that right?’ said Uncle Maurice. ‘Well, you’d know, I suppose.’
Tess said nothing and the only sound was the high-pitched drone of Orla’s constricted breath. Uncle Maurice followed up his advantage.
‘I mean,’ he said, ‘you’d know the difference, wouldn’t you, Miss Cleverclogs, between this dead rat and any other dead rat.’
He looked around triumphantly, as though expecting applause. But he hadn’t won, yet.
‘I think I would,’ said Tess. ‘I think that rat has only one top tooth at the front.’
Uncle Maurice’s mouth dropped open in astonishment. But Brian was already at his side and staring into the slack mouth of the dead rat. Rapidly, Uncle Maurice dropped it back into the plastic bag, but he wasn’t quick enough.
‘Yep,’ said Brian. ‘She’s right. Only one front tooth. How did you know that, Tess?’
Colm had understood little of the preceding conversation, but no nuance of mood or atmosphere ever escaped him. He knew now that his hero had been vindicated and he was delighted. An affectionate soul at the best of times, he flung his arms around Kevin’s neck and hugged him tight.
But it was not a wise move, given the circumstances, and not only because of the embarrassment it caused Kevin. Uncle Maurice was a tyrant, without doubt, but he loved his children with a fierce passion. To see Colm’s affection so freely given to his adversary was more than he could stand.
‘Get out,’ he said, his voice low, his face dangerously dark.
Kevin gently disengaged himself from Colm’s embrace. As she watched, Tess saw the best of Kevin’s rat nature emerge; his courage and, above all, his sense of justice.
‘I’ll leave when I’ve been paid,’ he said.
‘You’ll leave right now,’ said Uncle Maurice. ‘Right this minute. And if I see you around here again I’ll call the police.’
‘The police? On what charge?’
‘Loitering. Harassment. Whatever I like. Do you think they’ll believe you for one minute? That you played on a tin whistle and the rats followed you out of my yard? They’ll lock you up, more like it.’
Kevin stared at him in silent anger and Tess saw that he was defeated. Everyone knew that he was right, but that against Uncle Maurice’s word he hadn’t a leg to stand on. For a long moment, time seemed frozen in the room. Then Kevin strode to the door and was gone.
‘Good riddance,’ said Uncle Maurice, throwing the dead rat in its plastic bag out after him. But everyone knew that the matter was not closed, and the silence which still hung in the room was full of gloom and foreboding.
CHAPTER TEN
I F TESS THOUGHT THAT the bottom had fallen out of her world, she was wrong. The worst was still to come. The dust had barely settled behind Kevin’s bicycle on the drive when a Mercedes car pulled up and two men in expensive suits got out.
Uncle Maurice threw the door open wide and went out to meet them, then preceded them into the kitchen where Aunt Deirdre, yet again, put on the kettle.
‘Deirdre, this is Mr Keating from Keating Development.’
‘Pleased to meet you,’ said Mr Keating. ‘But don’t make any tea for us.’ He gestured to the other man and turned back to Uncle Maurice as he spoke.
‘This is Peter Mahon, the surveyor I was telling you about. We’ve come to walk the boundaries of that land, if it suits you.’
Tess had no interest in what was happening and was about to slip out when the reaction of her cousins changed her mind.
‘Can we come, Daddy?’ said Orla.
‘Please?’ said Brian.
‘Sure, we’re only walking around the land,’ said Uncle Maurice.
‘But we love the crag,’ said Orla. ‘We won’t get in your way. Honestly.’
‘The crag?’ said Tess.
But no one heard her. Uncle Maurice had given his permission, and the children were cheering and racing off to get their boots. Tess followed them into the hall.
‘Did you say the crag?’ she asked.
Orla nodded.
‘You mean the land up there?’ Tess