Emmeline and the Plucky Pup

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Emmeline and the Plucky Pup Page 5

by Megan Rix


  Rascal wagged her tail and jumped off Miss Billinghurst’s lap to catch one of the trailing ribbons.

  ‘Oh, go on then, wee doggie, you can play with it,’ The General said.

  Rascal gave the ribbon in her mouth a good shake while making happy puppy growling sounds.

  ‘Better use this,’ The General said, bringing the bike over to Alfie. ‘Faraday House isn’t hard to find on a bicycle. You just cycle through Richmond Park, then Bushy Park and you can’t miss it when you reach Hampton Court Green.’

  Alfie looked down at the bike and then back up at The General.

  ‘For me?’ he said, unable to quite believe it. He’d never had his own bicycle before, although Harry had taught him to ride his.

  ‘You’ll get to Hampton Court in less than half the time,’ The General said. ‘Should take you about an hour if you don’t dilly-dally. And keep hold of it when you’re done today. You never know when you might need it for other missions.’

  Alfie grinned and lifted Rascal into the fish basket on the back.

  ‘See you soon, Alfie,’ the suffragettes said as they too got on their bicycles.

  ‘See you soon!’ Alfie called back, smiling at The General. ‘And thank you.’

  ‘You’re most welcome, Alfie,’ she said.

  ‘That’s it, you stay in your basket,’ Alfie told Rascal. He pushed down on the pedals, which he could only just reach, and they sped towards Hampton Court, with Rascal lifting her head to feel the breeze rushing through her fur.

  Chapter 6

  NOVEMBER 1910

  Alfie had never been to Hampton Court Palace before, but he had heard of it. Mrs Goulden loved history and she’d told his class at Hazelwood School all about how the magnificent palace had been built for Cardinal Wolsey, but King Henry VIII had taken it from him and kept it for himself.

  As Alfie cycled through Richmond Park, Rascal stood up in her basket to look at the red deer but fortunately didn’t jump out. They didn’t see any more deer until they went through Bushy Park, and this time Rascal was brave enough to give a high yap. The deer looked over at her, gave a flick of their short tails and then went back to eating grass.

  Alfie grinned to himself, sure that the puppy would have run off terrified if the deer had headed towards them.

  They’d been cycling for just over an hour when Alfie caught his first glimpse of the magnificent palace. Because the bicycle The General had given him was a bit too big, he wobbled as he came to a halt and only just managed to get one foot on the ground to stop it from toppling over. Rascal made a little sound of fear at the sudden unsteadiness of her basket.

  Alfie stared up at the huge and imposing red brick palace. He counted twenty square windows along the top, twenty round ones beneath them, then forty rectangular ones divided into two rows below those, and that was just the part of the palace that was facing him.

  A boy with three small dogs and two big ones appeared in the distance. Alfie thought the boy looked about the same age as him so he raised a hand to wave and the boy waved back. As soon as Rascal saw the boy and the dogs, she gave a yap of delight, jumped out of the bicycle basket and went haring across the grass towards them.

  ‘Rascal, come back!’ Alfie shouted.

  But Rascal was too excited to listen and she didn’t return. Alfie laid the bike on the grass and ran after her.

  ‘I’m Manna Singh,’ the boy said when Alfie reached him. ‘Who are you, and what is your puppy’s name?’

  ‘I’m Alfie,’ Alfie told him. ‘And my puppy’s called Rascal.’

  ‘Because she can be a rascal?’ the boy asked.

  ‘Yes!’ Alfie laughed and Manna laughed too.

  ‘She’s just a puppy,’ Manna said.

  Alfie nodded. ‘I’m here to show something to Princess Sophia Duleep Singh,’ he said. He was still more than a bit worried about meeting a princess and not sure if he was supposed to call her your majesty, or princess, or what exactly. ‘Do you know which of these houses is Faraday House?’ he asked, pointing at the grand houses across the road opposite the green.

  Manna grinned.

  ‘What is it?’ Alfie asked.

  ‘My father is Princess Sophia Duleep Singh’s kennel master and the dogs Rascal is so happily playing with are the princess’s prized Pomeranians and Borzois. The princess’s great-grandfather was a kennel master called Manna too – or at least he was a kennel master until his daughter, Jindan, married Maharajah Ranjit Singh, the great king of the Sikh empire. I’m named after Manna and so is my dad.’

  ‘I’m named after my dad as well,’ Alfie said. ‘Although I never met him.’

  He often wondered what his father had been like. But when he’d asked Daisy about him, all she could really remember was him singing her a lullaby when she was little.

  ‘So which one is the princess’s house?’ Alfie asked.

  ‘That one with the pink flowers growing up it,’ Manna said, pointing to a three-storied house. ‘But she isn’t there now. My dad drove her to London to appear at Bow Street Magistrates’ Court along with the other suffragettes who were arrested yesterday.’

  As Manna was speaking, a shiny black car pulled up and the princess’s dogs, followed by Rascal, started racing across the grass towards it. A small lady bundled up in a fur coat, wearing a hat with purple feathers, got out of the car.

  ‘That’s her – that’s the princess!’ Manna said, and he started running after the dogs, with Alfie right behind him.

  ‘Hello, Alfie,’ the woman said in a soft voice when they reached her. Alfie recognized her as the lady who’d helped to rescue Rascal from the horses’ hooves outside the Houses of Parliament the day before.

  ‘Your Highness,’ said Manna, giving a small bow.

  ‘Oh – oh,’ said Alfie, suddenly not able to speak. ‘I didn’t know it was you … I’m sorry … your Highness.’

  The princess gave Rascal a stroke. ‘And how are you, dear little Rascal?’ she asked the puppy.

  ‘A lot cleaner than the last time you saw her.’ Alfie laughed and then got embarrassed again because he was talking to a real-life princess.

  To his surprise, the princess chuckled softly.

  ‘No road apples today,’ she said.

  Rascal rubbed her face against the princess’s soft coat.

  ‘She is such a lovely, friendly little pup.’

  The princess’s warm smile made Alfie feel brave enough to ask her about her trip to court. ‘What happened at the trial this morning?’ he ventured.

  ‘Winston Churchill ordered that all the charges against the suffragettes who were arrested yesterday be dropped, but I’m still going to write and complain about the police violence,’ she said. ‘Someone could have been killed.’

  Rascal wagged her tail to agree but the next moment she was pushed out of the way by one of the Pomeranians.

  ‘And you’re lovely too,’ Princess Sophia said to it. ‘And you and you,’ she added, giving each of the dogs a stroke in turn.

  ‘Mrs Pankhurst wanted you to see this picture in the Daily Mirror showing the truth about what happened yesterday – if you haven’t seen it already,’ Alfie said, pulling the newspaper from inside his coat.

  Princess Sophia gave a gasp as she looked at the picture.

  ‘That poor woman! I can almost feel her terror.’

  Rascal nudged the princess’s hand with her head and Princess Sophia petted her.

  ‘But I’m very glad you were found on that day, Rascal, and were unharmed. Very glad indeed,’ she said. ‘Who’s next on your list to see the paper, Alfie?’

  ‘Mrs Pankhurst’s daughter Sylvia in the East End, then to the West End to show her other daughter, Christabel, at the WSPU headquarters, then Ada Wright at Westminster Mansions, Ernestine Mills, Evelina Haverfield at Yorke Street, Mrs Fawcett, and finally Mrs Brackenbury and her daughters at Campden Hill Square, before I head back to Nurse Pine’s nursing home,’ Alfie told her. ‘We’re going home to Mr and Mrs Goulden’s
house tomorrow. I just hope they won’t mind having Rascal living with them too.’

  ‘I’m sure they won’t,’ Princess Sophia reassured him, as she opened her handbag and took out her purse.

  Alfie wasn’t so sure. Maybe Daisy was right – but he didn’t want her to be. At least Mrs Pankhurst had given her approval.

  ‘I want to send you back with a donation for the WSPU,’ the princess said, and she handed Alfie a five-pound note, and then added a penny to it.

  ‘Make sure you give Mrs Pankhurst the penny too. Donations ending in a one are said to be lucky in India.’

  Alfie promised he would and the princess gave him two more pennies.

  ‘One for you, and one for you to spend on dear little Rascal.’

  ‘Thank you, your Highness,’ Alfie said.

  ‘I will write to you and hope to see you again very soon,’ Manna said, as Alfie gave each of the princess’s dogs a stroke and Rascal wagged her tail goodbye.

  By the time Alfie had shown the paper to everyone on Mrs Pankhurst’s list, it was after seven o’clock at night. Rascal had fallen asleep in her bicycle basket as Alfie cycled up to the nursing home. She was so tired that Alfie had to carry her inside, but she immediately woke up at the delicious smell of the chicken and vegetable stew Daisy had waiting for them.

  Chapter 7

  DECEMBER 1910

  Every morning Rascal raced to the front door of Mr and Mrs Goulden’s house as soon as she heard the gate open and boots walking up the garden path.

  ‘Morning, Rascal!’ the postman called out from the other side of the door.

  Rascal had first met the postman on the morning after she’d arrived with Alfie and ever since then had made a point of greeting the strange man who put paper things through the hole in the door but didn’t knock or come in.

  Now she stood up on her back legs and wagged her tail as the letters landed with a soft plop on the doormat.

  Usually Alfie picked the letters up before she could get to them.

  ‘No toothmarks or slobber on them, thank you,’ he’d say.

  But today he was still in the kitchen. Rascal scratched at the letters with her paws and managed to pick one up in her mouth. She trotted to the kitchen with it, very proud of herself.

  Alfie’s mouth fell open when he saw her.

  ‘What have you got there?’

  Rascal dropped the letter on the floor. Then sat down and looked up at Alfie with her head to one side.

  ‘Good puppy!’ Alfie said, and he gave her a stroke and the corner of his toast and marmalade. ‘It’s from Manna,’ he told Daisy, who was making more toast, as he tore the envelope open. It was the third letter Manna had written to him in the past five weeks.

  My dear friend Alfie,

  I hope you and Rascal are well and enjoying the icy weather. (I am not.) My father says there are places in India where you can find snow but I prefer the sun! I hope you get many wonderful presents for Christmas and that I see you in the New Year.

  Your friend,

  Manna Singh

  Alfie immediately wrote back:

  Dear Manna,

  Merry Christmas and New Year to you too.

  Rascal and I are very well. She has a new basket in the kitchen that Mr Goulden bought for her and she loves to curl up in it.

  Next year has a one at the end of it – so I expect it will be a very lucky year!

  Alfie chewed the end of his pencil as he remembered how worried he’d been that Mr and Mrs Goulden wouldn’t like Rascal. But it had turned out that they didn’t just like her – they loved her, and so did their three-year-old daughter, Joan. Rascal loved them too, and their big garden, and next door’s friendly ginger cat, who came to visit sometimes.

  The doorbell rang and Rascal trotted after Daisy as she went to answer it. Two men stood outside with a small tree that smelt unlike any other tree Rascal had smelt. She sniffed and sneezed at the pine smell.

  ‘Where would you like it?’ one of the men asked Daisy.

  ‘In the drawing room,’ Daisy told them.

  ‘Righty-ho,’ the man said.

  Rascal scampered along beside them, wagging her tail, before running to the kitchen to find Alfie.

  ‘Alfie, can you help decorate the Christmas tree?’ Daisy called from the drawing room.

  Alfie hurried to help, with Rascal almost dancing along behind him. The rest of his letter to Manna would have to wait until later.

  Rascal caught the smell of mice coming from the box of Christmas decorations on the floor. She put her nose into the box as soon as it was opened. But the mouse family had long gone, and there were only glass baubles and angels left.

  ‘Out of the way, Rascal,’ Alfie said.

  Rascal sneezed again at the pine smell and watched as Daisy and Alfie carefully placed the decorations on the Christmas tree.

  ‘Holly next,’ Daisy said.

  Next door’s cat watched from the fence as they cut holly from the garden to decorate the drawing room.

  Rascal came out with her ball but Alfie was too busy to play.

  ‘Not now, Rascal,’ he said, hurrying back inside with his arms full of holly branches.

  Rascal ran to the front door to greet Mrs Pankhurst and her sister Mary when they arrived late in the afternoon. Mary had only recently been let out of Holloway prison and Alfie thought she looked very pale and tired when he opened the door

  ‘Emmeline and Mary,’ Mr Goulden said, as he kissed his two older sisters on the cheek. ‘It’s so good to have you here for Christmas.’

  ‘Come on into the warm,’ Mrs Goulden said, as Rascal, very excited, danced around them all.

  ‘Sylvia was so entranced by little Rascal when she met her that she made her this,’ Mrs Pankhurst said, pulling a purple, white and green dog collar and matching lead from her handbag and giving them to Alfie.

  Rascal rubbed her face against Mary’s long coat and looked up at her.

  ‘You know, Rascal really looks as if she’s smiling sometimes,’ Mary said.

  ‘I know,’ laughed Alfie, looking down at Rascal’s sweet funny little face.

  Alfie was smiling and Mrs Pankhurst and Mary were stroking her, so Rascal felt she must have done something good, even though she wasn’t sure what.

  ‘And sometimes if Rascal wants something really badly, like me to play ball with her, she’ll give me a big cheeky grin!’ Alfie added.

  At the sound of the word ‘ball’, Rascal looked over at the door that led to the kitchen, where she kept her ball in her basket, and then back up at Alfie. Were they going for a walk?

  ‘Seeing her funny smiling face makes my heart sing,’ Mary said.

  Rascal was very excited when Daisy brought in tea and sandwiches and ginger cake. The last time she’d met Mary, she’d given her a saucer of tea. Rascal watched Mary closely as she drank her first cup, willing her to give her some.

  ‘Oh, Rascal, poor Mary hasn’t had a decent cup of tea for the past month while she’s been in prison, and now you want to share it with her!’ Mrs Pankhurst scolded as Mary poured some of her tea into the saucer and gave it to the puppy.

  Rascal lapped it all up and then looked directly at Mary and wagged her tail.

  ‘Prison would have been a lot easier if I could have had you there with me,’ Mary told Rascal as she gave her a stroke. ‘You would have made the other suffragettes suffering there laugh too.’

  ‘We have to keep fighting until every little girl born has the same rights as her brothers,’ Mrs Pankhurst said, squeezing her sister’s hand.

  ‘Yes, we do,’ agreed Mr Goulden, coming into the drawing room carrying little Joan.

  ‘Whatever the cost,’ agreed his wife, Laura, behind him. Joan stretched out her hand to Rascal, who she loved to play with.

  Mary nodded as she slowly sipped her second cup of tea, with Rascal watching her.

  Mr and Mrs Goulden were strong supporters of Votes for Women and held meetings at Hazelwood School in the evenings. Alf
ie and Daisy helped by looking after little Joan, making tea and serving sandwiches and cakes, taking hats and coats and showing people to their seats.

  It didn’t seem fair to Alfie that some people were allowed to vote and others weren’t. But then he thought a lot of things weren’t fair – like being sent to the workhouse because his mum couldn’t afford to pay the rent after his dad died.

  There was usually a reporter and often a photographer from one of the newspapers at the Hazelwood School meetings, as well as the police. Sometimes the meetings turned rowdy and people started singing or shouting to drown out the speakers, and a few times eggs and flour had been thrown. Alfie had been glad the police were there then, even if it did feel like they were spying on the suffragettes.

  Rascal woke up on Christmas Day to a kitchen full of the most delicious meaty smell coming from the oven. It was so good that she went and sat next to the oven, drooling.

  ‘Rascal, you’re getting in the way,’ Daisy told her.

  Rascal moved away for a little while but then went to sit next to it again.

  Late in the morning she was given her first taste of turkey.

  ‘Not too much, now,’ Alfie said. ‘Too much isn’t good for your tummy.’

  Rascal looked down at her empty bowl and then up at Alfie and gave a whine.

  ‘Walkies?’ Alfie said, and he opened his hand to reveal the new red ball that he’d bought for her with the money from Princess Sophia. Rascal looked at the ball and then at Alfie as if to say, is it really for me?

  ‘Yes, it’s for you. It’s your Christmas present,’ Alfie said.

  Rascal looked at the ball again and wagged her tail.

  ‘Let’s go,’ said Alfie, and Rascal trotted after him wearing the new collar that Sylvia Pankhurst had made for her.

  At nearby Grovelands Park, Alfie threw the ball for Rascal and she chased it across the grass. There were no other dogs in the park for her to play with today and the ducks had all disappeared on to the island in the centre of the boating lake.

  Rascal put her tongue out to taste the white flakes that started to float down from the sky. Soon she was racing around, biting and snapping at them.

 

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