‘These plans were for the area to the west and south of the Common.’
Will frowned. ‘I remember that land going up for sale a year or so ago. But nothing ever happened so I guess we all forgot about it.’
‘Fisher bought it.’
‘To build a holiday village? Wouldn’t he have to apply for planning permission? Have a consultation with the parish council or something?’
‘The main problem is access. According to the folder, he can’t submit a proposal until he has a way to get people in and out. The Common is protected land, so that’s a no-go, and the northern boundary is all Frances’ farmland, no public roads. South and west, there’s the river and the nature reserve.’
‘Looks like he’s made a bad business decision, then. No wonder he’s been so grumpy lately.’
‘There is one solution.’
Will waited, realising we were about to get to the point.
‘He could use the private road leading up to my cottage, and build the entrance to the resort there.’
‘How would that work?’
‘Ownership of the road is tied up with the cottages. And there are clauses preventing it being used as access for a business, so even if Mack and I didn’t mind visitors driving up and down all hours, even if he didn’t have to route the road through my garden, bulldozing my shed and cutting through a public footpath,even ifwe didn’t mind eco-lodges and a restaurant, a pool and spa, staff buildings and a shopping complex being built right on our doorstep,ifwe wanted to agree to all this in return for generous compensation, we simply couldn’t.
‘But the thing is, ifsomeone elsebought the houses, and those clauses were to mysteriously disappear, given that no one else is likely to know about or protest against them, well, who knows?’
Will digested this for a couple of minutes. ‘There’d be way too many objections and issues for a development that big here.’
‘The folder has a list of people, or businesses and organisations, likely to object. Along with how Fisher plans to persuade them, if necessary. I have to say it does also have a very compelling case about the boost to the local economy and jobs market, the fact that the whole development would be eco-friendly, carbon neutral, offset by some very generous donations in the right places.’
‘I always knew he was a toad.’ Will shook his head. Helped himself to a biscuit.
‘I was on the list.’
‘What?’ Will looked up. ‘Of course – he has to buy your cottage before he can even get started.AndMack’s.’
Hands numb, I opened the folder to the list of names. Next toJenny Birkenshaw,in neat black font, someone had typed ‘money – should buy off at reasonable price. Building regs, red tape, intimidation. Fire?’
Below it was the nameMackenzie West. Beside his name, underlined, it said, ‘WIFE’.
The front door slammed. Ellen was home. I wiped clammy hands on my jeans. Six months ago, I would have run at this point. But my time with the Camerons had taught me that they did things differently. ‘I’ll check on the kids, put the pizzas in the oven.’
I forced down half a slice of pizza while the kids chattered to their dad about the teddy cannon, Dawson’s newfound interest in manga, thanks to a certain girl at art club, and the latest research findings in astrobiology. Mummy was tired and needed a rest, so had permission to skip dinner.
Mummy looked even worse than I felt.
‘Don’t!’ She pointed at me, uncurling herself from the armchair in the tiny study. ‘Don’t you dare cry. If you set me off I’ll not be able to do this.’
I sank into the spinny office chair. ‘Do what?’
She rolled her eyes up to the ceiling. ‘Speak to Brenda.’
‘You’re calling the police?’ The tears, jostling at my eyelids, evaporated.
‘It’s the right thing to do.’ Will came in, carrying three mugs of coffee.
‘Are you talking to your dad first?’ I asked.
Ellen shook her head. ‘It’ll only give him time to figure out a way to wriggle out of it. If he’s broken the law, paid people to vandalise your house and smash up your stuff and… and frighten you and hurt you, if he is really planning to set your house on fire…’ She shook her head again, harder this time, as her voice gave way.
Will sat on the edge of the chair and took her hand. ‘We don’t think this is the first time he’s crossed a line to get what he wants. It’s the first time we’ve been sure, and it’s far worse than anything we suspected, but, well, we can’t turn a blind eye to this.’
