Sunday 15th July 2012
A message delivered
“LOST property, found in one of our cars. I volunteered to return them to you.”
She indicated two bags and Brendan’s violin case, on the step beside her. I had last seen them being put into the storage compartment of the cage that took us to the hotel.
“The Pry Minister has decided that you are not to be trusted. You failed to keep your appointment with him earlier today. You offended the people of the United King Dumb by going to a public house when you were scheduled to have an audience with her majesty the queen. And you have proved your deceitfulness by refusing to comply with the Guvver Munt’s request that you read a statement to the press concerning your time in safe custody under my supervision.
“Virgulle. Everyone has tried to make your visit here as comfortable and as mutually beneficial as possible, but the Guvver Munt has concluded your behaviour is not in keeping with what one should expect of an ambassador.
“The Pry Minister will be on holiday for the next few days. When he returns, arrangements will be made for you to be handed over to the Americans. Good day to you.”
She walked down the steps, along the path and out through the gate to a waiting cage. It seemed strange seeing her without her dogs in close attendance.
“Who or what was that?” whispered Dan.
“She is called Isobel, or the Barren Ness.”
“Cow,” he muttered, as the cage drove away. “I wouldn’t like to meet her down a dark alley.”
We took in the bags and Dan closed the door. Brendan, who had come into the hall while Isobel was delivering her message, let out a long sigh.
“That’s the last thing we needed.”
“Because it seems Ray Bilton has finally given in to pressure from the white house. They’re going to deport you, going to pass the buck and give you to the yanks. Send you across the pond to the land of the free.”
“The land of the free? That will be a good place for me, will it not? I will be able to go where I wish and do what I wish. Yes?”