The man folded his map, returned it to his pocket and sat down, looking expectantly at Ewan Potter.
To the surprise of the assembled group, Doctor Long caught his colleague’s eye deferentially, nodded his head and then rose to his feet to respond.
‘Thank you for expressing your concern, Mr… Eh?’
‘Dougal.’
‘Yes, Mr Dougal. Fortunately…’
‘Dougal Thomson.’
‘Sorry, Mr Thomson. Fortunately, I think that I can provide all of you with a degree of reassurance in relation to private water supplies and the likely impact our proposal may have on them. We have commissioned independent experts, ECO-Co, to investigate the local hydrogeology, the catchment areas, subterranean water reservoirs and so forth, and every single dwelling within the site boundary has already been surveyed…’
Sue Lamont, evidently unable to control herself any longer, shouted, semi-incoherent with fury: ‘No, you stupid… basta… man. They have not. There are thirty-one properties that’ll be affected by your proposal and how many of them have received letters from ECO-Co and were surveyed by them?’
Angus Long, aware that the question was addressed to him, looked uncomfortable but did not attempt to respond.
‘Shall I tell you then? They’ve surveyed a pitiful twenty out of the thirty-one. You can’t even get that right, and we’re supposed to let you construct massive concrete foundations, quarries and mile upon mile of track all around us and be “reassured” that nothing untoward will happen. Why don’t you and your tinpot company leave us alone, eh? Pack up your bags, collect your papers and be gone. We all know that the scheme’s a done deal, so stop pretending to consult with us and just go…’
The sheer passion evinced by the woman both appalled and enthralled Alice. There was nothing false or manufactured about it, she was speaking from the heart and all eyes were on her, silently supporting her, egging her on. But Ewan Potter, sensing that any vestigial control he had over the meeting was slipping away, said loudly: ‘Any further questions from anyone?’
‘Your reports-hydrogeology and so on-you say you’ve received them all now. Can we see copies of them? No reason not to share them with us, eh… in the spirit of consultation and all.’ It was a woman speaking, standing up to make sure she was heard.
‘Er… No… They’re only in draft form, unfinalised-so, no. Any other queries?’
Alice watched as the members of the group exchanged glances as if to communicate to each other and to the two outsiders present their contempt for the proceedings. As they were doing so an old lady, sitting in the front row, eased herself to her feet.
‘Aye, I’ve yin.’
Ewan Potter gestured with his hand for her to continue.
‘It’s aboot a’ the burds…’ she began, licking her lips nervously and twiddling her crooked thumbs as she spoke. She had faded brown eyes, the irises encircled by bluish rings, and although she was indoors, her head remained swaddled in a thick, woollen bonnet.
‘The eagles, ye ken…’
Potter said, with pretended patience, as if to encourage her, ‘And what about… the eagles?’
‘Ye’ve nae mentioned thae burds in yer report, but they’ll be the yins tae git chopped up wi’ the giant blades. What’ll ye be daen aboot that? The buzzards an’ that I’m nae sae bothered aboot, there’s that many, but the eagles, noo, they’re special. An’ there’s only the fower o’ them…’
‘We’ve not mentioned the eagles, because there are no eagles,’ Potter replied trenchantly.
‘Says who?’ came back the startled response.
‘Says ECO-Co. They’ve had independent ornithological experts studying the site for two whole days and seen no eagles.’
‘Oh, twa hale days, eh…’ The old lady repeated sarcastically and then continued: ‘Twa hale days… a’ devoted tae the eagles?’
Doctor Long answered, looking less assured than his superior.
‘Well, no, actually. Not two whole days for the eagles as such, but for the bird study in general.’
‘A’ the burds?’ The tone was incredulous.
‘All the birds, yes. The expert ornithologist we employed saw no signs of eagles or eagle activity in any form.’
The old woman smiled mirthlessly before mimicking Long’s reply: ‘“No signs of eagles or eagle activity in any form”. Yon buggers must be blind, then! It’s a disgrace… you’re a’ a disgrace. I’ve stayed oan Gimmerfauld fer the past fifteen year, and I dinnae ken a’ the burds oan it yet. Yous breenge in for twa days an’ tell me that there’s nae eagles ’cause ECO-Co says so. If I’d nae heard it wi’ ma ain ears I’d nae hae believed it. Twa bloody days… that’s a’ it’s worth to yous. Ye’ll nae ken aboot the blackcock neither, I’ll be bound…’
Doctor Long, chastened by the woman’s disdain, said, almost in a whisper: ‘ECO-Co say there are no black game present within the site boundary.’
‘ECO-Co say… ECO-Co say. They’re nae gods, ye ken! Well, tell ECO-Co that there’s a lek less than a quarter mile frae my ain hoose and I’ll show them ma’sel if need be.’ The old lady glared at Firstforce’s representatives and then, unexpectedly and as if she could no longer stand the sight of them, sank back into her chair and covered her eyes with her left hand.
‘About the community-fund…’
The voice came from a bearded man leaning on a large mahogany sideboard. Before either of the company’s representatives had a chance to say anything, Sue Lamont hissed ‘Judas!’ and the fellow, now cowed, hurriedly made for the door.
Ewan Potter looked at his audience, confrontational in his unblinking stare, and then gathered up his papers and crammed them into his briefcase. Without any further words to the group, he and Doctor Long began to converse in low voices before they took their leave of the drawing room, both walking at an exaggeratedly slow pace, as if concerned to conceal the urge to run.
Alice looked at the old lady. Her blue-veined hand, tendons stretched beneath parchment skin, remained over her eyes, but it was trembling and a tear had escaped down the side of her bony nose.
‘They’ve gone now,’ Alice said.
‘I ken, but thanks anyway, dear. Ye’ll be Mr Rice’s daughter, eh? I seen ye in Prue’s kitchen, but I wis talking wi’ Rab. Ye’ll be the policewuman, eh? A sergeant, I’ve heard.’
‘That’s right, a detective sergeant with Lothian & Borders CID. I work at St Leonard’s Street in Edinburgh. You must be one of my parents’ neighbours. Whereabouts do you live?’
‘Aye, I’m a neighbour an’ a friend an’ a’. I stay in the wee white hoose at Crawfourdsden, ’ken on the other side o’ the toll road. Tell yer dad that Jessie wis asking aifter him, eh?’
Thinking that she had now completed her duties, and still reeling from the pyrotechnic display she had witnessed, Alice made her way to the door, eager to return to her parents house and ostensible normality. Prue MacGregor, however, had other ideas, and herded her towards the kitchen where the hardliners within the group were congregating in the absence of their enemy, preparing to reconsider their strategy. In the middle of the kitchen table lay a pile of bound volumes produced by Firstforce, and on top of the heap rested a blue and white striped sugar bowl. Sue Lamont removed one of the books and began flicking through it.
‘Look at that! Their own ZVIs show that the turbines will be visible on the other side of the Forth. Let’s see… they’ll be seen practically the whole way up to Perth.’
‘Yes, yes, we know that, but the point is what are we going to do?’
The accent was English, and the tone languid. Alice glanced towards the speaker, who had his back to the others, inspecting the fridge for milk. Having found it, the man sat down and continued. ‘We should have tried to nobble their mast, convince them that the wind “harvest” would be insufficient, but we didn’t. We should have complained to the Police about their trespassing on our ground to put up sound equipment, but we didn’t. We should have reported our Community Councillor for not agreeing to a special meeting, but we didn’t. All we do is talk and talk and talk, and so far, that’s got us nowhere.’