Free Escape to the Country by Patsy Collins

and his failure to sort it out.
    Leah stuffed her pockets with her phone, Tarragon's lead and as many
dog treats as she could fit in.
    "Come on boy, us country bumpkins are going to leave the wannabe
townie to her office work."
    Jayne grinned but said nothing.
    This time Leah wasn't so frightened of the cows and although she'd
have preferred them to display their curiosity at more of a distance
she realised their sniffing noses were just checking her out, not
wondering how tasty she'd be. Without Leah showing fear for him to
react to, the dog barely seemed to notice the larger animals.
    Instead of crossing the boggy ground where she'd got stuck a few days
earlier, Leah followed the track down towards the farm buildings. If
she'd been absolutely sure Duncan would quickly appear to lift her in
his strong arms she'd have been tempted to get stuck again. Only
tempted though, she knew if she was to attract his attention she'd
have to come up with something better than looking a complete idiot
every time she saw him.
    Once near the yard, she clipped on Tarragon's lead and walked briskly
and purposefully past the various barns and buildings toward the
house, with her head held high. She wasn't a trespasser or lost
rambler, she was there on a matter of business and with a grievance
for which she expected immediate action.
    There were several cars parked in the yard. All were coated with more
mud than polish and none were new or expensive looking, so must
belong to the workers rather than the man himself. G-B's was probably
housed in one of the outbuildings. Leah could hear a tractor in the
distance and closer was the low hum of some kind of machinery and
cattle mooing, but there was no sign of people.
    The farmhouse looked like a cross between Jayne's Primrose Cottage
and the home of a wealthy landowner. The original building had
obviously been extended with a huge conservatory to the right, low
outbuildings to the left and a neat glass porch built over the front
door. She walked up the uneven red brick path, passing under metal
archways covered in ancient looking brown stems. She guessed they'd
be covered in flowers later in the year, but couldn't tell which
type.
    The glass doorway to the porch sported no bell or knocker, so she
tapped gently on the glass pane. Immediately she realised the sound
was too quiet to be heard by anyone even if they were standing
directly behind the solid wooden doorway into the farm house. Leah
tried the handle of the porch door. It opened, allowing a waft of
scent to escape. She went inside and pulled the glass door behind her
to keep in the relative warmth and the perfume coming from the large
pot of blue hyacinths.
    Leah pounded the iron knocker onto one of the studs in the wide door.
She noticed how much smoother that stud was than all the others and
wondered how many generations of visitors had knocked just as she was
doing now. After a minute she pounded again and wondered how many
generations of tenants and workers had been kept out in the cold,
their legitimate concerns ignored by the rich landowners who sat
round roaring fires eating lavish dinners or off chasing poor,
innocent foxes.
    After ten minutes of banging on the door, walking round outside first
calling 'hello' and taking a few hasty peeks in at the windows Leah
had to admit she wasn't being ignored. There really wasn't anyone in.
She took the opportunity to take a closer look at how her enemy
lived. None of the curtains were drawn, so that was easy to
accomplish. One room was filled with high tech music and
entertainment equipment. There was a huge television, speakers
everywhere, games consoles - in short every expensive boy toy she
could think of. Somehow the large room still looked comfortable. It
was clearly an area he used, not just a place to show off the things
he could afford to buy.
    There was also a beautiful library with big squashy looking chairs
placed to receive sunlight at different times of day, strategically
positioned