Free Where Have All the Boys Gone? by Jenny Colgan Page A

ludicrousness of Harry’s position.
    ‘Heroin? Really? Up here? Well, I suppose it is Scotland,’ said Katie.
    Iain stared at her suspiciously. ‘OK, well, let’s pretend I was explaining to you as if, for one minute, you weren’t a country girl. Just for fun.’
    Katie got her notebook out.
    ‘I mean, if you keep planting one type of tree instead of lots of different types, you’re going to have to understand why animals who like lots of mixed habitats might move on. Which then affects the environment and turns back on the plantations themselves.’
    ‘That sounds terrible,’ said Katie. It did sound terrible. Though she didn’t know why.
    ‘It is,’ said Iain, pounding his fist on the desk, which made lots of suspicious-sounding clinking china noises. ‘That’s why you…’
    ‘Katie,’ said Katie.
    ‘That’s why you, Katie, have to help me. That man is killing trees.’
    ‘Yes!’ said Katie, fired up with zeal. ‘Oh, hang on. No! I can’t! I work for him.’
    ‘This isnae about “me” or “him”,’ said Iain, gazing into her eyes. ‘This is for the trees, Katie.’
    She looked at him for a second, then the moment was broken by the low trill of a mobile phone. A nice masculine ring, she couldn’t help thinking.
    ‘Kinross. Yeah? Oh, cock. Right, right, OK.’ He snapped it shut. ‘I’m so sorry. I have to go. Some stupidsheep’s just had octuplets and it’ll probably make the front page. Drink tonight?’
    The invitation was so direct, Katie didn’t even see it coming and wasn’t sure what it meant. Was it a date or a continuation of their business conversation? She shouldn’t really be fraternising with the enemy, should she – even if he was hot? On the other hand, the alternative was huddling under two sheets in a hayloft with Louise, so she wasn’t in a position to be picky.
    ‘Um, OK. Where?’
    Iain, who was now shrugging his way into a parka, laughed. ‘Well, take your pick. There’s the Rum and Thump or the Mermaid or…nope, that’s it.’
    ‘The Mermaid, please,’ said Katie fervently. The name sounded a bit more appealing.
    ‘Got a taste for the wild side have we? OK, see you at seven. Remember –’ he indicated the audio-challenged room sternly ‘– tell no one. Or Mr Beaumont will be on you like a cougar.’
    The aged Mr Beaumont declined to look up from his whispered conversation on the telephone. Or maybe he couldn’t.
    ‘A cougar,’ warned Iain again. Then he was gone.
    Katie trailed behind him weakly as he swept out of the turret. She could see Louise’s plaintive face follow him down the stairway as she emerged. Louise raised her eyes expectantly.
    ‘I have to go back to the office,’ said Katie, officiously. In fact, she needed five minutes by herself to think.
    ‘Well?’ asked Louise as they exited the small building, pausing only to give the receptionist evils.
    Katie was feeling slightly more understanding. ‘Well what?’
    ‘Well what what? Did you just see that guy?!’
    ‘Iain?’
    ‘Ooh, yes, Iain, of course. You know him so well now. Yes, how was Iain, your husband. Iain. Everyone likes Iain. Iain and Katie.’
    ‘Shut up Louise,’ said Katie, trying to swallow down a blush.
    ‘Well spill then. Jeez, the first hot, non-psychotic male we’ve seen in months and now you’re trying to pretend you’re Joan of Arc’
    ‘Well, he seems all right,’ conceded Katie. ‘First person we’ve met so far that didn’t hate us on sight anyway.’
    ‘That’s good,’ said Louise. ‘Definitely, that’s a good sign.’ She futilely pulled the collar of her Karen Millen coat up against the stiff breeze coming in from the sea. ‘Christ. You’d have thought people would have realised it was cold up here.’
    ‘They did,’ said Katie as they looked out across the bay. ‘That’s why there’s so few of them. You have to admit, it’s pretty though.’
    ‘The South of France is pretty,’ mused Louise. ‘I’m amazed it’s never occurred