Rainbow for Megan (13 page)

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Authors: Jane Corrie

BOOK: Rainbow for Megan
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As Megan walked Chas round the recreation field, she wished she could echo Mrs. Jones' words that someone would turn up. Who would take on a dog that size? As Mrs. Jones had said, the problem was twofold, the feeding and the walking. If only ...

She shook her head; the idea simply wasn't feasible, her father couldn't help the fact that he had an allergy to fur. Megan would have loved an animal of some sort, dog or cat, but it had been out of the question. She thought of Ray, and quickly dismissed that idea as well. If he'd wanted a dog he would have had one. She knew he often worked in the evenings, he wouldn't want the responsibility of taking him out each evening. Even if Megan offered to do it for him, there would still be the problem of what to do with him should he decide to dash up to town as he had just done.

Joanna? Her expression brightened for a second, then clouded over again. She, had spoken of getting a job, not to mention visiting her brother more often, so it was no go there either. Of Alain, or even asking

his help, the thought was instantly dismissed. As Mrs. Jones had so aptly put it, he was unapproachable these days, and she wouldn't ask him anyway, not as things were.

`Don't you worry, Chas,' she assured him as he bounded up full of the joys of spring to join her once again. 'We'll find someone, I know we will !'

CHAPTER NINE

MEGAN paid a visit to the vet the next day. If anyone would know who was likely to take Chas, he would. She drew a blank, and was given the depressing news that he was searching for a home for a young labrador at that precise time and there had been no takers so far.

Later that day, Mrs. Jones told her that there wasn't any immediate rush. 'I've only just put the bungalow on the market,' she said, 'and these things take time. Old Mr. Cameron spent months trying to sell his last year. If things get desperate we can always advertise, although I'm not keen on that. You never know what kind of people they are, whether they're suitable or not.'

Megan heartily endorsed these sentiments. She, too, would like to know where Chas was going.

Time, however, she discovered, was something they did not have, as an agitated Mrs. Jones unhappily pointed out the following morning. 'I wouldn't have thought it possible,' she said. 'Normally these things take months. I've just sold the bungalow to a couple who called this morning. They decided on the spot.

What's more, they offered cash,' she wailed, 'so there's no hold-up. They want to move in on the twelfth, and that only gives us nine days. It wasn't,' she said miserably, 'as if I could ask for time to check their credentials, they're friends of Mr. Browne.'

Megan's heart sank. Finding a home for Chas was hard enough, without having a time limit tagged on it. 'Couldn't you have asked for a couple of weeks? I mean, surely they can't expect you to get things settled in that time.'

`I did try,' she answered, 'but they have to leave their home on that date. It's a vicious circle, the people who bought their property insisted on that date. I couldn't very well ask them to put up at some hotel, especially when they know I have somewhere else to go, and I'm afraid the price was a very good one. I hate to sound mercenary, but you know these days every little bit counts.' She sighed. 'I suppose we must put an advertisement in the paper.'

`No,' said Megan. 'Not yet. I've just had an idea. I don't know why it didn't occur to me before, but I've only been considering local people. I know a young couple on a farm in Devon and there's an outside chance they might take him. I can but try, anyway.' She thought for a moment or so. 'I might have to borrow Chas for a couple of days, if that's all right. I'll pop down for the weekend and take it from there.'

As she hurried home, Megan thought of Mary and Kevin. They would be absolutely ideal, she couldn't think why she hadn't thought of them before; but she must not count on it. As she had told Mrs. Jones, it was worth a try.

Mary Gardner, now Granger, having married a farmer from her home town, Tiverton, had been a good friend to Megan in her earlier years. Her summer visits to her aunt in Meldham had brought them together, although her visits were too few and far between for Megan's liking, as Mary only visited her aunt during her school holidays for a couple of weeks. Megan had gone to Tiverton for her wedding three years ago.

She felt a pang at the thought; Alain had driven her down there, having been invited himself. She had been sixteen then, and Mary eighteen. The girls had had one thing in common at that time, a domineering aunt ! And they would often compare notes. Megan had suspected that Mary also had a soft spot for Alain, a crush it would have been called in those days, and she wondered if that had been the original reason Mary had tagged on to her at the start of their friendship. But as time went by, the girls really became firm friends.

When she got home, Megan rang Mary. 'Can you put me up for a night ?' she asked, after the usual enquiries after everyone's health.

`Of course we can !' Mary said indignantly. 'It's about time you paid us a visit. Do you know Ian's two now? It's odd, really, you ringing like this, we were only talking about you a week or so ago. Can't you make it a week?'

Megan carefully explained that she was now a working girl, and she would tell her all about it when she saw her the next day. Putting the phone down a little while later, she gave a sigh of relief. `So far, so good,' she muttered. 'It's up to Chas now.'

Having related the story of Chas's plight to her father the previous day, Megan was a little disconcerted to find he hadn't heard a word, and she need not have bothered. She had suspected his mind was elsewhere; he had a genius for looking interested and concentrating on an entirely different subject. She decided there was no point in ploughing through it again, and just mentioned the fact that she would be going to see Mary the next day and stopping the night.

`Does Alain know?' he asked vaguely, correcting a line of writing.

Megan frowned. `No. And I don't see why he should know. It's nothing to do with him. He wouldn't help anyway, and things are getting desperate.'

The next morning she collected Chas, together with his rug and tins of dog food, plus bowl for the use of. He looked a bit disappointed when he found

himself ushered into the car. Waving goodbye to Mrs. Jones, Megan hoped Chas would be a good traveller, especially as, after the first few miles, he leapt from the back seat to the front passenger seat and sat up, looking out and admiring the view.

On the way down, Megan gave him a lecture on how to conduct himself. 'You must be on your best behaviour,' she told him. 'No knocking people down, especially little Ian. Do you hear, Chas?'

She was halfway there when the thought struck her, making her slow up and seriously consider retreat. Sheep ! Heavens above ! She was certain Chas had never seen them. She went cold as her mind's eye sketched a picture of a joyful Chas pounding after them in high glee, and he wouldn't be rounding them up !

She then thought of Kevin, in some ways like Alain, and dependable. Kevin could train him. Alain had said he would make a good dog if taken in hand. She remembered how she had been able to train him to come to heel, and this thought gave her confidence and she settled back again and concentrated on the last lap of the journey.

It was close on lunch time when she arrived at Nappers End. The farm lay two miles out of the village, and soon Megan was drawing up in front of the old stone farmhouse. Getting out, she was about to let Chas out when, out of the corner of her eye,

she caught the shape of a large animal hurtling towards them from the house. She stared at it. It was the largest Alsatian she had ever seen, and from its fluffy fur she gathered it was only just out of the puppy stage. She hastily closed the car door, undecided whether to get back in and join Chas or stand her ground.

`It's all right,' Mary called, emerging from the stone porch. 'He's a big softie, but he will jump up.'

Megan, stroking the huge head, felt utterly deflated. Her journey had been in vain. They wouldn't be needing two large dogs, would they ? Perhaps this wasn't theirs? This thought, however, was soon dispelled by Mary.

`His name's Tawny. Isn't he beautiful? I couldn't resist him. You know we lost old Marty six months ago.' She bent forward and hugged Megan, then gave a sudden start and stared at the car. 'Good gracious, what's that?'

Megan turned and met Chas's reproachful eyes, his flat nose even flatter pressed up against the car window—quite a frightening sight if one wasn't prepared for it, and Mary hadn't been.

`That's Chas,' said Megan with a grin. 'He's a big softie too.'

Mary giggled. 'My goodness, he did give me a start. Is he yours ?'

Now was the time to tell the truth, Megan knew,

but somehow she couldn't bring herself to do so. The fact that Chas had been the only reason for her much belated visit made her feel ashamed, so she said, 'I wish he were. I'm just minding him for a day or so.'

`Well, let him out, then,' exclaimed Mary. 'You don't expect him to stay there all day, do you ?'

Megan wasn't sure how Chas would behave with another dog, but after the initial sniffing session the two raced around at a high rate of knots that slightly alarmed Megan. 'Where's Ian?' she asked, thinking that the poor lad would have to be steady on his feet to withstand the onslaught if he came within striking distance.

`Kevin's got him,' laughed Mary. 'Very brave of him, I thought, but he volunteered, so we can have a bit of a natter in peace. They won't be back until about one-thirty and I've everything ready for lunch. Come on in, I'll fix us a cup of coffee.'

Collecting her overnight case from the car, Megan accompanied her into the house. The house was very old, and low rafters proclaimed its age. Like Alain's, the farm had been in Kevin's family for generations. Children's toys lay scattered in the hall, one small wellington boot was flung in a corner, and a scribbled coloured picture half-finished with crayons, left for use again, lay on the polished dark oak hall table. As she sidestepped a model car, Megan grinned, 'And only one child, too !'

Mary grinned back and attempted to tidy up. `Trouble is keeping him occupied,' she responded. `You wouldn't believe what he gets up to. We just caught him taking the cuckoo clock apart the other day. Remember, it used to hang up there?'

Megan remembered. It had been a wedding present and a special favourite of Mary's. 'He got on a chair,' Mary continued. 'It just shows nothing's sacred. As you'll find out one day. How's Alain? I was half expecting him as well.'

`I don't know why you should,' Megan answered half truculently, wondering if it were possible to spend one day without his name cropping up.

`Still coming the heavy brother act ?' Mary grinned. 'You know, I can still see the pair of you at our engagement party. Do you remember Ginger Watkins offering to run you round the village on his motor bike ? There you were, perched up on the back waiting for him to start up on the promised joyride, and before you could blink an eyelid Alain had you off and was giving Ginger the telling-off of a lifetime. I'd never seen anyone move as fast as he did when he spotted you. And the look on your face ! Kevin said he pitied the chap you fell in love with, he'd have to get past Alain first.'

Feeling her heart jerk, Megan didn't know why Mary had had to bring that up at this particular time. She might as well, she thought, get it over with.

`He's courting,' she said airily.

Mary stopped on the way to the kitchen and turned round her brows raised in query. 'Is he now?' she queried. 'Who?'

Megan kept her voice casual. 'Iris Markham. I don't know if you remember her, she only came to the village after you got engaged.'

Mary frowned. Not the one who thinks she's Helen of Troy?' she asked, almost in wonderment.

Megan grinned at the description. She nodded. 'I must say it sounds like her.'

Mary came back and stared at Megan. For goodness' sake ! I thought he'd got a bit more sense. Unless she's changed a lot I can't see her as farmer's wife, even a rich farmer's wife.'

Megan felt sad, and looked it. 'There's no accounting for tastes,' she said.

`Are you sure?' demanded Mary.

`I'm sure,' Megan said quietly, and to her relief Mary did not pursue the subject.

Kevin joined them for lunch. He strode in with a fat bundle of boy tucked under one arm.

`I know it's asking for trouble,' rem
arked Mary, dishing up. B
ut has he been good?'

Kevin grinned. 'I will ignore that question,' he said, 'on the grounds that it may incriminate him.' He steadied him on his feet, and Ian toddled over to Megan and stood regarding her with his bright blue

eyes, so like his father's. The mop of black hair, his mother's contribution, was fluffed up in front. The two gazed solemnly at each other. Megan took in the tiny denims and the carefully patched knees, and the one wellington bootee. 'I know where the other one is,' she commented.

Ian continued to gaze at her as if she were an interesting specimen.

`He's got a thing about shoes,' observed Mary. 'I find them all over the place. I think he's one of the back-to-nature types—let's hope it wears off in time. Now come and sit down, it's ready.'

At that moment Ian spotted Chas, sitting next to Tawny on the kitchen floor, both recovering from their earlier excursions, and made a beeline towards him. 'Oh, no, you don't,' said Kevin. 'I've just scrubbed you up for lunch, my lad,' and he hauled him into his high chair. For a moment or so it looked as if Ian would protest, but Mary hastily placed a plate in front of him and he turned his attention to that instead.

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