Audrey unpegged the last shirt from the line and put it in the basket, balanced the basket of dry laundry on her hip and headed for the back door. Another load of washing done, another load of ironing to do. In a house of vets, the chores were never ending.
She stepped through the door into the kitchen and was met by barking. That in itself was not unusual; Jess and Dash could be chatty at times. What was unusual was that she didn’t recognise the barker. She dropped the basket onto the table and looked down.
“Hello,” she said to the small, slender dog hovering near the table leg, “and who are you?”
It tilted its head at her as though it understood, and barked again.
There was a thump and a bang in the larder. She put her hands on her hips and eyed the door. “Come out, whoever you are!”
She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but she had to smile at Richard Carmody’s sheepish face as he sidled into the room.
“I – um.”
“Is this yours?” she asked, pointing at the dog.
“No." He paused. “I mean, yes.”
“Illuminating,” she said dryly. She turned to her basket and began taking out the shirts, stacking them ready to iron. “Is it here to stay?”
“He,” Carmody said immediately. “He’s called Hamish.”
She glanced down at the dog. “Nice to meet you, Hamish. I’m Mrs Hall.”
“Hamish belongs to a lad who’s been called up. He didn’t have anywhere to go.” Carmody held himself upright and still, as he did when he expected to have to fight his corner. “I said I’d look after him, while he’s away.”
Audrey smiled at him. What a good lad he was. “That were very kind of you,” she said.
“I – haven’t spoken to Mr Farnon yet. If it’s too much bother having him here, I can go back to lodgings.”
She thought it over. She didn’t think he’d say no, but his reactions could be unpredictable, especially if he’d had a bad day. “Break it to him gently,” she suggested. “Over a pint, in the pub. That you buy for him.”
Carmody bounced on his toes a little. “Good advice, Mrs Hall. Thank you.” He looked down at the dog. In love already, Audrey could see it in his eyes. “He’s a clever little thing. Look at this.” He crouched down and held out his hand. “Hamish, shake!”
Hamish tilted his head, thought for a moment and then put his paw firmly on Richard’s hand.
“Very clever,” Audrey agreed.
“I’m sure I can teach him more,” Carmody said eagerly. “I can’t wait to begin training him.” He turned on his heel then, about to leave, with Hamish at his feet, when Audrey called him back.
“Wait a moment,” she said. “Just what were you doing in my larder?”
“I – ah.” He glanced down at his feet. “Cheese?”
“Were you in such desperate need that you couldn’t wait till tea?”
“Not for me, for Hamish. To train him with.” He eyed her. “You don’t mind, do you?”
She laughed softly. “I don’t. But don’t let Mr Farnon find out, that’s all I can say.”
“Noted, Mrs Hall.” He gave her a salute and left, whistling.
She watched him go, then turned back to her pile of shirts with a smile. There was never a boring moment in Skeldale, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.
A Discovery of Witches commits that age old sin of being an allegory for queerness while sidelining its queer characters and centering an aggressively heterosexual couple.
I’m still crying over people who want to ship with my OCs please if you ever do tell me about it I will draw you honorary ship art and give you my BLESSING ya’ll are great
