Ive known Olivia Harper for years, the solitary widow who lives in a tiny thatched cottage on the edge of a Kent village. When folks try to tease her about being all alone, she chuckles and waves a dismissive hand. Alone? Oh, nonsense! Ive got a big family, she says, and the local folkthose oldfashioned chaps and ladiesjust smile and shake their heads, muttering under their breath that the only family she has is a handful of animals.
Olivia calls that menagerie her family, and she doesnt care a whit what the neighbours think. In a proper English household, youd expect a dog for security, a cat for mice, perhaps a few chickens for eggs. She, however, has five cats and four dogs, and all of them live inside the cottage rather than out in the garden, much to the amusement of the village gossip.
Five years ago, tragedy struck. Her husband and only son were killed on the same day when a lorry swerved into oncoming traffic while they were returning from a fishing trip. After that, Olivia could no longer bear to stay in the flat where every corner reminded her of the lost pair, nor could she walk the same streets and shop in the same stores without feeling the weight of neighbours sympathetic glances.
Six months later she sold the flat, packed up her cat Dudley, and bought the little cottage on the village fringe. Summers were spent tending a vegetable patch; when winter set in she took a job in the community centres canteen. Over time she coaxed each of her animals back from the streetssome had been begging at the railway station, others wandering into the canteen looking for scraps.
Thus her big family of rescued souls grew, each one once lonely and battered, now healed by Olivias generous heart. She made sure there was always enough love, warmth, and, as best she could, food to go round. Still, she kept telling herself shed stop bringing more animals home. She was determined to honor that promise.
In March, after a stretch of sunny days, Februarys cold rolled back in, covering the lanes with sharp snow and whipping icy wind through the night. Olivia hurried onto the last evening coacha sevenhour serviceback to her village. With two days off ahead, she stopped at the village shop after work, loading up provisions for herself and her furry brood, and tucked a few leftovers from the canteen into her bags. The sacks were heavy, pulling at her arms.
She reminded herself of the promise and tried not to look around, focusing on the pets waiting at home. Yet, as the old saying goes, the heart has eyes of its own. Half a dozen metres from the bus stop she froze.
A dog lay beneath a bench, its eyes empty, almost glassy. Snow had already settled on its back, coating it thickly. Passersby hurried past, wrapped in scarves and hoods, oblivious. Olivias chest tightened painfully; the promise vanished from her mind. She dropped her bags, rushed to the animal, and reached out. The dog blinked slowly.
Thank heavens youre still breathing, she whispered. Come on, dear, get up, come with me.
The dog didnt move, but it didnt resist either as she lifted it from under the bench. It seemed resigned, as if ready to leave this harsh world.
Later, Olivia could hardly recall how she managed to lug the two heavy bags and the limp dog to the bus station. Inside the waiting hall she claimed a corner seat and cradled the shivering creature, rubbing its frostbitten paws with warm hands.
Come on, love, pull yourself together. We still have a way home, she coaxed. Youll be the fifth dog in our pack, just to keep the numbers even.
She took a meatball from her bag and offered it. At first the dog turned away, but after a few moments of warming up, it sniffed, its nose twitched, and it accepted the bite.
An hour later the coach had already departed, leaving Olivia stranded on the snowy road. She fashioned a makeshift collar from her belt and a short leash, though the dogshed named Milliealready clung to her feet, pressing close.
Ten minutes later, a minibus pulled over and a driver leaned out.
Thank you, love! Dont worry, Ill let the dog sit on my lap; she wont make a mess, Olivia blurted.
No problem, the driver replied gruffly. Let her sit on the seat. Shes not a little pup, you know.
Millie, still trembling, somehow managed to curl up on Olivias knees, fitting there like a miracle.
Its warmer this way, Olivia smiled.
The driver gave a short nod, glanced at the makeshift collar, and turned up the heater. They drove in silence, Olivia holding the nowcozy Millie, watching the snowflakes flash past the headlights.
The driver stole occasional glances at her profile, noting the way she tucked the rescued dog close. He guessed shed found Millie on the roadside and was now ferrying her home. Olivia looked tired but calm, a faint smile playing on her lips.
When they reached her cottage, the driver helped unload the bags. Snow piled so high that the driver had to push the sagging gate with his shoulder; the rusted hinges gave way, and the gate crashed to the ground.
Dont mind that, Olivia sighed. Its about time I fixed it.
From inside came a chorus of barks and mews. Olivia hurried to the door, flung it open, and her whole animal family spilled out onto the yard.
Well, look whos back, she laughed. I wasnt lost, was I? Here I am, where I belong. Meet the newest addition.
Millie peered timidly from behind Olivias legs. The other dogs wagged their tails, sniffing at the bags the driver still held.
Come in, if youre not frightened by our big clan, Olivia called. Fancy a cup of tea?
The driver set the bags down but lingered at the gate.
Its late, I should be off. Youve got enough to feed, he said, stepping back.
The next afternoon a knock came at the cottage. Olivia slipped on her coat and opened the door to find the driver, a toolbox in hand, repairing the gate.
Good day, he said, wiping his hands. I broke the gate yesterday, so Im here to fix it. Vladimirs the name, and you are?
Olivia, she replied.
The tailwagging family sniffed the newcomer, circling him as he crouched to give each a gentle pat.
Olivia, dont linger out there. Come inside. Ill be done soon, and therell be tea waiting. Theres even a little cake in the car, plus some treats for the lot of you.
