Presenting Pavlova

Chapter Two: Pavlova seeks Permission

Pavlova had no time to pine for her new friend Georgia because she had rather a lot to do. Though she did so hope that Georgia would visit again soon and they would once more share some delicious food.

Meanwhile, she had to find her cousin Cornelius. He’d last been seen at Falcoln Clints, and that was quite a treck from here. She wanted to consult him because she wanted to be married. In sheep years, she was the right age to be married. Being somewhat determined in character, Pavlova strode off in the direction of Falcoln Clints.

“And where are you going, with such importance?” a voice shrieked out.

Pavlova turned around. She knew that voice. Where had it come from? There, between two rocks, partially concealed, stood half-cousin Prunella. Gazing at the skinny legs and part bleached wool, Pavlova tried hard not to sound irritated.

“Nothing to do with you, Prunella,” she managed to say calmly.

“I’ll put two and two together. You’re up to something. You might as well tell me. I’ll put two and two together,” snivelled Prunella.

Pavlova managed to keep walking, concentrating on looking ahead. It was difficult to resist the urge to retaliate to Prunella’s griping, but with head down, Pavlova marched on.

She crossed Cow Green (without any trouble from the cows, for a change) and headed for Falcoln Clints via Widdy Bank. She was very glad she had chosen this route because she came across Cornelius himself here at Widdy Bank, thus saving herself an extra long walk.

“I won’t beat about the bush. His name is Christopher. He is ok. He is slightly straggly in appearance, but not enough to worry about. Shall I marry him?” asked Pavlova.

“Is he Christopher – or Chris?” asked Cornelius.

“What?” stuttered Pavlova. Then she laughed. “I take it that you know him already, Cornelius. Do I take it that you approve of me marrying Christopher?”

“Yes,” replied Cornelius.

That was all Pavlova needed to know, so she started on her journey back. She couldn’t help chuckling, though. Cousin Cornelius had always been wise. Although Christopher was ok, he did have one area of contention and Cornelius had picked this up straight away. Christopher’s name was important to him. He did not like it shortened. Therefore, if anyone called him ‘Chris’, he got very upset. So upset, in fact, that he took to the Cupmarked Rock and cried. When he finished crying, he’d spend an equal amount of time announcing to the world that his name was Christopher.

The news of the wedding spread rapidly. Prunella was livid.

“You should have told me first. You cannot be marrying him! He cannot be marrying you! You are of different stock. I will not allow it,” she stated.

“Cousin Cornelius has already approved,” said Pavlova.

Prunella said no more, but stamped and stomped away. Pavlova tried to take no notice.

“I’d watch out for her,” said Garibaldi. He had always been her friend. They were the same age and had played together as lambs.

“What do you mean, Garibaldi?” she asked.

“Well, she might be jealous. She’s never been married herself, and she is rather old now. She might try to ruin your wedding out of spite,” he stated.

Pavlova was just about to argue, when she saw Christopher approaching. She was just about to wave, when Prunella jumped out at him and shouted:

“Chris! Your name is Chris!”

Immediately Christopher burst into tears and launched himself toward the Cupmarked Rock. Pavlova decided she had better heed Garibaldi’s warning.

It was two hours later when Christopher finally reappeared. He cheered up considerably when he found out that he and Pavlova were to be married. He had liked Pavlova the instant they met and had fallen in love with her five seconds later. She was lovely and he wanted to marry her. His eyes, though red from crying, now twinkled. They sat on the rocks until sundown, making plans for their wedding.

Chapter Three: The Wedding