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The following day, a swell of people and placards all around them, Beatrice and Caspian merged into the march. In front of them, women from the Marshall Islands in traditional dress. Behind them, a group of young men entirely clad in black, holding aloft red flags, entirely surrounded by police. To their left, a banner reading CROFTING MAKES US COOLER. To their right, clowns, a ringmaster, an inflatable elephant and lion, a couple on stilts, an aerialist. Beatrice yelled, 'Isla!' as the red-head climbed up onto a statue of a man on a horse, and placed a cone upon its head. Isla waved back down at them, then posed for photos by the crowd below, holding a placard that read:

HERE IS THE BIRD THAT NEVER FLEW

HERE IS THE TREE THAT NEVER GREW

HERE IS THE BELL THAT NEVER RANG

HERE IS THE FISH THAT NEVER SWAM

LET GLASGOW FLOURISH!

A rainbow arced over the city square, sun breaking through, respite from the early morning deluge. Beatrice took out a hip flask from her waterproof, and offered it to Caspian.

'Negroni?' he enquired.

'I thought I'd go a bit more local. Boulevardier, with some Glaswegian whisky...'

Caspian took the flask, and toasted her.

They walked for a little further in silence. 'Do you feel optimistic, Caspian?' asked Beatrice, taking his hand. 'About the outcome from the conference? About the future?'

'To be honest, I don't know. I want to believe, but politicians... big business...'

Beatrice nodded, her expression downcast. 'Yes. I feel the same. But I will do all I can for the publishing industry. We must enact change at a systemic and global level.'

Caspian nodded. 'The work continues.'

'Yes,' she replied, as they walked onward towards the green.


THE END, but...

The COP26 Kabuff: A Beatrice Deft ShortWhere stories live. Discover now