Gran Alice! shouted Matthew. Who gave you permission to keep a wolf in the village?
Today was one of those days that make me question everything. I stood by the splintered remains of my fence, tears welling up despite myself. Id propped it up so many times beforeold planks, rotten postsI always hoped the patchwork would last until Id saved enough pounds from my meagre pension. But luck was not on my side; down it went with a crash.
Its been ten years now since Ive managed the cottage alone, ever since my dear George passed on. He had such clever hands. While he was alive, nothing worried me. He could fix anything, carpenter and joiner rolled into one. We never needed tradesmeneverything got done with care and pride. The whole village respected him for being so kind and hard-working. Wed spent forty happy years together, only missing our ruby anniversary by a single day. Our neat home, bountiful allotment, and well-kept animals were all the fruits of our shared labour.
We had only one sonEdward, our pride and joy. Raised to be helpful, he never needed asking. If I got home late and tired from the farm, hed already stacked the logs, fetched water, lit the fire, and tended the animals.
George, back from work, would wash up and sit on the porch with his pipe, puffing away while I whipped up supper. We always ate together in the evenings, sharing what little news we had. We were happy.
But time, as ever, marched on. Edward grew up, left Norfolk for London, studied hard, and married city girl Lucy. They settled down in the capital. At first hed visit us for his holidays, but then Lucy convinced him to travel abroad instead, and they did so every year. George used to grumble at Edwards choices, unable to understand.
Hows our Edward so worn out? That Lucys got him chasing dreams. What does he want with all those holidays?
Those years the house felt emptier. George missed him, I longed for any scrap of news. Then George fell ill. He grew weaker, wouldnt eat, though the doctors gave pills, eventually sending him home to spend his last days with me. One spring, while the warblers sang and the hedgerows were full of life, George took his last breath.
Edward came home for the funeral, crying bitterly and blaming himself for not making it in time. He stayed a week, then went back to London. Over the past ten years, hes only written three letters. I sold the cow and sheep to neighbours.
What use are they now? My gentle Jersey lingered at the gate, listening to me sob in the kitchen. Id hide in the back room, cover my ears, and weep.
The place fell apart without George. The roof leaked, the porch boards snapped, water seeped into the pantry I did all I could. I put aside every spare penny for a tradesman, but often had to muddle through myselfvillage women know how to cope.
So I lived, counting every pound, just keeping afloat. Then came another blow. My eyesight rapidly worsened, though Id never struggled before. I went to the shop, squinted at the prices, and within months, I couldnt read the sign above the door.
The district nurse came, peered at me, and insisted I get checked at the hospital.
Mrs. Alice, do you want to go blind? With a quick operation, we can fix your sight!
But the thought of surgery frightened me, so I refused. Within a year, my vision was nearly gone. Yet it didnt worry me too much.
What do I need it for? I dont watch telly, only listen. The newsreader says enough for me to understand. At home, I do everything by memory.
But sometimes Id worry. The village wasnt as decent as it used to be. Thieves were coming more often, breaking into empty cottages, stealing what they could find. I fretted that I didnt have a good dogone that could keep intruders away with a fearsome bark and fierce eyes.
I asked Simon, the local gamekeeper:
Know if the wardens got any puppies? Id take even the scrappiest one. Ill raise it myself
Simon, always nosy, gave me a look.
Gran Alice, what do you want a husky pup for? Thats a dog for the woods. I could get you a proper pedigree Alsatian from the city instead.
An Alsatian must cost a fortune
Not more than a good cause, Gran.
Well, bring one then.
I counted my savings, figured I had enough for a decent dog. But Simon is unreliable, always postponing his promises. I scolded him for it, but deep down I pitied him. Hes a lonely soulno family, no children. His only companion is a strong ale.
Simon, as old as Edward, never left Norfolk and couldnt stand city life. Hunting was his passionhed disappear into the woods for days.
After the season, he worked odd jobs: dug gardens, did carpentry, fixed machinery. The coins he earned from elderly widows hed spend at the pub straight away.
After a heavy drinking spell, hed drag himself into the forestswollen, sick, guilty. Then hed reappear with baskets of mushrooms, berries, fresh trout, and pinecones, selling them dirt cheap, only to squander the lot. He helped me with chores for cash, and now, with my fence down, I had to call on him again.
Looks like Ill have to wait for the dog, I sighed. I need to pay Simon for the fence, and moneys tight.
Next day Simon arrived, not empty-handed. His rucksack shifted and wriggled. Smiling, he called me over.
See, Ive brought you someone. He opened the bag.
I shuffled over and felt a furry, tiny head.
Is it really a puppy, Simon? I gasped.
Best of the best. A proper thoroughbred, Gran.
The pup wriggled out, eager for freedom. Panic filled me.
But Simon, Ive only got enough for the fence!
Not taking him back, Gran Alice! Do you know how many thousands I paid for this dog?
I dashed to the shop, where the clerk gave me five bottles of strong ale on tab, jotting my name down in her ledger.
By evening, Simon had the fence sorted. I fed him a hearty meal, poured him a glass, and he started lecturing, jolly from his favourite drink, pointing at the puppy curled up near the stove.
Feed him twice a day. Buy a sturdy chainhell be strong and healthy. I know about dogs.
And so, the cottage gained a new residentRex. I adored the little lad, and he returned my love tenfold. Every time I went out to feed him, Rex would leap about, licking my face. But one thing worried me: he grew enormous, the size of a calf, yet never learned to bark. That frustrated me.
Oh, Simon! Oh, you rogue! Sold me a useless dog.
But how could I turn out such a gentle creature? He had no need to bark. The neighbours dogs wouldnt dare challenge Rex, who, within three months, was as tall as my waist.
One day, Matthew, another local hunter, came through to buy groceries, salt, and matches for the approaching hunting season, when men vanish into the woods for months. Passing my gate, he froze, spotting Rex.
Gran Alice! he shouted. Who gave you permission to keep a wolf in the village?
I clutched my chest in fright.
Oh, heavens! How silly I am! That rogue Simon tricked me! Said this was a thoroughbred
Matthew advised me solemnly:
Gran, you need to set him loose in the woods. He could cause real trouble otherwise.
My eyes filled with tears. How hard it was to let Rex go! Such a gentle, loving beast, if indeed a wolf. But hed grown restless, straining his chain, longing for freedom. The villagers eyed him warily. I had no choice.
Matthew took him deep into the woods. Rex wagged his tail and melted away between the trees. We never saw him again.
I missed my companion and cursed Simons devious ways. Little did I know, Simon regretted it toohis intentions had been good. Once, wandering the forest, hed found bear tracks and heard a plaintive whimper nearby. At first, he hesitatedwhere there are cubs, a bear isnt far off. But the noise wasnt bear-like.
Pushing through the brambles, Simon discovered a den. A dead she-wolf lay nearby, her pups slainpresumably by a bear. Only one little one survived, hidden in a hole.
Simon felt sorry for the orphan and took it home, eventually foisting it on me so Id care for it. He figured the wolf would run off eventually, and hed find me a proper dog. But Matthew had upset the plan.
A few days later, Simon hovered near my gate, not daring to knock. Winter raged outside. I kept the fire stoked all night against the cold.
Suddenly, a knock at the door. I hurried to open it. A man stood on the step.
Good evening, Gran. May I stay the night? I was heading for the next village, but lost my way.
Whats your name, dear? My eyesights not what it was.
Boris.
I frowned.
Dont recall any Borises living here
Ive not lived here, Gran. Only just bought a cottage. Meant to look at it today, but the car got stuck. Had to make my way on foot in this blizzard!
So you bought old Daniels house?
He nodded.
Thats right.
I welcomed the stranger in and put the kettle on, not noticing how his eyes darted round my faded dresser, where country folk stash cash and trinkets.
As I fussed by the stove, I heard him rummaging through the drawers.
What are you doing, Boris?
Oh, just helping you clear out old notes! There was a currency reform, you know.
My brow knitted.
Lies. Theres been no such reform! Who are you?
In a flash, he pulled out a knife, pressing it under my chin.
Quiet, old girl. Out with the money, the jewellery, the food!
My heart thudded with fear. Here was a criminal, wanted by the police. My fate, now sealed
Just then, the door burst open. In stormed a monstrous wolf, leaping at the thief. He screamed, but his thick scarf protected him from the wolfs jaws. He slashed at Rex with his knife, wounding him in the shoulder. Rex jumped away, giving the thief a chance to flee.
At that moment, Simon was approaching, intent on apologising. Outside, he saw a man tear off with a knife, muttering curses. Simon rushed in, finding me with poor, bleeding Rex on the floor. He understood everything at once and dashed off to find the constable.
The thief was arrested and sentenced to more years behind bars.
Rex became the village hero. People brought him food and greeted him every time they passed. He was never chained again and roamed where he pleased but always came back to me, sometimes arriving with Simon after a hunting trip.
One day, a black Range Rover parked outside my cottage. Someone was chopping wood in the yardit was Edward. Seeing old Simon, he opened his arms wide for a hug.
That evening, we all sat round the table, and I felt such joy. Edward convinced me to go to London for the operation to restore my sight.
Well, if it must be done I sighed. The grandchilds coming in summer, and I want to see him. Simon, mind the cottage and Rex, will you?
Simon nodded. Rex found his place by the stove, content with his head on his paws. This was where he belonged, nestled among friends.
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