The Mysteries of Brambly Hollow

mirror and the quarter image of George’s angled face when something they said caught her attention.
    “I’ve come up with a brainwave,” David trilled, straining at his seat belt as he leant forward.
    “No, you didn’t. It was my idea.” George’s outburst was accompanied by a punch on his brother’s shoulder.
    “Don’t start. Just tell me what the idea is.” She knew the boys and their ideas; they did not always meet with approval.
    “We’ve going to build a squirrel assault course, in the back garden,” they both announced gleefully, almost in unison. Negotiating a bend, Meli let the idea sink in for a second before responding, suddenly braking as the rear end of a tractor threatened to act as a buffer.
    Sounded harmless enough, but... She changed gear, stamped her foot heavily on the accelerator and shot around the trundling tractor. Still feeling slightly perturbed she said. “You can tell me all about it tonight.” There was no time now, as turning off the main road, they pulled up outside the school gates. Reaching into her handbag she retrieved her purse and handed them both £1.50. “Compliments of Quassi,” she told them, watching their eyes light up with neon images of chocolate bars and crisps. “And don’t go spending it on snacky things, please. Promise?” The boys nodded earnestly, but they all knew that what the eye didn’t see wouldn’t get them into trouble. At least she’d tried.
    Amazingly, despite the hold-ups at home, and the tractor, they’d made good time, and they arrived at the Willows just as the bell went. This novelty seemed to put Cassie into a good mood, as she actually had the decency to say goodbye.
    Meli made her way into town, driving with her window down at a leisurely pace, moving with the steady flow of the busy traffic, not that it compared one iota to the traffic she was used to. Driving down here was such a pleasure, she sighed to herself, enjoying the feel of the wind as it flipped her hair playfully; except when you got stuck behind a tractor; that could be aggravating, or when you rounded a bend on a narrow lane and came head to head with an inconsiderate imbecile, speeding in the opposite direction. The scenery was picture-postcard beautiful, with great expanses of woodland and open farmland, criss-crossed with hedges and streams. Easing back on the accelerator as she approached a junction, she hoped that she never came to take the landscape for granted. That would be a sin.

Chapter 8

    Meli didn ’t arrive back until 1.30 p.m. There was no sign of the plumbers white van. Had he been? Opening the boot, she grabbed as much as she could carry in one go, and hurried with it indoors. In the living room, she deposited the dog basket, blanket, and the all important flea spray on the chair and then stood and listened. Beads of perspiration began to seep from pores all over her body. It was oppressively hot in here, and all was quiet. She had expected that Quassi would bark. Some guard dog. Traipsing upstairs she found the door to the boys’ room open. A thorough search of the house revealed no dog; although there was a note from Mr. Swindon to say that everything was shipshape and in working order. She touched a radiator and snatched her hand away. It was boiling. That explained the stifling heat. Mr. Swindon had obviously left the heating on to prove it was working. Going to the airing cupboard she turned it off before throwing wide the upstairs windows.
    How could he have let Quassi out? And why hadn’t he had the decency to leave her a note to explain, or to at least apologise? She could really do without a dog hunt. Images of his little frame splattered by the side of the road somewhere sprang into her mind, giving her a sense of urgency. Letting herself out the front door she emptied the boot and abandoned everything just inside the cluttered hall, then stood and looked around her. If I were an escaped dog where would I go? Probably looking for some tasty female company. That wasn’t the most helpful thought, as she didn’t have the gift for sniffing out a bitch on heat. Maybe he would have gone back to his old home? She would probably find him sitting outside Elsa’s front door, although come to think of it, she didn’t know for sure that he had in fact ever been a resident at Brambly Hollow Farmhouse. Still, it was the obvious first port of call.
    She set off down the trail to the farm. She felt the first specks of rain on her nose and she