Where Have All the Boys Gone?(8)

“So, what do you want? A pair of flashy wellies? Some chickens?”

“I don’t know,” said Katie. “But I do know I want a change.”

A WEEK LATER, they were at a new, trendier, cocktail bar. Olivia and Louise were staring grumpily into their espresso martinis. Katie’s head was hidden behind a paper.

“Press officer required for a children’s hospital,” she read. “See! I could do some good in the world.”

“Are you thinking about hot doctors?” asked Louise.

“With cool caring hands and a lovely bedside manner? No,” said Katie quickly.

“Make sure you ask them about the cool caring hands bit at the interview—there’s a lot of girl doctors these days.”

Katie turned the page and sighed.

“Put the paper down,” said Olivia. “You’re not leaving, and that’s the end of it. I need you. We’ve got the carbohydrate-free chip coming up. It tastes like shit, but the magic is, it looks like a chip.”

“Plus, we’ve got lots to do. You know, there’s that new dating thing on at Vinopolis,” Louise said. “We could go to that. You eat your dinner in the dark, and get to know people without seeing them.”

“You can tell if people are fat just from the way they sound,” said Olivia.

“No you can’t!”

“Yes you can! And if they’re drippy and wet.”

“You are an evil, prejudiced woman.”

“Hey, look at this,” said Katie.

She showed them the advert.



* * *



Can you see the wood for the trees? Fairlish Forestry Commission is looking for a press officer with at least three years’ experience in a related field. Knowledge of local wildlife/degree in zoology preferred.

Contact: 1 Buhvain Grove, Fairlish IV74 9PB. Salary ￡24k



* * *



They gathered around to take a look at it. There was a long silence.

“Katie,” said Olivia gently. “Put the paper down. You know your degree is in history of art and theatre studies.”

“It says ‘preferred,’” said Katie.

Olivia sighed and jumped down inelegantly from the ridiculously high stools to join the queue for the ladies.

“Think, open spaces, fresh air . . .”

“You hate fresh air,” said Louise.

“Maybe I just don’t know what it is . . .”

“Forestry Commission?” said Louise. “Katie, all you know about is lipgloss and low-fat fudge.”

“That’s related,” said Katie. “We do lots of not-tested-on-animals stuff.”

“OK, question one,” said Louise. “What is the local wildlife?”

“Badgers?”

“Well, I wouldn’t know,” said Louise, “because I haven’t the faintest clue where Fairlish is. Do you?”

“You’re being very negative,” said Katie. “Is it so bad to want a change?”

“It is if they’re only paying you 24k.”

“I think I’ll head for home,” said Katie, folding up the paper in a suspiciously noisy flurry.

“Why?” Olivia, returned, sounded suspicious.

“Bit tired . . . no reason.”

“Are you going home to make up an imaginary CV?” whispered Louise as she got up to walk Katie to the Tube—she was still a little nervous late at night.

Katie didn’t answer.

“You realise you’d put the lives of hundreds of innocent animals at risk?”

“What if Fairlish is actually in Liberia?” said Olivia. “Lots of people read this paper, all over the world. You’ll be sorry.”

“Well, I’m in PR,” said Katie. “I’d put a brave face on it.”





Chapter Two


There were only three other people on the train. The rolling stock seemed to be pre-war, and big clouds of dust had risen from the seats when she put her bag down. One couple of old men were talking a language she didn’t understand, didn’t recognise from anywhere, despite her year travelling. It seemed to consist mostly of Bs and Vs and sounded as though they were singing.

It wasn’t them that captured Katie’s attention however; further down the carriage was a woman stroking the nose of what Katie had assumed to be a poodle. She had had to check herself to see if she was sleeping (it had been a very long journey) when she heard the poodle baa.

Katie turned her head and stared out of the window. She couldn’t believe she had travelled so far and was still in the same country—well, on the same island. Instead of small mean houses and grey buildings filling her window, there were dramatic hills soaring steeply up on either side of the track. The hills were dark colours, greens and purples and blues. It looked cold and austere, with occasional shafts of sunlight breaking through and the occasional flash of something bouncing through the undergrowth—rabbits, probably.

Katie shifted uncomfortably. She still couldn’t believe she’d applied for this job. It may as well be the rainforest out here. Olivia had thrown her hands in the air when she realised Katie had never even visited Scotland before.

“NOT EVEN ONCE? To take some crappy show to the Edinburgh Festival? School trip to the Burrell Collection? Horrible school holiday where it rained all the time and you lost your Pacamac, your sandwich lunch and your virginity all on the same day?”