Page 60 - Book 3 - (barcoded)
P. 60

The Wylder Valley
'I dare say the accommodation will improve after the building work is done. I'd be daft to leave now. How about we offer space for self-contained flats? There's a market for old animals' care homes to consider, as well. Think of the profit we could make from renting, like you do now, from the cottage,' he smirked.
Over time, Sharpey had proved to be malicious and belligerent; the nastiest animal Cyril had allowed into the mill. He and the other rats had abused Cyril's goodwill and were mean to the local animals and caused hardship. Cyril sighed and stared across the mill floor at a figure full of hatred and greed.
'You are quite right, Sharpey. We could be rich. Then you could repay me for your accommodation; the money for your supposedly dear old mother's care and the gambling debt you owed to the weasel mob. I am calling in the loan, mate. Pay up or leave. What's it to be?'
'Huh! Like always, you think yourself so clever. If your old dad hadn't left you this place, you'd be penniless,' snarled Sharpey.
Cyril strode with confidence to the open door and waited. Sharpey collected his tattered belongings and threw them in a sack. His parting words, 'I'll be back,' resonated with Cyril for weeks to come.
Sam Hedgehog was tired of hearing the word, mill. His wife, Betsy was forever nagging him about it. She talked about it when she woke up and again when she went to bed.

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