private property

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Bill walked into the office of the Mayor to find Henry and John Dove in conversation with a man, dressed in a suit and a younger woman who sat quietly, taking notes. Matty had gone to the house to take care of some business and check on an important email.


"Bill, me son, Ise so glad dat youse be 'ere," Henry said as soon as Bill walked in.


Bill looked quickly at the man and then back to Henry.

"What seems to be the issue, Henry?"


"Dis 'ere man 'as been babblin' on fer the last 'alf 'our 'bout some government decree or someting. 'e bes tryin' to tell us dat 'e 'as da authority to close down the Bay."


Bill sat on the edge of the desk and faced the man.

"Is that so?"


The man stood up.

"My name is  Eric Anderson and this is my assistant, Nina Rose."

He offered Bill his hand, but Bill simply stared.

"Okay then."


"Why are you here?"


The man picked up some papers that were on Henry's desk.

"I am here on behalf of the government of Newfoundland and Labrador. I have documents here concerning the closure of Tuckamore Bay and the relocation of the 148 residents."


Bill shrugged his shoulders.

"That does not answer my question. Why are you here?"


The man played the documents back on the desk.

"May I ask who you are?"

He looked at Henry and John.

"I was under the impression that I was talking to the officials of Tuckamore Bay."


"Youse is," Henry piped in.

"Ise be da Mayor and John 'ere, 'e is da village engineer."


Eric Anderson looked back at Bill.

"Then why am I talking to you?"


"Because I own Tuckamore Bay."


The man looked confused.

"What do you mean, you own Tuckamore Bay?"


Bill stood up and took a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.


"I don't believe that you are allowed to smoke here."


"Really," Bill smiled, as he lit the cigarette.


Henry put a half filled ashtray on his desk.


"I believe that you are allowed to smoke on your private property. Is that right?"


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