Page 14 of Kingfisher Morning


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Edward kissed his wife and left. Ross sighed. 'I must go, too. I've some house calls.'

'You're eating lunch here,' Chloe informed him. 'It's all settled.'

'I see,' said Ross. 'The freemasonry of women again, eh? Thanks, Chloe. I'm grateful.' He smiled at her. 'Edward's given me the afternoon off. I've promised to take Emma to see Maiden Castle.'

'I'll keep the three kids here while you do,' Chloe promised. 'No need to rush back. Drive Emma around to get a good look at the countryside.' She smiled at Emma. 'We're very proud of our landscape, you know. Finest countryside in England.'

'Why not?' Ross shrugged. He left by the kitchen door, while Chloe and Emma went into the surgery to see the animals being kept in overnight. Some were asleep, awaiting surgery or recovering. Some were eager for attention, particularly a small black Labrador puppy, his paws imploringly raised at the cage door. Emma cooed over him, enchanted by his soft paws and sleek coat. 'I wonder what's wrong with him? He looks fine.'

A cat lay supine on an old cushion, breathing lightly. Chloe glanced at her. 'She's just had an operation—see the stitching. It's amazing how animals recover. Tomorrow she'll be moving about, a bit stiffly, but almost back to normal. Humans are far more hard to look after.'

'Yet animals make me feel so much more moved,' said Emma. 'They're so helpless, so bewildered. They just don't understand pain, or why it's happening to them—and you can't talk to them, reassure them, as you can with people. If only animals could talk!'

'You wouldn't say that if you'd ever had a parrot,' said Chloe grimly. She opened a door and at once a raucous voice assailed them. 'Hallo, sweetheart! Crack a nut, crack a nut…'

Emma giggled. A vivid scarlet, green and white parrot was scuffling up and down, head bent, round eyes slyly regarding them, from his perch in the corner of the room. 'Is he yours?' she asked.

'He belonged to my uncle,' Chloe said with a grimace. 'When Uncle Bill died he left Crackers to me in his will. I felt I had to take the old scoundrel, but he's a perfect nuisance! His language is appalling at times. Of course, the boys adore him. They would! And I'm always afraid they'll come out with similar expressions in front of clients and shock people for miles around!'

She offered the parrot a nut. He sidled up, snatched it with one claw and bent to inspect it, saying, 'Cor… lovely! Crack a nut, crack a nut…'

The children arrived in time to see him eat his nut, and crowded round him, admiring, enthusiastic, while Crackers went through some of his repertoire. Emma quite saw what Chloe meant. As the language became rather more colourful, she whisked the children away and gave them orders to play quietly in the yard with Tommy and Tod while she went shopping. Tracy at once begged to come, too.

'If you like,' Emma agreed. While Donna and Robin settled down to play hide and seek she set off around the little market town to seek various items. She found it fascinating to see how much of the old town was left. Anyone who had read Hardy's novels must recognise certain streets, buildings, names. With delight she walked up Corn Hill and stared at the bow windows of the Antelope, an old coaching inn which figured in several of the books under another name; then wandered up to St Peter's Church, another famous landmark in the town.

Tracy was far more interested in the shops. She had some money to spend, and it was burning a hole in her pocket.

'I think I'll buy a book,' she announced.

They went into a bookshop and Tracy carefully selected a volume of children's stories. Emma added a Beatrix Potter for Robin and a little picture book for Donna.

'Robin likes books about cars,' Tracy said scornfully.

'I expect he'll like the Tale of the Fierce Bad Rabbit,' Emma said quietly.

On their way back, they stopped to take a brief look inside the Museum, admiring the reproduction of Hardy's study, the various pieces of nineteenth-century furniture, the agricultural implements and the fine display of Roman remains which had all been dug up around the town. Tracy grew tired after ten minutes, fidgeting to and fro, her attention wandering. Emma smiled at her.

'Shall we go?'

Tracy eagerly agreed. They found that Ross and Edward Bennett had both returned from their visiting, and were awaiting lunch eagerly. The fragrant odour of the oxtail casserole wafted out to them. Chloe grinned. 'Wash your hands and I'll serve lunch! I think everyone's worked up an appetite.'

The meat was tender, falling off the bone in velvety flakes, and the rich gravy had a delicious flavour. Chloe's dumplings were so light that Emma wondered what she had used to make them…they melted in the mouth, and were rapidly polished off by the hungry horde around the table. Despite mounds of mashed potato creamed with butter, new carrots caramelised and decorated with parsley, and nutty brussels sprouts, the meal only just managed to stretch adequately. Everyone was ready for the apple pasties. They were made with flaky pastry, the apples golden with brown sugar and dotted with currants.

'Mm…' said Robin ecstatically. 'I do like you, Auntie Chloe.' His reverent tone made everyone laugh. Chloe grinned at him.

'Thank you, Robin,' she said, in a man-to-man tone. 'I like you, too. I like boys who eat heartily.'

'Does that include me?' asked Ross, tongue in cheek.

Chloe gave him a stern glance. 'Oh, you're a pig,' she told him, watching as he scraped his plate clean. 'And you can make the coffee, which will teach you not to make such a pig of yourself!'

'I shan't want to move after that meal,' he moaned. 'I don't know how I'm to summon the energy to climb up Maiden Castle this afternoon.'

'Maiden Castle?' Edward looked up from his silent contemplation of his empty plate. 'Are you going that way? Could you just drop in at Hook End Farm and see Joe Wing's horse? It's gone lame again.'

Ross groaned. 'I thought it was too good to be true. OK.'

They had coffee, at leisure, while the children vanished again and then Ross drove Emma out along the Weymouth Road, past the dark and gloomy shape of Maumbury Ring.

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