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on his bones to count as anything. Now he looked fit and healthy, with his cheeks full of colour, his chest filled out and it seemed he stood a whole ruler length taller.
    â€˜Hi, Francis.’ Max suddenly felt very shy.
    â€˜Hi,’ he said quietly, looking down and not knowing what to do with any of his lanky body.
    A silence sat between them like a giant clump of cow manure, until something happened to get rid of it. A great leaping sack of fur burst from the verandah, jumped down the steps and crash-landed on Max.
    â€˜Aahhh!’ she yelled as her body flew through the air like a splattered pancake. This was followed by a lot of muffled cries as a mini dust storm rose around the confusion of fur and what were once Max’s upright limbs.
    Ralph!
    It took a few moments for everyone to realise the affectionate mutt had escaped from his lead and was so excited by Max’s returnhe’d forgotten all the rules of how to say a proper hello.
    â€˜Gerr ’im orff meee!’ they thought they heard Max cry.
    Ben and Linden charged towards the dusty muddle and pulled Ralph away, but not before he’d done a good job of covering her clothes in a solid coat of dirt and fur and her face in enough dog slobber to fill a bucket.
    â€˜I forgot about you,’ she growled, as she wiped her sleeve across her mouth.
    Ralph whined, suspecting perhaps he’d overdone his welcome.
    â€˜Sorry about that, Max,’ said Eleanor. ‘We tied him up but ever since he heard you were coming he’s been falling over his own tail with excitement.’
    It wasn’t that Max didn’t like animals, she just liked it better when they kept away from her. Ralph, unfortunately, never got the hint, no matter how hard she tried to let him know it.
    â€˜Linden, would you mind taking him out the back?’ Eleanor asked. ‘You can tie him to the peach tree. Make sure he has plenty of water. We’ll go inside and welcome Max in a more pleasant way.’
    Linden led the down-hearted Ralph away as Max followed Eleanor, Francis and Ben inside.Before she closed the door, Max stopped and looked around the farm. When she first arrived here last Christmas, she was determined to hate it, but now she was back, it filled her with a warm, soft feeling in her stomach.
    It was good to be back.
    But as she turned to walk through the door, a squawking cackle of feathers exploded in front of her face like a feather pillow put through a shredder.
    Max pulled her head back and only just avoided the soaring, screeching attack. The chicken! she thought angrily, realising she’d only just avoided having her eyes plucked out.
    â€˜You think you’re clever, don’t you? Waiting until everyone has gone before you make your move,’ she said to the clucking lunatic who was acting all pure and sweet and pecking seed from the ground like it hadn’t done anything.
    â€˜Don’t think I’m not onto you,’ Max warned.
    The bird cackled quietly like it was smugly mumbling to itself.
    â€˜Next time you pull a stunt like that there’s going to be fried chicken all round.’
    The chicken pecked and clucked louder, which made Max even more angry.
    â€˜And don’t think I don’t know what you’re saying either,’ she hissed.
    â€˜I didn’t say anything.’
    Max cringed as she turned around and saw Linden standing by the verandah.
    â€˜I wasn’t talking to you,’ she said frowning, annoyed that she’d been caught talking to a chicken.
    â€˜Well who were you talking to?’ he asked, acting as innocent as the chicken.
    â€˜No one.’ Max hoped he’d accept that for an answer.
    â€˜You were talking to Geraldine, weren’t you?’
    Max laughed. ‘As if I’d be talking to a chicken.’ She tried to look convincing but even Geraldine stopped pecking and stared straight at her.
    â€˜You were talking to someone,’ he said