Page 82 of A Fresh Start at Bramble Cottage
She hesitated. There had been so many times over the past couple of weeks when she had wanted to walk up to the farm, quite casually, just to say ‘hi’ and see if it might lead anywhere, but she hadn’t had the courage.
But she was going to have to speak to him now.
“Is there something wrong?”
He glanced up, seeming startled to see her. “Have you seen Rufus?”
“No. I’ve just come from work.”
“He’s been missing for two days.” His voice was tense with anxiety. “He’s never been gone for this long before.”
“Oh...” His genuine concern for the little dog broke through her reserve. “Wait — I’ll just drop my bag and change out of my work clothes, then I’ll come and help you look.”
His smile was brief, distracted. “Thank you.”
As she hurried up the lane to the cottage she peered from side to side, hoping to spot a small bundle of brown-and-white fur. But there was no sign of him, no scrabble of small paws.
She let herself into the kitchen and raced up the stairs, stripping off her business suit and grabbing a pair of jeans and a cotton sweater, throwing them on at top speed. Without stopping to brush her hair she ran back down the stairs.
Tom had walked a little further down the lane to the junction with Church Road.
“Where have you looked already?” she asked as she caught up to him.
“Up the lane and along the top road.” He pointed up past the farmhouse. “All the way down to the caravan park. And along here up as far as the main road. I... suppose I should look along there, but I’m afraid that... with all the traffic... speeding...”
He didn’t need to finish the sentence. “Has he ever gone up there before?”
“No. But if he caught a scent, or was chasing a rabbit or a squirrel...”
“Okay. Let’s go and look.”
“Thanks.”
The strain around his eyes made her long to reach out to him, but she held back. It had all got so complicated, and now wasn’t the moment to sort it out. They needed to find Rufus.
They walked up to the busy main road and along it for a good distance in each direction, one on each side, checking the hedges for any gaps that a small dog could wriggle through, calling his name.
It was a mixture of relief and disappointment when they found nothing.
“How about the cricket ground?” Vicky asked. “Have you looked there?”
“Not yet.”
“Okay — let’s try it. And the golf course.”
“Thanks — I really appreciate your help.”
“No problem.”
“Here.” He smiled crookedly as he handed her half a dozen dog biscuits. “A little bribery usually works with him.”
“Right.” Her heart creased in sympathy for him, as well as her own concern for the lively little terrier. “We’ll find him.”
She could only hope that she was right as they hurried down the hill to the cricket ground. He loved that dog — it must be awful to have him missing for so long, not knowing what had happened to him, imagining all sorts of dreadful outcomes.
The sun was sinking below the horizon, leaving its memory in streaks of gold and magenta across the darkening sky. They scoured the narrow lane leading to the cricket ground, and all round the ground itself, calling to Rufus, peering under every hedge and thicket, listening for any bark or squeak.
Nothing.
