‘Sorry, it is John, right?’
‘It is.’ The man straightened the plastic until it lay perfectly against the carpet, lined up with the wall on both sides. He didn’t ask her name, I realised. Candy and Vulcan probably wouldn’t approve of that.
But I wasn’t bothered about protocol, right then. Already, I could smell something wonderful. Rabbit, Sarah had said. But this smelled richer, meatier, than any dog food I’d ever sniffed at before.
The man – John – filled the bowls with the juiciest looking food I’d ever seen. My mouth watered just at the sight of it. But I knew from earlier that I couldn’t just dive in and eat – as much as I wanted to.
But what if the others ate my food too? Or dragged out their own meals so long that there wasn’t time for me to eat? I wouldn’t put it past them. It was the sort of thing that Sookie would try – and these dogs reminded me an awful lot of Amy’s cat. (And no, that wasn’t a compliment.)
These thoughts tugged at my brain and, as much as I tried to resist, I couldn’t help lunging forward, desperate to taste the delicious food in front of me.
‘Ah-ah!’ John said, sternly. ‘In order, please.’
Chastised, I slunk back, saliva practically dripping from my jaws. I could hear the other dogs muttering uncomplimentary things about me behind my back.
‘It seems so mean, making them wait,’ Sarah said, as Willow stepped daintily forward to begin her feast. ‘They look so hungry.’
John gave her a scornful look. ‘These dogs are the most spoilt and pampered pooches in the land. Look at them, they eat better than I do!’
‘Don’t you eat here at the Palace too?’ Sarah asked, innocently. ‘I think the food here is just marvellous.’
‘That’s not the point. The point is … they’re dogs, not princes and princesses. They get their special raised baskets, their specially designed menu, all cooked from scratch by the chef with the finest ingredients. They get to go wherever they like in the Palace, with no one to stop them, even when they have their little accidents on the carpets and somebody has to clean up after them. And they get brushed by the Queen herself! Trust me. There’s no need to pity these dogs.’
‘I suppose not,’ Sarah said, but she didn’t sound completely convinced.
Her bowl licked clean, Willow stepped back, and the man called Vulcan forward for his turn. I shifted from paw to paw impatiently.
‘You’ll get used to it,’ John said to Sarah, suddenly. ‘Life here, I mean.’
‘Or I’ll leave,’ she said. ‘I’ve heard it already.’
The man shrugged. ‘It’s not like any other job, working in the Palace. Some people are born to it. Others … aren’t.’ He gave her a sideways look. ‘Of course, you had the family connections, didn’t you?’
‘You mean my godfather,’ Sarah said, and sighed.
‘Butler at Windsor Castle, I heard.’ John raised an eyebrow. ‘Must make it easier, when you’ve got an in like that.’
‘I applied for the position the same as everyone else.’ Sarah sounded offended. ‘And I worked hard to get it, thank you very much.’
John threw up his hands in mock surrender. ‘Okay, okay. Sorry, then.’
Sarah sighed again. ‘No, I’m sorry. It’s just … some of the other girls, they’ve been saying the same thing. Like I can’t ever be one of them, because of who my godfather is.’
‘I wouldn’t worry about them,’ John said, dismissively. ‘They’ll get over it.’
‘Maybe,’ Sarah said, but she didn’t sound very certain.
Finally, after Vulcan and Candy, it was my turn to eat. I waited, panting, for John to give me the signal, then dove onto my bowl. I didn’t care about dinner manners, or protocol. I was starving!
The food was worth waiting for, though. Succulent, tasty – and all coated in a gravy that was like nothing I’d ever tasted before. As I savoured my last mouthful, I remembered that Willow had said that the Queen held the secret recipe for it herself.
No wonder everyone was so in awe of Her. It all made sense now.
I stepped back from my empty bowl, already knowing there wouldn’t be any more. John might think we were spoilt, but I’d give a lot for a doggy chocolate drop right then.
As John and Sarah packed up the plastic sheet, and took the bowls to be washed, the other dogs headed back to our room to sleep off the meal. I trotted along behind, uncertain of what else to do.
‘See you all tomorrow,’ Sarah called to us. I looked back to see John rolling his eyes at her, but Sarah didn’t seem to notice.
That night, as I curled up in my comfortable, draught-free basket, listening to the other dogs snoring and snuffling, I had a thought.
Willow might have spent some time explaining to me how things at the Palace worked, but I was under no illusion that she actually wanted me there. And Candy and Vulcan were even worse. But they weren’t my only options.
If the Palace dogs didn’t want to be my friends just yet, I’d just have to make friends with the humans, instead. Starting with Sarah.
Maybe she could help me get home to my family.
‘No, I understand. Thank you for your time.’ Amy rubbed her forehead as she hung up the phone, sure that the officer on the other end must think she was a complete idiot. Of course she understood that London was a big city, and that finding one small dog in it was an almost impossible task. It was just that the facts didn’t stop her hoping.
What she couldn’t explain to the officer – who probably wouldn’t care even if she could find the words – was that Henry wasn’t just one more dog in a city that was full of them. He was special. Important.
How could she make the authorities understand how empty the house felt without Henry there? How Claire had cried herself to sleep again last night, but without a furry friend to comfort her. How Jack had gone completely silent – and stopped filling the dishwasher now Henry wasn’t there to tackle the plates. How cold and lonely Amy’s bed had been that morning, when there wasn’t a wet little nose pressing against her neck, hoping for some breakfast.
Amy glanced up at the hook where Henry’s lead hung, unused and unnecessary.
How had she never realised how much of a hole Henry would leave behind in their lives? Until now, when it was too late.
The phone in her hand beeped again, and she sank down to sit on the stairs to listen to the voicemail, left when she was on the phone to any one of a number of authorities in Greater London she’d been checking in with throughout the day.
Maybe, just maybe, one of them would be calling back to tell her they’d found
