William is another character. Earlier that spring he’d been out in the field adjoining the road with his wives and, as Farmer Pursey believed in locking him in every night for safety (not that William was dan gerous but some fool might let him out), one of the features of the local scene had been Farmer Pursey calling him at about five o’clock every evening and waving a mangold, and William, who loves mangolds as dearly as Seeley loves turkey, sprinting across the field and following anticipatorily through the gate, across the road and down to his shed in the farmyard.
One Saturday afternoon, however, Farmer Pursey went to a football match and wasn’t back by five o’clock. William waited and waited and waited. After about twenty minutes the bellows of a bull urgently demanding his mangold began to rend the air. We heard the noise down in the Valley and wondered whatever it was. And finally William, refusing to wait any longer, broke through the hedge. Not, fortu nately, into the road, but into a neighbouring garden where, when Farmer Pursey returned a short while later, William was 159
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The New Boy
still snorting and loudly demanding his mangold while the owners of the bungalow kept watch on him – not from any fear of his fierceness, but so that he shouldn’t run away.
This being William, it was no surprise to us when we went to the gate and saw him grazing meekly in the field with Annabel in full command. She was only about half as tall as he was but there she stood, queening it over him and a cow and two calves like Cleopatra in the land of Egypt.
It was a good thing we didn’t go into the field, at that. He followed her right to the gate.
What she’d get up to this year, goodness only knew. There was a new Scotch collie for her to play with, and Mrs Pursey always spoiled her. What Seeley would get up to at Halstock we didn’t know either, and we certainly weren’t looking forward to the journey. Howling all the way, said Charles, shuddering at the very thought. But he bet he’d like it when he got there… Remember the first time Solomon and Sheba went there as kittens, he said, and they’d liked the earthbox so much they’d gone to sleep in it?
I remembered. I remembered so many things. We were right in having Seeley. He has been good for Sheba. He has been good for us. The household is normal once more.
Even as I have finished this book I have seen something I never expected to see again. Seeley and Sheba sitting side by side in the kitchen, their tails affectionately crossed.
If, sometimes, I look across to where the daffo dils are and say ‘Oh, Solomon… Solomon… Solomon…’… nobody ever hears me. I whisper it to myself.
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Document Outline
Cover
Copyright
Also by Doreen Tovey:
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN