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‘that your bitch is it? The ‘expert ratter’ mentioned in your advertisement?’ He gestured towards Beattie.
    â€˜That’s her,’ said Darren. ‘Ratted all over, she has.’
    â€˜Is that so?’ Mr Trundle smiled. ‘Well, as it happens I do know of a good ratting job that’s coming up locally. Have you heard of Snares Farm? That’s just been sold and it’s going to be turned into holiday flats. I hear they’re looking for someone to go in and clear the rats before the builders start. Builders can be scared of rats you know, contrary to expectations. I’ve seen grown men crying at the sight of a few mice, never mind rats, but that wouldn’t worry you of course.’
    â€˜â€™Course not,’ said Darren, as, under the table, Beattie began to feel anxious.
    â€˜There’s a good price offered. Why don’t you go and give it a look?’
    â€˜What sort of good price ?’ Darren sat up.
    â€˜As I understand it,’ said Mr Trundle, lowering his voice confidentially, ‘they’re offering £20.00 an hour. So you might like to go and look at it, and work out your fee.’
    â€˜Who’s the bloke then? How can I get in touch with him?’
    â€˜The name’s Featherstone,’ said Mr Trundle, lowering his voice as if this was a secret. ‘Ask at the post office in East Foxmould. They’ll tell you where to find him.’
    â€˜You know a lot for an old geezer,’ said Darren rudely. ‘But ta for that. I’ll take a look at the place.’
    Darren stood up to go, and as he opened the pub door and pulled Beattie roughly through it, she heard the old man mutter to himself, I’ll teach him to advertise himself on my patch. If that poor little dog’s ever caught a rat in her life I’ll eat my hat.
    â€˜Hope Brian breaks his other leg,’ Darren said as they walked back to the van. ‘20 quid an hour! You can make my fortune for me round here. We’ll go on Saturday and look, then I’ll put in a price. So you’d better know your stuff you horrible little dog.’

    Later Charlie was surprised when Mr Trundle came in chuckling to himself. ‘Charlie boy,’ he said, ‘the world’s gone mad. Too many people are trying to steal our trade! Everyone thinks they’ve got a ratter. First that appalling driving woman. Now some scruffy youth in the pub. I’ve sent him to Rat Hall to have the life scared out of him. That poor little terrier. I wouldn’t be in her shoes, if she had shoes indeed.’

7
    Charlie meets Dora
    Charlie didn’t usually go to the village shop with Mr Trundle, and Mr Trundle didn’t usually go to the shop on foot. Indeed there were people living in the locality who might have been forgiven for assuming that Archibald Trundle was welded to his van seat, so rarely did he leave it unless actually on a job. But times were hard, and the brakes needed fixing. Mr Trundle had resolved to save his available brake power until he had something more important to do than buying bread.
    â€˜Come on Charlie Boy!’ he called, ‘let’s take a walk.’
    Horrified at the possible threat to his dignity should he be seen, Charlie flatly refused to wear a lead, but grumpily followed the old man the few hundred yards to the village store.
    On the same day Dora was delighted when Mrs Featherstone decided to try and make herself fitter in time for Christmas, and taking a bright red lead from the peg in the kitchen, invited Dora to leave her two daughters and go with her while she jogged along to collect the papers from the shop.
    Dora, Meg and Allie were not used to going for walks. Mrs Featherstone knew nothing about dogs, and whilst Emily tried to convince her of the importance of exercise for the Jack Russells, her mother refused to let her daughter go any distance on her own.
    â€˜It’s not safe out there darling,’ Mrs