by Lucy Daniels
For the next few moments, Mandy’s attention was taken up by her wobbly navigation across the rope swings, but when they reached the other side, she couldn’t help but wish he had chosen another topic of conversation. ‘I’m not getting on with it at all,’ she admitted.
Jimmy raised his eyebrows. ‘I thought everything would be settled by now.’
‘It’s not.’ Mandy shook her head. ‘There’ve been so many problems with the mortgage application.’ There was a long pause while he obviously cast around for yet another topic of conversation, but with a sudden sense of pulling herself together, Mandy blurted out, ‘I’d have had better luck applying for a mortgage on a house built of straw, even if the cottage was in a wood filled with big bad wolves.’
To her enormous relief, the tension dissipated as Jimmy laughed. He put his hands on his hips, addressing her in a mock serious tone. ‘Well, Little Red Riding Hood,’ he said, ‘unless you want to be running around the forest in the dark, we should think about tackling the rest of the course.’
Mandy smiled back, relief flowing through her. ‘Lead on!’ she declared, gesturing with her gloved hand.
‘That’s the last,’ Jimmy said half an hour later as they scrambled down one final net onto the hard-packed earth under the trees. ‘For today, at least.’ Mandy knew there were different elements in other parts of the forest, but the light was beginning to fade. ‘Can I interest you in a cup of tea to warm up?’ Jimmy asked.
‘Yes, please,’ she said, glancing at her watch. There was still time before she had to get back for evening surgery. They walked across the paddock with the dogs leaping around them.
Mandy had often wondered where Jimmy lived. Despite her professional visits to Welford Hall, she had never been aware of staff housing near the main yard. After a few minutes’ walk along the main road, they turned into a small lane edged with stone walls and tangled verges. Tucked away a couple of hundred yards beyond the junction, Mandy saw a neat redbrick house with a dark slate roof. As they came nearer, she realised it was a pair of old-fashioned farmworkers’ cottages. Each house had a white-fenced front garden containing a tree: a leafless cherry on one side, and an ancient, gnarly apple tree on the other, laden with white-berried mistletoe.
Jimmy stopped as they reached the gate of the cottage on the right-hand side, which had the apple tree. He pushed open the gate and stepped back for Mandy to go through. A path led to the white-painted front door. The three dogs pushed past Mandy to race ahead and stand panting on the step.
‘Welcome to Mistletoe Cottage,’ Jimmy announced.
‘What a perfect name!’ Mandy said as she admired the bountiful tree.
‘Jared Boone, the estate manager for Welford Hall, lives in Cherry Tree Farm.’ Jimmy nodded to the neighbouring house before turning to put his key in the front door. It opened with a scraping sound and the dogs rushed forwards as Jimmy stepped in and turned on the light.
The hallway was painted white and there were red tiles on the floor. Mandy wiped her feet on the rough doormat and reached down to pat Sky, who had hung back, suddenly wary of being inside a strange house.
‘This way,’ murmured Jimmy, heading towards a kitchen at the back. The room looked sparse but functional. There were white-painted wooden cupboards with dark worktops, and an old gas cooker stood near the curtainless sash window. Beyond the glass, the landscape was thrown into shadow by the kitchen light.
Zoe and Simba swirled around the floor while Jimmy stood at the sink to fill the kettle. Opening a cupboard, he pulled out two cream-coloured mugs and from another, he retrieved two teabags from a box. Then he turned round to lean against the counter and smiled at Mandy. He pulled a rueful face as he saw her glancing around the room. ‘Sorry about the lack of interior design,’ he said.
Mandy, who had pulled out a kitchen chair and sat down, shrugged. ‘My interior design skills are much the same,’ she confessed. ‘Hopefully James is going to steer me in the right direction.’
Jimmy laughed. ‘Maybe I should ask James for advice as well.’ He turned away, waiting for the kettle to switch itself off, then poured boiling water into the mugs. ‘Milk?’ he asked, opening the fridge.
‘Yes, please.’
‘Come through.’ Lifting the mugs, Jimmy headed back out into the hall, waiting for Mandy and Sky to catch up before turning into the living room. It had light blue woodchipped wallpaper and an old-fashioned brick fireplace. ‘I need to get the fire lit,’ he said. Mandy noticed there was already paper and wood in the grate. Striking a match, he set the paper alight and as it caught, began to place coal from a scuttle onto the sticks. ‘I’m afraid it’ll take a while to warm up,’ he told her.
Mandy stepped across the worn carpet and sank into the sofa. A faint scent of dogs greeted her. ‘It’s very nice,’ she said.
Jimmy’s green eyes held relief. ‘Just need to wash …’ He waggled his coal-blackened fingers. ‘Back in a minute.’
Mandy sat back and studied the room, with one hand resting on Sky’s head. The only ornament was a pewter pot on the mantelpiece that seemed to be filled with pens. In the corner beside the fire, a small TV stood on a pine stand. There were two dog beds on the far side of the fireplace, though for now, Zoe and Simba were sprawled on the rug in front of the fire.
‘Would you like a bun?’ Jimmy appeared in the doorway, clutching a round cake tin. Removing the lid, he held it out to Mandy. Inside there was a small pile of fairy cakes. They were all different shapes and sizes and garishly iced. Some were green, some pink, with multi-coloured hundreds and thousands scattered over the tops. ‘The twins were over at the weekend,’ he explained. ‘We made them together.’
Mandy tried not to smile at the thought of Jimmy painstakingly decorating fairy cakes with eight-year-old Abi and Max. She helped herself to a pink one. ‘Thanks,’ she said. The little sponge cakes tasted better than they looked, she decided a moment later as she chewed. ‘They’re lovely,’ she declared.
Jimmy looked pleased as he sat down beside her. ‘They are, aren’t they?’ he agreed.
‘How long did it take you to make them?’ she asked. ‘Last time I made a cake it took me all afternoon. Even then, it was barely edible. You’d think after all those years watching Gran I’d be an expert.’ She took another bite.
Jimmy reached out and took one of the pink fairy cakes, holding it aloft on the palm of his hand as if it was a work of art. ‘Magnificent, isn’t it?’ He grinned. ‘It took us all afternoon as well,’ he admitted, ‘but at least they taste good.’
There was a flurry of black and white fur and Jimmy found his hand suddenly empty. The look of consternation on his face was so comical, that Mandy laughed. ‘It appears that Sky agrees with you,’ she said.
Jimmy looked over at the fireplace, where Sky had retreated, having wolfed the cake straight down. She looked pleased with herself, thought Mandy. ‘I guess she still needs a bit more training around food,’ she said.
Jimmy considered Sky, his head on one side. ‘She was so thin when you got her, she probably had to take all the opportunities she could,’ he said. Reaching out, he took another cake from the tin. ‘Will she be all right after eating the paper case?’ he asked.
Mandy watched as Sky edged closer to Zoe, who was lying as close to the fire as possible. Her beloved collie seemed to be feeling much more at home as she curled up beside the other dogs. She did too, she realised. It was cosy sitting together in front of the warming blaze. ‘She should be fine,’ she replied. ‘It’s not the first time she’s eaten something she shouldn’t.’
‘At least she’s in good hands if anything does go wrong.’
Jimmy held the cake tin out to her again. Mandy, hungry from her exertions on the rope course, took a green one and bit into it. ‘Have you been busy with visitors yet?’ Mandy asked. She had been so busy herself that she hadn’t had much time to wonder how Jimmy’s new venture was going.
‘Not bad at all. Especially considering it’s November,’ Jimmy said. Mandy lifte
d her mug from the scratched coffee table and took a mouthful of tea. Although the cakes were charming, they were sweet. ‘I’ve a big group coming in next week from Leeds,’ Jimmy said. ‘How about you?’ he went on. ‘I guess you’re rushed off your feet trying to run Hope Meadows as well as working as a vet.’
‘You could say that,’ Mandy agreed. ‘Mum and Dad have mentioned the idea of getting a new vet in. They haven’t made up their minds yet. I guess they’ll see how busy it is in spring with the three of us and then decide.’
‘Is your work very seasonal?’ Jimmy asked.
‘Well, there’s more farm work in the autumn and winter, then even more in spring,’ Mandy said. She felt very much at home, talking to him about Animal Ark. ‘Summer is the easiest time, which was helpful for setting up Hope Meadows.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘I’m afraid I’m going to have to get back,’ she said with a sigh. ‘It’s been lovely, though.’ It was absolutely true, she thought, in spite of the moment of awkwardness earlier. Jimmy was so kind and funny, and she had enjoyed a few hours away from the pressures of the surgery and her rescue animals.
Mandy finished off the last of her tea and shifted to the edge of the sofa. He had been so understanding earlier when she had asked if they could take things slowly. She should probably suggest something suitable, but her mind was blank.
‘Will you have dinner with me on Friday?’ To her relief, Jimmy spoke first. ‘Not here,’ he added. ‘How about the Fox and Goose?’
Mandy smiled at him. The Fox and Goose was familiar and comfortable. It was hard to imagine anywhere she would feel more at home. ‘That would be perfect,’ she said. Together they walked out to the hall and Jimmy held out her jacket. Rather awkwardly, she slipped her arms into the sleeves. ‘Thanks for the tea,’ she said. ‘And the lovely afternoon.’
As she turned back towards him, Jimmy reached out and with only a moment’s hesitation, she slid into his arms. There was none of the intensity there had been earlier, but Mandy still felt as if she was floating by the time he released her. His green eyes searched her face as he released her and he seemed satisfied as he smiled his friendly grin.
‘Okay?’ he asked.
‘Very okay,’ she replied. Calling to Sky, she made her way to the gate and turned back for one last glance. Jimmy was standing in the open doorway. Giving him a wave, Mandy tugged the gate closed behind her.
Sky looked up at her expectantly. ‘Come on, girl!’ said Mandy. ‘Time to go home.’
Chapter Seven
Mandy took a deep breath and bent down to unclip the lead from Flame’s collar. Even though the height of the gate had been raised, she still felt anxious every time she let Flame run loose. Mandy swallowed the urge to call to the golden lurcher as she zoomed around the paddock. It was important for all the rescue dogs to be able to run off lead; human legs couldn’t give them enough exercise on their own. Mandy dug her hands in her pockets and watched Flame pick up a scent. With her nose fixed to the ground, the long-legged animal made a dash towards the hedge that separated the paddock from the road.
Mandy’s breath caught. Where there had been solid bushes before, now there seemed to be a flat patch of shadow a third of the way up the hedge. Could it be a gap? She sprinted over just as Flame launched herself at the hole, her furry body wriggling with excitement. Mandy lunged forwards as if she was tackling a rugby player and felt her fingers close around Flame’s collar. Her knees thudded to the ground and she stayed there for a moment, panting. When she had caught her breath, she began to disentangle Flame from the branches. The lurcher backed out, snuffling and shaking scraps of leaf from her ears. She was still straining to follow the scent so Mandy kept a firm grip on the collar as she clipped the lead back on. She peered at the gap in the hedge. She was sure it hadn’t been there yesterday. Once Flame was indoors, she would have to come back and look properly.
Flame looked crestfallen when Mandy shut her back into her kennel. The lurcher circled on her bed a couple of times and then flopped down with a sigh, as if she felt life was very unfair. ‘Better to be shut in here than roaming the streets of Welford,’ Mandy told her, slipping a treat through the bars. She headed outside, crossed the paddock, and crouched down to investigate the hole. It was hardly bigger than a flowerpot, but Mandy could see straight through to the lane on the other side. In a way, it was lucky it had been Flame trying to escape. One of the smaller dogs would have been through and away.
Mandy frowned. The gap was very strange. If it had been made by an animal trying to burrow through the hedge, she would have expected a hole at ground level and the earth at the base to be scraped. This was higher up, above the level that a rabbit or even a badger would reach. Some of the branches seemed to have been bent back deliberately, threaded in among the other twigs to leave a clear break. Had someone actually tried to make a hole in Mandy’s hedge?
She gave herself a mental shake. Was she just being paranoid after her conversation with PC Armstrong? Even if some of her neighbours didn’t like the noise of barking, was that enough to make them want to help the dogs escape? The thought that someone would be willing to risk the life of any of her animals made Mandy feel sick. Working with her fingers, she bent the wood back into place and did her best to cover the hole. Until the branches grew back, she would need to cover the gap. For the moment, she pulled a pallet into place. Later she would find something more permanent. As she shoved the pallet into position, the phone in her pocket began to ring.
‘Hi, Mandy. Seb Conway here.’
‘Seb!’ Despite the distractions of the morning, it was always good to hear Seb’s voice. ‘What can I do for you?’
She could hear a smile in the animal welfare officer’s voice as he replied. ‘Can you meet me in Walton? I’ve got a bit of a challenge for you …’
Half an hour later, Mandy drove into one of the older roads on the far side of Walton. In spite of her worry about the hole in her hedge, she was interested to see what Seb had in store for her. He had received a report about two donkeys being kept in a back garden, and Mandy couldn’t help hoping that the information was wrong. The houses here were detached and the gardens were large, but donkeys needed at least half an acre of land each to provide sufficient grazing. The area seemed so pristine that she couldn’t imagine anything so homely as a donkey fitting in. Had Seb’s witness been mistaken?
She was almost at the address Seb had given her. Turning the final corner, she spotted Seb’s blue and white council van standing outside a sizeable house with a tidy garden. A small tree stood in the centre of a clipped front lawn. As she pulled up, the door of Seb’s van opened and the welfare officer, looking smart in his black waterproof jacket, climbed out and locked the door behind him.
‘Morning!’ he called as Mandy opened her car door and hopped out.
‘Hi, Seb.’ Although she had done a good number of welfare visits before, Mandy still felt a surge of adrenaline. Most owners resented or feared the appearance of the welfare officer, and situations could quickly become tense, aside from any problems with the animal. Side by side, Mandy and Seb walked up the driveway to knock on the glossy white door.
The bell chimed inside and there were sounds of frenetic claws and agitated barking. A woman in a red sweater and fitted black trousers opened the door. As well as the toddler on her hip, there were two slightly older children dancing about behind her. The barking came from a brindle Staffie, half-hiding behind the woman’s legs.
‘Can I help you?’ she asked. Mandy felt a burst of sympathy for the woman. She looked tired out and now, seeing Seb in his black jacket, there was alarm on her face too. ‘Is something wrong?’
Seb smiled. ‘Good morning. Mrs Powell? My name is Sebastian Conway, and I’m from the local council. We’ve had a report that there are two donkeys being kept in your back garden,’ he said. ‘Is it possible for us to have a look, please?’
The woman frowned as she opened the door wide. ‘You’re welcome to look at them,’ she said. From
her expression, Mandy couldn’t help wondering whether the woman had enough to do without two donkeys added into the mix. As they walked through the house, Mandy glanced around. There were toys on the floor, but the carpet looked new and well maintained. A real Christmas tree stood in one corner of the living room, surrounded by boxes of ornaments and tinsel. The Staffie bounced beside Mrs Powell, barking, but it looked fit and in good condition.
To Mandy’s surprise, one of the children rushed up and took her hand. She had a large green bow in her hair and a sweet face. ‘Are you here to see Robin and Holly?’
Mandy looked down, feeling like a giant. ‘Are they your donkeys?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ the child replied. ‘I’m Mia.’
‘Well then, yes, Mia,’ Mandy said. ‘We’ve come to check how they are.’
Mia’s older brother reached up for Mandy’s other hand. He had dark hair and dark eyes with a slightly wary expression. ‘What’s your name?’ Mandy asked, half delighted, half taken aback by the friendly children.
‘I’m Stephen.’ He stared up at her. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘We’ll show you.’ One on either side, they tugged Mandy towards the back door. Glancing over her shoulder, she could see Seb following behind. He looked as if he was trying not to laugh.
Mrs Powell looked even more strained once the back door was open. No wonder, Mandy thought as she looked around. Where there should have been neat flowerbeds, there were millions of tiny hoof-prints. The lawn had been churned up, sticky November mud showing through the shorn grass. Worse, there was a privet hedge along the back fence. Although there was no sign that it had been eaten, it was completely unsuitable to enclose animals. Fortunately the berries were past, but the plant itself was poisonous to donkeys. The heather plants in the rockery hadn’t been so lucky. There was no sign of living creatures, but Mandy noticed a small garden shed in one corner. Were the donkeys in there, she wondered?
Mrs Powell noticed the direction of Mandy’s gaze. ‘The kids love them,’ she said, her voice hollow with resignation, ‘but I had no idea how much trouble they’d cause.’
