doubted.
She retraced her steps to the village, torn between excitement at the discovery and anticipated guilt if she was questioned about a missing collie. Had the owners not noticed that the bitch was in pup? Would they be searching far and wide, furious with the absconding animal? Or would they perhaps relent, in the face of her obvious need to keep her offspring, and at least spare one or two of them? Her vivid imaginationshowed her the struggling little dogs in the bucketful of icy water. In Duntisbourne Abbots something of the sort had taken place, and that quite recent memory made her shudder.
Whatever pangs her conscience might deal her, she had unswerving priorities. The lactating bitch would need fluids most of all. There were no visible watercourses in the woods, and the drizzle of the day before had been unlikely to create any useful puddles. She would also need meat. There was nothing suitable to hand in the Manor, despite the various packages stuffed haphazardly into the freezer. Besides, Harriet had seemed reluctant to give her free access to them. ‘You do generally cater for yourself, I assume?’ she had asked at their first encounter.
‘It varies,’ said Thea, frankly, thinking of some of the luxury foodstuffs she had been invited to consume at other house-sitting commissions.
It was half past seven. There had to be a supermarket still open somewhere, so she bundled the spaniel into the car, collected her handbag, and set out in search of provisions.
She had to go to Stroud to find what she wanted, throwing minced beef and pork belly into the trolley, along with a lot of milk and a large box of dog biscuits. Even as she did it, she had a sense that it was money wasted, that the desperate bitch would not accomplish her goal, long-term. There was too much against her,especially once Thea departed from Cranham – unless she could find a substitute dog-feeder, who would respect the secret and deal with the burden of a litter of homeless dogs at the end of it.
Back at Hollywell she phoned Drew. His wife answered, sounding tired and uninterested. ‘Is it about a funeral?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ said Thea, feeling vaguely uncomfortable. ‘At least—’
‘I’ll get him. Hang on a minute.’
It was almost a full minute before his voice came through. ‘Sorry – I was reading a story to the children,’ he said, before he knew who was calling. Thea was impressed that he would reveal such a personal side of his life to a probable stranger.
‘It’s me. Thea,’ she said. ‘Sorry to interrupt.’
‘No problem. We’d just about finished anyway.’
‘What was the story?’
‘ Charlotte’s Web for about the tenth time. I keep suggesting they’re too old for it now, but maybe they’re not.’
‘Have you seen the film?’
‘Once. It’s dreadful. Not a patch on the book.’
‘Oh – I quite liked it. Anyway,’ she gave herself a little shake, ‘I’ve arranged for you to meet Donny here tomorrow afternoon, if you can manage it.’
‘Right. What time exactly?’
‘Just after three would be good.’
‘Should be possible. Where are you?’
‘It’s a fair way from Broad Campden, I’m afraid.’ And she carefully explained how to find Cranham and the Manor.
‘Sounds very grand,’ he said.
‘Oh, it is. I’m sure you’re going to like it.’
‘And is everything nice and calm for a change?’
‘So far,’ she laughed, touching the wooden surface of the telephone shelf.
‘Good,’ he said; then, as if remembering something, he quickly curtailed the conversation with a brief, ‘See you tomorrow, then.’
The dog situation raised a host of imponderable questions about the relationship between mankind and other species. ‘Leaving it to nature’ had very little meaning when it came to creatures that had long ago learnt to depend entirely on human beings for their survival. A cat in the woods would raise her kittens with little trouble; a dog had lost almost all
She retraced her steps to the village, torn between excitement at the discovery and anticipated guilt if she was questioned about a missing collie. Had the owners not noticed that the bitch was in pup? Would they be searching far and wide, furious with the absconding animal? Or would they perhaps relent, in the face of her obvious need to keep her offspring, and at least spare one or two of them? Her vivid imaginationshowed her the struggling little dogs in the bucketful of icy water. In Duntisbourne Abbots something of the sort had taken place, and that quite recent memory made her shudder.
Whatever pangs her conscience might deal her, she had unswerving priorities. The lactating bitch would need fluids most of all. There were no visible watercourses in the woods, and the drizzle of the day before had been unlikely to create any useful puddles. She would also need meat. There was nothing suitable to hand in the Manor, despite the various packages stuffed haphazardly into the freezer. Besides, Harriet had seemed reluctant to give her free access to them. ‘You do generally cater for yourself, I assume?’ she had asked at their first encounter.
‘It varies,’ said Thea, frankly, thinking of some of the luxury foodstuffs she had been invited to consume at other house-sitting commissions.
It was half past seven. There had to be a supermarket still open somewhere, so she bundled the spaniel into the car, collected her handbag, and set out in search of provisions.
She had to go to Stroud to find what she wanted, throwing minced beef and pork belly into the trolley, along with a lot of milk and a large box of dog biscuits. Even as she did it, she had a sense that it was money wasted, that the desperate bitch would not accomplish her goal, long-term. There was too much against her,especially once Thea departed from Cranham – unless she could find a substitute dog-feeder, who would respect the secret and deal with the burden of a litter of homeless dogs at the end of it.
Back at Hollywell she phoned Drew. His wife answered, sounding tired and uninterested. ‘Is it about a funeral?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ said Thea, feeling vaguely uncomfortable. ‘At least—’
‘I’ll get him. Hang on a minute.’
It was almost a full minute before his voice came through. ‘Sorry – I was reading a story to the children,’ he said, before he knew who was calling. Thea was impressed that he would reveal such a personal side of his life to a probable stranger.
‘It’s me. Thea,’ she said. ‘Sorry to interrupt.’
‘No problem. We’d just about finished anyway.’
‘What was the story?’
‘ Charlotte’s Web for about the tenth time. I keep suggesting they’re too old for it now, but maybe they’re not.’
‘Have you seen the film?’
‘Once. It’s dreadful. Not a patch on the book.’
‘Oh – I quite liked it. Anyway,’ she gave herself a little shake, ‘I’ve arranged for you to meet Donny here tomorrow afternoon, if you can manage it.’
‘Right. What time exactly?’
‘Just after three would be good.’
‘Should be possible. Where are you?’
‘It’s a fair way from Broad Campden, I’m afraid.’ And she carefully explained how to find Cranham and the Manor.
‘Sounds very grand,’ he said.
‘Oh, it is. I’m sure you’re going to like it.’
‘And is everything nice and calm for a change?’
‘So far,’ she laughed, touching the wooden surface of the telephone shelf.
‘Good,’ he said; then, as if remembering something, he quickly curtailed the conversation with a brief, ‘See you tomorrow, then.’
The dog situation raised a host of imponderable questions about the relationship between mankind and other species. ‘Leaving it to nature’ had very little meaning when it came to creatures that had long ago learnt to depend entirely on human beings for their survival. A cat in the woods would raise her kittens with little trouble; a dog had lost almost all
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