"So your Dad's an MP ?" exclaimed Yaxley Farcett. "And where are they 
planning to build this Manure Burning power station then ?" Fiona stood in the middle of the drove, spun round in a circle, hair trailing behind, with arms flung out wide at her sides and said...'Right here. In the middle of all this glorious nothingness. Dad seems to think it'll please people because of the jobs it'll create, but he's got it wrong this time. The locals are up in arms" Yaxley looked around him and frowned, 'But no one lives here do they ? There's only Jak and Fred down there about another half a mile away and nothing between them and the village. What's the problem ?' Fiona grabbed him by the shoulders and glared at him, noses almost touching. 'Because, my Yorkshire Drainage Inspector, around here we like 'nothing'. We like the big fields, the big sky, the wind, the fact that you can see for miles. We don't want a bloody great big shit belching factory down here !". Yaxley laughed, 'So you won't be supporting your old dad on this one then ?' Fiona stomped off down the drove and shouted over her shoulder "No I bloody well won't. Not where this is concerned". Yaxley jogged after her and caught her up. "Shall we change the subject ? It's too late for politics'. They carried on walking in silence for a while until the lights of Fred Ricketts caravan became brighter. Yaxley pulled on Fiona's hand and they walked along the grass track towards the caravan.
Although Yaxley had no particular reason to be suspicious of Fred Ricketts, he still felt curious 
enough to walk the circumference of the caravan, Fiona still gripping his hand. 'This is a bit clandestine, is'nt it ? Surely you don't suspect old Fred of anything ?' she hissed, although there wasn't a soul within earshot.
enough to walk the circumference of the caravan, Fiona still gripping his hand. 'This is a bit clandestine, is'nt it ? Surely you don't suspect old Fred of anything ?' she hissed, although there wasn't a soul within earshot. Yaxley put his finger to his lips and moved a milk crate that was by the caravan door to beneath a window. He stood up on the crate and cupped his hands around his eyes to look inside. 'Well Sherlock. What can you see, apart from fishing tackle and dead eels ?' whispered Fiona. Farcett turned and looked back over his shoulder at the girl; 'Well, he reads a lot for a start. There's bookshelves all round the walls filled with reference books and biographies and lots of heavy weight stuff...Fred isn't a Jeffrey Archer man, and it's really tidy. I expected it to be a right pigsty, but it's really nice inside'
There was a throaty cough and a voice said '...And what did you expect it to be like, young Farcett?'
Yaxley and Fiona both spun round and were greeted by the sight of Fred Ricketts standing not ten yards away, his bicycle at his side and Bella his dog panting softly at his feet. Apart from feeling acute embarrassment at being caught out so blatantly, Yaxley was feeling extremely curious as to how Fred could have crept up on them so quietly. So he asked him. 'Fred, How the hell did you creep up on us like that ?' Yaxley thought that would be a better strategy than to bluster straight into an apology.
He liked Fred and hadn't meant to offend him by nosing through his windows. Ricketts wheeled his bicycle up to the caravan and leaned it up against it. 'Country ways' replied Ricketts 'are different from City ways young Farcett. When I want to be quiet I can be very very quiet and when I want to be loud I can be the loudest bugger you've ever met... Tonight I'm quiet.' He climbed the two steps to the door of the caravan and put the key in the lock. 'Are you coming in for a nightcap then ?' he asked over his shoulder. Yaxley and Fiona glanced at each other and nodded agreement before following the old man and his dog through the door.
