Depends What It Says On The Label
They took a different path as they came back down off the hill. It took them through a shady glade which had a very shallow little stream running through it. Not much more than a trickle, it was still enough for them to use blades of grass and the odd little twig in races to see who’s would be the first to reach the small rock that sat proudly in the middle.
Passing by a few fields, they waved to the people working there who waved merrily back at them.
Chloé looked at her watch. “Goodness! I didn’t realise it was so late. We should be getting back.”
Evan stood up from the long grass. “Just one more go,” he called then clambered back onto the fallen tree and launched himself into the air.
“What’s he doing?” Francis enquired from his seat in Chloé’s rucksack. “I can’t see anything, apart from where we’ve been, from back here.”
“Don’t hurt yourself,” she called to Evan then answered Francis. “He’s pretending he’s got a parachute and has to jump out of a plane.” She was grinning.
Evan strolled back over. Monkey, still sat in the bag on his back, said, “There’s not much chance of him hurting himself with me here. My banana’s a bit squashed though.” They all laughed.
Without going all the way back by the way they came, the quickest route home was through the tiny village. By the time they got there they were quite thirsty, having finished the water some time ago.
There was a little shop at the side of the road that proudly proclaimed itself ‘ABC’. It was open.
“Why’s it called ‘ABC’ I wonder?” Chloé said, almost to herself.
“I know the answer,” Francis was eager to recover some importance, having earlier forgotten things. “It’s because they sell everything in the alphabet.”
“Shouldn’t they call themselves the ‘A to Z’ then?” Evan offered.
Francis rested his head on his paw in a manner he thought portrayed great wisdom. “Too many words. The Mayor says shops like this can only have three letters. It’s the rules, you know.” The fact was, he didn’t actually know if it was ‘the rules’ because he was making it up. He did that a lot. If he didn’t know the answer he would happily invent it.
“Do you think they will have a cold drink in there?” Chloé was busy looking through her purse. “How much will it be?”
“Depends what it says on the label,” was the best Francis could tell her.
The lady in the shop was very helpful and although neither of them could speak each other’s language they seemed to understand one another. The drinks in the fridge were slightly more than Chloé could find in her purse but that didn’t matter because the lady took a big jug of yellow liquid from another fridge, behind the counter, and poured some of it into a freshly washed plastic bottle, after she’d given them a taste, of course. It was delicious and very refreshing.
She pointed to a calendar on the wall; a picture of a tree that had fine little white flowers and she then used a kind of sign language to say she’d made the drink herself. Chloé recognised the picture. Elderflower.
With a cheery wave from the doorway, the lady saw them off.
On arriving home, though refreshed, they were suddenly very hungry.
“What’s for tea tonight, Moopah?” Evan asked.
He smiled back at them. “I don’t know what you’re having but I’m having sprouts.”
“SPROUTS! URRGGHH!” they howled.