Wilkins was feeling sore everywhere. Everything was throbbing, his pride had been giving a right royal kicking, and to add insult to injury, there was a fire burning between his legs where the stinging nettles had caressed his testicles. A dog, one belonging to one of the crusties that attend festivals, had urinated on his head. At least, he hoped that it had been a dog; you never knew with the types that came to these places. His office had gone too, and so had his stash. He felt particularly aggrieved because the magazines were vintage and had taken years to collect. He sat back down in what was left of the Volvo and thumped the dashboard.
“b****y pikeys!”
Odhran had turned his ankle when he jumped from the caravan. He hadn’t noticed it at first, but he was well aware of it now. Each s
