in the suit to wherever I was sure the Walkers would be waiting for me. My eyes widened the moment I stepped inside, though. I hadn’t really understood what ‘Palace’ meant – except that it was clearly a very big house. But the room we entered wasn’t anything like our hallway at home. For a start, there was no straight staircase heading up, with items belonging to the family strewn on every step, waiting to be returned to their bedrooms. There was no telephone table, with the address book that was good for chewing. No coat rack, with baskets of mismatched shoes underneath.
No hook for a lead, either.
Instead, a huge room spread out from the doorway, with a dark red carpet, lots of dark red chairs and sofas (that I suspected I probably wasn’t allowed on) and huge, tall columns made out of white-ish stone. On the walls were giant pictures of people wearing funny clothes. And in the centre of the room was an enormous Christmas tree, decorated with plush red decorations in the shape of crowns.
It was so imposing, I almost wanted to hide behind the heavy, red and gold curtains. Except then I’d never get back to my family.
‘Well, come on, then,’ the grumpy man said, ushering me forward. ‘If you don’t hurry up you’ll miss your dinner, and then there’ll be hell to pay.’
The man had a point. Amy would not be happy if I made them all so late they missed dinner. And I wouldn’t be very pleased about missing a meal, either. (It wasn’t like I’d actually got to eat the pigeon. And I had been doing an awful lot of running around. It was enough to leave a corgi famished.)
The only problem was, I had no idea where I was supposed to go.
The man sighed again, heavily. ‘Right. You’re the new one. Suppose you haven’t figured out where everything is yet. Come on, then. I’ll take you.’
I’d expected him to lead me straight to another door, and back outside, but instead we walked through ever more impressive rooms to a wide staircase, lined with golden banisters and even more gold on the walls. At the bottom of the stairs was a white statue, next to a huge ornate clock. Long, green garlands decked with shiny baubles trailed up along the banister.
This definitely wasn’t like the Walkers’ house.
‘Right, upstairs, you.’ The grumpy man waved a hand towards the stairs. I stayed sat at the bottom, looking from him to the steps. The Walkers couldn’t be up there, could they? ‘Go on. Up!’
All those puppy training lessons Jim had taken me to kicked in and, at the sound of the order in the grumpy man’s voice, I hopped straight up and onto the first steps.
The man followed behind me as we climbed. I wondered what I was going to find at the top.
Hopefully, my family.
The upstairs corridors were just as ornate, and all decorated for the season. It made me realise that Amy hadn’t even put up the Christmas tree yet this year. Probably because that was something that Jim always used to do.
I was glad to have the grumpy man to follow; without him, I’d have been lost in a heartbeat.
‘Here we go.’ He reached for the handle of the heavy, red door we’d stopped in front of. On it was a sign.
My reading isn’t great. I’d learned a few words: Henry, dog, food and corgi.
The sign definitely said Corgi something.
The door opened, and three other dogs stared at me.
I stared back.
I was guessing the other word on that sign was ‘room’.
It was a room full of corgis.
What on earth had I got myself into now?
‘We saw the Queen!’ Okay, so it had only been the briefest glimpse of a hat, and maybe a corgi’s ear, as the big, black car had pulled away from the Palace, but Claire was still jumping up and down like they’d had a personal audience.
‘And I got the whole thing,’ Jack added, as he stopped filming on his phone. ‘Granny will love this.’
‘She will,’ Amy agreed. Her mother, Granny Freida, was a huge fan of all things Royal. Jack had basically just secured the best Christmas presents for life in return for a viewing of that ninety second film and its half a second shot of Her Majesty.
Really, she couldn’t have planned this day better. The kids were happy and excited, she felt relaxed for the first time in months, and now they’d go and look at the lights and get some dinner, and it would all be lovely and perfect and the magical Christmas she’d been hoping for.
Dr Fitzgerald had been right. Focusing on the future was the way to go.
‘Where’s Henry?’ Jack asked, frowning, and Amy felt all that calm relaxation evaporate in an instant, as she was dragged back to the suddenly frightening present.
‘What do you mean? He was right here …’ Amy glanced down to where Henry had sat at her feet, calm and content, all day. Even in the cold, her palms were sweaty as she checked the lead in her hand. It was a retractable one and it was, of course, fully retracted. No dog attached. Because she’d taken Henry off his lead so he could have a race around St James’s Park, and then—
‘I forgot to put his lead back on.’ Amy’s heart thumped so hard in her chest she thought it might break free. ‘But … but he must be around here somewhere. He wouldn’t just wander off.’
Would he? Henry had been to all the standard puppy training classes, and was usually sensible enough to stay close when things were busy – mostly to make sure he didn’t miss out on any food. But an event like today, with all the noise and the pushing, and in such a strange place … Not to mention his recent habit of escaping out the front door whenever it was open. What if he’d run again?
And where could he have run to?
‘He could be anywhere,’ Jack said, sounding agonised.
She should have been more vigilant. More careful. More attentive. How could she have forgotten his lead? How could she have forgotten Henry, even if just long enough to watch the Queen drive away?
She’d failed him. Failed her family. She’d been an idiot to think she could do all this alone.
Despair gripped her as she looked desperately around her, hoping for the sight of a fluffy, stumpy tail, or a doggy grin.
Nothing.
No. Amy shook her head. She didn’t have time for despair. She had to be a parent again. To take charge.
After all, she was the only one left to do that, now.
‘We need to look for him. Call him,’ she said, thinking her way through a plan. ‘He always comes when he hears his name. Let’s split up. Jack, you take that side of the railings, Claire and I will take this side.’
The crowd was clearing now, as much
