“I’ll have a word with Robbie,” Red Joe said. “Is there any other council business?” He looked hopefully around for someone who wasn’t Mavis.
Amy Nesmith waved her hand, and Baby Joe gurgled on her lap. “It’s not really council business, but I wanted to get the word out.”
“It’s never really council business,” Eddie said brightly. “That’s the charm of these meetings!”
Red Joe exhaled heavily.
“I’m going to get a truck for the fish farm,” Amy said, and it was like she’d said she wanted to feed babies to sharks.
Mavis gasped and jabbed her finger in my direction. “It’s bad enough with his bike, disturbing everyone’s peace at all hours!”
I pasted on a pleasant smile that probably made me look like an idiot.
“Every time we get equipment, Elias has to pick it up from the jetty in his boat and get it halfway around the island,” Amy said. “It’s impractical. And, when we’re up and running and ready to sell, it’ll be twice as bloody ridiculous if we have to do everything by boat. The jetty is the only place where it’s deep enough for the bigger boats to dock. If we end up selling to the mainland, that’ll be our pickup point. We’re going to need a couple of trucks to get our stock to the boats.”
“Oh, now it’s a couple of trucks!” Mavis exclaimed, aghast.
“We haven’t had trucks on the island since the Americans in the war,” said Tall Tom. “You remember that, Red Joe.”
I was pretty sure nobody in this room, even Tall Tom, was old enough to remember that.
“Where does it end, Red Joe?” Mavis asked. “You’re as bad as Short Clarry with his mopeds for tourists and his shuttle buses, and look how he ended up!”
“I’m not talking about turning Dauntless into Bali,” Amy said. “I just want a couple of trucks. They’d be on the other side of the island, and only come into the village once or twice a week at the most.”
“There’s no law against it,” Red Joe said.
“There ought to be!” Mavis said, and looked at me. Hard.
Shit.
I cleared my throat. “As long as everyone has the appropriate licences and doesn’t commit any traffic offences, it’s not a police matter.”
“What’s the good of you then, if you can’t even stop trucks from coming onto the island?” Mavis demanded.
“I can only stop illegal things,” I said. “Trucks aren’t against the law.”
Mavis’s expression soured. There was no way I’d ever be able to buy milk now.
Amy shot me a grin. “They’re not against the law, see, Mavis?”
Mavis smouldered in her chair like a volcano, if volcanoes wore bright pink puffer coats.
“Speaking of Bali,” Red Joe said. “Well, not Bali exactly, but tourism in general... I got an email this morning from some American bloke. Apparently Short Clarry was in contact with him for a while. This bloke runs some hotel chain or something, and he might be coming to look at Dauntless.”
A murmur ran through the room, equal parts excited, outraged, and perturbed.
“I’ve had a look at his website,” Red Joe said, “and it’ll probably come to nothing. I don’t think Dauntless is—what did you call it, Eddie?”
“On brand,” Eddie said. “His other resorts are all hot stone massages, yoga, and luxurious relaxation packages. If you try to be one with nature here, a goat attacks you.”
“But most of Dauntless is government owned,” Red Joe said, and gave everyone a moment to mutter and grumble. “So again, if he makes a deal with the government to lease some land or buy it, that’s out of our hands.”
“This is our island!” someone up the back exclaimed.
“First trucks and now hotels and Americans!” Mavis shook her head. “Where does it all end? Nothing good will come of it, Red Joe. You mark my words.”
“I’ll make a note of it in the minutes,” Eddie said helpfully.
