A Highland Christmas (13 page)

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Authors: M.C. Beaton

BOOK: A Highland Christmas
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Priscilla laughed. ‘That bad?’

‘That bad.’

And what’s all this greening business?’

‘It’s that bossy woman. You weren’t at the church hall?’

‘No.’

‘She is from the council, and she wants us to put all our rubbish into separate containers. There come the big bins.’

Priscilla looked along the waterfront. A crane was lifting the first of the huge bell-shaped objects into place. ‘We don’t like change,’ she said. ‘They’ll rebel.
They won’t put a single bottle or newspaper in any of those bins.’

Ah, but you haven’t seen the green dustman yet. There he is!’

Fergus, resplendent in his new uniform, had appeared. He was standing with his hands behind his back, rocking on his heels, his face shadowed by his huge peaked cap.

‘Heavens,’ said Priscilla faintly. ‘All he needs to complete that ensemble is a riding crop or a swagger stick.’

‘I think that uniform means trouble,’ said Hamish. ‘Have you noticed that traffic wardens and people like that turn into fascist beasts the moment they get a uniform
on?’

‘A dustman can’t do much.’

‘He can do a lot in the way of petty bullying. The Currie sisters didn’t give Fergus a Christmas box, and he didn’t collect their rubbish until they complained to the
council.’

‘Well, there you are. Any bullying, they’ll all complain to the council, and then it’ll stop.’

‘If that Fleming woman will listen to anyone.’

‘What’s her game? Is she a dedicated environmentalist? It said on the flyer that she was in charge of the council’s environment department.’

‘I think, talking of bullies, that she likes to find ways of spending the taxpayers’ money to order people around. In fact, here she comes.’

Mrs Fleming drove along the waterfront while they watched. She got out of the car. Fergus strutted up to her.

Priscilla exploded into giggles. ‘Would you believe it, Hamish? Fergus
saluted
her.’

Hamish laughed as well. The summer days and lack of crime on his beat were making him lazier than ever and dulling his usual intuition. He did not guess that Fergus’s silly salute would
make Mrs Fleming not hear one word against him, and so set in train a chain of events which would lead to horror.

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