Kingfisher Morning

'She gets down to the stream where the anglers sit,' Joe nodded. 'It isn't the first time one of my cats has come home with a hook in its mouth…they think they're so clever, nipping off with a hooked fish.'

Ross deftly extracted the hook. The cat spagged him viciously, her lips drawn back in pain and rage, then with an eel-like movement escaped and vanished into the darkness of the barn once more.

'She'll heal in God's own good time,' Ross shrugged. He returned to the horse and Emma wandered back to the car. Ross joined her later and drove her back to Dorchester to pick up the children.

'Stay to tea,' invited Chloe hospitably.

'Thank you, but Edie will be waiting for us,' Emma smiled. 'You've been so kind already. Thank you for everything you've done. I've thoroughly enjoyed my day.'

'Come again soon,' Chloe pressed as they drove away.

'Oh, do let's,' Tracy said eagerly, and the others nodded.

As they neared the village they passed a high-walled park which attracted Emma's attention. Through the open iron gates she saw rolling lawns, oak trees, an avenue of beech trees. She was about to ask Ross about it when she saw the house through the trees, and recognised Queen's Daumaury, unmistakably lovely in the late afternoon light, even in such a flashing glimpse.

Negotiating the narrow bend beyond it, over a low hump-backed bridge, they had to draw into the edge of the road in order to let another car pass over the bridge and then pass them going towards Queen's Daumaury. The car was long, sleek, shining, a powerful, expensive toy. A chauffeur was at the wheel. In the back sat an old man, and beside him sat a familiar blonde head.

Amanda leaned forward to wave to Ross. He gave her a curt nod. The old man glanced at them, then away, without a sign of interest. That, thought Emma, must be the mysterious Leon Daumaury. For such a very rich, powerful man he was disappointingly shrunken, his head averted indifferently.

'Who's that?' Robin asked curiously, in his shrill treble.

Tracy answered flatly without waiting for Ross to speak. 'It's Grandfather, silly.'

CHAPTER FOUR

Astonished, Emma looked at Ross with eyes full of incredulous inquiry, but he was staring straight ahead at the road, and did not appear to have heard.

Their car moved forward smoothly at that moment, and she had no time to ask what Tracy had meant. Robin had said something which Emma could not quite catch, then his voice broke off as Donna, full of wonder, cried, 'Look!'

Her small finger pointed skywards. They all gazed up and a satisfied silence filled the car as they saw a creamy barn owl swoop out of the gabled end of an old barn. Twilight was hastening on; the sky was a dusky grey, threaded with palest pink, and the birds were making their sleepy farewells.

'Hoot, hoot…' crooned Donna.

'Owls eat mice but not their feet or their tails,' Robin declared calmly.

'No,' Ross agreed. 'The owl wraps up all the bits he doesn't want and deposits them as a pellet.'

'Good idea,' Robin nodded. 'I wish I could do that.' He gazed sideways at Tracy. 'When I had sticky porridge to eat…'

She went red and glared at him. 'Don't start that again!'

'We're almost home,' Emma said hastily. 'I wonder what Edie has got for our supper? She said something about baked potatoes in their jackets.'

'Mmmm…' Robin swayed, ecstatic, his eyes half shut.

'And tomato soup,' Tracy added importantly.

'Thoup…' Donna nodded. 'For me.'

'For all of us, silly,' Tracy told her squashingly.

'Ethpecially for me,' Donna insisted.

The car turned in at the track leading to Rook Cottage. The children abandoned their squabble and craned forward until Robin's sharp eyes caught the yellow gleam of light from the windows.

'We're home, we're home!' shouted Tracy, dancing up the path with the other two struggling to keep up in the rear.

Edie appeared in the doorway, beaming. 'So you are, m'dears. Come you in and have your supper.'