Free Live Fire by Stephen Leather

was in the kitchen or cleaning. Shepherd had hired Katra as an au pair almost three years earlier, shortly after she had arrived in the country from Slovenia, and now he didn’t know how he’d manage without her. She took care of the house and she was great with Liam. He’d given her a cheque book and access to one of his bank accounts, and she paid all the household bills and even her own salary. Shepherd trusted her totally, with Liam and with his finances. ‘Are you hungry?’ There was hardly a trace of her old accent. She practised her English accent by listening to BBC newsreaders and endeavouring to copy them.
    ‘Famished,’ said Shepherd, sitting down at the kitchen table. He picked up the magazine. It was full of photographs of people he had never heard of.
    ‘I’m doing shepherd’s pie,’ said Katra.
    ‘See? I told you,’ said Liam, sitting down at the table. He grinned at Katra. ‘He didn’t believe me,’ he told her.
    The kettle boiled and Katra poured the water into a cafetière and put it in front of Shepherd with a carton of milk and a mug.
    ‘Can we change our cars, Dad?’ asked Liam.
    ‘What?’
    ‘The Honda CRV and the BMW X3. Have you any idea what their carbon footprints are?’
    ‘I’m more concerned with fingerprints than footprints,’ said Shepherd.
    ‘It’d be better for the environment if we had a hybrid.’
    ‘Says who?’
    ‘Mr Walker at school. We drew up a list of all the cars our families have and looked at the mileage and the pollution and everything.’
    ‘So Mr Walker was asking you what sort of car I drove?’
    Liam sighed. ‘It was for environmental studies, Dad,’ he said.
    ‘I’d rather you didn’t give him personal information like that.’ He pushed down the cafetière’s plunger and poured coffee into his mug.
    ‘What was I supposed to say? “No comment”? Come on, Dad, you’re being paranoid. He was just proving a point. Most of the kids in my class have gas-guzzling SUVs. And we’ve got two.’
    Shepherd splashed some milk into his coffee. ‘Gas-guzzling? The CRV does twenty-four to the gallon. You should ask Mr Walker about the batteries.’
    ‘What batteries?’
    ‘The batteries in hybrids. Ask him what happens to them. Car engines can be recyled pretty much, and the metal can be melted down and used again. But the batteries in hybrids are full of toxic compounds. And ask him how much energy is used in making those batteries. I’m not saying electric cars aren’t the way to go, but right now the old-fashioned combustion engine is a hell of a lot more efficient than people give it credit for. And I like my BMW. It’s safer than the average hybrid, and so is the CRV. If, God-forbid, you’re ever in an accident I want you strapped into an SUV, not sitting in some battery-operated death trap.’
    ‘Dad—’
    ‘Don’t “Dad” me on this,’ said Shepherd. ‘I’m serious. You look at the cars that members of our government drive. Gas-guzzlers one and all. When the prime minister and his wife start driving around in hybrids maybe I’ll trade in the BMW and the CRV, but until then we’re keeping them.’
    ‘What about biofuels?’ asked Liam. ‘Can’t we use biofuels? At least they’re organic.’
    ‘Half the world is short of food, Liam. People are starving in Africa and Asia. Do you think it’s fair to grow crops just to put fuel in cars here in the West?’
    ‘But Mr Walker said biofuels are the fuels of the future.’
    ‘They are,’ said Shepherd. ‘And when we’ve got enough food to feed all the people, we can grow crops for fuel. But that’s not going to be for a long time. It’s the same with battery cars. They’re for the future too. But the way things stand at the moment, we’re stuck with oil, we’re stuck with cars, and you’re stuck with me as your father.’ He ruffled his son’s hair. ‘But just so we can start saving the world you can walk to school from now on.’
    ‘Dad—’
    ‘Didn’t do me any