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Authors: Christie Barlow
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enthused.
âLook how much youâve cost us to buy our own chickens back.â
âI couldnât let them eat our birds, Tom. I know technically youâre the boss and Iâm sorry Iâve cost us money, but this livestock deserves a happy ending. Agreed?â
âAgreed,â Tom declared with amusement written all over his face.
âLetâs load those crates back the van and get the hell out of here.â
Tom saluted in my direction.
Chapter Ten
A rriving home that evening after weâd settled the rescued chickens back at Bluebell Lodge, the buoyant mood of the day called for only one thing â a large cool, crisp glass of wine. Glad to be back after such an early start, I felt a sense of achievement and pride. Beginning to daydream, I had a thought: Kitty Lewis, the saver of chickens. I could prance around wearing a pair of red wellies with a matching red cape sporting the capital letters S and C â yes, Super Chick.
What a day.
Balancing on one leg, trying to remove my wellington boots, which appeared to be cemented to my feet, I toppled backwards and landed on my backside. Pulling off the boot after it finally became unstuck, mud flew from the sole and splattered up the wall in the hallway.
âDamn.â
Now feeling too tired, I couldnât be bothered to clean it up. Heading straight towards the fridge, I made a mental note to purchase one of those bootjack thingymebobs and leave it by the front door, especially now this welly malarkey was going to be regular attire.
I heard Alfie in the bedroom, and he soon appeared alongside me, purring gladly.
After a quick bonding session with the cat, I poured a glass of wine and took a well-deserved sip. No sooner had I propped my feet up on the settee and opened my book, than the doorbell rang.
Bugger â who the heck would be ringing the bell at this time of night?
It rang again.
I sat quietly, willing them to go away whilst shushing at Alfie, though he wasnât making a sound.
He stared at me; his eyes widened and then he swiped at my finger, obviously thinking this was some sort of new game.
âOuch,â I mouthed at him, feeling a short, sharp pain followed by a little trickle of blood running down my finger. That would teach me to shush the cat.
Startled by the loud knock that followed, I tensed up. Surely they have the wrong blooming door and will hopefully go away any moment now, I thought.
Knock, knock, KNOCK.
If nothing else, they were persistent.
âFlipping heck, Alfie, all I wanted was a sit-down.â
He purred back at me like he understood my predicament whilst still watching my finger with a wicked glint in his eye.
I placed my book on the table and reluctantly forced my tired body up and out of the comfort of the settee.
Before I even had a chance to open the door, I heard a voice filter through.
âKitty, are you in there? Come on, open up, itâs only me.â
Recognising the cheerful tones of Jeannieâs voice, I flicked the latch and opened the door.
Holding up a thin white plastic carrier before my eyes on her arched finger, the smell of Chinese food wafted in my direction.
âTa-dah, thought you might be in need of a celebratory meal after todayâs little escapade. Iâve heard all about your bidding war.â She smiled, nudging me playfully.
Alfie appeared in the hallway and began to continually wind his way around my legs. I picked him up and held him close; he stretched his nose towards the white carrier bag and purred.
Giving me a quick hug, Jeannie tossed her hair over her shoulder and bounced straight past me in the direction of the living room.
âWhere are the plates? Iâm famished. Iâve worked up a right appetite; been up to my eyes in it all day, mucking out.â
However shattered I was, it would seem my plans for an early night snuggled up in my PJs had been wiped out before my very eyes, but that Chinese did smell heavenly
âLook how much youâve cost us to buy our own chickens back.â
âI couldnât let them eat our birds, Tom. I know technically youâre the boss and Iâm sorry Iâve cost us money, but this livestock deserves a happy ending. Agreed?â
âAgreed,â Tom declared with amusement written all over his face.
âLetâs load those crates back the van and get the hell out of here.â
Tom saluted in my direction.
Chapter Ten
A rriving home that evening after weâd settled the rescued chickens back at Bluebell Lodge, the buoyant mood of the day called for only one thing â a large cool, crisp glass of wine. Glad to be back after such an early start, I felt a sense of achievement and pride. Beginning to daydream, I had a thought: Kitty Lewis, the saver of chickens. I could prance around wearing a pair of red wellies with a matching red cape sporting the capital letters S and C â yes, Super Chick.
What a day.
Balancing on one leg, trying to remove my wellington boots, which appeared to be cemented to my feet, I toppled backwards and landed on my backside. Pulling off the boot after it finally became unstuck, mud flew from the sole and splattered up the wall in the hallway.
âDamn.â
Now feeling too tired, I couldnât be bothered to clean it up. Heading straight towards the fridge, I made a mental note to purchase one of those bootjack thingymebobs and leave it by the front door, especially now this welly malarkey was going to be regular attire.
I heard Alfie in the bedroom, and he soon appeared alongside me, purring gladly.
After a quick bonding session with the cat, I poured a glass of wine and took a well-deserved sip. No sooner had I propped my feet up on the settee and opened my book, than the doorbell rang.
Bugger â who the heck would be ringing the bell at this time of night?
It rang again.
I sat quietly, willing them to go away whilst shushing at Alfie, though he wasnât making a sound.
He stared at me; his eyes widened and then he swiped at my finger, obviously thinking this was some sort of new game.
âOuch,â I mouthed at him, feeling a short, sharp pain followed by a little trickle of blood running down my finger. That would teach me to shush the cat.
Startled by the loud knock that followed, I tensed up. Surely they have the wrong blooming door and will hopefully go away any moment now, I thought.
Knock, knock, KNOCK.
If nothing else, they were persistent.
âFlipping heck, Alfie, all I wanted was a sit-down.â
He purred back at me like he understood my predicament whilst still watching my finger with a wicked glint in his eye.
I placed my book on the table and reluctantly forced my tired body up and out of the comfort of the settee.
Before I even had a chance to open the door, I heard a voice filter through.
âKitty, are you in there? Come on, open up, itâs only me.â
Recognising the cheerful tones of Jeannieâs voice, I flicked the latch and opened the door.
Holding up a thin white plastic carrier before my eyes on her arched finger, the smell of Chinese food wafted in my direction.
âTa-dah, thought you might be in need of a celebratory meal after todayâs little escapade. Iâve heard all about your bidding war.â She smiled, nudging me playfully.
Alfie appeared in the hallway and began to continually wind his way around my legs. I picked him up and held him close; he stretched his nose towards the white carrier bag and purred.
Giving me a quick hug, Jeannie tossed her hair over her shoulder and bounced straight past me in the direction of the living room.
âWhere are the plates? Iâm famished. Iâve worked up a right appetite; been up to my eyes in it all day, mucking out.â
However shattered I was, it would seem my plans for an early night snuggled up in my PJs had been wiped out before my very eyes, but that Chinese did smell heavenly
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