Rowan In The Oak Tree Read Free Page B

leaf as its shadow fell on the pale blue backdrop above
her bed.
    As she began to doze off, Rowan imagined the patterns
in the leaves made pictures, and that she had her own secret cinema. She
watched as a little girl played in a field with her dog and his ball, and
smiled as they ran through the long grass. She could smell the meadow flowers
as each was disturbed, and could hear the delight in the little girl’s voice as
she and her dog neared the edge of the field, where a man who could only be her
father was waiting.
    Rowan sat bolt upright in bed, fully awake and fully
alert. If the little girl ran free in the meadow with her dog to her father,
she could run away with Peyton and be free; run away through the peeling blue
gate at the end of the garden and into the woods behind her house. She knew
that on the other side of those woods was the place her aunt lived, and beyond
that place, her own father.
    She grinned with glee, and would have bounded out of
bed to pack her most important possessions straight away, had there not been a
creaky floorboard right by the side of her bed that would give her away.
    Slowly, she lay back down and covered herself up
again, pulling the covers up to her chin. She smiled, and for the first time in
years, fell into a peaceful sleep filled with dreams of Peyton and her daddy.

*****
     
    The following morning passed in a slow-motion blur for
Rowan, and she barely noticed the blood on her bed sheets as she stripped them
from her mattress. She barely noticed her maman shouting, so usual was it, and so full of dreams of running away was she.
    She didn’t notice at all when she was hit so hard that
she fell into the dining table and hit her head, cutting it in the process. She
didn’t register her maman’s instant change in demeanour as she picked Rowan up and sat her on a dining
chair so she could wipe away the blood and put a plaster on.
    The first thing she saw properly that day with her
dream-filled eyes, were the eyes of her honey- coloured hound. Peyton looked happy; his brown eyes shone and his tongue hung out of his
smiling jaws. He knew his little madam was happy, and he wagged his tail
furiously, beating his cushion into a pulp.
    When the big woman had gone, Peyton cautiously but
eagerly came out from behind the door, head tucked down and bobbing, his tail
wagging and his tongue lolling. He knew his little madam was happy, and wanted
to know why, but first he needed to go outside.
    Rowan wriggled her way off the high dining chair and
stood, knees bent, arms wide, inviting Peyton for a cuddle. Peyton obliged, and
ran up to his little madam, putting his head between her knees as he wagged his
tail so hard Rowan thought it might fall off.
    Rowan reached down and scratched the soft head of her
one and only friend, before patting her chest with both hands, inviting Peyton
up for what Rowan called an ‘up-cuddle’. Within seconds Peyton’s forepaws were
on her shoulder, and he stood at his full height in front of her to lick her
face, tail still wagging back and forth madly.
    He stopped licking her a moment and looked at her
plaster, before nuzzling it on her temple and looking into her eyes. At times
like this, Rowan imagined Peyton was talking to her, and she understood each
word he said.
    She looked over her furry friend’s fuzzy shoulder, out
of the kitchen window. The sun was shining, the trees were dry and still. It
was going to be a beautiful day.
    Peyton noticed the shift in her attention as she paused her affections to look outside. He was pleased to see
her smiling; showing her teeth in a grimace any other animal would have found
threatening. Peyton thought it good that outside excited her and he dropped back onto all fours before making his way to the door. He wanted
outside too, and what better time than now, when his little madam was obviously
eager to be out in the sun.
    Rowan went to the hall door to listen to what her maman was doing, causing Peyton to flop in a hump