Kitty's Countryside Dream Read Online Free

had a sharp beak and at the other end there appeared to be an awful lot of brown stuff squirting out. I didn’t like either end. I had no idea what running a chicken farm entailed but thanks to Agnes Porter it looked like I was about to find out.

Chapter Four
    F ollowing Tom through the oak door, I found myself standing in an office. There was a desk situated in the middle of the room, with a high-back, brown leather chair pushed underneath. The walls were pinned with what seemed like thousands of winning rosettes that fluttered in the draught when Tom opened the door. There were numerous filing cabinets and piles of papers, and there on the wall, in pride of place, was a portrait of a smiley woman holding a chicken that looked a lot like the chicken I’d run over with my bike on arrival at the Lodge. I wandered over to the photograph to take a proper look. Pausing for a moment in front of it, I squinted to focus my eyes. I recognised that smile. It was the same smile as Mum’s. Instantly I knew who this was; there was no denying the fact this woman was the image of Mum. This was the first time I had ever seen her – my grandmother, Agnes Porter.
    Tom stood still; he didn’t interrupt my thoughts but watched me whilst I studied the photograph. I could feel his eyes on me and he remained silent until I was ready to speak.
    â€˜My grandmother?’ My voice faltered as I said it. It seemed funny calling her that. Where had she been all my life and why didn’t I know she existed? Yet she must have known I did to leave this farm to me.
    â€˜Yes, that’s Agnes.’
    â€˜She’s holding a silkie.’
    â€˜You’re learning fast – I’m impressed. You do have the makings of a chicken farmer; it must be in the blood. That’s Dotty in the photo; she was Agnes’s pride and joy. Dotty has won competitions for the best breed all over the county, nothing less than first prize every time. They were inseparable; she spoke to that chicken like it was human and they even ate their lunch together, can you believe that?’ He laughed.
    Usually I felt socially awkward around new people but Tom made me feel at ease.
    Glancing up at my grandmother’s photograph, a surge of excitement ran through my veins; this was an opportunity to be grasped with both hands – a new beginning for me.
    How difficult could running this place be? Granted, I was a little scared to hold a chicken, but one step at a time – I could learn. Plus I had nothing else in my life; nothing else had ever been handed to me on a plate. This was my chance – it couldn’t be that hard.
    â€˜I’m afraid we’ve only got apple tea. I’ve been wanting to nip out all morning to buy some proper teabags, hope you don’t mind,’ Tom said, handing me a mug while gesturing for me to sit down in the high-back leather chair behind the desk.
    Taking the mug from him, I sipped the tea and placed it on the coaster on the desk. Never having tasted apple tea before, I concluded it was an acquired taste.
    â€˜The solicitor provided me with some paperwork informing me this place is mine.’ The minute I said ‘this place is mine’ I instantly regretted those words, feeling they were a little forceful. ‘I don’t want to step on your toes or anything,’ I quickly added, placing the letters down on the desk. The thought flashed through my mind that if Tom was suddenly put out by my arrival he may decide to leave the Lodge, which would leave me in a complete and utter mess. I wouldn’t have a clue how to run this place.
    Perching on the side of the desk, Tom picked up the evidence and glanced over it. ‘Yes, this is the same paperwork that was sent through to me here. I knew someone would be coming, I just didn’t know who and when.’ He gave me a lopsided grin. ‘Well, well, well, boss, I will do you the honour of being your right-hand man, if