The convent hens were happy.
At night, they slept safely in a snug coop with sand on the floor and plenty of shelves for roosting. During the day they roamed freely and laid their eggs wherever they chose. A little bantam called Poulette liked the herb garden. Pauline, her mother, had once laid an egg on the chapel altar. Palinka, an intrepid young russet, flew as high as she could to lay hers in apple trees.
The gardener, Moses, had grown used to finding eggs as he worked, and he liked to look out for them. As he looked, he noticed other things, like caterpillars and butterflies, the discarded nuts of squirrels, tiny red flowers growing in moss, and he forgot all about gardening and eggs but lost himself in these treasures instead. Often on these occasions he smiled, and a dimple appeared in his left cheek.
Moses had been dimly aware of the sound of the cart returning, but he was far away raking a path at the top of the orchard, and had discovered an adder basking in a dip of the wall. He laid down his rake to watch it. The adder was brown and green, looped in elegant coils, beautiful. Moses slowed his breath to match the rise and fall of the adder. Somewhere in the distance, he heard a dog bark, but he ignored it.
His mind wandered.
Around him in the grass, hens scratched at the ground.
*
Federico was bored. He had hated Buisseau. Shut away with nuns, dragged along pavements on the lead. Back at the Sparrowhawk he longed to run and explore the woods with Lotti as they used to at Barton, but she was sitting all quiet and subdued with Clara, and had ordered him to sit too.
He obeyed, but it was no life for a dog. And then into the open door in the wall to the orchard there stepped the hen Palinka …
… who just stood there, foolhardy creature, her head cocked coyly to one side, practically inviting Federico to chase her …
It was too much for any chihuahua, let alone one who had suffered.
Federico did not hesitate. The Sparrowhawk’s roof was high, but this jump was nothing compared to the one at Emlyn Lock. The little dog tucked his legs beneath him and launched himself from the roof of the Sparrowhawk on to the jetty, where he bounced, gathered himself and with frenzied barking gave chase.
Palinka, with loud squawks, fled back into the orchard and up the nearest tree. Federico circled the trunk, yipping excitedly. Lotti ran after him, shouting for him to come back. She had almost caught up with him … her hand was about to close around his collar, when another hen appeared, and then another … a whole flock of hens at the far end of the orchard! Federico rolled, twisted and streaked away, a toffee-coloured blur, bat ears streaming.
Sister Monique emerged at the door of the kitchen, followed by a young nun called Sister Véronique, and then the Reverend Mother. Moses, seeing Federico charge towards him, shouted out, a garbled sound, indistinguishable as words, but loud.
On the Sparrowhawk, Elsie pricked up her ears.
Federico, oblivious to danger, galloped on. This was the life! This is what he was born for! This …
Ow!
Moses’ blow caught Federico off guard. It wasn’t a hard blow – it was aimed to deflect, rather than hurt – and it only clipped his shoulder, but it was enough to send him rolling into the long grass. Dazed, Federico staggered to his feet. Moses brandished his rake.
Federico prepared for war.
Behind him, he heard human voices, Lotti running, now followed by Clara and Sister Véronique. Circling him, there was the gardener with the fierce stick. Behind him, there were six fat hens …
And now, there was something else …
More barking, the thud of familiar paws …
Past him, a streak of black, heading straight for Moses …
Up went the rake, up and back, aiming at Elsie. Federico prepared to leap to her defence, but it was too late …
Elsie had already leaped.
*
The black and white dog hit Moses full in the chest. He staggered and fell, seeing stars. Barking, strangers, shouting … Someone crying. A voice he had heard before, somewhere …
Where?
Hot breath on his face. A rough tongue licking his cheek. A whine in his ear …
He reached up and sank his hand into thick fur.
In his wandering mind, something shifted.
He opened his eyes. Two wide golden eyes gazed back.
He knew those eyes. He’d known them since she was a puppy.
‘Hello, Elsie,’ he said.
And then a boy was running towards him, and the boy was screaming and sobbing and laughing all at once, and hurling himself on top of him and Elsie so that boy and man and dog were all lying in a tangled heap together in the grass, and Sam said, ‘Hello, Ben.’