Page 84 of The Knitting Club at Wagtail Ridge

‘Spit?’ Margaret sounded horrified.

‘Don’t try to pat them. And don’t walk up to them in the paddock. They like their personal space.’A bit like me, Bree didn’t add. ‘They may get curious and come up to you, but we don’t try to touch them unless they have halters on. If they walk up to check you out, let them. You can talk to them if you want to. They like that.’ Bree opened the paddock gate to let her parents in.

‘But I thought you did walks with them,’ Gary said. ‘How do you do that if you can’t handle them?’

Her father had done his research. Or maybe Rose had talked about the walks. Whichever it was, Bree felt a little glow of pleasure that he cared enough to ask.

‘When we go for walks, they have halters on. It’s sort of the difference between working and time off. In the paddock, they’re not on duty, so we let them decide how things are to go.’

The three of them walked a few metres into the paddock and stopped. The alpacas had noticed them and a couple were ambling over to check them out.

‘Oh. The babies!’

Margaret’s exclamation caught Bree by surprise. Her mother sounded interested. Maybe even excited.

‘They’re called crias, Mother. The birthing season has started.

That white one looking at you, she’s the oldest. Three weeks.’

‘How cute.’

Cute? That was a word Bree didn’t think she had ever heard from her mother.

One of the alpacas approached Gary. It stretched out its neck and sniffed his arm. Gary froze, his face showing such a degree of uncertainty, Bree had to bite back a laugh. The day was not going how she expected it to.

The surprises continued after the tour, when Gary announced they should all go out for dinner.

‘I was going to suggest the same,’ Bree said with a sigh of relief. ‘I wasn’t prepared for five for dinner.’

‘Five?’ Gary frowned. ‘But we are only four.’

Bree glanced at her grandmother, but Rose was showing no inclination to explain.

‘The best place to go is the pub,’ Bree went on. ‘It’s the only place in town, and it’s a bit far to drive to Scone.’

‘I know. We’ve booked a room there for the night.’

Her father’s words shocked Bree. Her parents were generally first class all the way—they considered a four-star hotel to be a bit downmarket. She cast a quick glance at Rose, who winked. It would seem her grandmother had her own plans for this visit.

An hour later, Bree left Maggie finishing up for the night as she and Rose drove into town, following the Mercedes.

‘Do they know about Mike?’

Her grandmother shook her head. ‘Not yet. But they will before the night is out.’

‘Shouldn’t you warn them?’

‘I thought about it, but decided I wanted to see Margaret’s face when she figures it out.’

‘Nan!’

‘I did warn Mike, though.’

‘How does he feel about it?’

‘He’s looking forward to meeting my daughter.’

‘You did mention that she’s not the slightest bit like you? Or me, for that matter.’

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