Page 12 of Escape to the Country

‘I’m okay,’ said her mother, holding her tight. ‘Just a stupid accident.’

Eleanor leant back to search her mum’s face. ‘Does it hurt?’

‘A little. They’ve given me some pills to take if it gets too much. Anyway, let me have a look at my beautiful, glamorous daughter.’

Eleanor breathed in her mum’s soft perfume and had to bite back the tears as she could see the pain in her eyes.

They shared the same emerald-coloured eyes. Same dark hair, except her bob was always immaculate and her mother’s hair was always worn too long and wavy. June had never seen the inside of a professional hairdressers when the kitchen scissors could do the job for free. Eleanor’s love of stylish clothes was also in stark contrast to her mother’s throw it on and make-do style.

Her mum had never been a money person. Nor a glamorous one. She had always declared that she didn’t have time to concentrate on herself. All her time and effort had been taken up raising her daughter single-handedly after Eleanor’s philandering father had left them both, to chase after some yet-to-be-discovered actress.

‘What happened?’ asked Eleanor, sitting down at the table.

‘It was on Monday,’ said her mum, shifting in her seat as if trying to get comfortable. ‘I tripped over a tree root in the garden as I was trying to get one of the chickens back in the coop.’

Eleanor automatically glanced out of the window to the messy corner plot beyond. ‘Chickens? You told me it was one of the kittens.’

‘Oh. Did I?’ Her mum looked sheepish.

Eleanor raised her eyebrows. ‘Since when did we have chickens?’

‘Ben found me some that needed a good home.’

Ben was her mother’s best friend. A gentle giant of a man who ran the veterinary clinic a few miles away. They had known each other since childhood and he was an honorary uncle as far as Eleanor was concerned.

‘And the fresh eggs are lovely,’ said her mother quickly. ‘Ever so good for you.’

A soft mewling drew Eleanor’s attention back indoors and she spotted the metal crate holding five kittens who were curled up in tight furry balls asleep. ‘I thought we talked about this at Christmas,’ she said, trying to keep her nagging tone soft. ‘Where did this lot come from?’

‘That awful pet shop,’ said her mum, looking stern. ‘Horrid man. Thankfully I heard he was going bankrupt and bought the lot before he could do his worst. You know what kind of man he was. They would have ended up in the river.’ June shuddered and gave the kittens a soft smile. ‘Aren’t they cute?’

‘Very.’ Eleanor sighed. There was no denying that the kittens were gorgeous but she had been here so many times before with her mother who just didn’t know when to stop. ‘So you’re looking after a couple of dogs and the kittens. Is that it? Apart from the chickens, which we’ll talk about in a minute.’

‘Yes.’ Her mum avoided eye contact with her. ‘Maybe a cockatoo.’

That explained the cawing bird somewhere in the house.

Something moving extremely slowly across the kitchen counter caught Eleanor’s eye. ‘And the tortoise?’ she asked.

‘Oh, he’s no bother,’ her mum said, waving a dismissive hand.

‘I should think not at that speed,’ said Eleanor.

There was a short silence filled only by an unexpected and loud hee-haw from the garden.

Mother and daughter locked green eyes.

‘We might have a donkey now,’ muttered her mum.

‘A donkey!’ Eleanor sprang up and looked out into the garden. Yes, there amongst the messy vegetable patch, the overgrown flower borders and the chicken coop was a shaggy brown donkey standing in the middle of the ruined lawn.

‘Oh Mum!’ Eleanor rolled her eyes in despair. ‘This is too much! We don’t live on a farm. We live in a tiny cottage next to the high street. What are you going to do with a donkey when winter arrives? What kind of shelter will it get and don’t say the garden shed!’

‘Oh Ellie! I couldn’t say no,’ said her mum, with teary eyes. ‘Where else would they go?’

‘They?’

Eleanor spun back around to look outside once more and, sure enough, a white goat had appeared from somewhere else in the garden.