Page 43 of The Day After Christmas
‘He’s so cute.’
James looked up at her. ‘What is he doing here?’
‘And why was he making that awful noise? He sounded so upset.’
‘It’s a heart-breaking sound,’ said James, ‘but actually they tend to be mostly silent when they are distressed. They have great hearing, though, as you can tell by the ears. He probably heard us wandering about.’
‘What a clever boy,’ said Felicity, reaching out a hand and giving the donkey’s soft head a rub.
‘Poor chap,’ said James. ‘He really shouldn’t be on his own like this.’
Felicity turned and looked out of the door as if the answer would be in the garden. But all she could see was the wide lawn stretching across to the neighbour’s fence and… oh yes, there they were. Clear donkey tracks, meandering left and right across the space. The grass was so churned up in places it was impossible to tell where they started.
‘He must have come from somewhere. Let’s go ask the neighbours.’
They left the little donkey mooching around the kitchen, both feeling rather guilty as they closed the door on him, and went up and down the street, knocking on doors, but no one knew anything about a little brown donkey. It was as if he’d appeared out of mid-air.
‘Reminds me of our first animal rescue,’ said Felicity as they left the last house in the road.
‘When was that?’ said James.
‘Ha. Very funny.’
‘Sorry, couldn’t resist.’
Felicity smiled to herself. She still remembered the first time she looked into those blue eyes of his, penguin hood hiding his blond hair from view. Despite her concern for their new furry friend, a little thrill of excitement ran through her body at the memory.
As they walked back up the gravel drive, James looked over at her as if he could read her mind.
‘Not the time, Brooks. We have a donkey to save.’
The intensity in his voice just made the little thrill even more thrilling.
‘Right you are. What do we do next then?’
‘You’re the animal saviour.’
‘I know but you’re the donkey expert.’
‘Not really. I know they like their ears scratched and I know where you find the donkey button but…’
‘I’m sorry. The what now?’
‘The donkey button. Touch a donkey gently on its forehead and its ears will go back. Didn’t you know that?’
‘Why would anyone know that?’
James waved a hand. ‘It’s a thing, trust me. Anyway, I know that but I don’t know what you’re meant to do if you find a random donkey on a mini-break.’
‘What kind of secret agent are you anyway?’
‘No kind,’ said James, laughing. ‘We’ve been through this about a zillion times. I work for GCHQ not MI5.’
‘I know you say that, but I’m still not convinced.’
‘Whatever.’
They opened the back door into the kitchen and there was the little donkey, staring at them expectantly, as if he knew they’d be back.
