They were interrupted by Charlie, who appeared at that moment from somewhere in the crowd.
‘I got dog biscuits,’ he panted, patting his pockets. ‘These ought to get him.’ He took one out, stuck his arm under the fence and waved it tantalisingly at the little dog. ‘Here, Ace! You’d like this, wouldn’t you? Come on, boy, come and get it.’
The dog stopped when he caught a whiff of the food. He looked torn for a moment, unsure whether he’d rather have a dog biscuit or an enclosure full of sheep to play with, but eventually, he deigned to edge closer to Charlie’s hand so he could give the biscuit a sniff. As soon as he was within grabbing distance, Charlie seized Ace’s scruff and pulled the dog towards him under the fence.
‘Quick, Jessie,’ he said. ‘Put his lead on him before he dashes off again.’
Jessie clambered down from her perch on the fence to slip the rope lead around Ace’s neck, then cuddled him to her.
‘You are naughty, Ace,’ she chastised him, wagging a finger. ‘If you’re to be my dog, you mustn’t run off like that and you must always come back when I call you.’
‘He’s my dog too,’ Florence said. ‘May I give him his biscuit please, Uncle Charlie? He did come back to you to get it.’
‘All right, here you are,’ Charlie said, handing her the biscuit. He frowned sternly at the dog. ‘Not that he deserves it, the little… blighter.’
The crowd had dispersed now the entertainment was over, seeking new thrills elsewhere on the field. A very muddy, very angry farmer left the sheep enclosure and strode over to the little group.
‘By rights I ought to call t’ coppers on thee, young man,’ he told Charlie, jabbing a finger towards him. ‘That’s an offence, that is. Out-of-control dogs worrying my sheep.’
‘He’s just keen, that’s all,’ Charlie said in conciliatory tones. ‘He’s only a little sheepdog. There’s a lot he still needs to learn.’
‘Tha’s lucky he weren’t shot,’ said the farmer, folding his arms across his chest. ‘What did tha think tha were playing at, letting a young ’un like that off his lead wi’ all these beasts about?’
‘We didn’t let him off, Mister Farmer,’ Jessie said. ‘He slipped out of his lead. We’ll be careful from now on, promise.’
‘Huh. “From now on” don’t help my distressed tup, does it, little miss? Judges are on their way round and t’ poor owd lad shaking like a leaf thanks to this here pup o’ thine.’
The beefy tup didn’t look particularly distressed to Bobby. As he pawed the ground, he resembled a bull more than a sheep – one getting ready to charge. However, Charlie nodded in sympathy with the farmer.
‘You’re right. We should have kept better watch over the pup,’ he said soothingly. ‘You have my unreserved apology, and I’ll be happy to compensate you if necessary.’
It was hard to resist Charlie when he made the effort to charm. The farmer’s scowl softened slightly, and he glanced at the two girls making a fuss over their puppy.
‘Aye, well. Happen there’ll be no need for that,’ he said. ‘Londoners, are they?’
Charlie nodded. ‘Evacuees. They were bombed out of their home.’
‘I’m right sorry to hear it.’ He turned to the girls. ‘Take care o’ that there whelp of thine, eh? Instincts are all right, any road. It’s just discipline he needs. He’s t’ makings of a little champion if ye two put time into his training.’
Jessie beamed at him. ‘We will.’
‘You’ll let me buy you a drink later to say sorry on Ace’s behalf, I hope,’ Charlie said, putting out his hand to the farmer. The man looked at it for a moment before giving it a shake.
‘Aye, I’ll be around t’ beer tent after auction’s done. Mind how you go, young man.’
‘And lo, peace was restored,’ Charlie said when the farmer had gone, smiling at Bobby and Lilian. ‘I ought to have been a politician, don’t you think, ladies?’
‘Lil, can you stay with the girls a moment?’ Bobby said. ‘I need a private word with Charlie.’
Lilian nodded, and Bobby put a hand on Charlie’s elbow to guide him out of earshot of the children.
‘Where on earth did the dog come from, Charlie?’ she asked in a low voice.
‘Ah. Yes. I thought you might ask about that.’ He looked guilty. ‘Well, when we arrived, the girls wanted to watch the sheepdog trials on the show field.’
‘And they enjoyed them so much that they kidnapped one?’
‘Not quite,’ he said. ‘They loved watching, Bobby. Some of the dogs had been trained and handled by kids. You remember Maid, that bitch of young Tess Armitage’s we tended to on New Year’s Eve? Tess was here with her. She took a red rosette. Grand little sheepdog she’s turned out to be.’
