Page 58 - Book 3 - (barcoded)

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The Wylder Valley
and slates. He heard the farmer talking to a policeman and he said the barn was being demolished. He plans to refurbish the mill so that it can be used again. If you want my opinion, I think he'll sell it once it's been ...'
The weasel rambled on and on until his voice trailed away. All Cyril could think about was having to move back into the cottage and then find another home for his tenant.
'...mind you, Annie is a good girl, and her father adores the boys. Cyril! Are you listening?' Rowley asked.
The rat jerked his head and nodded. 'Yes. Sorry. I must be going, Rowley. Thank you for the tea.'
Cyril didn't want to walk out, but the wretched news had surprised and upset him, and he needed time alone to think about it. He rested for a while under a sycamore tree.
The rat had always intended to sell Mill Cottage, but he never seemed to get around to doing it. He simply preferred to live in the mill. As he climbed the mill steps he admired the worn stone where boots had trodden for years and years.
'This my home,' he muttered with sadness, opening the door.
'You're back, then?' hissed Sharpey Rat. 'I can see from your face, your new tenant told you the good news.'
'I thought you said you were moving out with the others. You've been hoping to settle in among those rogue weasels. What's keeping you here?' asked Cyril.
The wily old rat sat cross-legged on a sack of corn twisting his hands and cast his evil eyes around the mill. He turned his head and glared at Cyril.