The Runaways by Victor Canning

dark. He had a quick wash in the kitchen, ate some of the biscuits he had left, and then tidied everything up in case Mrs Bagnall made a surprise visit.
    When he went out it was to find that the snow had all gone and there was a fresh wind blowing. Seeing the bulk of the barn against the sky, he tiptoed over to it. He didn’t want to leave the door open all day, but he wasn’t overlooking the fact that Yarra might have come back at some time during the night. He crept down the side of the barn. When he came to the door he reached quickly for the handle and pulled it shut with a slam, dropping the catch. He stood outside listening. If Yarra were in there, the noise would have wakened her and he would hear her movements. No sound came from inside the barn.
    A few moments later Smiler was pushing his bicycle up the hill away from Ford Cottage. At the top of the hill he began to ride and soon passed the spot where Yarra had crossed the road with her hare. But Smiler was not thinking about Yarra. He was giving himself a talking-to for not having thought of buying a bicycle lamp in Warminster. Although it was light enough for him to ride without danger, it was still officially dark enough for him to be showing a light. The last thing he wanted was to be stopped by some patrolling local policeman and have to answer awkward questions.
    Warm and snug in his pullover and anorak, he turned left at the crossroads in Sutton Veny. He had a good memory for maps, a ‘bump of locality’ as Sister Ethel’s Albert used to say. Thinking of Sister Ethel and her Albert, Smiler decided that some time soon he would have to get a message to them that he was all right. He didn’t want them going about thinking that maybe he was dead, or anything like that, and then writing off to his Dad and putting the wind up him. The problem of how he could send a message, without giving himself away, occupied him as he rode.
    Some time later, the light in the easterly sky brightening fast now, he passed over the Wylye river bridge at the point where Yarra had crossed the road on her way downstream. To his left he could hear the sound of the little waterfall. From the river bridge it was not far to the main road that led to Heytesbury.
    Smiler arrived at Danebury House at twenty minutes past seven. He was met at the drive gate by the Jack Russell whose name, he later learned, was Tonks when he was not in disgrace, and Mister Tonks when he was, which was pretty often. Tonks gave him a yapping welcome and then trotted up the drive alongside him.
    Smiler was met at the back door by Mrs Angela Lakey. She was dressed as he had seen her the day before, except that she now wore gum boots and a red beret.
    She greeted him heartily, smacking him on the back, and said, ‘Morning, Boy. Punctual. That’s what I like to see. Begin as you mean to go on.’ The whole time he was to be at Danebury House she never called him anything else but ‘Boy’.
    She gave him a cup of hot coffee in the kitchen, and instructed him in his duties. She then took him outside and ‘showed him the ropes’ as she called it.
    At Danebury House, Mrs Lakey – and her sister, Miss Milly Finn – ran breeding kennels for English and Gordon setters. They also had boarding kennels where people going on holiday, or Army folk going off on tour of duty abroad, could leave their dogs. There was a small section, too, which held room for about eight cats. Mrs Lakey would have nothing to do with these. She didn’t rate cats very high in the animal creation. But Miss Milly did and they were her responsibility, though Smiler had to look after them most of the time. Miss Milly ran the house, did the cooking, and kept the books without any outside help.
    In addition to these animals, there were also two hunters in a stable near the beech copse. These Mrs Lakey hired out to people who wanted to ride or hunt – but she took very good care that they were