Deception in the Cotswolds by Rebecca Tope Page B

its survival instincts. Which meant that any human coming across a struggling mother dog carried a responsibility to help. It was a debt due from one species to another, and it almost made Thea tearful to contemplate this stark truth. The burden was a heavy one, which a great many people dropped without proper thought. It was also not the first time Thea had been called upon to face it. Dogs, somehow, seemed to be her nemesis. Like it or not, she repeatedly found herself caring for them, one way or another.
    There was still just enough light to enable her to return to the burrow when she got back to Cranham. Thoughts of the hungry and thirsty mother decided her to do it, so she shut Hepzie in the house and set out with the bulging carrier bag. She had planned to cook the meat before presenting it, but on consideration, she concluded that the dog would not be fussy.
    She had made a careful note of the way, marking one or two distinctive trees as she had returned from her earlier walk. Even so, it was difficult in the twilight to recognise any landmarks.
    She carried a supermarket bag containing a pound of raw mince and a litre-bottle of milk, with a plastic bowl to pour it into – which she’d have to take back with her, for fear of leaving telltale evidence. There was no sign of human life, but birds were singing overhead, acknowledging the end of the day. There would surely be badgers and foxes emerging from their lairs any time now. It was quite a different world from the one most people knew, not so much hidden as completely ignored. She had heard mocking remarks about the way Australians clustered around the very edges of their terrifying country, facing steadfastly out to sea, their backs to the incomprehensible desert. But Europeans were not so different. They were uneasy with their wild places too.
    Sliding down the steep bumpy slope, she finally located a tree she recognised, and turned right into undergrowth which seemed to have become taller andthicker than a few hours earlier. There were no sounds of cheeping pups or rustling night creatures until she had walked into an even darker patch of woodland, when she saw the fallen tree and heard a muffled whine.
    The dog could smell the meat, she assumed. Quickly, she approached the burrow and took the food from the bag. The dog’s sharp nose sniffed eagerly from a safe distance, and then darted forward and gobbled Thea’s offering almost in one gulp. Belatedly, Thea remembered that farm dogs were almost invariably fed with dry complete food in convenient small shapes, raw meat a rare delicacy. Would it upset this poor animal’s digestion, she wondered. Too late to worry about it now.
    The milk also disappeared in seconds, the urgent lapping somewhat inefficiently scattering drops on all sides. When it was finished, she gave Thea a grateful smile and retreated into her hole, where the puppies were making their odd undoglike sounds.
    ‘Bye, then,’ said Thea, beginning to worry about getting lost in the deep dark woods, and glad she had left her own dog behind. Far from leading her home, Hepzie would be quite liable to get lost in the shadows and delay things further.
    Her own clumsy footsteps sounded loud in her ears as she stumbled back to the main track. Dry sticks cracked beneath her feet, and young holly trees swished as she passed. Last year’s dead leaves still lay thicklyon the woodland floor, crunching when trodden on. She sounded like a small elephant blundering around. It should hardly have been a surprise when she met a person on the track, head pushed forward, listening to Thea’s approach.
    It gave her a nasty turn, all the same. The features were indistinct in the dying light, but they did not look very friendly.
    ‘What in the world are you doing?’ came a cut-glass voice.
    ‘Oh! I got a bit lost, that’s all. Sorry if I startled you.’
    ‘Lost? Startled?’ The voice rang out on a high indignant note. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
    Something