Hankypanky (Clovenhoof Book 9) by Heide Goody & Iain Grant

Author:Heide Goody & Iain Grant [Goody, Heide & Grant, Iain]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pigeon Park Press
Published: 2024-04-25T00:00:00+00:00

33

Ascent caught Twinkle’s nose. (He might have wanted to think of himself as a ‘Craig’ – or maybe a ‘Darren’ or possibly a ‘Gareth’ – but in his heart of hearts he still called himself Twinkle.) It began at the edge of the grassy area by the pub and went off into the woods beyond. Dozens of people had passed this way in the last few hours, all bearing a hot, sweaty, meat scent within them, but in the midst of that tapestry of smells was the goaty funk and softer aroma of Clovenhoof and Ben, respectively. Twinkle had known the two of them for most of his life and had much appreciated Clovenhoof’s odorous contributions to their shared home. Most humans devoted chunks of their life to banishing quality smells, masking rich and informative aromas with floral chemical guff. Not Mr Clovenhoof. Clovenhoof’s flat was like a vast library for the nose. Twinkle could read almost every week of Clovenhoof’s life by some small stink here or great guff there. The man knew how to lay on entertainment for a dog.

Twinkle sniffed at the trodden earth again. Yep, the unmistakeable body odour of one Jeremy Clovenhoof esquire.

“Oi, sweetheart. They’ve gone this way,” he said.

“Yeah, hang on,” said Nerys, distracted. “I’m just going to get in touch with these Hankymen people. They seem to be meeting up with this Morris gang tonight. Maybe we can head them off at the pass.”

“Nah, you don’t understand. Trail’s going cold, innit?” Which was not exactly true, but Twinkle was keen to get in pursuit.

“A minute, all right!” she snapped, still staring at her phone. “And no talking in front of people!”

Twinkle snorted in derision and went off to follow the trail anyway.

There were a few clear trails through this woodland, but this was no park. Many a time, Twinkle had been taken to the huge Sutton Park near their Boldmere home where there were acres upon acres of land, and all manner of thrilling turds to sniff at. There was the usual dog crap and bird shit, but there was also sheep and rich dungy horse turds, and even deer. All chuffing amazing, while the park was bigger than one dog could explore in a single day, but ultimately, it was still parkland. It was managed and sculpted and arranged to suit human needs. There was no wilderness to it. A dog could hardly access his inner wolf in such a place. But here…

He was less than a hundred metres into the wood before that true wilderness stink was upon him. Ancient earth, rotting vegetation, and best of all, the low level hum of a million things which had died here over the centuries. It was rich and beautiful; a homecoming of sorts.

Twinkle raced with joy through narrow paths, leaping over large tree roots which burst through the earth, scrambling awkwardly over the largest of all. This place was a Valhalla, a Happy Hunting Ground for all dog-kind.

He paused to check the smell trail.

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