The New Policeman Read Online Free Page B

several years, under environmental protection legislation. J.J., like his mother, thought that Anne might be suggesting they had broken the law.
    “That was a long time ago,” said Helen. “When I was a child.”
    “Of course,” said Anne. “I can see that. I was just interested to see how careful they were to preserve the fort. People in those days had such respect.”
    “Not just in those days,” said Helen. “I don’t know of any farmers who would touch a fairy ring. They’d know it would bring bad luck down upon them.”
    “They still believe that?” said Anne.
    “Any that I know,” said Helen.
    The terrier was sniffing around the dresser, vacuuming up bread crumbs. J.J. could see that Bosco’s patience was wearing thin.
    “It’s good to hear,” said Anne. “But that one is sucha good one. I must put it on the map when we next revise it. Would you mind?”
    “Why would I?” said Helen. She had no objection to people walking on her land, and Ciaran positively encouraged it, being of the belief that whatever the Land Registry might say, no one could really be said to own land.
    “Is there a souterrain in it, do you know?” said Anne.
    “No,” said Helen.
    “What’s a souterrain?” asked J.J.
    “Underground houses,” said Anne. “Most of the ring forts round here have them. Some have several rooms with beautiful flagstone ceilings. Have you never been inside one?” J.J. shook his head. He hadn’t, though he knew now what she was talking about. A lot of his friends had been inside places like that. They called them caves.
    “I will show you,” said Anne Korff. “Come down to my house one fine day. There is one fairly near where I live. I will show you.” She turned back to Helen. “So, this ring fort. Has it ever been excavated?”
    Helen didn’t get as far as answering. J.J. could have prevented what happened next; he had seen it coming a long way off. The talk of the souterrain haddistracted him, and while he wasn’t looking, Lottie had discovered Bosco’s food bowl. There was nothing in it, but that didn’t prevent the old dog from being fiercely possessive about it. There was an explosion of barks and yelps. Suddenly there seemed to be dogs everywhere. Everyone started yelling at them at once, and at the first safe opportunity Anne whipped the quivering terrier up under her arm, from where it peered out at everyone with a victimized expression.
    “Sorry about that,” said Anne. “We’ll get out of your way now.”
    “Do you need a lift?” said Helen.
    “No, no. My car is at the bottom of the hill.”
    And she was gone.
    Helen sat down and picked up the concertina. J.J. began to rosin his bow. But before they could start playing, Ciaran came in.
    “What did Anne Korff want?” he asked but didn’t wait for an answer. “That stew must be ready now. Where’s Marian?”
    “Learning her lines for the play,” said Helen. “But no one’s eating anything until we’ve gone over these tunes.”
    Ciaran went off to find Marian, and Helen started fingering the keys again. She gave J.J. an A and hetuned the fiddle. Then she began fishing again, and before long a haunting little jig began to emerge from the bellows. J.J. had never heard it before.
    “It’s lovely,” he said, when she had played it through twice. “What’s it called?”
    “I don’t remember the name of it. My grandfather used to play it.”
    Helen’s grandfather. His great-grandfather. J.J. went cold again. “On the flute, was it?” he asked.
    Helen looked up. “How did you know that?”
    He didn’t answer.
    “J.J.?” Helen could see from his expression that something was wrong. “Has someone been telling you stories?”
    Ciaran and Marian breezed in. “You’re overruled,” said Ciaran. “Two against two. Maz has to get to drama. We have to eat now.”
    This time, neither J.J. nor Helen had any resistance to offer.

     
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THE CONCERTINA REEL
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10
    “Right,” said Ciaran,