Moonlight SERENADE
Donald Jones slipped his hand into his mother’s and gave her a worried look. ‘I’m not sure I like living here at The Grange,’ he said, as his chin wobbled.
Jenny ran a hand through his fair hair. He looked so much like his father. Would she ever be able to move on? It had been two years since he was lost at Dunkirk.
‘What is it, my love, what don’t you like about living here?’
Donald blinked back tears as he pointed towards the large gates at the front of The Grange.
She frowned. ‘I thought you liked the dogs? You often go to help feed and walk them,’ she said, praying Donald wasn’t becoming afraid – there was no getting away from dogs living here at a busy kennels. Stan, her employer, had taken in many dogs that had been abandoned since the outbreak of the war.
‘I love them all,’ Donald sniffed. ‘Why would someone leave a puppy tied to Stan’s gates?’
Jenny shook her head. How could
