‘Oh goodness,’ exclaimed a worried Etta as Chisolm started to eat the white roses in a blue tub by the front door, ‘I’m not sure what Valent Edwards will say. He’s been so kind letting Mrs Wilkinson stay, I don’t want to abuse his hospitality, and I’m not sure what Mrs Wilkinson will think.’
Despite the growing heat of the day, Mrs Wilkinson shivered in the orchard, gazing into space. She looked up listlessly as Dora led Chisolm towards her. At first they gazed, then sniffed, then nuzzled each other.
‘How sweet,’ cried Dora, giving them each a Polo. ‘They’re really bonding.’
But as she undid Chisolm’s lead, Mrs Wilkinson gave a scream of rage and chased the goat round and round the orchard, until Chisolm took a flying leap over the fence.
‘Goat’s the one who ought to go chasing,’ observed Paris, as Dora finally managed to catch her.
‘Don’t be so spiteful, Mrs Wilkinson,’ pleaded Dora.
As if she heard, Mrs Wilkinson trotted to the gate, called out to Chisolm, and they sniffed identical pink noses. When Chisolm was returned to the field, they both began to graze peacefully.
‘That was fun, just like the Famous Five,’ beamed Dora as they climbed back into the bursar’s Rover. ‘We should have brought Cadbury. What shall we rescue next?’
30
Returning from Washington a week later, Valent Edwards was irritated to find himself driving through a downpour towards Willowwood, ostensibly to find out why the builders were taking for ever but actually to check on Mrs Wilkinson. Sprinting through the rain to his one-time office, where he noticed the imposing oak door had been sawn in half, he heard a bleat and discovered Mrs Wilkinson curled up beside a large white goat. Etta, who was sitting in the straw beside them reading The Oldie, leapt up in embarrassment. She had been having tea with Painswick and was wearing a blue denim dress and looked much more attractive than he’d remembered her.
‘I’m so sorry, so very sorry,’ she stammered. ‘Mrs Wilkinson was so lonely and nervous of being turned out by herself into your lovely orchard, Dora and her boyfriend Paris rescued this dear goat. They adore each other and now Mrs W goes outside. She’d be in the orchard today if it wasn’t raining and the grass is doing her so much good.’
As if to prove her point, Mrs Wilkinson scrambled to her feet, whickering and nudging Valent with pleasure.
‘She recognizes you,’ said Etta in delight. ‘She’s so grateful for all you’ve done for her and so am I.’
Valent scratched Mrs Wilkinson behind the ears.
‘And I haven’t thanked her for her valentine,’ said Valent, suddenly aware that he’d pronounced the words ‘thunked’ and ‘vulentine’. Bonny’s voice coach had made him so self-conscious.
‘Oh, you got it,’ asked Etta, ‘and it was your birthday on the fourteenth too.’
‘Lousy day for a birthday.’ Valent got a packet of Polos out of his pocket. ‘You find loads of coloured cards on the doorstep and imagine they’re valentines from glamorous birds, and they turn out to be lousy birthday cards. And when I wanted to go out to celebrate and get wasted in the evening with my mates, I was expected to take Pauline,’ he paused, ‘and now Bonny out for a romantic Valentine’s dinner.’ Suddenly he smiled, lifting the heavy forbidding features like sun falling on the Yorkshire crags.
He’s gorgeous, thought Etta in surprise.
Hearing Mrs Wilkinson crunching Polos, Chisolm leapt to her feet, shoving Mrs Wilkinson aside, giving little bleats and butting Valent’s hand. Once she’d been given a few Polos, however, Mrs Wilkinson shoved her firmly out of the way.
‘Wouldn’t have done that at Christmas,’ said Valent approvingly, ‘and she looks very well. Where’d you find the goat?’
‘From some dreadful laboratory, but despite all the horrible tests she went through and apart from a slightly dodgy knee and a cough she seems to be fine. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about her. I wanted to send you a photograph, but she’s so affectionate, she rushes up to the camera before you’ve got time to take a picture.’
Chisolm started to eat The Oldie.
‘I must go and find Joey.’ Valent petted goat and horse and turned towards the half-door.
‘I’m sorry about that too,’ muttered Etta. ‘Mrs Wilkinson just loves gazing out and talking to your builders. It’s given her so much more confidence.’
‘More talking than building, judging by the progress of the last few months,’ said Valent dryly, ‘but I’m glad they’re both thriving.’