Page 163 of The Cottage at Brambleton Hall

A splash sounded somewhere across the water. Sammy froze. A moorhen, probably.

The beam trembled in her hand.

‘Stop It?’

Silence.

Then a sound. Not the splash of a bird. A whimper? She held her breath. There it was again. To her right, somewhere in the reeds. ‘Stop It?’

A sharp yap answered.

Relief hit so hard her knees nearly gave way. ‘Good boy! Good bully boy!’

She picked her way along the bank towards the sound, sliding in the mud and catching herself on an overhanging branch.

The torch beam found him at last. Half-hidden amongst reeds at the edge of the lake. The lower third of his legs had disappeared into a patch of black mud. His ears flattened when he saw her.

‘Oh, my love.’

His tail wagged once.

‘Don’t worry.’ She was already scrambling down the bank. ‘We’ll get you out of there.’

She dialled Magnus. He answered on the first ring. ‘Miss Jenkins?’

‘I’ve found him.’ Relief made her laugh. ‘The silly sausage has managed to get himself stuck in the mud by the lake.’

‘Thank God.’

‘I’ll get him out.’

‘No, wait . . .’

But she’d already put the phone on the bank, the torch beam spotlighting the dog.

‘Good bully boy,’ she called.

Stop It whimpered.

Sammy tucked her skirt into her knickers and stepped into the mud. Cold water flooded her shoes. Mud swallowed her feet to the ankles. She dragged a foot out of the goo and took another step. The bank gave way beneath her. She windmilled her arms, nearly falling face-first into the reeds.

Stop It’s whines grew louder.

‘I know. I’m coming.’

By the time she reached him, the mud was above her calves. She grabbed his collar and pulled. Nothing happened.

Stop It tipped his egg-shaped face up at her, black eyes shining in the torchlight, and emitted a sound halfway between a sigh and a complaint.

‘Don’t you dare make me laugh.’

She tensed her leg muscles and heaved again. Pain shot through her shoulders.

The mud held fast. Then came a wet sucking sound and one paw lurched free.

‘Good boy!’

She pulled again. He shook his freed paw, and mud sprayed across her blouse, onto her face, and into her mouth. She swiped at her cheek with the back of a hand, spat out the mud.