Free Fear in the Cotswolds by Rebecca Tope

and the dog. Janina laughed quietly. ‘His mother says he should not be so friendly with dogs, but he has a special feeling for them.’
    ‘It’s OK,’ Thea assured her. ‘She won’t hurt him.’
    ‘I know that. In Bulgaria sometimes they have rabies, but here the dogs are harmless.’
    ‘This one is, anyway,’ said Thea, thinking of bull terriers trained to attack by their inadequate masters, and then to the depressing conversation she had had with Lucy about the endless betrayals of dogs.
    They seemed to have reached a hiatus, and Thea found herself hoping the others wouldn’t abandon her for a few more minutes. ‘I can’t get my car out,’ she told them again. ‘It’ll have to wait until the snow melts, I suppose.’
    ‘Have you got food?’ Janina asked with belated concern. ‘You could walk to Northleach, perhaps.’ She grimaced doubtfully at the prospect.
    ‘Oh, I’ll be fine. There’s plenty of food.’
    She was increasingly desperate to tell the story of the dead man in the snow, the disappearing body and her consequent embarrassment – but she couldn’t broach such a subject in front of children. The prospect of returning to Lucy’s Barn and its disconcerting mysteries was less and less attractive as the minutes passed.
    ‘What time is it? The party, I mean.’
    ‘Two o’clock,’ Janina told her.
    ‘There must be a lot to do. How many are coming?’
    ‘Seven or eight. It’s all done. We had a lot of extra time to prepare.’ Janina rolled her eyes expressively, and Thea glimpsed the long snowy days spent trying to keep two young boys amused and reassured in the absence of their mother.
    ‘You can come if you like,’ said Nicky, and Thea almost hugged him.
    ‘Oh! Are you sure? What about my dog?’
    ‘Both of you,’ said the child. His big brown eyes met hers and she wished she could read the thoughts behind them. At four, she wasn’t sure a birthday fully registered, apart from the presents and the fuss. What did ‘being born’ mean to somebody his age, especially if there had been no more babies after him? This anniversary of his birth must seem arbitrary and inexplicable – but still this little boy was rising to the occasion,and asserting his claim to be special at least for a day.
    ‘But I’m not dressed for a party,’ she said, looking down at her old trousers.
    Janina and Nicky both laughed at this. Benjamin looked less amused. ‘The knees are dirty,’ he observed.
    ‘It’s only wet, I think,’ said Thea. ‘I stumbled on the snow and landed on my knees. I could go back and change.’ She cast an unenthusiastic glance at the snow-covered track back to Lucy’s Barn. ‘And catch up with you later.’
    ‘No, no,’ said Janina firmly. ‘Come with us now. We can have a small lunch and you can be a big help with all the coats and boots and stuff like that.’
    Thea dimly remembered children’s parties, and the miraculous mountains of clothes and possessions that accompanied four-year-olds everywhere they went. They would bring presents for Nicky, and even possibly contributions of food, as well as the inevitable outdoor clothes. Hats, gloves and scarves would augment the coats and boots. ‘Right,’ she said.
    Nicky looked up at the au pair. ‘Will George come?’ he asked in a hesitant voice. ‘I want George.’
    Janina squeezed his hand, through two gloves. ‘No, I don’t think so, darling. I haven’t seen himsince the snow started. He won’t want to come out.’
    It seemed that the party was to be significantly diminished by the absence of this George, but when Thea raised an enquiring eyebrow at Janina, there was no responding explanation.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    The walk to the boys’ house was over half a mile, and Thea found herself relieved that she had Hepzie with her for the return journey, which was likely to be in darkness. Even so, she shivered inwardly at the prospect. Would one of the party parents give her a lift, she wondered? Not down the final