their shotguns into the air. This brought the Veterinary Serviceâs vehicles to a grinding halt. A great roar of delight went up from the Bridges family. In the midst of it all Mrs. Bridges quietly and calmly began kneading a great mound of dough on her kitchen table, her small, floured hands working it with furious energy.
Dan said hesitantly. âI say, you wouldnât actuallyâ¦you know, fire at them? Properly, would you?â
âTry me,â came the grim reply from Mr. Bridges.
Matters intensified when Mike Allport gingerly got out of his car, stepped onto the garden path and shouted, âNow, Mr. Bridges, you know it has to be done. Put the guns away and let us get on with it.â
âOne step nearerâ¦â Everyone heard the cocking of his trigger.
Mike Allport shouted, âDonât let me have to get the police in.â
âGet who the hell you like, youâre not slaughtering my flock. Get off my premises, youâre trespassing. Fire!â Mr. Bridges fired another shot into the air, which prompted the other four guns to go off and Mike Allport to get back into his car. The noise was stunning and served its purpose in warning Mike they meant business.
Give him his due, thought Dan, Mike Allport isnât backing off. But he was phoning someone on his mobile. He was getting the police, no doubt. It occurred to Dan that this put him in an awkward position. Aiding and abetting? Or innocent bystander held at gunpoint? âShall I go out and have a word? See what I can do?â
Mr. Bridges turned the gun on him. âDonât move, unless you want a barrel load from this in your backside. Youâre here and here you stay.â
The kneading stopped and a quiet voice said, âSteady, Billy, Danâs not the enemy.â
Mrs. Bridgesâs moderate tones cooled the hot atmosphere a little, but Mr. Bridges kept the gun trained on Dan. âI mean it. They are not ruining years of careful breeding all because they think they have a right. Not one of my birds has died, and if they were going to, they would have done so by now. So you keep right out of it.â
âCan I phone the practice? Theyâll be wondering where I am. Iâve calls to make.â
âVery well.â
Dan went by the window to get a better signal and dialed in. It was Kate who answered his call. âHello, Kate. Dan here. I canât do my calls for the forseeable future today. Can Colin or Zoe do them for me?â
âAre you ill?â
âNo, Iâm at Bridge Farm and weâre under siege.â As casually as he could, he whispered, âGuns, you know.â
âOh! my God! Guns! You mean youâre being held hostage?â
âWell, not quite, but I canât get out and I think Mike Allport has sent for the police.â
âI thought your voice sounded funny. Right. Weâll reorganize things. Let us know as soon as the situation frees up. Take care, Dan. Shall I tell Rose?â
âUnder no circumstances. She mustnât be worried. Do you hear?â
âRight. We wonât phone her. Take care, Dan. Bye.â
The situation didnât free up, as Kate had put it; in fact, it became worse because the police arrived and Dan pointed out to Mr. Bridges the penalty of threatening a police officer with a firearm.
âTo hell with that. This is bureaucracy gone mad, and someone has to take a stand.â
âWhere are the chickens?â
âShut in the big barn at the back with Ben and Gideon on guard. Crack shots they are, like all my boys. Fire!â The salvo of five guns firing at once was deafening.
Mrs. Bridges, placing baking trays and loaf tins in the Aga, said, âHeed what he says. Donât loose your head, Billy.â
âBetter that than dying of shame.â He opened the window farther and shouted out to a uniformed inspector, âThese guns will be put away when those so-and-sos leave my farm. Tell