Page 164 of The Cottage at Brambleton Hall

Another paw came free – more mud. Then another. Each movement seemed to free him but drag her deeper into the mud.

By the time footsteps crashed through the undergrowth behind her, she was up to her knees in mud and shaking with effort.

‘Sammy!’

Nate.

He slid down the bank and waded into the mud beside her.

Moments later Magnus appeared above them. ‘Good heavens how did he get himself down there?’

‘Don’t just stand there,’ Sammy puffed at Nate. ‘Help.’

Nate managed to loop a lead around Stop It’s neck.

‘Ready?’

‘Yes.’ Together they pulled. The dog came free all at once. Nate staggered backwards.

Sammy landed on her backside. Stop It immediately shook himself, showering mud over his two rescuers. She sat laughing, arms wrapped around the dog, while he licked mud off her chin. ‘You absolute menace.’

Magnus descended the last few feet of the bank and knelt beside the dog. He ran a hand over Stop It’s muddy ears. ‘Give that rascal here.’

Reluctantly, Sammy surrendered the lead. ‘Miss Jenkins,’ Magnus said quietly, his eyes roving over her mud-streaked face and clothes. ‘You should not have had to do this.’

Sammy shrugged. ‘Someone had to. He was stuck.’ She wiped a hand clean on her blouse and collected her phone from the bank. ‘Anyway, must get back, Jean’s cooking dinner.’

Magnus stared at her then he glanced away. ‘Thank you.’

‘Give him a biscuit from me,’ she said, giving the dog one last pat.

And before either man could say anything else, she strode off towards her cottage.

On Monday morning Magnus was reviewing wine invoices when the back doorbell rang.

Not the front entrance. The service door. He put down the pen. Unexpected callers at the back of the house generally meant problems. By the time he reached the corridor, Valerie had already opened the door.

Outside stood a woman in a dark waterproof coat, sensible shoes damp from the lane. Mid-sixties perhaps. Neatly dressed. Not flustered. Not intimidated either. Under her arm, a biscuit tin.

Valerie was speaking in her smoothest voice. ‘As I explained, Miss Jenkins is not working today.’

‘Yes. I gathered that.’ The woman said. Her gaze slid past Valerie and settled on him. ‘Mr Magnus, I presume.’

Magnus raised an eyebrow. ‘Yes.’

‘Jean Williams.’ She extended her right hand. ‘Sammy’s foster mother. You called me, suggested I came.’

Valerie folded her arms.

Magnus shook Jean’s hand, recalling the voice. ‘Perhaps you should come through to my office.’

‘Thank you.’

They moved down the corridor, Valerie following.

Jean glanced briefly around the passageway as they walked. ‘Remarkable place,’ she said. ‘Sammy speaks very highly of the standards kept here.’

Valerie’s expression softened fractionally. ‘We do our best.’