Rule of Three - Mavis Sipple
September 2010
Things always happen in threes, well it did that year thought, John. Divorce, having to sell the house, being made redundant. It had been a horrible time, weeks of not knowing what to do, having to stay with friends, always a bit tricky. Then one morning on one of his solitary walks he had seen the house. The rambling tatty old cottage, which cried out for some love and attention. He copied the phone number from the sign nailed to the skew-whiff gate post. The next day the agent showed him round and he’d made an offer. Then months of cleaning, painting, papering, hard work but well worth the effort, it had begun to feel like home.
One day as he was just starting on the garden the door bell rang. It was Sue the estate agent.
“Hi, hope you remember me?”
“Yes of course.” he replied, thinking, ‘How could I forget someone as gorgeous as you.’
“You won the prize.”
“Prize?”
“Yes you bought some raffle tickets, remember?”
“Oh yes, so I did.” he lied.
“You won first prize. I’ll go and get it from the car.” She came back carrying a large box.
Intrigued, John began to take off the lid. Big mistake, out jumped a small but wildly energetic piglet.
“He’s called Monty.”
“Nice name. What am I supposed to do with it?”
“You could take it to the slaughterhouse, or you could eat it, or you could put it into the old chicken house at the bottom of the garden until you can build it a proper home. He’s very cute. Now just hold him and look happy, I have to take a photo for the paper.”
“We have to catch him first. Easier said than done.”
It was the pig that changed his life. Neighbours came to give their advice, children came to pet the pig and feed him apples, Dave the builder came and helped build a proper pig pen.
Sue turned up again with another box.
“As you don’t need the chicken run now I thought you might like these.”
‘These’ were the most bedraggled, threadbare chickens John had ever seen.
“I rescued them from the battery farm.” Sue lifted them out of the box; the moth eaten birds stood where they were put, blinking and looking confused.
“They don’t know what to do, they’ve never had space to move about.” It didn’t take long for them to get the hang of running and scratching and laying eggs anywhere they fancied.
Next came two rescue kittens and a small dog found in a sack by the river bank. John decided the only way to stop her bringing these strays was to ask her to move in with him and help look after them.
Now after three years of hard work the outhouse was converted into a studio for a local artist, the attic had been turned into an office where John ran his IT business. Things were happening in threes again, new house, new business, new wife. He felt justly pleased with himself as he stepped out into the sunny garden where Sue was playing with the triplets.