Page 38 of The Wishing Tree Beside the Shor
I rub my fingers over my forehead while I try to think of how long ithasbeen. The days here have sort of melted away in a fuzzy haze of brambles and sea air and Ryan’s aftershave. ‘I thought I was meant to be undercover …’
‘Yes, fromthem. Not from me. You’re still working for me, are you not?’
Am I? Even though it’s pretty impossible to forget, it hasn’t felt like it for the past few days. ‘Just trying to gain their trust!’ I chortle. What evenischortling? Why do I suddenly sound like a distressed bird with its head up a drainpipe?
‘Only I thought you might’ve checked in. Iampaying you to visit your family, after all. Usually you’d have had to use holiday time for that. Two birds, one stone, et cetera.’
Oh, how Ilovehis habit of speaking words you’d only ever expect to find in text. ‘You told me to infiltrate the protest as a local and earn their trust. They’re not going to let me in if I’m on the phone to my property developer boss at every given opportunity, are they?’ I glance down at Baaabra again. She’s watching me with a judgemental look on her sheepy face, but I’m almost certain she’ll have no way of passing on this information.
I feel guilty for talking about it in front of her, like she’s bearing witness to my horrible secret, and she can’t tell anyone because she’s a sheep. I’m exploiting her judgy sheep status and putting her in an awkward position. An ewe-kward position. Oh God, Ryan is rubbing off on me. I let out a hysterical giggle, and can easily imagine Harrison’s mildly disturbed face on the other end of the phone.
‘So where are we with the protest, Felicity? Only from my end, it doesn’t seem to be dying down at all, and thatiswhat I sent you there to do, isn’t it? Why aren’t I seeing results yet?’
‘Well, they’re very … er … determined. And distrustful. And dedicated to their cause.’
‘A few grand for a nice new mobility scooter would be something to be dedicated to. Have you tried gin?’
I snort at the unexpected comment. I could do with a bottle of gin to get through this conversation. ‘I prefer wine.’
‘I meant plythemwith gin, obviously. Get them tiddly and tottering off to bed, and then you’ve just got to bribe the trousers off this Tree Idiot and we’ll be away.’
‘They’re care home residents!’ I exclaim, wondering if he’dreallyexpect me to ply them with alcohol. Are therenolows he won’t stoop to? ‘They’re probably on God knows how many medications that would interact with gin. And I’m not going to ask them what because, believe me, when they get onto the topic of prescriptions, theyneverstop.’ I steadfastly ignore the comment about Ryan. Seeing him sans-pants would behazardousfor anyone’s health.
‘Have you not gotanywherewith persuading them to give up?’
‘Peoplelovethis tree,’ I say. ‘It means a lot to this village. To everyone. It’s stood here for three hundred years and they reckon it’s only got another hundred to live naturally. It would break people’s hearts to cut it down. It’s proving more difficult than you anticipated.’
‘Hmm.’ I can envision his narrowed eyes and hear the click of a pen as he presses the end of it up and down again and again. He’s shrewd and can always tell when a businessman is trying to pull a fast one – there’s no way he’ll believe my lies. That was a pitiful attempt to appeal to his better nature and make him realise how special the tree is. He doesn’t care. He’s exactly the type of corporate city man who thinks only in money, not about nature.
‘Start peppering conversations with info about fines, Felicity. Make sure they know the law is on our side and they’ll be fined for being there. And pretend you care about them and don’t want them to have to lose so much of their paltry pensions. Old people don’t like fines.’
No onelikes fines. ‘It’s still their garden.’
‘But not for much longer. I was speaking to Steffan yesterday and he’s wavering. I told him I’d got someone onsite and he was pleased at having the backup. It boosted his determination to sell.’
Backup. Someone onsite. I briefly look around for this person before I realise it’s me. I’m still the undercover man. That feeling of being the worst person in the world washes over me again.
I’m doing exactly what he sent me here to do. I’m gaining people’s trust. The gang of residents have accepted me as one of their own unquestioningly. They trust me. And then there’s Ryan. He trusts me like he trusted me fifteen years ago, like no time has passed at all. This lie is going to come out eventually. They’ll feel likehebetrayed them too when this is over and they find out the truth.
I’m not sure which thought makes me feel more ill – the thought of them finding out or the thought of this being over.
‘You are still on my team then?’
Team. I barely conceal the scoff. Harrison’s team consists of him and whichever of his millionaire buddies he can gain the most out of.
‘Of course.’ I swallow hard. I cannot lose my job. The reality of this situation is that I live in London and have bills to pay and an unforgiving landlord. Sitting in a magical tree with my “one that got away” is nice but it’s only temporary. When this is over, I have to go back to London and still be able to afford my rent and bills.
‘Only you’re not meant to be designing a website for them.’
A shiver goes through me and not the good kind this time. I pull the phone away from my ear and peer at it suspiciously. Has he installed some sort of spyware? A remote secret webcam?
Like he knows I’ve pulled the phone away, he shouts after me. ‘I saw your name on the domain name registry, Felicity.’
Oh. I hadn’t thought of that. I reluctantly put the phone to my ear again, wishing I could accidentally drop it in the sea.
‘I’m monitoring their activity scrupulously.’ He pauses. ‘I haven’t had much choice since my informant has given up on informing me ofanything.’
Informant. That makes me sound like I belong in a gangster movie as some sort of criminal overlord with minions. It also makes me sound like a horrible person who doesn’t deserve the trust of the good people she’s deceiving.
