Chapter 11
Bill pushed aside the half-finished plate of bacon and eggs. ‘Mary Kelly is a failed hippy, not a farmer. She’s got no bloody idea.’
‘Fair call,’ said Drew, ‘but why should her stock suffer for it?’ He could feel the hot rush of blood to his temples, something that was happening all too often lately. ‘We can’t just let them starve.’
‘They’ll manage until the autumn break,’ said Bill, with a dismissive wave of his hand. ‘And anyway, what exactly do you propose that I do about it?’
‘It’s your fault in the first place,’ said Drew angrily. ‘You’ve leased every bit of good land she has for a song, pushed her cattle into that rocky top corner. That’s mongrel country. Not enough grass up there for goats.’
‘Nobody put a gun to Mary’s head to make her sign that lease.’ Bill gulped t
