by Holly Webb
“Here, Molly. A nice new lead, look.” She tied one corner of the bandanna through the strong metal ring on Molly’s collar and stood up, keeping a tight hold on the other end. “That’ll do… Come on, Molly! Let’s go and take you home!”
Molly walked along beside Anya as they headed up the stepped path to the top of the cliff. She sniffed happily at the clumps of wild plants that were growing out over the concrete steps and Anya smiled down at her proudly. She was so lovely, even if she was a bit scruffy. As they walked along the seafront path, Anya couldn’t help pretending to herself that Molly was her own dog. She could imagine it for five minutes, couldn’t she?
But the walk to the ice-cream shop was far too short. Soon Anya was standing outside and staring at the closed shutters. If it had still been open, she could have nipped in to ask if they happened to know where Rachel’s family were staying, seeing as Rachel reckoned they were the shop’s best customers.
“There’s a lot of houses along here, Molly,” Anya murmured, looking around at the little green, surrounded by cottages. “I suppose I’m just going to have to ring the doorbells and ask.” But she stood on the grassy patch for a little while, hoping she’d suddenly spot Rachel. She hated the thought of having to ask at all those houses. She’d told Mum and Dad she wouldn’t talk to strangers, for a start. And what if Rachel’s family weren’t even staying in one of them? Maybe they were in one of the streets close to the green?
Anya sighed. She was just going to have to be brave. She marched over to the nearest house and rang the bell. There were buckets and spades in the little doorway, so at least there were children here.
The door opened and Anya found herself staring at a boy a bit older than her – but it definitely wasn’t Zach. And there was a littler boy peering round him, too.
“Oh! Sorry! Wrong house,” Anya stammered. “Um, I don’t suppose you know where Zach and Rachel are staying, do you?”
“No,” the boy said, staring at her as though she was mad.
“Sorry…” Anya backed away, blushing scarlet and gently tugging Molly after her.
“I should have explained why I was asking,” Anya muttered to Molly, as they went on to the next house. “Oh, that was so embarrassing.”
No one answered at the following two houses – which Anya was secretly relieved about. The next door was opened by a friendly looking lady, who smiled at Molly and said, “Oh, what a sweet dog.”
“She isn’t mine,” Anya said, grateful that the lady had made it easy for her to explain. “I found her on the beach, but I know who she belongs to and I’m pretty sure they’re staying round here. They told me they were in a cottage by the ice-cream shop. No one’s asked about a dog, have they? There’s three children – a boy and two girls.”
The lady looked at the houses around the green, thoughtfully. “It’s very nice of you to try to bring her home. I wonder if it’s Mrs Merritt’s family? I know they were staying with her and she does have three grandchildren. She told me she was going to have trouble squashing them and their dog all in, especially now her grandson’s so tall.”
“Oh!” Anya said delightedly. “That sounds right! Zach is really tall. Where does she live, please?”
“That white house over there in the corner. Good luck! If you don’t find her owners, do you know where the vet’s surgery is? I’m sure they’d help you out – it’s on the high street.”
“Thanks!” Anya beamed at her. “Come on, Molly.” She patted her leg and Molly scampered after her across the green to the white house. Anya hurried up the little path between the bright flowerbeds and rang the doorbell firmly, not feeling as nervous as she had before. She was sure this had to be the right place, even though Rachel hadn’t mentioned that they were staying with their grandma.
The door took a long time to be answered, though. Wasn’t that a bit odd? Wouldn’t Rachel or Zach or Lily have run to get it? Perhaps they were out? In fact, they were probably out looking for Molly. Anya sighed and pressed the bell one last time, just in case.
The door swung open sharply and a very cross-looking elderly lady stared out at Anya.
“What is it? Couldn’t you tell that I was coming? I was asleep – so rude!”
“Oh… Oh, I’m really sorry.” Anya backed away and so did Molly, with a little whimper. “The lady across the road thought this might be your grandchildren’s dog – she said they were staying with you.”
“Of course it isn’t. They have a Jack Russell. And they went home yesterday. Silly woman.”
“I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up. I was just trying to find the dog’s owners, that’s all.” Anya swallowed, trying not to cry. The old lady seemed so grumpy.
“Hmm. Well, I hope you find them.” The old lady looked slightly less annoyed. “There are children in the house next door but one, that way – why don’t you try there?”
Anya nodded. “Thank you,” she said, hurrying off as fast as she could and ringing the bell at the house the old lady had pointed to.
She had to stand on the step for a few moments, but when the door opened, it was worth the wait. “Oh, thank goodness it’s you!” she gasped, as Rachel peered round the door in front of her.
“Have you come to see us? It’s Anya,” Rachel called back into the house. “My friend from the beach, Mum.” Rachel smiled at Anya and then looked down at Molly. “Oh! You’ve brought Molly, too.”
She looked a little bit puzzled, Anya thought. “Hadn’t you noticed she was gone?” she asked Rachel. Molly had been out since the middle of the afternoon! It did seem strange that they hadn’t noticed.
Rachel frowned. “Gone where?”
“She was running along the beach this afternoon, but I couldn’t catch her,” Anya explained. “I told Mum and Dad I was going to see the sea, so I could have another look for her. She must have slipped out earlier on – or maybe you left her on the beach,” she added doubtfully. She couldn’t imagine being that careless, but Rachel didn’t seem to have a clue where her dog was…
“We haven’t been to the beach,” Rachel said slowly. “We went to an adventure park. We’ve only just got back.”
Anya nodded. “She slipped out, then.” She crouched down and rubbed Molly’s poor scruffy ears that needed brushing so badly. She was almost tempted not to give Molly back…
Rachel crouched down, too, and Molly sniffed her fingers in a friendly sort of way. Anya watched, frowning a little. Molly didn’t seem that excited to see her owner.
“Anya, I don’t understand.” Rachel looked at her over Molly’s head. “Why would we notice Molly had gone? And gone where?”
“Don’t you care about her at all?” Anya felt her eyes filling with tears. How could Rachel not even be worried that Molly had been out on her own all day? She could have been run over! “She’s your dog! You’re supposed to look after her!”
Rachel simply stared at her for a moment. Then she shook her head. “No, she isn’t,” she said slowly.
“What?”
“She’s not our dog, Anya.” Rachel frowned. “She doesn’t belong to us. We don’t even have a dog.”
“But she was with you on the beach!” Anya looked down at Molly, who was watching them anxiously.
The little dog wagged her tail, very faintly. She could tell they were getting cross with each other, Anya realized and she patted Molly’s ears gently. “It’s OK,” she murmured. Then she looked up at Rachel. “She’s really not yours? I was so sure… She was with us all that afternoon. And you knew her name – you told me she was called Molly!”
“Yes, because it’s on her collar.” Rachel pointed to the name, woven into the fabric. “She was watching us playing in the sea and then she just tagged along. She was so gorgeous – but I thought she belonged to those teenage boys who were sitting further up the beach. I was sure she did.” Rachel frowned. “I thought they were mean, not playing with her… And they didn’t seem to mind her being with us, so I just kept fussing over her.”
“Oh, wow,” Anya muttered. “I suppose I just thought she was yours because of the way you apologized about her knocking over my tower. Sorry,” she added. “I was really telling you off just now. You must have thought I was mad!”
“That’s all right,” said Rachel. “I would have done the same if I thought you weren’t looking after your dog. But how did you find us? I never told you the address of the cottage, did I? I wished I’d thought of giving you Mum’s mobile number, so we could meet up on the beach again. I was so cross with myself last night when I realized I couldn’t even call you!”
Anya sighed. “You told me you were staying near the ice-cream shop, so I knocked on doors. It was so embarrassing. And the old lady two doors down was really angry with me!”
“Ooooh, she exploded at Lily the other day because she spilled sand out of her bucket on to the pavement. I think she’s just a bit grumpy. Poor you.” Rachel put her arm round Anya’s shoulders and gave her a hug. “I’m sorry you got into trouble.”
Anya smiled at her, but then her smile faded. “It doesn’t matter – but, Rachel, if Molly doesn’t belong to you, then whose dog is she?”
“I don’t know.” Rachel looked worriedly at Molly. “I suppose I just thought she belonged to those boys, the same way you thought she was ours. I never actually saw them call her or anything…”
“Do you think she could be a stray and that maybe she doesn’t belong to anyone? She’s ever so scruffy. Sorry, Molly, you’re beautiful, but you are scruffy,” Anya told her. “I mean, she needs grooming really badly and she’s covered in sand.”
“She’s too thin, as well,” Rachel pointed out.
Anya ran her hand over Molly’s domed head and Molly panted at her happily. “So – do you think she’s a stray?”
“Maybe…” Rachel nodded. “It seems that way, doesn’t it?”
“Poor Molly,” Anya whispered. “I wonder what happened – she’s so lovely and she’s still only a puppy.”
“Perhaps she got lost when her owners were here on holiday,” Rachel suggested sadly. “And they went home without her.”
“That’s awful…” Anya swallowed. “What am I going to do? I thought I was bringing her home and now it seems she doesn’t have a home at all.”
“Rachel, are you two all right out there?” Rachel’s mum came out of the kitchen. “Hello, Anya. That’s a sweet little dog. You had her with you on the beach, didn’t you?”
Rachel and Anya looked at each other and started to laugh. “Mum, Anya thought Molly was ours. She’s brought her back! And now we don’t know who she belongs to.”
“Oh!” Anya looked down at her watch. “I have to get back. I told Mum and Dad I’d only be a few minutes. I was just supposed to be going to look at the sea.”
“They’ll be terribly worried about you,” Rachel’s mum said, in a horrified sort of voice that made Anya feel much worse. “We’d better take you home at once.” She called out that she’d be back soon and closed the front door behind her. Then she hurried the girls and Molly down the street.
“Where are you staying, Anya?” she asked. “Can you remember the way?”
“Oh yes. It’s one of the cottages on the front, by the sea. I can go back by myself, honestly.”
But Rachel’s mum shook her head. “No, it’s all right, I’m sure you could, but I want to make certain that you get home safely.”
“Mum,” Rachel put in suddenly. “If Molly’s a stray, and we think she must be, can we keep her?”
Anya gasped – it was exactly what she had been thinking. If only she had said something first!
But Rachel’s mum shook her head firmly. “No, of course not. For a start, the cottage has a no-pets rule. And what would Alfie think if we came home and got him out of the cattery and there was a dog in his house? He’d probably walk out!”
Rachel sighed. “I suppose so.”
Anya took a deep, shaky breath and wrapped her hand more tightly around Molly’s makeshift lead. Until Rachel had spoken, she’d only had the idea in the back of her mind, but how amazing would it be if Molly could be hers? After all, no one else seemed to want her… Why shouldn’t they keep her?
“Would you like to stay with me?” she whispered to Molly, as she saw their cottage and hurried ahead. “Would you like to be my dog?” She knocked lightly on the front door of the cottage – the last thing she wanted to do was wake up Jessie. She needed Mum and Dad in the best mood possible.
The door swung open at once and Mum grabbed her into a hug. “Anya, where have you been? You said you’d only be a few minutes. I was about to go out looking for you!”
“Sorry, Mum…”
“Anya’s actually been really resourceful,” Rachel’s mum put in. “She found this dog and she worked out where we’d been staying, so she could bring the poor little thing back to us. Only the dog isn’t actually ours.”
“Is that the dog you were looking for earlier, Anya?” Dad asked, peering over Mum’s shoulder.
“Yes, but she doesn’t belong to the other family. We don’t know who she belongs to at all.” Anya crouched down and picked Molly up, showing her to Mum and Dad. “She’s so lovely, I can’t see how anybody would abandon her.”
“I’m sorry we can’t look after her ourselves until her owner is found,” Rachel’s mum explained. “But we had to sign a no-pets agreement for our cottage.”
“I think pets are allowed in this one,” Dad said slowly. “But we can’t have a dog here – what about Jessie?”
“Molly’s really friendly, Dad,” Anya explained. “She wouldn’t snap at Jessie.”
“She was very patient with the children on the beach the other day,” Rachel’s mum agreed.
“Couldn’t we just look after her for a couple of days, Dad?” Anya suggested hopefully. “I could take her to the vet’s to see if anyone’s reported her lost. And put posters up about her.”
She didn’t say what she was really thinking, which was, And then if no one knows about her, maybe we can just take her home with us…
Molly was lying on an old picnic rug that Anya had found in one of the cupboards in the living room. She was very sleepy, mostly because she was full. It was the strangest feeling, not to be hungry. She couldn’t remember the last time she hadn’t been desperate for food.
Anya and her dad had gone to the supermarket to get some dog food on their way to the fish and chip shop. Jessie had fallen asleep at last, but her tooth was still making her really miserable. Anya had begged Dad to let her buy a comb as well. She wanted to try and get rid of the worst of the tangles from Molly’s coat.
So now Molly was well fed and a bit less sandy and scruffy. There were still a lot of knots in her fur, though, as the comb hadn’t been up to it and several of its teeth had snapped off.
“I’ll buy you a proper dog-grooming brush when I go to the vet’s tomorrow,” Anya had told Molly, as she’d hugged her goodnight. Then she gave a tiny sigh. “I know I ought to hope that the vet knows who you belong to, but I really don’t. I want you to belong to me.” She gave Molly one last pat and went off upstairs.
Molly stared after her, wondering where Anya was going. She stayed on her blanket, but she kept her eyes on the stairs, watching until she fell asleep. She woke again a couple of hours later to find the house dark and quiet. She was all alone downstairs. Molly lay on the rug for a while, with her head on her paws. She was still sleepy, but she wanted to know where everyone was. Molly had lived without an owner for months now and it had felt so good to have Anya fussing over her. She had enjoyed having her fur combed, too, even when the comb caught in all the tangles and pulled. Somebody wanted her. Somebody cared enough about her to tidy her up and make her a comfy bed.
Molly got up and went to sniff at the bottom of the stairs. They were all up there, she thought. All of a sudden, Molly was desperate to see that Anya hadn’t disappeared. It had happened before, after all… People had gone away and left her. Quickly, she padded up the stairs
, sniffing for Anya’s room. She found it almost at once, poking her nose round the door.
Anya turned over as her bedroom door creaked open and peered sleepily at the puppy. “Hello, Molly!” she whispered. “Did you come to find me? Aren’t you clever? Oh, you’re such a good dog.”
Molly scurried over to the bed. Anya leaned down to pat her and make a fuss. “Molly, come on,” she murmured. “Come on up here, good dog… That’s it!” She giggled delightedly, as Molly scrambled up on to the end of the bed and curled up blissfully by her feet. It was just the way she’d dreamed having a dog would be.
“So, they didn’t leave a number?” Anya asked the vet’s receptionist. She hated it that Molly’s owners didn’t seem to have looked after her properly. Even though the receptionist was almost sure that the people she remembered coming in to ask about their lost dog had been talking about Molly, she said they were in a rush and hadn’t left her their phone number. Molly wasn’t microchipped, either.
Secretly though, Anya couldn’t help feeling relieved. If the vet did have a way to contact Molly’s real owners, Anya would have to give her back. And that was getting harder and harder to imagine.
“There’s an animal shelter in Westerby,” the receptionist went on, handing Anya a leaflet. “I’m afraid we can’t take stray dogs here, although I’d love to. She looks like a little treasure.”
“She is sweet,” Anya’s dad agreed. “I wouldn’t mind keeping her, but we’ve got a small baby, so I just don’t think it’s a good idea.” He looked over Anya’s shoulder at the leaflet. “Mmm. I suppose we’ll have to take her there, then. I’d better call your mum.”
“Can’t we wait a bit?” Anya asked, crossing her fingers in the folds of her skirt and doing her best pleading-eyes look at Dad. “We still don’t know for certain that Molly belonged to those people. It could have been another dog. Me and Rachel are going to make notices to put up, to tell everybody that we’ve found her.”