Doctor Who_ Cats Cradle_ Witch Mark - Andrew Hunt [15]
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Now, however, he wondered if the advert was as crazy as it had seemed. He got out of his car and went through the surgery’s back door.
'Hello, Liz,' he greeted his receptionist, ‘any calls?’
'Nothing at the moment, Stuart, she replied, smiling at him. ‘How did the foaling go?’
'Oh, the foal was just badly presented. Simple enough, really’ He shrugged. He went into his office and picked up the phone. He dropped the folded magazine on the desk and held the receiver under his chin whilst he dialled the number. The phone rang a couple of times and then he heard a recorded message
'Inspector Stevens is not in at the moment. If you would like to leave a message, please speak after the tone.’
'Inspector,' Stuart thought, ‘a police officer.’ Until that moment he hadn’t been sure what he was going to say, but as it was the police and not some weirdo, he began at the beginning and told the whole story.
Hugh stepped into his wellies outside the back door, slipped the can from the sill of the kitchen window into his pocket and set off between the rows of vegetables up to the gate into his field. When he reached it he paused and examined he sheep. There was no doubt about which one he wanted – all but one of the flock were up at the top of the field. The solitary one sat in a corner by itself, its black and white face pointing in his direction.
He pushed open the gate and immediately the sheep rose unsteadily to its feet. Hugh went to the other corner of the field where a small barn stood, and opened the door. He circled widely round the sheep and waved his arms until it set off moving. Because he had brought it in every day for the last three days, it helpfully made straight for the barn. For a moment it seemed to be dithering between going in or making a break up the hill, but it finally decided to go right in. Hugh pulled the door shut behind him and turned on the bare light bulb. The sheep cowered in a corner and Hugh easily flipped it on to its back and clasped its sides between his knees.
He looked down at the matted mess on its underbelly. It seemed a little better than the day before so he gave it a light tug. Immediately a small amount of bleeding broke out and he decided to leave it. The mass of hair and skin surrounding it looked free of maggots, so Hugh took out the can of antiseptic and gave the area a quick spray. He pushed the sheep back on to its feet and then opened the door to let it out into the field. He flicked off the light and followed the sheep out.
He stood on the hillside and gazed along the valley. The opposite slope was steep and tree-covered, except for where even the soil couldn't cling to the near-vertical rock. To the east lay the houses of Llanfer Ceiriog and to the west the valley twisted round and was filled with low, thick clouds. There were two tiny figures on the road up from the village, but they were too far away to identify.
He closed the shed, went out through the gate and went down to the house. Kicking off his boots he shouted through the kitchen door, 'That young ram still isn't much better.'
'What's that, love?' His wife, Janet, appeared in the doorway, holding two mugs of tea. 'There's just been something on the radio about a wild dog on the loose.'
'Not another giant black panther?'
She laughed. 'No, that's in Derbyshire. They say it's an Alsatian, or a Rottweiler, or some big dog anyway. I just thought you ought to know.'
'Thanks. I suppose I'd better put the sheep inside tonight.'
‘And