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colourful flowerbeds with disgust.
    â€œThat there garden were full of pigs, so it were. Ye should hath seen them, lady. They was myn pride and joy. Myn pride and joy, I telleth ye. Pearly and Pinikins, they was my prize pigs. I were the envy of the village, so I were.”
    So what could Petronella do? This man was no danger to anyone. She surely couldn’t make him go back to his burial place. He was much nicer than Mrs Bellamy. The madam would just have to put up with him. No, Mrs Bellamy was not going to be happy. But Petronella had decided. The Axeman was here to stay. In fact, Petronella had a wonderful idea. She held up The Metal Disc to The Axeman’s face.
    â€œI love pigs!” Petronella said with a smile.
    â€œYe doth? Ye telleth me no lie, lady?”
    â€œNo lie,” Petronella said. “I think you should start pig-breeding again. Plenty of space in that garden. There’s a farmer’s market on the outskirts of the village. Every Saturday morning from 9.00 to 11.00. You can get a pig family to start you off. A sow, a big male pig and a couple of piglets. That should be enough to begin with. I’ll give you some money to get you started. You can give me the money back when you have bred piglets and have started selling them off. Why don’t you get some chickens, too? Then I’ll buy fresh eggs from you. What do you think of that?”
    â€œWhat thinketh I? Me thinketh it be a most wonderful idea. Lady, I loveth ye. Ye be the best lady I ever meeteth. The best lady I ever hath knoweth. I shall starteth work today. I shall diggeth up that lawn and flowerbeds and buildeth some nice sties for myn new pigs.”
    The Axeman’s eyes rolled downwards.
    â€œWhat’s the matter? Petronella asked.
    â€œYe see, lady, when I sayeth that pigs be the best things ever and ye be the best lady in the world, I telleth a little porkie pie. There be someone who be better than all the pigs in the land. And, without offending thy good self, there be one lady most important to me. That be my wife, Gwendolen. She were good with pigs, she were. Though pigs looketh after themselves, mind. They be good like that. But my Gwendolen maketh the best pig’s swill for miles around. Being that it be the swill that maketh them fat and healthy. And she keepeth chickens as well. In the kitchen. Layeth their eggs in the corner cupboard, so they didst. Nice big ones. Brown and white.”
    Petronella liked the idea of chickens laying eggs in Mrs Bellamy’s kitchen cupboards. She was so sorry she did not have the power to wake Gwendolen up from the fields and make The Axeman happy. But Gwendolen could already be wandering around somewhere in the village looking for her home, for all she knew.
    â€œIf there’s anything I can do to help you, please let me know,” Petronella said.
    â€œOh, lady, I shall be the happiest man dead-alive if I hath my Gwendolen back.” He cried.
    â€œI promise I will help you all I can. But now I have to get back home.”
    Petronella got up to go. “I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Petronella. What’s your name?”
    â€œI be Alfie.”
    â€œWell, goodbye, Alfie. It’s been a pleasure talking to you.”
    Alfie saw Petronella off and kept waving his axe at her until she was out of sight. Then he closed the door and went to the garden to start work on building his pig sties.
    Petronella smiled to herself. What a good morning’s work this had been.
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Chapter 21
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    Percy was in the garden with Maalox when Petronella got back to her cottage. They were messing around with the snails in the bunker.
    â€œCome on,” she said to Percy, “you know we’ve got an appointment to meet the head teacher, Miss Norman, this afternoon. “Go and get yourself cleaned up, my boy.”
    Percy was dreading going to school. He thought he was rubbish at learning. Truth was that by always working with his hands, his