The Homecoming

By Olive Clarke

Regal cat that he is, the Black Knight launches on his mission to rescue his daughter from the tribe of the High Ridge wildcats. Here he encounters the deviousness that surfaces when there is a lack of leadership in the feline community, and he is pressured into becoming involved. But how were they to know that their world would be turned upside down by catastophic events engineered by external authorities?

The church, like the towering peaks that look down on the town, would seem to be the bastion of all that is solid and unchanging. But how could both the feline and human communities be so wrong?

At the same time we witness an emerging romance involving the local hospital: what was for many a disaster, for this couple is unimaginable good fortune.

Three sagas evolve independently, each challenged with the great issues of Life and Death. At times their paths cross; but how will they cope and who will survive? The wise and foolish live alongside each other, as they react to circumstances beyond their control.

Each must find a solution that suits their needs. How will they pursue their lives beyond the pages of this book?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: May 13, 2024
• ISBN: 9798823086301

Book preview

© 2024 Olive Clarke. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 05/07/2024

ISBN: 979-8-8230-8629-5 (sc)

ISBN: 979-8-8230-8630-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2024902363

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

Chapter 1     Sea Of Memories

Chapter 2     Hitching A Ride

Chapter 3     Hearts Travel On Ahead

Chapter 4     Not The Best Of News

Chapter 5     An Unexpected Visit

Chapter 6     War Of Words

Chapter 7     A Busy Day Ahead

Chapter 8     Decision Time

Chapter 9     Into Action

Chapter 10   Down But Not Out

Chapter 11   Diversionary Tactics

Chapter 12   Sharks And Minnows

Chapter 13   In The Greenwood

Chapter 14   The Waiting Game

Chapter 15   A Meeting Of Minds

Chapter 16   The Ways Of Mice And Men

Chapter 17   Heated Arguments, Cool Decisions

Chapter 18   Absence Feeds The Heart But Not The Mind

Chapter 19   The Heat Of The Sun

Chapter 20   Lest Old Acquaintance Be Forgot

Chapter 21   The Bartered Bride

Chapter 22   When Things Move Too Fast

Chapter 23   To A Safer Place

Chapter 24   Let Not Your Heart Be Troubled

Chapter 25   Action And Reaction

Chapter 26   Hung Out To Dry

Chapter 27   Ramifications

Chapter 28   Fate Filled Decisions

Chapter 29   I Don’t Mind If I Do

Chapter 30   La Dolce Vita

Chapter 31   Beyond Your Wildest Dreams

Chapter 32   Good Friends

Chapter 33   The Parting Of The Ways

Chapter 34   Nemesis

Chapter 35   In The Nick Of Time

Chapter 36   The Lull Before The Storm

Chapter 37   Déjà Vu

Chapter 38   Sue Decides

Chapter 39   Home From Home

Chapter 40   The Best Things In Life Are Free

Chapter 41   Secrets Are For Sharing

Chapter 42   Winner Takes All

Chapter 43   Happy Ever After

Chapter 44   A Family Album

Postscript

CHAPTER 1

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Sea Of Memories

On a distant shore a huge black cat sat staring out to sea. Before him the wide expanse of ocean lapped its gentle song. The sea’s mood was benign, something it had not been lately; when winter storms had tossed angry waves onto rocks, they projected foam like confetti. Today the water resisted such impulsive behaviour; instead the sun’s sparkling feet tripped in rhythm with the gentle swell. Overhead, gulls swooped and dived, cart-wheeled and soared, their ceaseless energy proclaiming earth and sky as one. All this the Black Knight took in his stride, so that the beauty before him presented a mundane canvas. Yet to those of a more hopeful disposition, the seascape sported treasures, sapphires and emeralds, offset by lesser gems of rock and sand. The Black Knight sat in denial of such extravagance, for solitude had dulled his inner sight. The uncomfortable truth bore home more sharply than a sword. He remained at home, without his daughter for company; and after all, what use is beauty, if there is no one to share it? So in his loneliness he stared out to sea, willing himself wings to keep company with the wandering gulls.

To the untrained eye, the birds appeared much like each other; but here the Black Knight’s observation took on greater powers. He noted the subtle differences in plumage; the darker pinions barred black and white in varied fashion. The Black Knight seemed to be searching, for every now and then his eyes lit up in recognition. One of the gulls dived lower than the rest, circled, selected an appropriate rock, and landed. Then carefully it folded its wings, screeched in raucous delight, and waited.

So Auk, you have returned at last; I had almost given up hope, the Black Knight observed dourly. Tell me, have you news? Did you see her? From amid tufts of feathery down, the gull’s bright eyes focused on his friend.

Yes and yes, his cry rose and fell in unison with the ocean swell. I both saw and spoke with your daughter; alas she is far from happy.

I knew it, a hawser of a tail thrashed sand high in the air: such was the Black Knight’s despair. I should have gone with her, and seen her settled, he mourned dolefully. The stinging grains found their target, and the gull’s bright pinpricks flashed a sharp reproach. Secretly ashamed, the Black Knight grew conciliatory. You had better tell me everything, Auk, he reflected sadly. A desultory shake of wings marked the gull’s disapproval, as he considered where to begin. Over the past few days he had hardly rested: and away from his usual habitat had scavenged where he could. Eventually Auk chose to start from the beginning, which only added to the Black Knight’s impatience.

On your orders I took flight immediately, he began. I followed the Great Dark’s journey inland; together we stole through the valley. Auk eyed his listener: the Black Knight stared back impassively. ‘Let the story-teller have his way,’ he thought, as the gull continued.

Round about here our countryside is lush and green, unspoilt as nature intended; that’s why I was shocked by what I saw.

Which was? the Black Knight interjected sharply.

Landscape subjected to another’s rule, Auk retorted. Evidence of human meddling everywhere. Hills have been carved away, whole forests cleared, rich soil imprisoned beneath giant man-made tracks. That’s what I saw.

Is that the route Moggrich would have followed? The Black Knight was concerned: he had no idea his daughter would have faced such danger. If he had, he would certainly have accompanied her.

Near enough, I reckon, Auk considered. I wasn’t too surprised to hear she had met a human or two. She didn’t enjoy the experience, I can tell you. The gull caught the Black Knight’s dismay. You weren’t to know, he added consolingly. At least Moggrich was safe when I saw her.

Where was that? Did you have difficulty finding her? The Black Knight’s fears increased.

No-one can miss High Ridge; any flier will tell you that, Auk retorted. The mountain soars so high that its peaks are lost in cloud. Its bulk fills your vision, forcing you to wheel and bank. Deuced difficult to land in a high wind, I can tell you.

I have no use for flying lessons. The Black Knight fairly fizzed with emotion. What has happened to Moggrich? I must know the fate of my daughter. Alarmed by his anger, Auk sought a safer distance. An up-turned shell, long abandoned by its occupant, offered a suitable diversion. In a single up-sweep of wings, Auk fled the rock; and with a darting run reached his treasure. A quick probe with his beak, and the shell lay exposed in a sandy hollow. Dug unceremoniously from its bed, the shell’s empty eye stared upwards, unflinching; and unnerved by this soulless challenge, the Black Knight kept his distance. Auk stood back to admire his handiwork.

See that, he observed. Within that lies the voice of the Sea Cat.

How can that help me? Mystified, the Black Knight saw little advantage in the gull’s efforts.

Press your ear to it, and close your eyes, oh disbeliever! Auk directed firmly. See and hear for yourself.

Doubt acting as bait for his own folly, the Black Knight hesitated. Then with a studied air of pleasing those who should know better, he rolled onto his side; and with a turn of the head pinned his ear to the shell’s lip. Dreamily he closed his eyes, and waited. In his ear breathed the rush of the tide, the gentle swish of the ocean’s rhythmic beat. Lulled to another strand, washed clean by sleep’s oblivion, an underlying sound caught his attention. This was equally soft, of similar rhythm, but contained more familiar tones. To the Black Knight’s surprise and joy, he recognised his daughter’s purr; and into his mind swam a vision of a stream, clear and sparkling. Beside it sat a feline form; and to the Black Knight’s delight, father and daughter recognised each other.

Can it really be you? Her question was rhetorical, for now they sat close together; and from within the shell the sound swelled, as the Black Knight recognised his own deep throated purr.

How I’ve missed you, he cried. I wish I had travelled with you. At the mention of her journey, Moggrich’s joy faded: she nestled closer to him, and he sensed her fear.

I wish I had never come! she cried. I hate it here. Her father sought to comfort:

But you have your mate, he counselled. Your uncle, the Chief, would have seen to that.

The Chief’s dead. He died before I arrived, Moggrich bewailed Fate’s dastardly betrayal. His successor wanted nothing to do with me. He loves another; I could see it in his cold green eyes. At that the Black Knight roared his anger aloud. How dare his daughter be so slighted! She was of royal blood, and could expect the same of the mate she took. In that instant he avowed to avenge her. The vision faded, and he sat up sharply; the shell stared up at him, reproachful in its innocence. Anger welled up once more, and in a pang of remorse, the Black Knight scrunched the fragile structure into the sand. Turning in a flash, he raced along the shore, his fleeting form throwing up spray after spray as he hit the shallows. The Black Knight cared little for the impromptu drenching, for he had one thought in mind: despite the dangers he may meet, Moggrich must be rescued. He, the Black Knight himself, would travel to High Ridge and avenge his daughter’s honour. Overhead the gulls screamed their hunger, as they eyed the distant waves below. Only the loyal Auk watched the Black Knight’s departure, and followed overhead.

As he ran, the Black Knight’s thoughts raced ahead of him. If the trusty Auk could be relied on, his mission was going to be both difficult and dangerous. Perhaps he should seek company, rather than travel alone. A rocky spur thrust itself into deep water; and on it the Black Knight glimpsed a candy-striped tower moulded with the same defiance as the rock on which it stood. Further back in the comparative lee of the shore, and dwarfed in comparison, a bright white shack offered the one concession the Darklands made to human habitation. Known as the Head Light, the Tower housed the huge lantern, which night after night swung its beams out to sea. In the trim shack lived the keeper, whose task it was to keep the mounting moving smoothly, allowing the powerful beacon to wield its warning. It was a lonely life for keeper Bob, save for the company of his dog, Biscuit, and his cat Bos’un. It was the latter the Black Knight sought now, and whom he hoped would accompany him.

Enjoying the late afternoon sun, Bos’un sat patiently on the worn, wooden doorstep; not overly big, nevertheless he was sleek and well fed. A ginger tabby cat, he was the picture of health; and from behind the half-open door, every inch as slick in its new green paint, wafted a tantalising smell of herring cooking. Bos’un was lucky: he had no need to forage these days. Bob had found him abandoned as a kitten, and from that time forth the Head Light had been his home. Yet despite the comforts he shared with Biscuit, and a master he loved, Bos’un dreamed of new horizons. He longed to travel and see new sights. It was this appetite for adventure the Black Knight hoped to put to his advantage.

Ahoy, Bos’un, he called out. What are you about?

Bos’un looked up sharply. Waiting for supper, that’s what. Stay and share it with me if you like.

Don’t mind if I do. Smelling the herring, the Black Knight became acutely aware of his own hunger gnawing away inside. Just then the door opened wider; and Bob’s hand appeared around it, holding a bowl of steaming hot fish.

There you are, he announced cheerfully. See what you can do with that! Two drooling mouths promised obedience to his bidding, the pair hardly waiting on the niceties of Bob’s retreating footsteps inside the cabin. A scrape of chair legs over the wooden floor, and a deep intake of breath followed by a pleasurable sigh, told Bos’un his master was about to do the same.

The two cats fell about the herring, dragging large lumps of fish from the bowl. They ate silently, yet methodically; keen that nothing remained for a gull’s eagle eyes to feast on. When the empty bowl had passed inspection several times over; and anxious not to be disturbed, the Black Knight led the way towards the surf-shaven rocks behind the Light. There out of sight, tasting the tang of the incoming tide, agog with rising excitement, Bos’un eyed his friend. There were times when he envied the Black Knight’s freedom, particularly on balmy nights as these.

Well, what are you up to? he hissed. You haven’t just come to share my supper.

Sadly, no, the Black Knight agreed, a random thought occurring to him. Do you get a supper like that every night?

Most times, yes; I certainly don’t go hungry, Bos’un admitted, although I’d quite like to catch it for myself sometimes. The Black Knight saw his opening.

I may be able to help you there, if you’re serious that is. Riveted by such an unexpected offer, Bos’un fixed every sense he possessed on his friend. For a second the Black Knight doubted his own wisdom. Hunger is always tempting on a full stomach; yet if he made his mission sound too challenging, it might put Bos’un off completely. In the end he decided to make an honest assessment of the situation. Look, Bos’un, he confessed. I’m in about as big a pickle as that herring we’ve just eaten. Moggrich is in trouble, and needs my help. Will you come with me? Bos’un’s golden eyes widened.

Your daughter, who went to High Ridge, the one who was going to take that Chief’s heir as mate?

The very same, only it seems her chosen had other ideas. The Black Knight gave a snort of disgust. I intend to teach the scoundrel a lesson he won’t forget in a hurry, and bring Moggrich home in the bargain. Are you up for it? Bos’un considered: this was the adventure of his dreams; but as sleep sacrificed other senses, so he could see this adventure demanded sacrifices of its own.

It’s a long way, he reasoned. We’ll be away for some time. What will Bob think? I don’t want to find another cat in my place on our return. He had a good point and the Black Knight reflected carefully.

Tell Biscuit, he’ll understand, he concluded. He’ll be able to chase away any cat which tries to take your place. Torn between natural caution, tempted by excitement’s allure, Bos’un mulled the idea over: It might just work.

What are you two plotting? A low growl made both cats jump. At this unwelcome interruption, the Black Knight spat angrily.

I wish you wouldn’t creep up like that.

Have to, if I want to keep my eye on you. Bored by the whole affair, Biscuit yawned; he turned to Bos’un, What mischief is your friend trying to talk you into now? His incongruous stump of a tail twitched; and in the dark depths of his eye curiosity sparkled. Well, what are you going to tell me?

Bos’un cast a quick eye on his friend; the Black Knight nodded imperceptibly, after all if he was to persuade Bos’un, he would require Biscuit’s help. Despite being cat and dog, the pair always looked out for each other, enjoying a friendly rivalry for Bob’s attention.

I’ll tell him, Bos’un. The Black Knight eyed the dog keenly. I have to travel to High Ridge, to find my daughter. I asked Bos’un here to run with me, he’s always wanted adventure, he added artfully.

It’s true, Biscuit, you know it is, Bos’un had been given his cue, and his eyes blazed in excitement. In his mind, he already tasted delights far from home. Except that… he faltered a moment, as he wrestled with his feelings, except that it means leaving you and Bob, he concluded flatly.

Glad to hear you have a modicum of good sense at least, Biscuit observed grandly. He was a boxer, with a boxer’s love of excitement. As a young pup, he had been into every scrape imaginable, that’s how he had his name. For Bob would often tell his friends, at first he didn’t know what to do with him. That dog’s behaviour takes the biscuit, he would say each time he sorted out another of Biscuit’s misdeeds. Nevertheless Biscuit’s love of life echoed Bob’s own; and that coupled with the boxer’s intense loyalty had sealed their relationship. Now adult, having left excesses behind him, Biscuit was the model of a well-trained dog, outwardly at least. So above all, he understood Bos’un’s dilemma, although he chose to hide it.

Bob will be sad if you desert him, he counselled. He’ll blame himself for not looking after you. And that’s not fair, he ended sternly.

I know, Bos’un gulped. I don’t want to hurt him, or find… Biscuit finished his thought for him,

…or find another cat in your place, when you deign to return, he suggested, noting the glumness which had all but smothered Bos’un’s earlier excitement. With a boxer’s intelligence Biscuit considered the problem: eying first one then the other. The Black Knight remained silent, content to let the pair sort it out between them. Biscuit stared out beyond the rocks. Darkness had come: an impatient sea added a trim of foaming lace to the barren rocks. Once more the water’s mood had changed as had its appearance. Gone was its blue morning dress: instead a slinky black satin hinted of secrets, only comfortable away from daylight. Under the cover of night, the sea revealed a depth and solidarity to its movement, which in the daylight held its own sparkling transparency of purpose. To Biscuit it seemed these hidden undercurrents presented a way best suited to the problem. He had to find a way for Bos’un to take his leave, without the latter fearing the worse. An idea occurred to him.

There might be a way for you to be absent for a while, he concluded, without Bob being too upset. Bos’un looked taken aback, and Biscuit went on hurriedly.

Oh he’ll miss you all right, and you couldn’t be too long away; but it could be done. Save you a good deal of effort in the process.

How? The Black Knight cared little so long as he reached High Ridge. Biscuit studied him.

How much time do you need, would a moon time be long enough? The Black Knight considered, after all this wasn’t a social call on relatives: his plan was to deal with the offender, and bring Moggrich with him.

I reckon so, he concluded. Biscuit leaned forward earnestly:

Well then, here’s what we will do. Heads together, ears pricked and alert, the cats listened as if their lives depended on his every word. Every month Bob has supplies brought out to him, Biscuit explained. They come in a van, up from Glassington, and as luck would have it, they are due tomorrow. At this piece of intelligence the cats stared at him blankly. Don’t you see, Biscuit continued patiently. Bob is his last stop off. I’ve seen inside the van many times; and at that stage there are a lot of empty boxes, and plastic piled at the back. When the groceries have been brought inside, there is just time for both of you to jump in and hide. Then the van is driven back to Glassington.

But how will that help Bob? Bos’un was concerned.

Because when the van leaves, I’ll run after it, barking loudly, and I’ll make sure Bob sees me, Biscuit trembled excitedly. When Bob finds you missing, he’ll think my barking was to tell him you had slipped unnoticed into the van, and been driven away. He’ll ring the driver I know, and ask him to keep an eye out for you. He ended on a note of triumph. All you have to do, is to make sure the driver finds you before his next trip out here. He’ll ring Bob to say you’re safe; and you’ll have a free ride home. He turned to the Black Knight: I’m afraid I can’t promise that for you and your daughter.

No matter, the Black Knight wasn’t too sure he liked coming so close to humans; and after her experiences, Moggrich certainly wouldn’t. Still, Biscuit’s plan had the advantage of getting there, quicker than he could ever run. He and Moggrich would then make for home in their own way. We’ll travel back at our own pace, he ventured.

Then it’s all agreed! cried Bos’un in delight. I knew Biscuit would think of something… he broke off for the cabin door had opened.

Biscuit, Bos’un, where are you? Bob’s voice was clear. Come on, it’s time for bed, and we’ve an early start tomorrow. The Black Knight shot both of them a warning glance:

You’d better go. I’ll bed down here behind the rocks. On the instant of his master’s call, Biscuit had already leapt to his feet.

Try the shed, he mouthed, It’s always open, and with his eyes fixed firmly on the object of his affection, he bounded towards the door. Good humouredly, Bob wrestled his dog down beside him.

Sit! he ordered. Now where has that cat got to? In answer to his question, a ginger streak dashed past him into the house. The Black Knight watched as the door shut firmly; and listened as ancient bolts grated behind it. Safe and snug, the cabin closed its eyes, as one by one the lamps were extinguished. A wisp of wind echoed the night chill, and the little shed promised a welcome haven from its meanness. Blinking back sleep’s gentle persuasion the Black Knight crept inside, where a pile of sacks offered a comfortable bed. Fed and warm, he rested, content to consider tomorrow’s mission. Inside the cabin, Biscuit slept soundly in his usual place at the foot of Bob’s bed. Bos’un had curled up in his box beside the fire. The glow of the dying embers in the wood stove caught the golden glint of excitement in his eyes. Where, he wondered, would he sleep tomorrow night?

CHAPTER 2

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Hitching A Ride

The sun’s outstretched fingers fumbled sleepily over horizon’s blanket. Into the day’s first light, eerie shapes took solid forms as night once again slipped away. A rolling haze steamed towards the shore, where feathered raiders made the most of its camouflage, to probe the tide-brushed strand. Rapier sharp, their beaks chanced on one delight after another, their trophies disappearing in a flash lest they became stolen bounty. One-legged sentries stood to attention, saluting their heavenly number soaring high overhead, heralding the new day with clarion cries. Among them, Auk wheeled and banked, dived and dipped in dawn’s mass celebration, although his gaze remained focused far below him. The lighthouse stood steadfast and reliant, its duty not quite done, for now and then its klaxon sliced through the mist, its warning stark and forbidding. Around the Tower, the freshly washed rocks provided rich pickings for the hungry; and as soon as he was decently able, Auk broke company. Landing swiftly, he hopped about, poking his razor-sharp bill into drenched crevices, much to the alarm of marine life in hiding. His hunger finally satisfied for the time being at least, Auk preened his feathers and waited patiently.

The shed’s weathered door opened slightly. A whiskered muzzle sniffed the early morning air, as the Black Knight crept from his night’s lodging. Tousled, still riddled with sleep, he shook himself hard, and looked around him. The door of the cabin remained firmly shut; and the silence from within told him the occupants had yet to rise. Breakfast would be some time in coming; and the Black Knight made his way across the sea-scrubbed grass, to the rocks where the gull perched precariously.

So I found you. Auk sounded put out. You could at least give some notice of your movements, he added glumly.

Don’t reckon I was too clear what they were myself, the Black Knight rejoined amiably. Last night’s plan came out of nowhere.

And nowhere leads to somewhere, Auk remarked sulkily. He glowered at his friend: If it’s not too much trouble, how about letting me in on your secret?

I’m going to bring Moggrich home, the Black Knight in semi-wakefulness was brief; Bos’un is coming with me. We leave for High Ridge today. His revelation was met with utmost scorn: And when did you last do a heavy run? Auk demanded, eying in disgust the Black Knight’s overly rounded figure.

We’ll be riding, not running, snapped the retort. In a van, not that it’s any concern of yours. Auk digested this intelligence in silence: a tiny crab translucent against the rock, caught his eye. The gull’s beak flashed, and in a single scissor movement the tasty morsel was despatched without ceremony. Guess you’ll find inside the van is attractive as the crab has found inside me, he commented dryly. You’ve never had much truck with humans, as far as I can remember.

Like the crab, I don’t reckon I’ve much choice in the matter, observed the Black Knight dourly. Embarrassed by Auk’s bluntness, he had to admit the gull had a point. It was Biscuit’s idea, he added fretfully.

Of course, Auk sounded unimpressed. A dog always seeks to wag the tail of its master.

Saving in this instance, it’s my tail at stake, not his. The Black Knight’s nervousness surfaced despite his bravado. He looked back at the cabin door, and fancied he heard movements inside. Auk’s tasty morsel had reminded him of his own hunger.

Come on Bos’un, he mewed pitifully. Stir your stumps: rouse your master: I want some breakfast! On cue, the welcome sound of bolts shot back, rewarding his hope. The door opened and Bos’un appeared, rubbing his head against Bob’s legs. His reward followed instantly as a large plate of canned rabbit wafted its own special promise. Hunger is rarely polite; and before Bos’un had downed a mouthful, two other guests arrived for breakfast. The greedy Auk set about a lightning raid, while the Black Knight, head well down, gulped back the food in indecent haste. Only a stubborn paw, and Bos’un’s outraged hiss, forestalled both from making a satisfactory clearance.

Wait to be invited, won’t you. Bos’un bristled with indignation. After all this is my breakfast too, in case you hadn’t noticed. For his cheek, the Black Knight looked suitably abashed.

Just wanted to see your owner’s done his best by you, he grunted. Conscience belatedly overtaking greed, he studied the near-empty plate. He’ll give you some more, won’t he? he asked.

Seemingly he’ll have to. Bos’un clawed in desperation at the closed door.

Patience Bos’un, Bob’s command rang out in exasperation. Interlopers can never be sure of welcome; and as the door opened again, Bos’un discovered he had been left to explain. Cursing his luck, he gazed upwards in appeal and apology, first at Bob, then back at the empty plate. Bob stared down in disbelief, hardly crediting the evidence before him. What’s happened to your appetite this morning? he grumbled. You surely can’t want more?

Bos’un’s frantic gaze showed clearly that this was the case, and a tiny cry of complaint escaped him. To Bos’un’s relief, Bob retreated, and then reappeared with a saucer of meat. Bob picked up the empty plate.

Don’t expect a refill, he grumbled. You’ll eat me out of house and home. Bos’un looked suitably ashamed. You’ll have to wait until the order comes, Bob continued, setting the saucer down where the plate had rested; and with that he went inside, shutting the door behind him. Little heed was paid to the stark warning. Bos’un, nose, whiskers and jaws steeped in the saucer’s delights, coughed and spluttered in his haste. Watery-eyed, he burped once, then twice, and ran his tongue round his whiskers. No food remained; and only then did Bos’un relax, and look around for his friend.

From his vantage point the Black Knight struggled to contain his impatience. Now that Bos’un had satisfied himself, he felt it only reasonable to check there had been no unnecessary wastage. Auk joined him, and somewhat smugly, Bos’un watched as the pair subjected the saucer to a detailed inspection. He was in no doubt; the saucer gleamed brightly, polished to perfection. This time his friends were out of luck. With a raucous curse at this betrayal, Auk fluttered off, for several deep barks coming from inside, warned that Biscuit was ready to chase the new day.

Caught up in a whirlwind of snuffling muzzle, high kicking paws and a thumping tail stump, the Black Knight had little choice other than beat a retreat. From the corner of the cabin he watched the dog’s antics. Freed from the confines of an interior, which demanded a pretence of respect, Biscuit leapt and bounded around Bob in sheer delight, his eyes fixed on a well-chewed ball in his master’s hand. In answer to his silent plea, Bob flung the ball. With an arrow’s precision, it arched across the lane, then dropped, striking the smooth trunk of an elm, to fall like a stone into long grass. Biscuit waited on Bob’s command; then he was away, eyes fixed hard ahead, tongue lolling loosely. For once, speed of foot outstripped that of thought, and Biscuit pawed the ground in expectation; he was disappointed.

It’s over there, an out-flung hand underlined Bob’s conviction. Never doubting his own instinct, Biscuit ignored him. Daft as ever, that dog. Bob shot a quick glance first at his watch, then up the road. Let’s hope Jed will be here soon, he muttered. I don’t know where to start this morning. A fretful whine reminded him that Biscuit reckoned there were more pressing issues to be considered. All right, I’m coming, Bob called in answer to Biscuit’s impatience; I suppose I had better find it for you. More pitiful sounds followed; and in his haste, Bob all but tripped over the two cats sunning themselves contently, as he rounded the corner of the cabin. One glance at the Black Knight’s guilty stare, and Bob guessed the reason behind Bos’un’s increased appetite.

So I’ve been feeding your friends again, have I? he grumbled, as Bos’un tried to make amends by rubbing round his legs. Well don’t expect any supper from me tonight. I’m not made of money. Annoyed, Bob pushed Bos’un away. And you can get out from under my feet, he continued, ignoring Bos’un’s hurt expression. Make yourself useful and catch some mice for a change. He broke off at the distant sound of a vehicle bumping along the unmade road. Jed’s on time today, Bob’s humour returned. Best go and put the kettle on; he’ll be ready for a cup. Ignoring the two cats, he strode inside, and Biscuit bounded over to them.

Right, this is it, he warned. Keep hidden until the van is unloaded and the driver’s indoors with Bob, then hop aboard. He gave a woebegone Bos’un a friendly nudge; Bob didn’t mean to be cross; he’s had bad news this morning. His aunt’s in hospital, right poorly I gather. He’ll get over it.

But I won’t be here, now the adventure was upon him, Bos’un was briefly troubled, and Biscuit took firm action. The convenient cover offered by a salt-wizened shrub beckoned; a sharp nip at his heels, and Bos’un found himself installed behind it. That done, Biscuit looked around for the Black Knight, but like the ball, he had disappeared. Biscuit’s searchlight gaze narrowed for a second. A long black tail twitched incongruously beneath a garden bench, only to disappear, save for its blackened shadow. All was in place, and Biscuit took up his position of welcome, as the roar from a spluttering engine increased.

A blue van shuddered to a halt, its ancient engine barely fading before the driver’s door was thrust wide open. A black and white hound leapt out barking widely in excitement. Frantic wagging of tails and playful nipping ensued as each dog greeted the other; and Jed turned his attention to the rear of the van. A sharp pull and a twist on the battered handle, and the van’s rear doors swung open. Curiosity getting the better of restraint, Bos’un craned his head to catch a glimpse inside. As promised, a mound of cardboard and plastic from earlier deliveries littered the back of the van. From beneath the jumble Jed pulled out two boxes, and cast a practiced eye over them. Satisfied all was in order, he swung both boxes up against his chest; and turning on his heel, aimed blindly for the cabin. Whereupon his juggling act growing ever more adventurous, he managed a loud knock on the door. All this the Black Knight watched with apprehension: the prospect of sharing a van with Bos’un was one thing, to share it with an unknown canine was another. There and then he was tempted to call the whole thing off.

A cry of, come on in, echoed in muffled welcome: a reverse flip, a backward kick, and Jed had entered. He set the boxes down on the small kitchen table, straightened with a satisfied sigh, and looked around him. Like many bachelors, Bob’s home was clean, but worn. The solid dresser had resigned itself long since to muddled neglect. A motley collection of mugs and plates vied with other things which Bob kept readily to hand. A large torch and its set of replacement batteries had been squeezed beside a battered collecting box, in aid of the lifeboat fund. The latter having collected more dust than coin, had been deemed unworthy of collection, and now overflowed with string and elastic bands. Everywhere inside the cabin, evidenced denial of a woman’s touch, as curtains, faded by many summers hung lifelessly at the windows. Below them, despite being made with regimental precision, the bed on closer inspection revealed frayed blankets tucked around a lumpy mattress.