Read Online Down Daisy Street by Katie Flynn - Free Book Online Page A

time back, when prices had begun to drop, that their best course was to grow crops which could, if necessary, be sold locally. Barley and wheat might not sell on the general market, but they could feed his stock as well as contributing to the Hewitts’ own food requirements, and so far he had been proved right. It was a long way to travel to Norwich market but prices in the city were a little higher than those in Stalham or Great Yarmouth, so Mr Hewitt thought the journey worth making.
    Inside his jacket, the puppy whined, sounding more like a cat than a dog. It was almost certainly freezing cold and hungry, though the warmth from Alec’s body would dry it out, probably by the time he reached the farmhouse. Alec glanced automatically up at the sky to check on the time since he and his father liked to get their cows milked before dusk began to fall. The sky, however, grey and lowering, gave him no indication of the time of day, so he continued on his way, putting on a slight spurt as the farmhouse, in its bower of leafless trees, came into view.
    As Alec swung open the mossy gate which led into the yard he could smell cooking and he headed for the kitchen, pushing the back door open with a suddenly impatient hand, eager to be out of the cold. His mother was baking. A rabbit, already skinned and jointed and surrounded by onions and potatoes, was arranged in the big black roasting tin and Mrs Hewitt was rolling out pastry. She looked up as her son came in. ‘I’ll lay you’re soaked to the skin, Alec; best get out of that jacket and hang it over the clothes horse,’ she said, and then, as her son obeyed, added sharply: ‘What have you got there then?’
    Since Cherry, the Labrador, had waddled across the kitchen as soon as Alec entered and was now on his hind legs, energetically snuffling at the front of Alec’s pullover, this was an obvious question and Alec answered it readily. That’s a red setter pup, Ma. I found it in a ditch, drowned I reckon, but that were alive so I’ve brung it back, hopin’ as you’d let me keep it. I reckon that’s one of old Drayton’s. His bitch had a litter a couple of months back, but he’d found out she was gun shy so he can’t sell her pups as gun dogs.’
    His mother laid down her rolling pin and came across to peer at the puppy. She was a tall, sparely made woman, with the dark red hair Alec had inherited, and pale skin which freckled and burned under the rays of the summer sun. She had large hazel eyes fringed with reddish-brown lashes and the only lines on her face were those made by laughter, for she was as merry as her husband was serious. Alec adored her and thought her beautiful, and now he was waiting for her verdict upon the fate of the puppy without, it must be confessed, worrying unduly. He had never known his ma to turn away from an animal in distress and could not imagine her doing so today.
    ‘Let’s have a look at you, little feller,’ Mrs Hewitt murmured, taking the animal. It reached up and licked her chin with a long, pink tongue. ‘I’m in the middle of baking, Alec, and if your dad’s goin’ to get his tea on time I’d best get on wi’ it, but you can sit down by the fire and feed this scrap some warm bread and milk. Thass a bitch, by the way. What do you want to call her?’
    ‘Oh, a bitch, is it? No wonder Cherry and Patch seemed so interested,’ Alec said, chuckling.
    Alec stood up and transferred the pup to the back of the shabby old chair in which he had been sitting. Then he turned to the two dogs standing watchfully by and said: ‘Thass just a baby, you two, so you int to go worritin’ it; understand? Leave, Cherry! Leave, Patch!’ Alec knew that now they would respect the pup and would not steal its food when it was older and able to take care of itself. ‘I want you to name her, Ma,’ he said.
    Betty Hewitt’s hands stopped fashioning the pastry around the rabbit pie dish and she stared thoughtfully at the gamely legged pup with its