CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
My heart beating wildly, I started half-walking, half-running along the pavement searching near and far for the little dog.
I scanned the village green but he was nowhere in sight, so I turned my attention to the high street. Had he run across the road? I couldn’t bear to think about that, with all the traffic that was zooming steadily by.
I crossed the road but was in an agony of indecision, not knowing which way to turn. Barley could have gone anywhere. Digging my hands in my hair, I looked frantically in all directions. This was a nightmare. The rescue centre had looked after Barley so well and they’d trusted me to carry on that care. But less than a week after I’d collected him, I’d managed to lose him!
I started to run with the lead, crossing the road again in the direction of our house by the green, hoping he’d somehow ended up there. But as I got nearer, my heart sank. Our gate was closed and there was no sign at all of Barley outside on the pavement.
I felt like screaming with frustration.
But I told myself to keep calm. He couldn’t have gone far. Knowing Barley, he’d be stopping every few seconds to sniff something interesting, so I’d easily be able to catch him up. If only I knew which way to go!
He must be on the high street. He liked people. That’s where he’d be. Maybe someone else walking a dog had attracted his attention. So I crossed back over the road, searching both ways.
Nothing.
And then it occurred to me. Had that clever little dog decided he hadn’t played enough for one day and managed to find his way back down to the river?
‘Barley, you are going to be in so much trouble when I find you,’ I muttered to myself as I tanked back along the pavement in the direction of the river, ignoring the alarmed faces of passers-by watching my panting progress along the high street.
I’d almost reached the end of the shops and was about to cross the road once more to take the path leading from the green down to the river, when I thought I heard a familiar bark.
Barley?
Stopping, I swung round in the direction of the green. But my hopeful heart sank to see that it wasn’t Barley at all. It was actually Ellie’s daughter, Maisie, playing with her Border Collie, Maisie-Moo, over by the café.
I’d crossed the road and started along the path to the river, when a series of doggie yelps drew my attention to the trees on the far side of the green. I couldn’t see him but it sounded like it might be Barley. Why was he making such a peculiar noise, though? Those repeated yelps?
A cold hand gripped my insides as I set off, running over the green. I’d heard about dog thieves. Who hadn’t? It was such a horrible crime and Barley was just the kind of cute little dog that these despicable people would target!
Just then, I glimpsed him and my heart lurched with fear.
A man was bending over him. He looked as if he was trying to pick Barley up, but the little dog was resisting, putting up a fight and trying to get away, yelping all the time.
‘Barley!’ I shouted at the top of my voice and to my relief, he looked in my direction. Even from this distance, I could see that he was panting.
Hoping I’d scare the man off, I started running over, shouting Barley’s name at the top of my voice.
‘I don’t know what you think you’re doing with that dog,’ I yelled, ‘but you’d better leave him alone unless you want me to call the police and get you locked up for dog theft!’
The man was crouched down now, in quite a defenceless position, and I was about to take a chance and barrel straight into him so I could wrestle Barley away, when – hearing my yelled threats – he suddenly turned, a look of surprise on his face.
I stopped dead in my tracks.
Jensen?