the summer?”

“Really?”

He nodded. “We’d stay out as long as we could stand the midges. We would be so hungry, and his mum would always feed us. I practically lived at their house.” He looked sad. “You know, I was only wee. You’ve no idea . . . I mean, she went bald and everything. I was scared too. I was terrified. He’s not the only one who misses her, you know. I tried to apologise and tell him I was sorry, but you know what boys are like. I’m sure I didn’t get myself across right at all, and after that I just thought, fuck him, if he can’t take an apology. Then he got that stupid job with the forestry department and his girlfriend left him and he went right up himself and . . . well, we’ve kind of fallen out ever since.”

He said the last bit looking shamefaced, and suddenly Katie could imagine what they were like at ten, running out to the woods to play cowboys and Indians or, probably around here, Scotsmen and Englishmen.

“Don’t you think it’s about time you made it up?” she asked gently.

“What, now my dad’s trying to cut down his bleeding precious forest? Not bloody likely.”

“Maybe you could unite against him.”

“Yes, that will help my relationship with my dad.” Iain looked pained. “You know, I’m caught between . . . between a tree and a hard place here. I’m just trying to do the right thing.”

At this, the doubts that were in Katie’s mind evaporated, and she looked at Iain with an open heart. He looked so helpless standing there that she went over to him and put her arms around him.

“It’s going to be OK,” she said.

“I know that,” said Iain. “It’s just making me crabbit. Pissed off,” he explained when he saw her expression. “Do you know why I work here? Supposedly for a quiet life. Ha!”

“What are you going to do?” asked Katie.

“I’m just going to keep out of everyone’s way and not answer the phone to my parents. I’ve thought it through and I think that’s the most mature way of handling things.”

“Running away?”

“It’s working for your friend Louise.”

“That’s true.” Katie thought for a moment. “But we’ve got so much to do! For the ball and for the fighting fund, and, you know, the blue-arse thing. You’ll all meet then.”

“Well, I don’t see why I’ll need to see my dad—he’s hardly contributing to the fighting fund now, is he? And I see your Mr. Barr all the time, can’t be off it here. It doesn’t come to blows, don’t worry. We’re what you’d call ‘icily polite.’”

“Icily polite. Hmm. Well, that’s a lot to work with,” said Katie.

Iain immediately snapped upright. “Work! That’s what we’ve got to talk about.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re booked on a radio show tonight. That’s why I summonsed you.” He looked slightly guilty.

“You didn’t ‘summons’ me—I came to place this ad!”

“I know. Sorry. I should have phoned you before.”

“I’ll say.”

“No, but listen. You’re on the radio tonight. I was just about to ring you.”

“What? What radio?”

“You’re in the media aren’t you? You must go on the radio all the time.”

“No, I get other people on the radio—you’re misunderstanding my entire job,” said Katie, starting to worry.