Desperate Measures by Laura Summers Page A

was tired and my mind was playing tricks on me. I really didn’t need to spook myself like this, I thought crossly. I already had plenty to worry about.
    I felt better when we came out of the dense undergrowth into a large area of long knee-length grass. I guessed it must have once been a beautifully manicured lawn. In the centre was a large, rectangular, ornamental pond choked with water lilies and weeds.
    Tramping down a path through the long grass like explorers, we made our way over to it and peered in.
    ‘Wow!’ Jamie shouted excitedly, leaning so far forward he looked as if he might fall headfirst into the pond any second.
    Swimming under the canopy of water lily leaves were several ginormous fish. Each was at least a foot long, if not more. We sat down on the edge of the pond and watched them.
    Jamie reached out his arm and trailed his hand in the water hoping the fish would come over to him.
    ‘Watch they don’t nibble your fingers off,’ I joked.
    It was Rhianna who heard them first. ‘What’s that?’ she asked.
    Jamie and I strained to listen. Then I heard it too. It was the sound of dogs, barking excitedly. It quickly became louder. A lot louder. They were coming in our direction.We barely had time to scramble to our feet before they emerged from the bushes on the other side of the long grass: two huge and powerful alsatians bounding towards us. Re screamed.
    ‘It’s the lions!’
    They stopped a few metres from us, staring threateningly with their ears pinned back, their teeth bared and their tails stretched out but not wagging.
    ‘Go away!’ shouted Jamie, waving his arms at them. ‘Get lost!’
    One of them started to growl, low and menacingly. I wasn’t sure what to do but I knew we were in deep trouble. Dogs like these could be vicious. I’d read stories in the papers. They could injure. They could even kill.
    ‘I don’t like them!’ Re wailed. ‘I don’t like them!’
    Before I could stop her she’d turned to run.
    ‘Stay where you are!’ an authoritative voice called. A white-haired woman dressed in a light-blue raincoat tied at the waist with a piece of string emerged from behind one of the bushes. She was carrying a thin white stick.
    ‘It’s all right, Re. Do as she says. Stand still.’
    Re looked at me, terrified, but did as she was told.
    Then something odd happened. I’m not sure what the woman did – I didn’t actually see her do anything, or say anything but the dogs suddenly stopped growling. One even started to wag its tail – not a friendly ‘I’m pleased to see you’ wag but a slow, suspicious, ‘So who are you lot then?’ wag.
    ‘Now, very slowly walk over to me.’
    We did as she said. The dogs made no attempt to follow us and once we were behind the woman it seemed as if they had lost interest in us. They bounded off, disappearing back in the bushes.
    ‘Are you all right?’ she asked.
    Jamie and Re nodded but then, unable to stop myself, I burst into tears.
    ‘You’d better come inside. I’ll make some tea. Best thing for nasty shocks.’ She took one of my nettle-stung hands in her own knobbly arthritic one and felt it with the other. ‘And I suppose we’d better find something for those stings.’
    Without another word, she turned and started walking back towards the house, stopping by a large clump of nettles.
    ‘There’s probably some dock leaves growing nearby,’ she told us. ‘If you pick them and rub them on your skin where you’ve been stung it’ll help.’
    I looked down and saw a clump of large green leaves. I picked a couple and handed them to her. ‘Are these the ones?’ I asked. She held them close to her face. ‘That’s them,’ she said. We rubbed the leaves over our stings and it was lovely to get some relief from those painful white bumps.
    ‘Those mutts don’t belong to me, more’s the pity. Be far better trained if they did. The people down in the lodge own them.’ She waved her stick to indicate their direction.