Page 40 of Come Fly With Me

She snatched the microphone from Peter Dwyer, who’d been asking when the new jetty would be finished so he could tie histhirdboat to it. Dougal made a mental note to talk to Peter about leaving space for others to use the facility once it was finished. He was only one man. He couldn’t sail in more than one boat at a time.

“Hello.” Betty’s voice echoed around the room as she shouted into the mic. “Hel—”

The sound abruptly cut off, and Betty shook the mic as though that would fix it.

“Daniel, what’s going on?” Dougal asked the man on the sound desk.

“She has a right to talk,” Daniel Docherty said, “but there’s nothing in the council rules that says she has a right to everybody listening to her.”

The laughter was raucous. Dougal pinched the bridge of his nose. He had a headache starting, and he didn’t think it was due to his sinuses. “Turn the sound back up, Daniel. Or Lake there will do it for you.”

Lake Benson seemed surprised at suddenly being part of the argument, but if anyone would help Betty speak, it would be the Englishman. For some strange reason, Lake had no problem listening to Betty on a daily basis.

With a show of reluctance, Daniel turned the sound back on, and Dougal signaled to Betty that she could talk.

“Right,” she said as her bushy eyebrows furrowed. “I’ve been learning how to be social on the media.” She held up a phone. “And I’ve joined The Face Book. Harry’s been helping me.” She pointed in his direction, and the poor sod’s whole head turned red while he slid down in his chair. The evil wee bat might as well have painted a target on his back.

“He says,” Betty continued, “that to talk to people and share my messages on The Face Book, I need to have invisible links to people. And the only way to do that is if everybody becomes my friend on The Face Book.”

There was a loud and stretched-out groan.

“Now,” Betty shouted over the noise, “don’t be thinking that this makes you my friend in real life. Friends on The Face Book doesnae mean you’re really friends. What did you call it?” she called to Harry but answered herself before he could. “Oh, aye, an audience. I need an audience.”

“Harry Boyle.” Morag McKay, who owned the town’s bakery, called over to him from the other side of the hall. “Consider yourself banned from my shop. No more pies for you, son.”

“Come on, Morag.” Harry sat up straight. “That’s no’ fair. What was I supposed to do when she handed me her phone and asked for help? Just say no?”

“Aye!” the room replied.

“I object,” Margaret Campbell said. “How is this town business?”

“Because I’m part of this town,” Betty snapped. “Now, Harry helped me send everybody a friend invite on The Face Book.”

“Friend request,” Harry said helpfully.

“Aye, that,” Betty carried on. “But it’s been days, and none of you have answered.”

The silence was so thick you could have sliced it up and served it with tea.

“Right now,”—Betty waved her phone—“I only have one friend in my audience, and that’s Harry.”

“Harry’d better get used to having only one friend too after tonight.” Shona McBride shot him a disgusted look.

“Hey,” a voice called from the back of the room, where the doors had just opened. “Are you picking on Harry?”

Shona’s head turned red as Harry’s wife strode to the front to sit beside her husband. Although moving out of her Goth phase, Magenta still wore a lot of black eyeliner and dyed her hair to match. But, for the meeting, she was wearing a bright green T-shirt that proclaimed her love of Baby Yoda.

“You’re all really good at using Harry’s good nature against him when it suits you,” Magenta told everyone. “So, don’t you dare blame him for helping Betty. Especially when you know that the woman steamrolls straight over everybody in her path.”

Betty cackled a laugh that would have sounded perfectly normal coming out of the Wicked Witch of the West.

“Sorry, Harry.” Shona sounded contrite.

“You can buy my pies if you want,” Morag added.

Magenta nodded, folded her arms, and proceeded to stand guard over Harry, who looked relieved to have her there.

“As I was sayin’.” Betty’s voice blasted out. “Everybody needs to go on The Face Book and sign up to be my friend.”