Anna idly wondered if she was in heaven. Stood on the harbour wall and looking out to sea she revelled in the scent of the ocean as it blew inland. Gulls called and circled overhead. Waves lapped gently against the tiny beach and thick stone walls of the harbour. Way out to the west and beyond the horizon the sun was slipping into the placid sea. The blazing orb cast the last of its warming rays upon Anna's face, overpowering the chilly breeze that was whispering in off the sea.
Behind her in the harbour the little flock of bobbing fishing boats that called Porthleven home nestled gently together. They rose and fell on the water and their jostling masts and stowed booms looked to Anna like a tiny forest of wood and metal. It was beginning to get cold and her belly reminded the rabbit of the task at hand by growling irritably at her. Retrieving her bicycle from where it lay resting against the railings she went off in search of a pub.
When she had first arrived at the main street in Porthleven after whisking down the narrow country lanes on her ancient bicycle she had been forced to dismount almost at once. The juddering and rattling journey along the cobbles quickly began to take a rather painful toll on her backside. So she walked along while pushing the old black bike along beside her. She had noted the various establishments and shuttered shops as she journeyed down towards watch the sun set from the harbour. Now she was pushing her bike back up the hill on her way to a promising big red brick building not too far from the water front.
The faded letters on the gently swinging sign above the door of the pub spelled out 'The Harbour Tavern'. Anna propped her bike outside and ventured in. Within the dingy bar the drone of voices ceased at once. Deathly silence descended as the suspicious eyes of at least thirty wary fishermen swivelled round to regard her with mild hostility. Not to be deterred by the somewhat chilly reception the rabbit strode to the bar and spoke quietly to the brawny otter with a glass eye behind the counter. It was almost a relief when she discovered from him that there was no food to be served. Only then did she feel that she could beat a hasty retreat without appearing a coward.
As the door closed behind her the various conversations that ceased upon her entry returned once more to full volume. Anna left the crusty seafarers in their private world and conspiracies and sought a more hospitable venue.
'The Swallows Nest' when she came upon it was a stark contrast to the tavern. It was a warm and cosy little place with low exposed beams and hung with tiles. The walls were crammed with a multitude of framed paintings depicting all kinds of birds. Set upon the wooden bar was a neat row of ale casks. On the bottom of each barrel was the name of the brew it contained and a percentage indicating how potent it was. One barrel at the far end was painted black. Scrawled on the base in white chalk was the word 'Evil'. Anna giggled quietly and made a mental note to steer clear of that particular concoction.
Wooden tables and chairs of darkest mahogany filled the bar area. Nearly all of them were occupied by a varied collection of folk engaged in conversation and the relaxed imbibing of alcohol. Serving the foaming pints from behind the casks was a very pretty young vixen with a beautifully warm smile and gentle demeanour. She had the patrons nicely tamed and Anna suspected she rarely had any trouble come her way as a result. Sat at the bar was a familiar face. Oswald turned in his seat and the old badger gave a cheery wave and a hearty burst of Cornish. Anna assumed it was a greeting and waved back with a chuckle.
Oswald nodded to her as she moved to the bar. He turned back to his conversational sparring partner, a wiry looking and equally aged squirrel. They seemed to be engaged in a heated debate of some kind. Due to the heavy dialect both of them spoke in, Anna could not for the life of her decipher the topic. Settling herself in a space between Oswald's back and a quiet black Labrador Anna waited for her turn to be served by the busy Vixen. While she waited the rabbit glanced down at the seated canine beside her. The black dog was staring into his ale with gentle melancholy. Anna thought he looked very tired. His dark features showed the pepper-like beginnings of silver fur. His eyes were those of a man who had seen too much, too young. Many men who had fought in the war shared those eyes. She tried to guess his age as she waited.
Anna flinched as the door to the pub banged open behind her. A small round fox with a large round face was silhouetted in the portal. He was pushing her bicycle.
"This yours?" he roared to Anna over the din. The rabbit nodded, slightly dumbfounded. "Well, I best bring it in. That way no bugger gets ideas to filch it!" Anna blinked in confusion as her bike was promptly whisked through the bar and out of sight.
"That's my Dad. He'll just be popping it somewhere safe." the young vixen chuckled in way of explanation to the somewhat nonplussed rabbit. Anna shared a grin with the barmaid then tapped on one of the casks. The girl nodded and poured her a tankard of straw-gold ale. Anna also ordered herself a Ploughman's supper from the chalkboard menu nailed above the bar.
Anna took a cautious sip at the ale once she had paid up. Her eyebrows rose. The pale drink had a sharp and hoppy aroma that carried through to the flavour. There was a surprising and wonderfully fresh citrus tang to the after-taste. All in all she found it extremely drinkable and most pleasant indeed. She was supping greedily at the delicious pint when the security minded fox returned.
It transpired that he was the landlord. Diminutive in height only his immense gut and impressive brawn made him appear as wide as he was tall. He had a chest like a barrel and arms like tree trunks. He roamed around the pub chatting and joking with anyone he encountered. By listening intently to the greetings he received from his patrons Anna was able to gather that his name was Elias. He was possessed of a jolly, booming voice with deep tones and near perfect elocution. When he delivered punch lines with eardrum shattering clarity he more often than not ended the joke with hearty clap on the back. Sometimes that left the hapless recipient with the wind knocked out of them and seeing stars for a moment or two.
Elias took a shine to Anna almost immediately. He often made up his mind about a persons character within a few seconds and today was no exception. In his opinion she looked like a good soul. So it was that returning from the cellar with a fresh cask of ale over one beefy shoulder he resolved to make her acquaintance. He manoeuvred the cask into an empty space on the bar and grinned at Anna's back.
"On holiday?" Elias barked in cheery enquiry as he hooked his thumbs into his braces. Anna nearly jumped out of her skin. Whirling round to face the red furred publican she stared down at him over the top of her glasses. She could scarce believe that a voice that loud had come out of someone so short.
"Not holiday." the stunned rabbit replied. Elias nodded and his ears perked forward intently. Anna began to realise that she was not getting away with such an evasive answer. She was being interrogated. Her plan about keeping a low profile crumbled in the face of such good natured interest. "I am here for school...the school. I am to teach French there." Her reply made that impish grin spread even wider over his muzzle. He rocked back and forth on his heels while his tail thrashed excitedly back and forth.
"Ah-ha! Jason mentioned something about a new schoolmarm. French is it? Good stuff! Our Jason teaches science over there n'all." Abruptly a feminine roar of rage filtered down from the ceiling. Silence fell in the pub as all eyes and heads turned upwards. Upstairs an unseen drama was unfolding. Raised voices and the sound of splashing were soon replaced by the unmistakable quick-fire sound of paws in full flight. Everyone held their breath.
Moments later a naked, dripping, half scrubbed fox cub appeared in the bar. Soap suds still clung to its wet fur from the neck down. Thanks to an infantile lack of shame it was perfectly clear to the onlookers that the cub was a todd. The little chap looked distinctly unhappy.
"Strewth." rumbled Oswald. The Labrador beside him chuckled. Anna had to clap a paw over her mouth to keep from laughing at the sight.
"Eric! Get back upstairs now!" Elias demanded. All the onlookers as well as the cub flinched at the command. The soapy child put his ears forward and bared his teeth in petulant defiance.
"Shan't." he declared. "Mamma's gonna get soap in me eyes. She allus does!" Elias looked less than impressed and with all the restrained fury of a volcano he silently pointed at the stairs the child had apparently just slunk down. The cub stamped his paw. It gave a wet splat on the grey stone flags. "No! It hurts. An' she always try n'drown me."
The exasperated landlord's tail bristled. He lunged for the tiny escapee. The sodden infant however proved to be remarkably spry. He fled sideways and led his father a merry chase around the drinkers who howled with laughter. Eric seemed to like being the centre of attention very much indeed. This changed when his father finally managed to seize him firmly by the scruff.
Elias held the enraged, struggling child aloft and at arms length. The cub flailed and writhed, snarled and snapped in a flurry of soapy droplets. This ended when his father clipped him smartly about the ears with a paw. Curling his paws under his chin and his tail between his legs the cub pleaded for mercy. It was no use. The little fox was soon whisked away to face the wrath of his unseen mother.
Wiping tears of mirth from her eyes Anna quickly moved over to claim a table in the corner of the bar as its occupants finished their drinks, donned coats and headed for the door. Settling in she stretched her legs out under the table and made herself at home. She did not have long to wait before another fox in his early teens emerged from the kitchen and slipped an overflowing plate before her. Anna stared at it in wonder. There were huge slabs of home baked bread, cold hard-boiled eggs, ham sliced from the bone, pickled onions, chutney, slices of apple and pickled beetroot. It did not stop there. There was also a small field tomato, two small picked shallot onions and massive hunks of cheese. Anna saw mature cheddar, some Stilton, a ripe slice of Brie and a contrasting Double Gloucester. This was all topped off by a generous salad of celery, carrot, onion, cucumber and lettuce.
Anna thanked the boy who grinned and was gone with a flick of his bushy tail. Anna then set about her dinner with gusto. As she munched on some of the bright purple pickled beetroot the rabbit perked her ears. Outside a truck had rumbled up to park beside the pub. Moments later a veritable swarm of uniformed men strode into the pub. Most wore the black double breasted jackets, black trousers, white shirts, black ties and white topped peaked caps of the Royal Navy.
Anna sipped at her ale and tilted her head. Not all of the men were English. Some wore similar uniforms, but their jacket buttons were gold rather than silver. From the way the spoke to one another, she guessed that they were Dutch. There were also two stern looking Indian tigers in magnificent and immaculate crisp white uniforms, a trio of Germanic wolves and five or so boisterous Americans.
They stood in groups at the bar, chatting, joking and drinking from foaming tankards. The Indians, Germans and two of the British officers detached themselves from the group and settled in to an empty table to enjoy their drinks away from the more energetic group of naval drinkers.
Anna ate her fill and quenched her thirst with two further pints of ale. Replete and ever so slightly tipsy from the potent brew she felt delightfully content. Closing her eyes for a moment the rabbit perked her long ears and set about idly listening in on the conversations about her. Two gruff dogs to her right were discussing the merits and drawbacks of tractors over horse drawn machines. A young couple of hares behind her were wooing one another with sweet words and rather sultry suggestions. Over by the bar a Dutch rabbit was describing the massive endowments of a woman he had seen from his aircraft earlier that day.
Anna snapped her eyes open and looked sharply over at the speaker. He was a little fellow with a lit cigarette held in the corner of his mouth. His pint rested on the bar and his hands were making it perfectly clear just how voluptuous his quarry had been. She glanced down at her chest and her cheeks began to burn. So did her temper. Over at the bar a few of the other naval gentlemen had spotted her. They stopped smiling and laughing. The Netherland Dwarf remained unaware. His back was to her and he was now acting out just what he would like to do with the rump he had just finished describing in lewd and intricate detail. The officers sat at the table were scowling at him.
"Ah, steady on buddy." an American Foxhound suggested with an apologetic smile towards Anna as she gnashed her teeth in humiliation and fury. The Dutchman did not steady his course. Instead he ignored the diplomacy and suggested that from what he had seen, his target was more than enough woman to share. The seated officers looked furious. One of the Indian tigers made to stand. Before he could however, Anna took matters into her own hands.
"I am telling you, we could go round! We have just to be finding her little house on the map." The Dutch rabbit stubbed his cigarette out in an ashtray with a self satisfied laugh and reached for his beer. Drawing it to his lips he was halfway through a deep draught when a picked shallot onion whisked briskly through the air and neatly lodged itself in his ear. The result was somewhat spectacular. Beer exploded from the Dutchman's lips and nose. The pilot choked and doubled over to enjoy a loud and painful fit of coughing with the morsel still ludicrously lodged in his ear. The Indians and Germans stood up smartly and began to applaud.
Once he had finished hacking and smarting from the cheers and laughs of the other customers in the pub, the Dutch rabbit whirled to face his attacker. Hooking the offending pickled vegetable from his ear the fight left him as soon as he saw her. He paled at the sight of the enraged Anna with a fork clutched murderously tight in one paw, a second unthrown onion projectile in the other.
"More woman than you can handle, old boy?" drawled a British rat in dry enquiry as he twirled a finger over the neatly waxed and curled tip of his whiskers. This drew another peal of laughter from the other pilots and forced the humiliated Dutchman to make a few pathetic excuses and leave the pub with ears splayed and his uniform soaked with spilled ale.
Anna suddenly found herself rather popular. In no time at all she was waist deep in gifts of drink. Everyone wanted to hear her story and get to know her. All in all, as introductions to the locals went it had gone rather well.
