by Joe Friedman
* * *
The day had passed quickly, in a blur of sending Reggae off to get sheep, and working with her and Mr Sampson on keeping the sheep on the road. Now they were nearing the pens where the sheep would be held. Several dogs from the hill had joined Reggae to keep the large group of sheep together. Josh and Reggae had stayed at the back, to prevent stragglers. This was no easy task, as every few feet a ewe would find a patch of grass very interesting, or a group of lambs would head off up the hill to play with one another.
So far, the day had gone well. They’d managed to avoid any contact with Dunham and his dogs. Now, he was coming down from his position halfway up the hill. He passed close to Josh.
‘Your pet,’ he spoke quietly, so that only Josh could hear, ‘looks like she’s on her last legs. She’ll die of a heart attack before the day’s over’.
Reggae growled at Dunham, but he just strolled over to the front of the flock, where he started rolling a cigarette and speaking to a friend.
Josh watched as Reggae raced around, trying to keep the sheep moving forward. She had looked really tired earlier in the afternoon. Could Dunham be right?
Then he reminded himself that Borders had been bred to run all day. And Reggae’s tail was wagging constantly. Surely she wouldn’t be having a whale of a time if she were near death . . . He relaxed.
The area they were passing through was one they knew well, as it was on the way to the second valley where they’d trained. Patches of bramble alternated with sharp outcrops of rock.
Reggae barked once. She was staring up the hill, at the area Dunham had left. At first, Josh thought that Reggae was just excited at recognising a place she knew. But then he saw a slight movement in a patch of bramble. Dunham’s dogs had missed one of the sheep.
Josh shouted to attract Dunham’s attention. But he was too far away, and too involved in his conversation, to hear. Josh didn’t want to leave a single sheep behind. And besides, this was a chance for Reggae to shine.
‘Do you think you can get her? You’ll have to move fast because we don’t want to lose any of these.’
Reggae’s eyes were eager. ‘Away then.’ Reggae streaked up the hill.
The older man who was working near Josh, watched smiling as Reggae headed off. ‘She’s seen a rabbit, I bet. The young ones can’t contain themselves all day.’ He called his dog to take Reggae’s place at the back of the sheep. His Border was eight, old for this kind of work. ‘She’s done well. A real natural dog.’
Josh was sure he’d seen this man before – where was it? That’s right! He was in the charity shop talking to the owner when he was buying Reggae’s bed and bowl. He’d bought Reggae her first bone!
‘I don’t think it’s a rabbit.’
Then several things happened at once. Reggae flushed the sheep out of the bramble patch, and started moving her down the hill. The man talking to Dunham looked back and saw this. He said something to Dunham, who turned and then threw his cigarette to the ground, furious. He shouted at his dogs, who streaked off after Reggae and the ewe.
Then everything went into slow motion: One of Dunham’s dogs got between Reggae and the sheep. Reggae growled to warn him off. Dunham’s dog attempted to nip Reggae, but she dodged past him. The ewe, suddenly surrounded by three dogs, froze with fear. Everyone, it seemed was watching the drama on the hill.
‘That’ll do,’ Josh shouted. Reggae immediately retreated from the ewe, to give it space. But Dunham’s dogs, caught up in the excitement and their master’s anger, ran towards the ewe. One jumped up on her back, just like it had done to his uncle’s sheep in the secret valley. Terrified, the ewe started back up the hill. Then she disappeared from view.
It seemed everyone was shouting at once. Had Josh blown it? Just as he was on the verge of success? He didn’t have time to think. All the noise had disturbed the sheep on the road. Smaller groups started moving away. Josh called Reggae back, to help keep them together. She obeyed instantly. Reggae and the old man’s dog settled the sheep, while two other crofters and their dogs brought in the ewe that Reggae had found. Fortunately, she wasn’t injured.
But the arguments about what had happened on the hill continued until the sheep arrived at the pens. Josh kept silent, not wanting to make the situation worse. In any case, he suspected no one would listen to a twelve-year-old boy.
* * *
After all the sheep had been penned for the night, the vet called a meeting. Yvonne was standing with her dad, looking worried. Josh was pretty sure he hadn’t done anything wrong. But Dunham was well known and much feared. Who would speak up for him?
‘We all want to get home for dinner,’ Neill said. ‘But we need to sort out what happened on the Old Road.’
Dunham snarled, ‘The boy was out of order. His stupid little pet was working my patch. If that ewe had been hurt it would have been down to him.’ He addressed the vet. ‘You shouldn’t have let a boy work the Gathering. He shouldn’t be back tomorrow.’
Several of Dunham’s mates muttered agreement. Josh sensed that others disagreed, but were afraid to speak against Dunham. But if no one spoke soon, the vet might think it had been Josh’s fault!
After a brief silence, it was Mr Sampson who spoke up. ‘Mr Redlin is just plain wrong. Before he sent his dog off, Josh tried to get his attention – but he was too busy smoking and talking to his friend to notice.’
Josh was grateful Mr Sampson had said something. But he could see that his words didn’t carry much weight – he was just a teacher after all, not a crofter. Josh needed someone with more authority to speak for him. Otherwise, everything would be lost.
Dunham looked around at the assembled crofters with an intimidating look. Then he smiled. Everything was going his way. He was going to get his revenge on Josh.
Then the old man who had worked near Josh at the end entered the circle. ‘I was watching the boy and his dog all day,’ he said in his soft voice. ‘The young dog did a great job with the sheep. I was right there when she spotted the stray.’
Everyone seemed to be listening intently to the old man, as if he were some kind of VIP on the island. Josh was puzzled. If he was so important, how come Josh didn’t know about him?
‘As Mr Sampson said, the boy called to Dunham. But he wasn’t paying attention. It was only then the boy sent his dog off. He was right to do that. If he’d left the ewe out there, and it was infected with the parasite we’re going to treat, she could have reinfected the whole herd.
The old man turned to face Dunham.
‘People miss sheep on the hill all the time. That young dog had control of it. It’s no pet. You were wrong to make it personal. You almost hurt a good dog and a good ewe.’
Josh could see Dunham didn’t like being addressed like this. But he liked what the old man said next even less.
‘But maybe you can help me. That ewe your dogs brought in. It had an unusual wound on it, two bite marks near the bottom of the spinal cord.’
That’s a strange way to speak about a ewe’s rump, Josh thought, as he listened intently.
‘The boy’s dog never got near the ewe. But your dog . . .’ he didn’t finish the sentence. Then he went on, ‘I’ve noticed quite a few of the sheep we’ve brought in have similar wounds.’
A crofter Josh knew only vaguely spoke up. ‘Some of my sheep escaped onto the commons for a couple of days. Two of them had a wound like that.’
Everyone’s eyes turned on Dunham. Josh’s ‘offence’ had been totally forgotten.
Dunham looked hard at the crofter who’d just spoken, and then at the old man. ‘What kind of crazy rumour are you trying to start? There’s all kind of wild animals on the commons that could have done that . . . Nobody has ever seen my dogs hurt any sheep.’
As Josh watched Dunham, he saw his eyes widen slightly. Yes, Josh thought. Be afraid. Somebody has seen your dogs hurt some sheep. Me.
Dunham gave Josh a menacing look. Josh smiled.
Dunham’s fate was in his hands. F
or a moment, he enjoyed the sense of power. But it reminded him of what he’d felt when he’d shamed Kearney. And he’d promised himself he would never do anything like that again.
Besides, if he spoke now, everyone would want Dunham’s dogs put down. It wasn’t their fault they hadn’t been properly trained. And surely, after this, Dunham would have to make sure they never hurt another animal.
So Josh said nothing. The group fell quiet as people took in what had happened. He imagined they were making a mental note to inspect their own sheep for wounds on the rump.
The vet turned to Dunham. ‘The two people who had the best view disagree with you about Josh and his dog. The matter’s closed.’
He turned to the other crofters. ‘It’s been a good day. Go home and have dinner. And a well-earned dram.’
The crofters chuckled appreciatively.
‘I’ll see you all here at Romesdal at 8 o’clock tomorrow morning.’
The men headed back to their cars and jeeps, talking animatedly in small groups. Josh knelt down and rubbed Reggae’s tummy. Hamish, who’d witnessed the argument between Dunham and Josh at the beginning of the day, paused by them. ‘The two of you did well. Carried a man’s weight. See you tomorrow.’
‘Thank you,’ Josh said, suddenly full of feeling. He had hoped the men would be fair. And they had been. Except for Dunham and a couple of his gang. ‘Up, girl,’ he said and Reggae stood. She was shaking with fatigue. Josh suddenly realised he too was exhausted. Adrenalin had kept him going all day, but now it had run out. They had a five-mile walk in front of them.
‘You two look done in,’ Neill said. ‘Would you like a ride?’
Josh looked at him gratefully. ‘I hadn’t realised how much it would take out of her.’
‘And yourself, I suspect,’ Yvonne’s father replied. ‘I’m glad you had a chance to meet Dr James.’
Josh was puzzled. ‘Dr James?’ he asked.
‘The man who spoke up for you,’ Neill explained. ‘He was the island vet before I came.’
That’s why everyone had paid attention!
‘My van’s over there.’
Yvonne was standing by it. Reggae recognised her and raced over, her tail wagging. Josh followed.
He stuck out his hand, awkwardly. Yvonne looked skyward and rolled her eyes. Then she gave Josh a warm hug.
‘You did it!’
‘So far, so good,’ Josh said. He was aware the third day of the Gathering, up on the cliffs, was the most dangerous. And he still had Day Two to get through before that . . .
‘Let’s get home and fed,’ Neill hurried them along.
That sounded great to Josh. But his day wasn’t finished. He had a difficult conversation ahead of him. One which would decide Reggae’s future.
Chapter 29
The sun was still shining as Josh tied an exhausted Reggae to the fence outside his uncle’s house. There was no point in trying to keep her secret any more. Either Calum had already heard about her, or he would in a minute.
Josh paused outside the front door. He looked fondly at Reggae, then beyond her to the loch at the bottom of the hill. The tide was in. He examined the water. He knew he was just delaying the moment of reckoning. But maybe he’d see a dolphin – that would be good luck.
But even his sharp eyes couldn’t pick out a dolphin in the flat water. He sighed and turned towards the door. He couldn’t put it off any longer.
‘Wish me luck.’
He entered the house, stopping for a moment to remove his boots in the hallway. Then he went on to the kitchen.
Calum was bustling around, preparing dinner. Josh could see he’d made an effort. There were several pots on the cooker, and he could smell roast chicken in the oven. His favourite.
‘We have to talk,’ his uncle said, without taking his eyes off the roast potatoes he’d just removed from the Aga.
So he knew.
‘Do you mind if I have a wash first?’
Calum looked at him for the first time. Josh tried to read his face – he didn’t seem angry . . .
‘Of course not.’
Calum always washed off the day’s dirt and sweat before eating. But it wasn’t just that. Josh needed a moment by himself. All the tension and emotions that he’d kept in check had suddenly hit him. He and Reggae had accomplished so much. Surely, it couldn’t all go wrong now . . .
In the bathroom, Josh took off his T-shirt and cleaned himself with a flannel. He climbed up to the loft and found a fresh shirt. Then he returned to the kitchen.
Calum was serving out the food onto their plates. Josh suddenly realised he was starving. He knew Reggae must be hungry too, but this wasn’t the moment to ask to feed her. Not while her fate was still undecided.
As usual, they sat in silence. After their years of living together, Josh could usually read his uncle’s moods. He still couldn’t see any signs of anger. Rather, he would swear his uncle was upset. Really upset.
Josh stared at his plate. Up until this moment, he hadn’t really considered Calum, or how he’d feel when he discovered Josh had kept a dog secret from him. The only thing that had mattered to him was keeping Reggae.
For the first time, he imagined what it must have been like for Calum . . . to hear from someone else about how Josh had joined the Gathering with a sheepdog he knew nothing about. His uncle was a terrible liar, but to save face he would have pretended he’d known. But what must he have felt? Humiliated? Shamed? Betrayed?
His mind went back to the conversation with the vet. ‘Are you sure you want to do it this way?’ That must have been what he was trying to tell him. That he was just thinking about himself.
In spite of the appetising smells that filled the kitchen, and the plate of roast chicken in front of him, Josh suddenly wasn’t hungry.
He remembered his first meal here in this kitchen. It had been roast chicken too. And just like now, his uncle had been silent. It wasn’t at all what Josh was used to. Reggae music blaring out of his mother’s cassette player, her chatting away or inventing games to encourage him to eat his vegetables . . .
He was, he recalled, scared of this big, silent, serious man. He hadn’t understood why his uncle wasn’t talking to him. And he’d decided it must be because his uncle hated him. Hated being saddled with a skinny, sad, seven-year-old city boy.
Had he ever stopped being scared?
He was frightened when he brought his school reports home – though all his uncle ever did was to try to find something positive to say. He was anxious when he had to ask for new shoes, or a bigger jacket for his school uniform, even though his uncle never refused. And of course, hadn’t he hidden Reggae’s existence from Calum for so long because he was scared of what he’d do?
Josh glanced furtively at the other side of the table. Calum’s plate was almost as full as his own. He must be pushing food from side to side too . . .
Josh felt a sick feeling in his guts. He couldn’t remember his uncle ever losing his appetite.
He’d made this gentle man an enemy, and for what? For being used to eating alone? For not being able to buy him everything he wanted? Or for not being as warm and funny as his mother?
‘Someone who does a man’s work needs to eat like a man,’ Calum said softly.
Even after all this, his uncle’s voice was gentle. He looked, really looked, at his uncle. His head was bowed, as if he’d been crushed by a heavy weight.
He’d done this – by not trusting Calum to be fair. Without thinking, Josh jumped up from his seat, and ran over to the other side of the table. And for the very first time, he hugged Calum. He blinked back tears.
‘I’m so sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just wasn’t thinking . . . of you. Just about keeping my dog, Reggae.’
‘There, there,’ Calum said, patting Josh on the back awkwardly. ‘You did what you thought best.’ His voice was thick with emotion.
After a bit, Josh sat down and stared at his food, his heart still heavy.
‘I’m sure she is.’
He climbed up to his room and found Reggae’s bowl and the secret cache of dog food. When he came down, his uncle was standing.
‘Let’s see her, then.’
They went out together. Reggae was fast asleep. But as they got nearer, the smell of food woke her. Her tail started to wag. Josh filled the plate and put it down in front of her. Reggae waited. ‘Go,’ Josh said. He saw his uncle smile slightly. Then his uncle knelt down and tickled Reggae under the ear as she ate.
‘Small, isn’t she?’
‘I think she was the runt of the litter. I found her by one of the rivers on the commons.’
They watched Reggae finish the tin of food.
‘You rescued her,’ Calum said, getting the picture. ‘And you knew how I felt about pets.’ There was a deep sadness to his voice. As if he felt misunderstood. And hurt.
‘I should have asked,’ Josh said. ‘I should have asked properly.’
His uncle blinked as he ran his finger down the bony bit between Reggae’s eyes. She closed them, enjoying the attention. After a bit, Calum nodded slightly, almost to himself. ‘I hear “Reggae”,’ he said the name a bit less hesitantly, ‘did really well today.’
The words just rushed out of Josh. ‘She did everything I asked. Even things we’d hardly had a chance to practice, like gathering a singleton. We were on the Old Road and she drove the sheep and kept them together like nobody’s business.’
‘She must have had a good trainer.’
‘It wasn’t me,’ Josh protested. ‘She’s just a natural dog.’
‘Even natural dogs need good trainers,’ Calum persisted. ‘How did you learn?’
‘There’s lots of videos on YouTube. And lots of advice on the web and in forums. And the library had two books too.’