‘Don’t be fucking stupid,’ snarled Paris, who, having spent the first fifteen years of his life in a children’s home, had a profound distrust of the police and flinched every time he saw headlights on the road below. He was already drenched in sweat.
‘It’s so biblical,’ sighed Dora as they followed the other volunteers, one leading three little goats, the rest leading two. ‘And Chisolm already walks to heel.’
Once out on the golf course, however, the goats, intoxicated by this brave new world, took off in all directions, tearing leaves off trees and hedges, not sharing any of the urgency of the volunteers who were risking prison to save them. The language was fruitier than over any missed drive or putt as the goats tugged their rescuers into bunkers and across fairways in the darkness.
‘Come back, you fucking animal,’ hissed Paris, falling down the ninth hole as Chisolm towed him across the green, rearing up on her hind legs and attacking a field maple. ‘Come bloody here, or you’ll be back in that compression chamber and we’ll be in the nick.’
‘We are not giving up,’ whispered Dora furiously. ‘And don’t swear at Chisolm or they won’t let us have her.’
Paris tugged, Dora pushed, Chisolm resisted and the lead broke. Paris unbuckled his trouser belt.
One by one, the little goats, tempted by treats, allowed themselves to be loaded into the waiting van. Only Chisolm refused to budge until she’d stripped every leaf within reach off the maple tree. ‘We can’t waste any more time,’ ordered Brunhilda. ‘We’ll have to take her back and swap her for one of the young ones.’
True to her capricious nature, and tempted by Nuala’s Polos, Chisolm decided to join the other goats in the van. She was even amenable to being loaded into Paris’s mother’s trailer, until the ramp slammed on her and she realized she’d lost her companions, when she tried to kick and butt the walls down. ‘She’ll probably settle down soon,’ said Brunhilda, shaking hands with Paris and Dora. ‘Thanks very much, and give us a ring tomorrow.’
‘If there’s a problem,’ advised Nuala, ‘you could always put her in the back of the car.’
‘Whatever,’ said Paris wearily.
Luckily the roads were emptier going home. Hercules had long sheathed his sword and gone to bed. Bootes had led his flock over the hill, and Capricorn the goat had appropriately risen. There was a pale apricot glow on the horizon.
Chisolm, having wheedled herself into the Rover, scattered currants all over the back seat, polished off the midnight feast of digestive biscuits, grapes and tomato sandwiches prepared by Dora, and now rested her head on Paris’s shoulder as the convoy rumbled towards Willowwood.
Dora was asleep, curls flattened by her discarded balaclava. Fiery aeroplane trails criss-crossed the angelic blue. Paris looked at Marius’s gallops, bare sweeps of grass dotted with occasional clumps as though some giant had missed them whilst shaving. Willowwood’s pale green willows barely moved above the ice-blue river.
In about four hours Paris would be taking his Greek exam. It felt rather pagan to be bringing home a goat, when his academic career was going to be sacrificed. His adoptive father, the bursar at Bagley, would not take kindly to such an exploit. Nor would the school. He needed a shower. Chisolm, nibbling his hair, smelled far sweeter than he did.
In the driving mirror, he could see Chisolm had long yellow eyes with a black hyphen for a pupil, a pink nose, pink ears, and a white coat turned rose by the rising sun.
‘You’re an escape goat,’ he told her.
In retrospect, he was proud he hadn’t crashed the car. It was quite an achievement the day after he’d passed his test.
Coming out of Little Hollow to take in the milk, Etta discovered Dora and a most beautiful youth with silver-blond hair, strange pale grey eyes and an even paler face, leading a white goat up the path.
‘Hello, Etta,’ said a beaming Dora. ‘This is Paris, my boyfriend. We’ve brought you a companion for Mrs Wilkinson. She’s a frightful show-off. Her name is Chisolm and she’s really tame.’
‘Oh my goodness, isn’t she lovely,’ stammered Etta. ‘Where did you find her?’
‘We rescued her from a hideous fate.’ Dora rolled her blood-shot eyes. ‘Paris was so brave, he lifted her up and shoved her into the back of the car when she tried to kick out the trailer. We’ve got exams in a couple