Beyond, at the bend in the drive, where the soaked grass hung long over the gravel, he saw the three men. They seemed unperturbed by the weather. They did not move and made no attempt to signal to him. They simply watched. He tried to ignore them. As Ellie came round from the stable yard, her face hardly visible under the droop of her mackintosh hood, he jumped forwards, springing towards her. ‘I’m not supposed to make friends with you,’ he announced. She pushed her hood from her face and looked at him coldly. He had not expected this, and for a moment he hesitated. ‘Apparently people like you have privatized the country for your own benefit.’ His enthusiasm sounded too strained now, rehearsed, but he pressed on. ‘For generations, you’ve taken food from the mouths of the disenfranchised poor by monopolizing the best land for your own use and luxury.’ He shook his head in mock disappointment. ‘So now we’re not allowed to be friends.’ ‘You didn’t tell me,’ she replied.
