Don't Get Me Wrong Read Free Page B

round the country with her guitar, tramping through muddy fields in Wellington boots.”
    Eva laughed.
    Kim glared at him. “What would you know?”
    Eva’s face was always angles and shadows. But tonight, whenever she stopped smiling, you could see she had dark circles under her eyes. Kim frowned. Was something wrong? Eva was never normally ground down by anything. Sometimes she found other people puzzling. But generally she believed that life sorted itself out if you didn’t stress too much about the details.
    â€œHe came with me once,” said Eva. “To a community in west Wales. A little farming settlement in the woods. I said he couldn’t judge until he’d experienced it.”
    Harry looked mournful. “They made me eat lentils.”
    â€œVegetarianism,” said Kim, “is a much more efficient way of feeding the world.”
    â€œAnd fermented tofu.”
    â€œIt’s about putting precious land to the best use.”
    â€œAnd hemp.” Harry frowned. “Or is that what you wear?”
    A duel of wits with Harry excluded everyone else. Kim knew this. But she couldn’t stop herself. “You can’t pretend that eating a steak is just an individual choice. It isn’t. What you do affects other people.”
    Izzie’s mother glanced down at her empty plate with an expression of alarm.
    â€œBasically,” said Harry, “Eva was born in the wrong century. She wants to turn the clock back. No TV, no cars, no modern medicine. Her ideal would be some kind of medieval village.Getting water from a well. Milking by hand. Grubbing for potatoes in the dirt.” His expression was wide-eyed and innocent. “Full of people with boils and bad teeth.”
    As if, thought Kim. Eva radiates light. She shines. Children and old ladies gaze after her with wistful smiles. Men stare at her, wondering whether their lives could have been different with a woman like that at their side. Eva, in her tatty hippie clothes, drifting along in her own thoughts, doesn’t notice the effect she has on other people. But I do. And it’s my job to protect her.
    â€œThat’s not what Eva thinks at all.” Kim gripped the edge of the table, feeling the starched white linen under her hands. “She’s searching for a different way of life. It’s not about turning the clock back. It’s about treading lightly on the earth.”
    â€œMaking walls out of mud and straw,” said Harry.
    â€œLiving in balance with nature.”
    â€œChanting. There was a lot of chanting in Wales.”
    â€œIt’s a big movement now,” said Kim loudly, because raising the volume seemed the only way to drown Harry out. “There are communities all over Europe. Germany, Italy, France, Spain, Portugal, Lithuania—”
    â€œWe had to use compost toilets. In the dark. Surrounded by Welsh sheep.”
    â€œâ€”and all across the world. Australia, Brazil, the US—”
    â€œShe wants to live in an ecovillage,” said Harry, leaning sideways towards Izzie’s father, who was looking completely bewildered.
    â€œWho does? Eva or Kim?”
    â€œYou know,” said Harry, “I often wonder the same thing myself.”
    â€œIt must be a lot cheaper growing your own food,” said Izzie’s mum. “Sometimes I go shopping and I can’t believe my eyes. The prices they charge! I said to the girl in Morrisons’, these days you have to rob a bank just to pay for a KitKat.”
    â€œClimate change is caused by human greed and an overreliance on cheap oil.” Kim’s voice rose above the hubbub of the restaurant. Diners at other tables were looking up. One of the waiters stood rooted to the spot, transfixed. “We can’t carry on making selfish decisions, or we’ll run out of resources. Politicians keep talking about growth. But what they mean is rampant consumerism.”
    â€œWould anyone like