The Lost Puppy

by Paula Harrison

  “Rosie,” cried Bea. “Come back!” The puppy sped up, her ears flapping as she ran. The rabbit raced into Shilling Wood and Rosie chased after it, disappearing under the dark mass of trees…

  To Scooby,

  the best dog in the world

  Chapter One

  Bea’s Secret Pets

  Bea was woken as usual by a tiny rustling under her bed. Kneeling down, she reached for the cardboard box hidden underneath and carefully lifted the lid. A pink, whiskery nose poked out of the straw inside and two black eyes peeped up at her.

  “Morning, Fluff!” Bea smiled at the little mouse. “Shall I fetch you some more cereal for breakfast?”

  The little mouse scrambled out of the hay and ran round and round in circles.

  Bea laughed. “You must be hungry.” She heard a creak outside the bedroom door. “Back soon!” she whispered, pushing the box back under the bed and jumping to her feet.

  The door swung open and her older sister stomped into the bedroom. Natasha was wearing a blue satin dress and her hair was perfectly smooth and neat. “It’s late!” she snapped. “You should have been up ages ago.” She pulled back the curtains and sunlight poured in.

  Bea glanced out of the window. The truck that brought hay for the horses was driving away from the royal stables. A cloud of seagulls swooped and wheeled in the sky. Beyond the palace wall there was a glimpse of the sea, glittering like blue treasure.

  Bea shrugged. It was annoying when Natasha acted as if she was in charge. “It can’t be that late. Anyway, I am up!”

  Nine-year-old Bea (which was short for Beatrice) was the middle child of the three royal children. Their mother had died from a fever when their brother, Alfie, was little, so they lived at Ruby Palace with their father, King George, and all the royal servants.

  “You’d better hurry up, Bea!” Natasha’s frown deepened. “You know breakfast is at eight o’clock.”

  “I’ll come down in a minute.” Bea hesitated. Had she put the lid back on Fluff’s box properly? She sneakily tried to feel under the bed with her foot.

  “What are you doing?” asked Natasha. But before Bea could answer, a small boy in red pyjamas burst through the door.

  “I dreamt I rode a dinosaur!” said Alfie. “A T-rex with giant teeth. Did you know the largest T-rex tooth ever found was thirty centimetres long?”

  Natasha sighed. “You’re not dressed either! Well, I’m not waiting for you two.” She marched away down the corridor and Alfie dashed after her.

  Shutting the door, Bea knelt down by the bed again. “Sorry, Fluff!” She settled the lid of the mouse’s box into place. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  Bea was mad about animals and her bedroom walls were covered with cute animal posters and pictures that she’d cut out of magazines. She’d spent months and months asking her dad to get her a pet. But, after begging in vain for hamsters, guinea pigs and even a goldfish, Bea began to despair. King George’s reply was always the same: Beatrice, a royal palace is no place for a pet.

  Since then she’d begun secretly looking after any animal that needed a home. It had started with Crinkly, the spider she’d found in the royal kitchen. Bea had saved him from Mrs Stickler, the housekeeper, and found him a home in her bedroom drawer. Then she’d taken Fluff from a lonely hole behind the piano in the dining room.

  Her biggest rescue so far was saving a little kitten who’d got stuck in a tree. Tiger now slept in the laundry room and played in the palace stables during the day.

  Pulling on jeans and a yellow T-shirt, Bea hurried down to breakfast. Halfway down the stairs, she heard feet thudding behind her.

  “Race you!” cried Alfie, dashing past.

  Bea rushed after her brother, overtaking him as she reached the last step. “I won!” she gasped, flinging herself through the dining-room doorway.

  “No, you didn’t!” Alfie grabbed her arm.

  Suddenly Bea realised that her father was sitting at the dining table looking very annoyed. This was bad luck! The king was normally hard at work on royal business by now. She skidded to a halt, her heart thumping. Alfie ran straight into her and they tumbled to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs.

  “Beatrice! Alfred! I expect you to arrive for a meal in a graceful manner.” King George frowned, his thick eyebrows squeezing together. “Beatrice, you’re older and you should be setting your brother a good example.”

  “Sorry!” Bea tried to sit down at the table gracefully.

  Mrs Stickler, the royal housekeeper, brought in a tray of boiled eggs and toast. She set the tray on the table and poured apple juice into three crystal glasses.

  “Children, I have something important to tell you…” began the king. “Lord and Lady Villiers are coming to dinner this evening so you must be on your very best behaviour. They want to find somewhere to live along the clifftop – somewhere with a nice view.”

  Bea looked up. The clifftop above Savara was where her best friend, Keira, lived. Her parents ran the Sleepy Gull Café, which served the best spring rolls in Savara. Bea often went there to play.

  “Natasha and Beatrice – I’d like you to sing the Neravian national song for our guests,” continued the king. “Please practise it today so you’re note-perfect.”

  Mrs Stickler coughed. “Their best clothes have become a little worn, Sire, so perhaps I should fetch the dressmaker. With Mr Wells away, there’s plenty of time for clothes fittings.”

  Bea’s heart sank. Mr Wells, their royal teacher, was on holiday, which meant there were no lessons. She’d hoped to spend the morning playing with Tiger in the stables, not having dress fittings.

  “Thank you, Mrs Stickler.” The king straightened his crown. “Perhaps you can help the prince and princesses with their deportment too. Beatrice and Alfred need to practise proper royal manners.”

  “Deportment! What’s that?” asked Bea.

  Natasha looked smug. “It’s how to act like a princess, silly! You learn how to walk elegantly and that kind of thing.”

  Bea sighed. She didn’t want to be elegant. She just wanted to spend more time with her pets. Sneakily, she gathered a handful of breakfast cereal and hid it down her sock ready to give to Fluff.

  “I’d be happy to help, Sire.” Mrs Stickler turned to the children. “Come to the parlour in half an hour, please.”

  Suddenly Bea heard the faint sound of barking. She looked out of the window eagerly. Was there a dog outside the palace wall?

  The housekeeper bustled out of the room and the king left too, muttering about all the royal business he needed to attend to. The barking came again, ending in a sad whine. Bea listened hard. It sounded as if the dog might be hurt.

  Alfie stopped halfway through dipping toast into his boiled egg. “Did you hear that?”

  Bea frowned at her brother and did a tiny shake of her head. She was desperate to get outside and look for the animal but she didn’t want Natasha guessing where she’d gone. “Yes, it sounds really windy out there. I heard the wind blowing too.”

  “No, I heard a—” Alfie gasped as Bea kicked him under the table.

  Natasha got up and smoothed her dress. “You’re so silly, Bea! I can’t believe you didn’t know what deportment is.”

  Bea pulled a face as Natasha left. Then she rushed to the window. “That bark sounded really close. I’m going to see what kind of dog it is. Don’t tell Natasha!”

  Opening the window wide, Bea climbed on to the sill, swung her legs out and slid on to the flower bed below. She often went outside this way. It meant she didn’t have to pass Mrs Stickler or anyone else who thought she should be sitting still and keeping her clothes neat instead of running around in the garden.

  Bea yanked her jeans free from a thorn and stopped to
listen. A gust of wind lifted her curly hair. The sun beamed down on a tiny lizard that was warming itself on the path. The palace’s round golden towers stretched into the bright-blue sky.

  This time instead of a bark there was a long whimper. Bea’s heart thumped as she ran to the palace wall. The dog definitely sounded sad … but where was it?

  She used the footholds between the bricks to clamber up the wall. A blast of salty air hit her as she reached the top. Out in Savara harbour the boats were sailing in with their catches of fish, and seagulls whirled overhead.

  Bea peered at the road just beyond the wall. There was no sign of a dog. Could it be hidden among the bushes?

  The whining came again and Bea froze. The sound wasn’t outside the wall. That meant the dog must be somewhere in the palace garden!

  Chapter Two

  Big Brown Eyes and Floppy Ears

  Bea peered round the garden, wondering where the dog could be. Nothing was moving in the orchard among the plum trees and lemon trees. Bea listened again but all she could hear were seagulls calling and the distant whinny of a horse in the royal stables.

  Maybe the little dog was in the royal maze or the herb garden! Bea dashed through the archway into the herb garden and peered under the bench. Then she hurried into the orchard and searched among the plum trees. Why did the palace garden have to be so enormous? There were thousands of places a dog could be hiding.

  “Hey, puppy!” she called softly. “Where are you?”

  She’d reached the stables when she heard the whining again and this time it was much fainter. She must be going in the wrong direction. Bea spun round and headed back to the orchard.

  The whimpering noise led her into the herb garden again. Bea frowned. How could the little dog sound so close when she couldn’t see him? She looked behind the clumps of thyme and rosemary. Then she remembered the fountain and leaned over the stone ledge to look inside. Staring up at her was a gorgeous puppy with big brown eyes and floppy ears.

  Her soft fur was a mixture of white and soft bluey-grey.

  “You’re lovely, aren’t you?” said Bea. “What are you doing in there?”

  The dog trembled and backed away a little. Bea noticed the tiny puddle of water at the bottom of the basin. The fountain was only turned on in summer but a pool of rainwater must have collected inside. Maybe the poor thing had jumped in because she was thirsty and then the steep sides of the fountain had stopped her getting out again.

  Bea clambered on to the edge of the fountain. “Don’t worry! I’ll help you.”

  The puppy shivered and gave a little whine. Bea let the little dog sniff her fingers. She wished she had some food the puppy might like. The cereal she’d stuffed down her sock for Fluff wouldn’t be any good.

  Suddenly she felt something warm and rough on her hand. The little dog had licked her! “We must be friends then!” Bea knelt down, ignoring the puddle of water soaking into her jeans. Gently, she stroked the puppy’s white-and-grey coat, which smelled of herbs like the flower beds below. “I wonder where you came from. You definitely shouldn’t be here all by yourself.”

  She scrambled out of the fountain and lifted the puppy into her arms. Scraps of hay were stuck to the dog’s back so she brushed them off. “You poor thing! You’re covered in hay and you’re wet too.”

  Mrs Cherry, the royal gardener, was passing the orchard with one of the grooms. Bea trusted Mrs Cherry. The gardener understood how much Bea loved animals and hadn’t minded at all when she’d made a home for a family of doves in the garden shed a few weeks ago. Cuddling the puppy, Bea went to meet them.

  “Hello, Princess Bea. What a lovely dog!” said Mrs Cherry. “Is she yours?”

  “No, I’ve just found her,” explained Bea. “Do you know if anyone’s lost a puppy?”

  The groom shook his head and Mrs Cherry looked puzzled. “I haven’t seen anyone looking for a dog, but I can ask around for you.”

  “Thank you.” Bea carried the puppy towards the palace. She wanted to get inside and dry the little dog and find her something to eat. The puppy needed to be properly looked after until her owner was found.

  Creeping up to the back door, she peered through the kitchen window. Darou, the palace chef, was singing at the top of his voice while he chopped an onion. Bea knew that if the chef saw an animal in his kitchen he was sure to make a big fuss and call the guards. She stepped back from the window as Mrs Stickler walked into the room. When she peeked again, the housekeeper and the cook had disappeared into the pantry. This could be her chance!

  Slipping through the back door, she went straight to the fridge. What did dogs like to eat? She rummaged through the shelves and the puppy leaned forward to sniff at some chicken slices. “Is that what you’d like?” Bea whispered.

  A snatch of conversation drifted out of the pantry: “… really have to think of something better than mushroom stew. These are important guests, you know.”

  “I decide the menu! No one else will decide.”

  Bea grinned. Chef Darou could get very stressed at times. He was also known for storming off, so she needed to be quick. Grabbing the wrapped-up chicken slices, she stuffed them into her pocket. The puppy gave a hungry whine.

  “It’s all right! These are for you,” murmured Bea, running out of the kitchen.

  Halfway up the stairs she heard footsteps at the top and spotted her sister’s dress through the bannisters. She twisted round, heart racing. She had to find somewhere to hide the puppy. Natasha was bound to say it was against royal rules to bring a dog inside before going straight to tell Mrs Stickler.

  The sound of voices came from the kitchen. Bea hesitated. She was trapped – she couldn’t reach the back door or get upstairs. Dashing into the laundry room, she closed the door, placed the puppy in an empty washing basket and hid the basket behind a pile of sheets.

  There was no sign of Tiger, who slept in there at night. The kitten was probably playing near the stables. Bea suddenly wondered whether Tiger and the little dog would like each other. She’d just given the puppy the chicken slices when the door burst open.

  “What are you doing?” Natasha stuck her hands on her hips.

  Bea jumped. “Nothing! I mean … I was just checking if my favourite dress had been washed.”

  Natasha frowned. “You don’t have a favourite dress. You wear jeans all the time.”

  “I do have a favourite! It’s that blue one with the stars on the front.” Bea coughed to hide the sound of chomping as the puppy ate a slice of chicken. Then she pretended to look through a pile of washing. “Anyway it isn’t here, so—”

  “You’re late,” Natasha interrupted. “The dressmaker needs to measure you.”

  “I’m just coming.” Bea stepped outside and shut the door quickly. Hopefully the puppy would be all right in the laundry basket for a few minutes.

  She followed her sister reluctantly to the parlour. Mr Jennings, a small man with silver spectacles, was waiting there with a tape measure. Alfie was sitting on the sofa looking bored.

  “Sorry, Mr Jennings,” began Bea.

  “There you are, Princess Beatrice!” Mrs Stickler marched in behind them and eyed Bea disapprovingly. “Please stand still to be measured. I’m sure you don’t want to keep Mr Jennings waiting even more than you have already.”

  Bea kicked off her shoes and stood still while the dressmaker measured around her waist. She brushed white dog hairs off her sleeve, hoping Mr Jennings wouldn’t notice.

  Mr Jennings folded up his tape measure. “I have everything I need,” he told the housekeeper. “We’ll get to work on these outfits straight away.”

  “Thank you, Mr Jennings,” said Mrs Stickler. “I’ll see you again this afternoon. All right, prince and princesses. Let me teach you all about deportment.”

  Bea stared at the housekeeper in horror. She’d totally forgotten about the lesson in acting elegant. She couldn’t leave the puppy alone any longer. What if someone found her? What if she chewed the sheets i
n the laundry basket to bits? She had to get back to the little dog right away!

  Chapter Three

  Mrs Stickler’s Deportment Training

  Mrs Stickler handed a book each to Bea, Natasha and Alfie. “The first thing you need to learn is how to walk gracefully. No one wants to see you plodding into dinner tonight like a carthorse.”

  “Or a stegosaurus.” Alfie grinned. “Or maybe a brachiosaurus. They’re huge!”

  Bea turned her book over to look at the title. “Why do I need to read Ships from Olden Days, Mrs Stickler?”

  The housekeeper sighed. “You’re not reading it, Princess Beatrice. You’re placing it on your head.”

  Bea stared. Was Mrs Stickler joking?

  “It makes you stand up straight when you walk.” Natasha placed her own book on her head. “I bet I can do it – easy!” She took dainty little steps, crossing the room with the book perfectly balanced.

  “Well done!” The housekeeper beamed at Natasha. “Now it’s your turn, Princess Beatrice.”

  Bea put the book on her head and it wobbled. She managed a few steps but halfway across the room she heard a whining noise outside the door. It sounded just like the puppy, but how had the little animal got out of the laundry room?

  She strained to listen and suddenly realised that Natasha, Alfie and Mrs Stickler were all staring at her. She tripped over a chair and the book went flying.

  “Princess Beatrice! I really hope you don’t do that this evening.” Mrs Stickler frowned. “Alfie, perhaps you’d better have a go.”

  “I don’t want to do it!” huffed Alfie. “This book is too heavy.”

  Mrs Stickler sighed. “Let me find you another one.”