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That was how father's stories often finished. He would tale the En-gal mask back from me and return it to its proper place on the study wall. Some years later, father taught me what he knew of En-gal, and of the rites of exorcism.

I smiled at those happy memories and came slowly back to the here-and-now. I was sure that my mother would be happy to take Gerald in for a few weeks. I headed for the sacristy and did my best to wash the blood out of my fur using the single cold tap over the sink. Once my muzzle was looking more black and white than mass murderer red, I locked up the church and went to my car; which was not there. This induced a moment of blind panic, but came to the happy realisation that Harry had taken my car keys to drive Gerald to the vicarage. Sadly, this meant that I had to walk home in the rain.

I trudged back to the vicarage. By the time I reached my front door I was soaked from tip to tail. I let myself in and padded wetly across the tiles in the hall. Just as I reached the door to my study, Harry and Gerald came down the stairs. Harry proffered me the towel he was holding, an apologetic look on his face. Quickly I dried what I could, but the rain had worked its way through all of my clothes. I handed the now damp towel back to Harry.

'No wet dog comments.' I warned him as he stifled a snort of laughter. I turned my attention to Gerald: 'Make yourself at home. I'll see about getting you to somewhere further away from Arthur Oxfold just as soon as I've changed out of these wet clothes.'

Gerald smiled and said:

'Thanks again, Father, Harry's shown me my room. I really am very grateful.'

I smiled, the lad seemed a little happier already, and I was glad to be able to help him. I made my way to my bedroom, grabbing another towel on the way. I dried myself more thoroughly and put on a dry shirt and trousers. Once I was feeling more civilised, both in self and appearance, I sat on the edge of my bed and picked up the telephone.

I dialled and listened as the phone rang. There was a crackle of static and a pop as my mother picked up. I had to smile, that telephone must have been older than I was. I also couldn't help but wag my tail when I heard my mother's voice.

'Hello? 271450.' She said.

'Dzal pa-latayal!' I said.

'Don't you "greetings den mother" me, Francis Shepherd!' She replied. 'I haven't heard from you in ages.'

I smiled again, I could hear the humour in my mother's voice.

'Sorry, Mum. How are you?'

'I'm fine, love. I've just got back from visiting Mrs Merula: she's been showing everyone her holiday photos, oh, and her broken wing. She was drunk in the bar on the cruise ship, or so Mr Talpa at the shop said. She's saying it was due to a rough crossing. And, one of your Dad's friends from his missionary work is visiting.

'Ahh, I said, 'Does that mean you wouldn't be able to have another guest? Only, there's someone in my parish who needs a place to stay.'

There was a rustling on the other end of the line. I could picture what was happening: my mother had put the telephone receiver on the table, ever so gently, and was checking her diary - which was normally very full. A moment later there came a faint scraping noise as the receiver was picked up again.

'Are you still there, Taonta?'

'Yes, Mum.' I replied, it had to be good news, my mother only ever called me 'son' in En-gal when there was good news.

'I've got this missionary friend staying for a few days, but your old bedroom is free. When are you going to bring your someone-from-the-parish over? I should be home tomorrow.'

This was as good as being a command from God himself. I checked my diary and was thankful that tomorrow looked relatively free.

'I'll bring him over tomorrow, Mum.'

'Good, I'll see you then, come for lunch! Ooh, I've got to dash, I've just seen the vicar coming down the drive.'

And with that, my mother was gone - she had never been very good at ending phone calls. I wandered back downstairs thinking about how I was going to feed my currently rather extended household.

As I reached the kitchen, it became apparent that I needn't have worried, as between them Harry and Gerald had raided every single cupboard I had. The both looked round with guilty looks on their faces as they heard my claws click on the tiled floor.

'We made some lunch.' Said Gerald, who was nervously scratching the fur behind his left ear.

'So I see.' Normally, I would have had more to say, but my nose was working overtime. There was a delicious smell wafting from the oven. It wasn't just the smell that had temporarily robbed me of my power of speech, I was shocked: I knew for a fact that Harry was, at the very best, a purely functional cook; this had to mean that Gerald had created whatever was sending those tempting odours all round my kitchen.

Indeed, it was Gerald who placed the finished article on the table. It was a savoury tart with a delicate lattice-work top. Again, I said the first thing that come into my head:

'I don't remember ever buying any pastry.'

'I made some.' Replied Gerald. 'I wanted to say thank you properly.'

I was speechless, all I could do was stare. I dawned on me that I had had underestimated the fox: I had heard his story and written off any chance that he might have some greater talent.

'You're welcome.' Was all I could think to say.

The tart was excellent. I don't think that any of us said a word until it was finished, as my mother always said: 'Silence at the table is the sign of a great chef.'

Afterwards we sat contentedly. Gerald began to clear the table. I laid a paw on his arm.

'Don't worry about that.' I said. 'Thanks for a wonderful meal, the least me and Harry could do is the washing up. Anyway, I've got some good news for you. I've sorted out somewhere for you to stay that's away from the village and Arthur Oxfold and you will be welcome there for as long as you need.'

Gerald's ears pricked up.

'That sounds good, Father.' He said. 'But, I've only got the clothes I'm wearing. I can't go and get the rest of my stuff from the estate.'

I hadn't considered that Gerald wouldn't have a change of clothes - of course, I had never had to run away. Harry came to my rescue.

'If you don't mind,' He said, 'I would be more than happy to take Gerald over to Amblehead to get some basics. Anyway, it'll keep us out of your way this evening, we'll eat in town.'

He said this with a conspiratorial waggle of his ears.

Anna! I thought. I had completely forgotten about my date. It was as if Harry could read my thoughts. He nudged Gerald and said in a stage whisper:

'He's realised. Watch, he'll turn into an overexcited pup.'

I decided not to, too obviously, rise to the bait (although inside I was overexcited and more than a little nervous). I gave Harry what I sincerely hoped was a cold, hard stare, but from his reaction it wasn't. Both he and Gerald fell about laughing. I waited while they regained their composure. After some semblance of calm had returned, I said:

'I could do with you to out of my fur for the rest of the day. I think, Harry, you've still got my car keys, so head out whenever. Umm... Gerald, are you all right for money?'

'I'm all right, I managed to get my wallet before I left.' He said.

Fifteen minutes later, I heard my car pull away from the house. For the first time in what felt like an absolute age, I had the place to myself. I wandered around tidying the kitchen. The cleaning up after lunch took longer than I had expected; I think that Gerald had managed to use every bowl and utensil I owned.

Having restored order in the kitchen, I went back upstairs. I opened my wardrobe and looked at my clothes. I realised that I didn't really have much in the way of casual wear. At least half of what I owned was black and the rest was a mixture of scruffy T-shirts and jeans. I took a few things out of the wardrobe only to reject them. In the end, I settled on my standby "normal" clothes: a red checked collarless shirt and my newest pair of jeans, which had, frankly, seen better days. To this day, I have still not mastered coordinating my tail, my trousers and a belt; therefore, I spent an awkward few minutes hopping on one paw trying to sort myself out - at one point yelping loudly as I caught my tail in a belt loop.

I kept myself busy for the rest of the afternoon, there were parishioners to phone and of the apparently never-ending paperwork that littered my desk. The afternoon crawled past, the paperwork crawled slower. After what felt like an eternity I headed out for evening prayer. As I left the house, I offered silent thanks that the rain had finally stopped. The sun was just coming out from behind the clouds. A fine mist was rising from the damp verges and lawns, the vapour turning gold as it caught the early evening sun. I walked down the road enjoying the warmth. It felt odd, walking around the parish not dressed as a priest.

On my way towards the church, there was a steady stream of villagers heading in the other direction. I received the odd glance from some animals - they weren't hostile or curious, rather it was as if they were noting something out of the ordinary. I couldn't think what was unusual, I had walked along here twice a day every day the past six months. It did strike me as strange that what felt like half the village was going in the same direction, though. I thought it was a little odd, but I tried to put it from my mind as I neared the church.

Despite my embarrassment of the other day, I couldn't resist vaulting the churchyard wall. I landed in the damp grass on all fours. I straightened up and dried my paws on the front of my trousers. I walked across the grass, my tail waving lazily as I enjoyed the feeling of the damp grass under and around my foot paws.

Inside, the church was cool, the smell of old stones filling the air. As I walked up the nave, I left a trail of damp paw prints behind me. Evening prayer passed in a haze. There were so many things playing on my mind that it took a real effort of will to concentrate on the Psalms, readings and prayers. I closed my prayer book with a snap and pulled out my phone. Only quarter to seven, I thought, I don't want to be too early for Anna. So, I forced myself to sit in church for another ten minutes.

Ten minutes dragged by, I distracted myself by rearranging the chairs in the sanctuary and then giving up on the idea and putting them back where I had found them. Every minute or so, I would pull my phone out of my pocket to check the time. When, at last, my self-imposed time of waiting finished, I shot out of the church at a speed that wouldn't have disgraced and En-gal cheetah. Such was my hurry, that I fumbled fruitlessly with the lock on the church door for a moment until I forced myself to slow down. Door locked, I ran off down the path and across the road without looking, which normally would have earned me the ire of commuters returning home from Amblehead and Newton, but tonight the road was strangely quiet.

I slowed to a walk as I crossed the village green. Nervously, I twitched at my shirt and checked that my ears were the right way out (they had a habit of turning inside out: cute on a puppy, daft on a priest). As I reached the gate to Anna's garden, I paused for a moment to gather my composure and regain my breath. Once I felt that I was acting as normal as possible (on the outside at least), I walked through the garden and knocked on the door.

After a few seconds, Anna answered the door. I was enchanted. Normally, Anna would wear sensible trousers and blouses; sometimes pairing them with a heavy black jacket, which I believe had belonged to her mother. Tonight, she was wearing a simple blue dress. It was sleeveless and she was wearing a thin, brown belt around her waist. The light fabric and subtle cut of the dress flattered her slightly built feline form. Later, I realised that I must've been staring as Anna said:

'Do you like it? I don't get to wear it often.'

I nodded and then remembered that I had the power of speech.

'Yuh, yes.' I stammered. 'It's lovely, very beautiful.'

Anna laughed appreciatively.

'It's odd to see you dressed kind of normally, Father.'

'Only kind of normal?' I asked with a smile. 'And, please call me Francis, Anna, I'm not on duty!'

'Okay, Francis.' Said Anna.

I smiled again and was rewarded with a grin in return. I shuffled my foot paws slightly as I try to think of what to say next. Thankfully, Anna came to my rescue.

'I'll just get my bag,' She said, 'And then we can head over to the pub.'

'Great.' Was all I could think to say.

As she disappeared back into the house to collect her bag, I scratched nervously at my muzzle. What felt like an eternity later (although it was, in reality, a few seconds) and returned with her bag. She locked the front door and shooed me off the doorstep.

We walked slowly across the green chatting about nothing in particular. As we walked, I noticed that Anna was walking just close enough to me that every so often our arms would brush together. The feeling of her fur against mine was thrilling.

As we entered the pub's main bar, I had to duck under the low lintel of the door. The part was almost as old as the church. It was a low rambling building with a long public bar. Inside it was what I always thought of as "typical pub": lots of dark wood and little booths that looked like they had been made from old church pews. We chose a booth in the far corner of the bar and I went over to the bar to order some drinks.

The publican was a grizzled old greyhound. He was local to the village, but I couldn't say that I knew him. He gave me a calculating stare. Before I could say anything, he held up a paw.

'Closing early tonight. Kitchen's closed.'

'Right.' I replied. 'Can I still order some drinks?'

The greyhound grunted and then nodded.

'I'd like a pint of Mandrake Bitter, please. Oh, and a pint of Amble Valley Cider.'

Our drinks are poured and I paid. I made my way back to our booth with great care - two pints, and uneven floor, and a clumsy dog don't make for the best of friends. I put the drinks down on the table with a sense of a job well done.

'Cheers.' I said.

Anna raised her glass. We sat quietly for a moment savouring our drinks.

'The landlord said he's closing early.' I said. 'Looks like I've chosen a bad evening socialising.'

'It's a nice evening,' Said Anna, 'We could always go for a walk, I suppose.'

We finished our drinks as the publican was already started closing the pub. I was at a loss to work out why he would close early on a summer's evening. The landlord all but shoved us out of the door and we stood in the pub's garden for a moment. I was rapidly giving up hope for the evening, when Anna spoke:

'Shall we go for a walk, then?' She asked. 'I know a lovely path along the river.'

I nodded and said:

'I didn't know there was a path along the river.'

'Oh yes, it's quite beautiful this time of year.'

With that, Anna took my paw and led me up the road. We left the road at the same place where me and Harry had gone the day before. When we reached the footbridge Anna abruptly cut off to the right: almost hidden by bushes and undergrowth was a little pass which followed the riverbank back towards the church.

The little path was idyllic, just wide enough for two to walk side-by-side. On the left side of the path the grass sloped gently down to meet the Amble, here and there were little sandy bays where the river had eroded the bank side. On the right, the meadows stretched up to the road; here the pass was lined with wildflowers, foxgloves and dog daisies. All around came the soft droning of bees. Anna slipped her paw into mine and this idyll became a slice of heaven. We walked in companionable silence along the riverbank, passing the rear of the pub and skirting through the churchyard. The evening was, by now, quite still; all that could be heard was the buzzing of the bees in the honeysuckle on the churchyard wall and the swish-swish of our paws in the grass.

Just the far side of the churchyard, the village council had seen fit to erect a wooden bench under the shade of an ancient weeping willow. Anna drew me over to it and sat down. I joined her and we sat looking across the river through a curtain of green fronds. We sat there as the shadows lengthened and the space under the willow darkened until it was like sitting in some cool green cave.

I felt Anna move, she shuffled closer to me and laid her head against my shoulder. I brought my arm slowly around her shoulders and she snuggled her face into the fur of my neck, her left ear brushing against my muzzle. We sat like that for some minutes, although, for me, it was as if time had stopped. After the last few days of upheaval and strangeness, this was a perfect moment. I prayed that it could last an eternity. In the stillness under the willow all I could hear was Anna's gentle purring as she leant against me.

We sat for a while longer until, very slowly, Anna ran her right paw across my chest and around the back of my neck, pushing her face into the side of my neck. She drew my head down against hers. I felt as she drew away and then back. Then, her lips were against mine, her whiskers tickling against the sides of my muzzle. That kiss lasted no more than a minute, but to me it felt like hours, glorious, tender hours.

Her scent was in my fur, I breathed deeply through my nose wanting to capture with all my senses this blessed moment. She tensed her arm around my neck, holding me closely, tightly. I squeezed her shoulder gently, moving my paw through her fur. Anna purred deeply in response to my embrace and she drove her face back into my neck fur. This time, though, I could feel as she planted little kisses on my neck.

Anna turned in her seat and placed her legs across my lap. I brought my free paw around her waist and held her close stop we remained intertwined in this hug as the sun finally set and the moon rose.

Sometime later, Anna wriggled herself off my lap. She ran her paw over my head and ears causing me to growl playfully at the back of my throat. She nuzzled against my face and kissed me lightly, then said softly:

'It's getting late; we should head back.'

'I suppose so.' I replied, gently planting a kiss of my own on her neck. She laughed and grabbed my ears, pulling me close and kissing me again. Once she had let go, I stood up and, in what I thought was a gallant manner, offered her my paw. The moonlight shone and danced on the surface of the Amble. Ahead of us lay the Amblehead Road and the Oxfold Estate. Although the estate lay in darkness, I could make out a fire twinkling in the distant hills.

'What do you think that is?' I asked pointing with my free paw.

'What do I think what is?' Replied Anna, she slid her paw across the small of my back and sighted theatrically along my pointing arm, holding me by the waist. Once she had caught sight of what I was pointing to, she gasped. Involuntarily her claws slid out and into my side, causing me to grasp as well.

'Sorry, Francis.' She said. 'It's The First Rite tonight, that must be why the pub closed early. We need to get home.'

She took hold of my paw again and we continued walking. I noticed that since Anna had mentioned The First Rite she was pressing herself closer to my side. Her tail was swishing nervously, every so often curling around my tail or leg. The river path brought us out on the Amblehead Road by the bridge. We turned right and headed up the gentle slope to the village. As we reached the T-junction by the vicarage we paused, Anna looked up at me and asked:

'I know this sounds old-fashioned, but would you walk me home? I just wouldn't be happy walking home alone tonight.'

'Of course I will.' I replied and gave Anna's paw a reassuring squeeze.

'Thanks, Francis.'

We headed away from the vicarage and along the High Street. We left the High Street almost immediately and very soon we were standing on Anna's back doorstep. She unlocked the door and turned around.

'Thanks for a lovely evening.' She said. 'Would you, perhaps, like dinner tomorrow night?'

'I'd love to,' I replied, awkwardly scratching my muzzle, 'But, I've got to go to my mother's place in the Borders tomorrow, how about Friday?'

'All right.' She said, and then quickly pulled me close and kissed me. 'Good night then.'

I stood on the doorstep briefly after Anna had gone inside. I snapped out of my happy daze and headed home feeling light and strangely buoyant.

There were still lights burning in the vicarage as I walked up the path. I slipped into the hall and followed the sounds of talking to the living room. Both Gerald and Harry looked up as I entered the room. Harry smirked and pointed at me.

'Look at that, he's dressed like the normal!' He said 'how did it go, Nerd?'

'Oh fine, fine. Although, it's none of your business.' I replied. 'Anyway, how was your trip?'

'Not bad. We found a nice restaurant near the castle.'

'Good.' I said. 'Gerald, will you be ready to leave tomorrow morning?'

Gerald nodded.

'Yes, Father.' He said.

'Good, we'll have to leave early. It's a fair drive to the Borders.'

What remained of the evening passed, until I called it a night. As I was drifting off to sleep, I'm sure that I could still hear Gerald and Harry talking.