Chapter 3
Hannah let out a little snuffling sigh and wriggled, stretching her arms in front of her without opening her eyes. She was warm, content, and… happy? She’d been having the most amazing dream full of beautiful flowers and gardens and sheep.
Sheep?! Wait, that wasn’t right!
Surfacing a little further from her dream, Hannah frowned as she blinked awake, only to spot a pair of eyes in a wide, woolly face staring right at her. She shook her head, wondering if she was hallucinating.
Maybe she was coming down with something?!
Hannah blinked again. The sheep blinked back. There was something slightly unnerving about its steady stare.
‘Who are you?’ she muttered.
Blink.
‘Stop looking at me like that,’ she huffed. ‘This is my garden, you know!’
The sheep blinked again, then—just to prove that it was real and not a figment of her imagination—it let out a loud and rather definitive BAAAA!!
‘Shh!’ she hissed, struggling to sit more upright in the deckchair and praying she wouldn’t get eaten in the process… by the chair or the sheep!
‘BERNARD?!’
The yell made Hannah jump, and the deckchair gave an ominous creak beneath her. She hastily struggled out of its depths, scrambling to her feet just as the thing collapsed in a pile of wood and canvas.
The sudden movement made the sheep take several steps backwards. It shook its head in apparent disgust. Hannah eyeballed it, wondering whether it was gearing up to headbutt her or something.
‘Bernard?! Where are you, you woolly sod?!’
The voice was deep and male and sounded like it was coming from somewhere right behind her. Hannah turned this way and that, but she couldn’t see anyone. She frowned and shook her head. Maybe she really was still dreaming.
Just as Hannah was contemplating dashing back indoors to hunt for a thermometer to check for a fever, a large, booted foot appeared on her side of the boundary hedge, kicking its way through a gap in the undergrowth.
It was promptly followed by a pair of scruffy jeans… and then, an equally scruffy man.
Hannah watched in pure confusion as the intruder struggled to free himself from various bits of tangled bush before turning in her direction.
‘There you are!’
Hannah raised her eyebrows. She wasn’t sure if the man was talking to the sheep… or to her!
‘Oh,’ he said, clearly spotting her for the first time. ‘Hi.’
‘Hello,’ she muttered, crossing her arms tightly.
Mr Eaves. Of course it was him. Who else would be cheeky enough to climb through a gap in the hedge and disturb the best nap of her life?!
‘I’m really sorry,’ he said, running a distracted hand through his hair and then pausing to remove a stray leaf. Picking it out, he stared at it in wonder, as if he couldn’t quite work out how it had got there. Then he let go, and they both watched as it fluttered down onto the grass.
‘You were saying?’ said Hannah, doing her best to swallow down an inexplicable urge to laugh.
‘Just… sorry… about him,’ he said, nodding at the sheep, which was standing as bold as brass between them on the lawn. ‘I reckon Bernard might be part goat. Turns out he’s a bit of an escapologist.’
Hannah glanced at the sheep. It stared back at her before turning to Mr Eaves.
‘BAAA!’
‘Right,’ Mr Eaves nodded. ‘Yes… let me just get him back next door.’ He raised his arms in the air and waved them around vaguely.
Hannah bit her lip, doing her best not to giggle… something that got even harder when Bernard shot a look at her. She could swear he raised a disdainful eyebrow before scuttling off in the opposite direction.
Several minutes later, Hannah’s face was aching with the effort of stopping herself from laughing. It was like there was a dam waiting to burst as she watched Bernard leading Mr Eaves on a merry chase up and down the neat garden paths.
‘Come on, boy,’ puffed Mr Eaves, still hot on Bernard’s hocks. ‘Just… get… back…’
Unfortunately, Bernard didn’t seem to be in the mood to just get back anywhere, and promptly took a little detour right into the middle of the nearest flowerbed.
‘Erm… I’m really sorry to have to ask…’ Mr Eaves turned to Hannah. He was looking decidedly pink in the face, though she wasn’t sure if it was from all the sheep wrangling or simply from the embarrassment of having to do it with an audience. ‘Do you think you could help?’
Hannah stared at him for several long seconds, surreptitiously pinching her leg.
‘No… you’re not dreaming,’ he said, clearly catching her in the act. ‘There really is a giant sheep stuffing its face with your flowers right now.’
Hannah raised an eyebrow. She knew she should be affronted by this man’s audacity. Hell, last time she’d seen him, she’d yelled at him for an awful lot less. Right now, though, she was too busy trying not to giggle to even think about yelling.
Taking pity on her rather pink-faced neighbour, Hannah gave Mr Eaves a little nod. Without a word, she began to sidestep her way around the flower bed, not taking her eyes off Bernard, who was now happily munching on a clump of marigolds.
‘Don’t even think it!’ she muttered as he paused to glare at her. Two seconds later, he darted sideways, making a desperate bid for freedom. ‘Oh no you don’t!’
Hannah lunged in front of the galumphing sheep, then let out a cheer of triumph as she managed to head the woolly blighter off at the pass.
‘You’re a natural!’ puffed Mr Eaves. He’d just hurtled forwards and had managed to get his hands on Bernard’s behind.
‘Gee… thanks!’ tutted Hannah, not sure if it was the kind of compliment she needed right now.
Keeping her arms open wide—just in case Bernard made another break for it—Hannah watched as her oddball neighbour forcibly steered the troublemaker back towards the gap in the hedge.
Two seconds later, the pair of them disappeared from view. Hannah dropped her arms, suddenly feeling daft.
Silence.
She put her hands on her hips and glared at the hedge.
Nothing. Well… of all the cheek. Not even so much as a thank you or goodbye?!
Hannah stood there for several long seconds, her chest heaving as she fought to get her breath back. That had been… weird… and far more fun than it should have been!
Wrapping her arms around herself, Hannah turned away from the hedge. She felt oddly disappointed that the bizarre little adventure had come to such an abrupt end. She was just about to skulk back inside the house when a faint voice drifted over from the other side of the hedge.
‘Thank you!’
‘No worries,’ she called back, unable to keep a smile from spreading across her face. ‘Hey—can I ask you something?’
‘Sure.’
‘My electricity seems to be off.’ She paused, feeling a bit daft. ‘Any ideas?’
‘Try the trip switch,’ he said. ‘If your place is anything like mine, there’s a second one that’s separate from the main fuse box. Mine’s in a little nook above the airing cupboard in the kitchen.’
‘Oh. Great, thanks.’
‘No probs. By the way, that bread’s fresh. I picked it up for you this morning. And I hope you don’t mind about me looking after your gardens while you were away.’
‘That was you?’ said Hannah.
Silence.
‘Hello?’
No answer. Mr Eaves was clearly gone… probably to deal with Bernard.
Disappointment hit her again, only now it was mixed with a good dollop of confusion.
Mr Eaves had been the one looking after her gardens?
And he’d delivered that box of goodies? She really should have guessed—after all, the jar of honey was a dead giveaway.
The real question was, why had he done those lovely things for her?
‘No,’ Hannah muttered under her breath. ‘The real question is, how did he know I’d be back today?’
Pausing for a second at the collapsed deckchair, Hannah cocked her head. Part of her was tempted to set it up again and resume her nap.
No. Maybe not.
The time for lounging around in the garden had definitely passed. He might have been friendly enough, but knowing that Mr Eaves was just over the hedge had rather put her off the whole idea of snoozing in the sunshine.