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fields. By his current calculations,
they’d finish up sooner than the week, although whether that was
because there wasn’t as much corn as he’d estimated or because
people were working faster than he expected, he wasn’t
sure.
    He spotted Gavin and Brian
Gilhooley walking together, both with long raffia bags draped from
their shoulders.
    “Morning, Da. Heading out, are you?”
    Mike nodded to Gilhooley,
who slowed his pace as Gavin did as if they were mates and he
wouldn’t carry on walking if Gavin decided to visit a spell with
his father.
    “In a bit. It looks like
rain later so we’ll need to get as much as we can done
today.”
    “Da, Brian here was talking about a way we
could strengthen the camp’s perimeter without stringing ten
kilometers of wire to do it. He said—”
    “While I’m grateful for
Mr. Gilhooley’s vast knowledge and irrefutable expertise on
community defense,” Mike said briskly, “I think we’ll settle for
the sweat of his back to be helping us bring in our harvest. And
again,” Mike looked directly at Gilhooley, “I’ll be thanking you
for your efforts on behalf of the whole camp.”
    “No problem,” Gilhooley
said dryly. “Come on, Gav. The corn won’t pick itself.”
    Mike watched the two walk
off together. Brian was easily ten years older than Gavin, he
guessed. Old enough to be considered wiser and more experienced,
but not so old as to be irrelevant and clueless. He sighed and
walked back to his hut to get his tools for the day’s
work.
    ***
    Papin waited until she saw Sarah run out to
grab the wash from the clothesline before the heavens broke open
and ruined a hard morning’s work. She knew she should help her. Two
hands would bring it in quickly enough.
    But then I wouldn’t have Sarah busy and
looking the other way, would I?
    Careful not to move too
quickly and attract attention, she slipped out the front door and
off the porch. The silly cow was so intent
on pulling the shirts and tea towels off the line, she thought, I could
probably sashay right out in front of her.
    But if Papin had learned one thing in her
life, it was that there was never a need to take chances that
weren’t absolutely vital to take.
    She pulled down the bodice of her singlet to
force out the tops of her breasts to best advantage and hurried
around the back of the cottage. Just one more time, she promised
herself. One more time and then she would leave him alone. The
randy bastard certainly wasn’t able to tell her no, himself. It
looked like she would have to be the responsible one. The mature
one.
    The very thought made her giggle.
    She began to trot to where she knew he
waited for her.
     
    ***
    Mike squinted at the gray
deluge pouring from the skies.
    So much for getting in a
decent day’s harvesting. He closed his
legs around his horse, feeling the wet leather squeak in protest.
Of the four men out by the fence, he was the only one mounted.
Gilhooley, Declan, and Gavin walked the length of the north fence,
which was constructed of wood and some remnant barbwire. Mike knew
it wouldn’t keep anything but cows out of the camp but it clearly
stood as a message to the outside world to stay out.
    Declan had insisted
Gilhooley come with them. The big gypsy and the newcomer walked
together, shoulder to shoulder, down the line of fencing and Mike
found himself wondering what they saw in each other. By Gilhooley’s
speech, he was clearly a Dubliner and, if a few of the facial
expressions Mike had seen him make meant anything, probably a
racist, too.
    In truth, there were few
in the United Kingdom or Ireland who didn’t hold judgment against
gypsies.
    Mike watched them stop fifty yards away. He
could see Declan gesturing beyond the fence and then turn and point
to the camp.
    Whatever the feck they had
in mind, he thought , they could just forget it. He’d
see the entire camp fenced before the end of the year or know the
reason why.
    Gavin trotted over to where
Mike sat on his horse. He