The Mysteries of Brambly Hollow

to retrieve packets of crisps and bottles of coke and sandwiches, which were trying to escape from the clingfilm, so she could shove them back into the boxes.
    She stalled, her ears pricking when the caller replied. “It’s Mr. Swindon, the plumber. Have I caught you at a bad time?”
    Meli withheld a scream of protest as a flash of black fur sped past and with teeth as white as lightening, and just as fast, they grabbed a sandwich from her fingers. Standing upright she gave up any hope of multitasking. “No, not at all,” she lied through gritted teeth. Her eyes glared at the sight of the sandwich vanishing down Quassi’s throat with the efficiency of a waste disposal unit. Her fingers tightened involuntarily.
    “I’ve got some good news for you.”
    Meli certainly hoped for his sake that it was. She could feel Cassie’s eyes burning the back of her neck. Spinning round she waved frantically at the lunches sprawled across the floor. When Cass only shook her head furiously before marching out the front door, Meli turned her attention to David. ‘Pick this lot up,’ she mouthed at him.
    “Is that okay?”
    She suddenly realised that she had not been listening to a word Mr. Swindon said. “I’m so sorry,” she was forced to say. “I was temporarily distracted.”
    “Oh, I see.” There was a meaningful pause, indicating that he didn’t see at all. “I said that the part has arrived and I have some spare time now, if it would be convenient. If it’s not, I won’t be free again until a week Monday.” There was a clear undertone to his voice that said: do you want the blasted heating sorted, or not? Because you are such a nutcase that I could do myself a huge favour, and happily cut my losses on this one.
    Meli clung to the phone while her thoughts did a highland fling in her head. She was so desperate to get the work completed, but she had to go out now, and then she had to go into Exmouth. There was nothing else for it. Overcoming the protestations of her thick and unwieldy tongue, she managed to force herself to say. “No, that’s absolutely fine to come now. But I’m just going out. I’ll have to leave the door on the latch for you.” She caught the sound of something that sounded remarkably like a choked snort of laughter, or the squeal of bagpipes, and he didn’t strike her as the sort of person who played bagpipes in his spare time. But after all the fuss she had made at his last visit, what else did she expect?
    “You need to know that we’ve got a dog now,” she warned him while attempting to fight Quassi away with her spare hand, trying to protect the last sandwich from his drooling jaws. Where could she leave him? It couldn’t be in the bathroom again, as the plumber would need access to that. There was nothing else for it; she would have to leave him in the boys’ room. “I’ll leave him locked in one of the bedrooms,” she told Mr. Swindon.
    Slamming down the phone she eyed the scattered morsels, anger welling within her that the kids had all disappeared and left her to it. She saw the time. “Oh blast,” she cursed. They were going to be late again. Giving up on the lunches, she decided there was nothing else for it, but to give the boys lunch money today. Lurching at Quassi’s collar she managed to grab him, and led him and the ham sandwich hanging from the corner of his smug mouth, up the stairs and into the bedroom.
    “Keep off the beds, and don’t you dare get into mischief,” she told him. Blatantly disregarding her, he leaped straight onto the bed and depositing the sandwich on the sheet, began to chew contentedly on his treasure, his tail wriggling happily on the pillow.
    The last thing she did before dashing out the door was to scrawl a note to Mr. Swindon, instructing him not to let Quassi out. Meli wasn’t sure how Quasi would react to a stranger; he seemed a very gentle natured dog, but she didn’t want the worry that he might take a bite out of Mr. Swindon’s privates.
    With a scowl on her face she slipped into the car, slamming the door behind her. “Well, you lot were a great help in there. And I hope no one dares moan that they are late today.” She threw the challenge at her children. When no one dared say a word, she thrust the car into first gear. Bumping up the track, she half listened to the boys as they gabbled away, while her mind went over all the things she had to do today.
    “What was that?” she asked, her eyes darting to the rear view