snowflakes.
“Hello, is anyone here?” Chase felt suddenly anxious.
Movement on one of the tables caught her eye and she turned just as a paper doily drifted down from the table to join the others on the floor.
Something moved on the tabletop. Chase froze, narrowing her eyes before she squealed.
“What is it? What’s the matter?” Jane demanded.
“On the table. It’s a rat,” Chase said, backing away.
Jane cautiously walked toward the table. “Rat my ass. It’s a squirrel.”
Chase stopped backing away and laughed with relief as she saw the bushy tail of a grey squirrel scampering across the table. It stopped, eyeing Chase for a moment before it took up a remnant of the buffet food in its tiny paws and sat back on its haunches, watching the two of them as it ate.
“You’ll never get very far in the country if you can’t tell the difference between a rat and a squirrel.”
As though in agreement, the squirrel chattered and then scampered out of the door.
“You’ve upset the locals now.” Jane laughed.
“Well, it did look like a rat if you only caught a glimpse of it.”
“A good job it wasn’t a cat because I’d hate to see what you’d make of that.”
“Screw you.”
“I wish.”
At that moment someone coughed and both girls jumped.
“Vicar.” Chase blushed as she noticed the man stood at the door, instantly recognisable as the local clergyman by the dog collar constricting his neck below his double chin. The balding man smiled, what hair he did have slicked back across his crown. His cheeks appeared ruddy, as though through exertion or alcohol.
“Sorry to startle you like that. It’s just I thought I heard voices.”
“Yes, we were just looking for a Mr Moon or Drake,” Chase said.
“Ah, yes. I remember seeing you last night. You’ve moved into High Top Cottage, I believe.”
“Yes, I have.”
“Well, I hope you know what you’ve done.” He shook his head, as though lamenting.
“Pardon?” Chase said, unsure she heard right.
“Yes, the congregation has been dwindling lately. I think the fog has made them lose faith. But now, perhaps I can encourage you to join my flock.”
“Fat chance,” Jane mumbled.
The vicar cocked his ear toward Jane. “You’ll have to speak up a bit.”
“I said, good chance. She’s an old Sunday school girl, aren’t you Chase.”
“Ah good, that’s what I like to hear.” The vicar smiled and nodded graciously.
Chase pulled a face at Jane that the vicar couldn’t see. “So do you know where we can find Mr Moon or Drake?” she asked, turning back to face the vicar.
“Haven’t got a clue, my dear. They appear now and again. I’m sure they’ll turn up. Now, where were we, ah yes, the congregation.”
Chase sighed and Jane sniggered as they listened to the vicar sermonising on the state of the church, the state of the parishioners and the state of the hall. It was fifteen minutes later before Chase managed to make their excuses and leave – and she still didn’t know how to find Moon or Drake.
They spent the rest of the morning exploring. Chase couldn’t get over how quaint the cottages looked. It was as though they were part of a bygone age, and she still couldn’t believe she had won one of them. It was a dream come true.
After they had explored the village, they ventured around the rear of the hill, following a leaf shaded lane through a copse of trees until they came to a dilapidated farmhouse. The outbuildings had been left to rot, the frame of the large barn a series of decaying beams like rotten teeth; rusty metal panels creaked and groaned in the wind. The farmhouse windows had been smashed, the roof had caved in and the front door swung on its hinges, beckoning.
“What a waste,” Chase said, admiring the building.
Jane frowned.
“I bet it was beautiful before being abandoned. Come on, let’s have a look inside.”
Jane pulled a face. “What for?”
“Why not?”
“Do you really need to ask? It’s
“Hello, is anyone here?” Chase felt suddenly anxious.
Movement on one of the tables caught her eye and she turned just as a paper doily drifted down from the table to join the others on the floor.
Something moved on the tabletop. Chase froze, narrowing her eyes before she squealed.
“What is it? What’s the matter?” Jane demanded.
“On the table. It’s a rat,” Chase said, backing away.
Jane cautiously walked toward the table. “Rat my ass. It’s a squirrel.”
Chase stopped backing away and laughed with relief as she saw the bushy tail of a grey squirrel scampering across the table. It stopped, eyeing Chase for a moment before it took up a remnant of the buffet food in its tiny paws and sat back on its haunches, watching the two of them as it ate.
“You’ll never get very far in the country if you can’t tell the difference between a rat and a squirrel.”
As though in agreement, the squirrel chattered and then scampered out of the door.
“You’ve upset the locals now.” Jane laughed.
“Well, it did look like a rat if you only caught a glimpse of it.”
“A good job it wasn’t a cat because I’d hate to see what you’d make of that.”
“Screw you.”
“I wish.”
At that moment someone coughed and both girls jumped.
“Vicar.” Chase blushed as she noticed the man stood at the door, instantly recognisable as the local clergyman by the dog collar constricting his neck below his double chin. The balding man smiled, what hair he did have slicked back across his crown. His cheeks appeared ruddy, as though through exertion or alcohol.
“Sorry to startle you like that. It’s just I thought I heard voices.”
“Yes, we were just looking for a Mr Moon or Drake,” Chase said.
“Ah, yes. I remember seeing you last night. You’ve moved into High Top Cottage, I believe.”
“Yes, I have.”
“Well, I hope you know what you’ve done.” He shook his head, as though lamenting.
“Pardon?” Chase said, unsure she heard right.
“Yes, the congregation has been dwindling lately. I think the fog has made them lose faith. But now, perhaps I can encourage you to join my flock.”
“Fat chance,” Jane mumbled.
The vicar cocked his ear toward Jane. “You’ll have to speak up a bit.”
“I said, good chance. She’s an old Sunday school girl, aren’t you Chase.”
“Ah good, that’s what I like to hear.” The vicar smiled and nodded graciously.
Chase pulled a face at Jane that the vicar couldn’t see. “So do you know where we can find Mr Moon or Drake?” she asked, turning back to face the vicar.
“Haven’t got a clue, my dear. They appear now and again. I’m sure they’ll turn up. Now, where were we, ah yes, the congregation.”
Chase sighed and Jane sniggered as they listened to the vicar sermonising on the state of the church, the state of the parishioners and the state of the hall. It was fifteen minutes later before Chase managed to make their excuses and leave – and she still didn’t know how to find Moon or Drake.
They spent the rest of the morning exploring. Chase couldn’t get over how quaint the cottages looked. It was as though they were part of a bygone age, and she still couldn’t believe she had won one of them. It was a dream come true.
After they had explored the village, they ventured around the rear of the hill, following a leaf shaded lane through a copse of trees until they came to a dilapidated farmhouse. The outbuildings had been left to rot, the frame of the large barn a series of decaying beams like rotten teeth; rusty metal panels creaked and groaned in the wind. The farmhouse windows had been smashed, the roof had caved in and the front door swung on its hinges, beckoning.
“What a waste,” Chase said, admiring the building.
Jane frowned.
“I bet it was beautiful before being abandoned. Come on, let’s have a look inside.”
Jane pulled a face. “What for?”
“Why not?”
“Do you really need to ask? It’s
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