sounds kind,’ I said. I’d never really thought all that much about the Queen before, but given the luxurious surroundings She gave her dogs, I supposed She must be.
‘She is the kindest human, or owner, any dog could hope to have,’ Willow said, firmly, as if daring me to doubt it.
I didn’t.
‘It was Her mother, you know, who set out our routine.’
‘Her mother?’
‘The Queen Mother,’ Willow clarified, although it still meant nothing to me. ‘She recognised our superior qualities, as a breed, I suppose, and made sure that the Royal Dogs would live a life suited to their status.’
‘Such as baskets raised off the floor?’
‘To avoid draughts.’
‘And I suppose you get all sorts of treat foods and things, right?’ I said hopefully. Maybe something good could come of this adventure, after all. ‘Scraps from the Queen’s table, doggy chocolate drops, that sort of thing?’
Willow looked scandalised. ‘Not at all! We have a very strict diet, developed specially for us and our well-being. She would never dream of doing anything less.’
I sank down onto my haunches. ‘Strict diet’ didn’t sound like a lot of fun, if I was honest.
‘It’s not what you’re used to, of course,’ Willow said. ‘I suppose you must – what? Hunt for your own food? Raid the bins, or what have you?’
Now it was my turn to look horrified. ‘Of course not!’ Although, actually … ‘Well, not if I don’t want to.’
‘So you have an owner, then.’
‘Yes, of course I do. I told you this morning – the Walkers.’
Willow looked at me blankly.
‘My family. Jim and Amy and Jack and Claire.’
Willow gave a small shrug. ‘I thought they were just like our walkers. People who walk us, when She is busy.’
‘They’re much, much more than that,’ I said. ‘They’re like She is to you.’
‘I wouldn’t go that far,’ Willow said.
‘I would.’
‘Hmm.’ She eyed me carefully for a few moments. ‘I suppose you want to get back to them, then.’
‘Very much.’ I’d spent a restless night imagining how they’d all be coping without me. And whether Sookie had stolen my favourite squeaky toy yet. ‘The last place I saw them was just outside the Palace, before we got … separated. I’ve spent today searching for an open door out of here … except I realised, I don’t know where I’d go if I found one. So instead I’m hoping that Amy will keep looking for me, and realise I must be here in the end, and come calling to pick me up.’
‘Which means you have to stay here long enough for that to happen,’ Willow surmised.
‘Exactly.’
She gave a doggy sigh. ‘Well, in that case, I suppose I’d better fill you in on how we do things around here. See if we can stop you standing out quite so much.’
‘Is it really so obvious that I don’t belong here?’ I asked. Surely, when you got down to it, a dog was as good as any other dog, after all.
But Willow laughed. ‘Of course! Only truly special dogs get to live the life of a Royal Pet, you know.’
And, I realised, in Willow’s eyes, I was nothing special at all.
Showed what little she knew, right?
Later, when dinner time came around, I was prepared. And also starving.
Willow had patiently (and patronisingly) talked me through a day at the Palace, giving me a little history along the way. Tomorrow, she promised, she’d take me with her so she could ‘train me up properly’ – a phrase I disliked immediately. After all, the Walkers had already trained me. I didn’t need some posh corgi telling me how to do things.
But then Willow had added, ‘If you’re going to be a Royal Pet, you’re going to have to learn a whole new lifestyle, you realise.’ She surveyed me, and sighed. ‘I’ve never had to work with such raw material before, but I suppose I’ll see what I can do. A good teacher should be able to instruct even the roughest of dogs, and you are, at least, a corgi.’
The one thing we had in common. Our breed. But even that didn’t seem to be enough to satisfy Willow. Willow, I’d realised quickly, was a snob. And her snobbishness had rubbed off on the other two dogs, too.
‘So gracious of you,’ I’d muttered. Oh well. At least following the other dogs around might be more entertaining than being shunned and ignored by them. ‘Now, why don’t you start by telling me about dinner?’
I already knew about the order for eating, but now I understood a little more about why.
‘Normally, we’d eat dinner in Her sitting room, and She’d feed us Herself,’ Willow had explained. ‘But She’s away at the moment, which is why we have the rather unsatisfactory Sarah feeding us instead.’
‘Does She go away often?’ I’d asked.
‘Yes,’ Willow had replied. ‘But normally She takes us with Her.’
I could tell that this was something of a sore point for the other dogs. They weren’t used to being left behind, and the idea that the New Dog, Monty, had got to travel with their beloved Queen when they hadn’t was obviously ruffling their fur.
That could be my way in, I decided. A way to make friends with these dogs. They’d been left behind, too – although not in quite such a spectacular manner as I had. But still, it was the one thing we had in common.
I just hoped it would be enough.
At dinner time, Sarah arrived, smiling again – although her eyes were a little bit red.
‘How are you settling in, Henry?’ she asked, leaning down to pat my head. I nuzzled into her hand, happy for the contact. None of the other dogs had let me close enough to touch them, and none of the footmen or other humans I’d encountered on my jaunt around the Palace had wanted to get near me at all. It was as if they thought I might bite them or something!
But Sarah had no such concerns. She took time to give my ears a good scratching, and when I rolled over onto my back she even rubbed my tummy.
It was the happiest I’d been since I arrived at the Palace. Even if the others were looking on disapprovingly, I didn’t care if I’d broken another rule.
Soon, there was a knock on the door and Sarah said, ‘Time to go!’
We were led along the corridor a little way to outside a door that – according to Willow’s information – must lead to the Queen’s sitting room. Sarah and
