Aftermath

away until just a handful remained. Donna pulled up a chair next to him, a drink in her hand too. Richard remained dry—their designated driver, ready to take the controls of the helicopter in a hurry if they needed him to. And although it was looking increasingly likely they were going to be spending the night here, he wasn’t taking any chances.
    Caron was still sitting at the back of the classroom with Driver. Harte walked over and sat down next to her.
    “You okay?” he asked.
    “Fine,” she replied, before adding, “all things considered. It’s a little stifling in here tonight, don’t you think? Bit too much testosterone for my liking.”
    Harte smirked. Good old caustic Caron. Hers was the wine-addled voice of reason. He’d forgotten her uncanny ability to cut through the bullshit and see things for what they were.
    “That helicopter guy,” she whispered, “he said they’ve got a girl on this island of theirs that’s pregnant.”
    “They have. I met the father.”
    “He’s here?”
    “Back in Chadwick. They didn’t let him come here. Didn’t want him to risk butting heads with Jas and his mates.”
    “Sensible. Shame, though.”
    “What’s a shame?”
    “The pregnant girl. Having a kid born into all this mess.”
    “And that’s half the problem, I think. No one knows if it’ll be born at all. Providing it doesn’t come out coughing up blood, it should be okay … I guess.”
    “Suppose. I don’t fancy its chances, though. Poor little thing will probably grow up wild. Doesn’t bear thinking about really.”
    “So what are you going to do, Caron? Stay here or leave?”
    “I’m not sure yet,” she answered honestly. “There are plenty of aspects which appeal, but you know me. All that hard work and physical graft? I’ll always get my hands dirty when I have to, but I’m no cleaner and I’m certainly not a farmer. My childbearing days are long over, so I’m not a lot of use to anyne anymore. Mind you, that’s how I like it. I just want to retire quietly. All I need is a decent supply of food, a few bottles of wine, and a library. I’m happy just reading and drinking until I drop.”
    “I know you too well. You say that, but I think you want more than that.”
    “I quite like the look of that helicopter pilot,” she half joked.
    “You know what I mean.”
    “A little peace and quiet and some booze, that’ll do me nicely, thank you very much.”
    “The island sounds peaceful. Mind you, try finding somewhere that isn’t quiet these days.”
    “I know. Truth is, I’m really not sure what I want to do yet. I need a good night’s sleep to try and help me decide. I can see plenty of reasons for staying, but I can find as many good reasons to go.”
    “Well, I’m going,” Driver said, eavesdropping on their conversation. “I’ll tell you this for nothing, first chance I get I’m buggering off to this island. Always fancied retiring to the country, I did.”

 
     
    28
     
    Harte hardly slept all night. He’d laid awake on a spare sofa bed in one of the caravans, the trailer next to Jackson’s, where Kieran and Jas slept—along with Ainsworth and Field, who’d both moved in after the “accident” with a wastepaper bin, a bottle of booze, and a box of matches which had caused the fire. He’d seen Donna, Cooper, and Richard go into Jackson’s caravan late last night, and they hadn’t yet come out. His restless night had mostly been spent looking out of windows. He watched the caravan next door for a while, then turned the other way to check on the helicopter in the middle of the courtyard, desperate for it not to leave without him.
    After tossing and turning restlessly for hours, he finally fell into a relatively deep sleep around four. Noises outside woke him later and he got up with a start. He was out of bed so fast it made him feel nauseous. He pressed his face against the window and saw that there were people gathered around the helicopter. He ran outside, frantically pulling his clothes on as he went.
    “Morning,” Richard said casually as Harte blustered toward him, all arms and legs and panic. “All right, are you?”
    “Thought I was going to miss my flight,” he answered breathlessly.
    “You are,” Cooper said from behind him, startling him. He spun around. Jackson was there too.
    “What are you talking about?” he asked. He turned to look at Jackson. “What’s he on about?”
    “We were talking in the caravan after the meeting,”