Henry the Queen's Corgi

by Georgie Crawley

  I already knew about the order for eating, but now I understood a little more about why.

  ‘Normally, we’d eat dinner in Her sitting room, and She’d feed us Herself,’ Willow had explained. ‘But She’s away at the moment, which is why we have the rather unsatisfactory Sarah feeding us instead.’

  ‘Does She go away often?’ I’d asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Willow had replied. ‘But normally She takes us with Her.’

  I could tell that this was something of a sore point for the other dogs. They weren’t used to being left behind, and the idea that the New Dog, Monty, had got to travel with their beloved Queen when they hadn’t was obviously ruff-ling their fur.

  That could be my way in, I decided. A way to make friends with these dogs. They’d been left behind, too – although not in quite such a spectacular manner as I had. But still, it was the one thing we had in common.

  I just hoped it would be enough.

  At dinner time, Sarah arrived, smiling again – although her eyes were a little bit red.

  ‘How are you settling in, Henry?’ she asked, leaning down to pat my head. I nuzzled into her hand, happy for the contact. None of the other dogs had let me close enough to touch them, and none of the footmen or other humans I’d encountered on my jaunt around the Palace had wanted to get near me at all. It was as if they thought I might bite them or something!

  But Sarah had no such concerns. She took time to give my ears a good scratching, and when I rolled over onto my back she even rubbed my tummy.

  It was the happiest I’d been since I arrived at the Palace. Even if the others were looking on disapprovingly, I didn’t care if I’d broken another rule.

  Soon, there was a knock on the door and Sarah said, ‘Time to go!’

  We were led along the corridor a little way to outside a door that – according to Willow’s information – must lead to the Queen’s sitting room. Sarah and a man in uniform laid a plastic sheet over the carpet, then set out the four silver bowls – three with names, one without.

  ‘Is that straight, John?’ Sarah asked. ‘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.

  AMY

  ‘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 w
asn’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 Henry, at last.

  She scowled automatically as Jim’s voice came on the line. One of the hardest parts about focusing on the future was the way the past kept interrupting her efforts.

  ‘Hey, Amy. Um, look, about this Christmas. I know we talked about me having the kids on Boxing Day, but a friend of Bonnie’s has this great cabin in the Alps, and they’ve invited us to go spend Christmas out there, skiing. I figured you wouldn’t mind – I know how you love having Christmas at home with the kids, so really, this all works out, right? Anyway, I thought I’d come see the kids Tuesday evening. Drop off presents and all that. Yeah? Okay, see you then.’

  And just like that, all her plans were pushed aside, ignored, and Jim had assumed her agreement with all of them. Really, it was just like they were still married.

  Oh. The thought washed over her as Amy realised something – she was glad they weren’t married any more. When Jim had first gone, she’d been distraught, wondering how she’d cope without the man she’d thought would be her partner for life.

  Somehow, over the past six weeks, she’d come to see that being alone was far better than being with someone who didn’t want to be there.

  Her life was wide open now – her future still to be written.

  Except for the part where her ex would be stopping by on Tuesday.

  Jabbing at the phone screen, Amy deleted the message, and sighed. Future later. First, she had to prepare her kids for not seeing their father at all over Christmas. And for seeing him on Tuesday.

  She wasn’t entirely sure which one would go down worse.

  Sighing, she checked her watch. Still too early for wine.

  ‘Kids?’ she called up the stairs, waiting for a thundering of footsteps or a yell to tell her they’d heard her. ‘Can you both come down here a moment.’

  Might as well get it over with. Like pulling off a sticking plaster. Or a really painful bikini wax.

  ‘Have they found Henry?’ Claire asked, as she bounced down the stairs. ‘Is he coming home?’

  Amy winced. ‘No, sweetie, I’m sorry. I just checked in with the authorities again, and there’s still no sign.’

  Claire’s face fell, her blue eyes wide and sad. Amy reached out and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close against her. With Claire on the second step, and Amy on the floor, Claire was almost as tall as her.

  It won’t be long before she’s grown up and leaving, too, Amy realised. Jack would be off to university in September – at least, he would if he knuckled down and got back to work. Since Jim had left, his homework had been erratic, to say the least.

  Something else to worry about.

  Jack appeared at the top of the stairs, his usual scowl firmly in place. ‘What’s the problem?’

  ‘No problem,’ Amy said, as cheerfully as she could manage. ‘Just … could you come down here a moment?’

  Jack rolled his eyes, but complied. Amy led them through to the kitchen, her arm still around Claire’s shoulders.

  Didn’t she have some mince pies somewhere? Talks always went better with something sweet to eat.

  As she rooted around in the cupboard, Jack and Claire settled themselves at the kitchen table. Amy glanced over at them and smiled. It was almost like when they were little, again. Jack doing his homework at the table, while Claire sat close by with her colouring or stickers, asking how long it would be until she could do homework.

  Of course, the novelty of that had soon worn off.

  But those days, the three of them in the kitchen, the kids busy while she cooked, waiting for Jim to make it home from work, Henry barking for treats at her heels …

  Amy grabbed the box of mince pies and slammed the cupboard door.

  Times had changed. She had to remember that. Even if she still had hope that Henry would be home, begging for snacks again, soon.

  ‘So, your dad called,’ Amy said, nonchalantly. She placed mince pies on two plates, added some squirty cream from the can in the fridge, and handed them over to Jack and Claire.

  Jack didn’t meet her gaze as he took the plate. ‘So?’ he asked, halfway through his first mouthful, spraying crumbs everywhere.

  ‘So … there’s a few changes to the plans for Christmas.’

  Claire looked up, alarmed. ‘Like what? No presents?’

  Of course that was her first concern. Amy sighed. ‘I’m sure there will be presents. In fact, you might even get the ones from your dad early. He’s coming by on Tuesday.’

  ‘Great!’ Whether Claire was more pleased about seeing Jim or the prospect of presents, Amy wasn’t sure.

  Jack clearly wasn’t happy about either of them. ‘I don’t want to see him. We have to go there on Boxing Day. Isn’t that bad enough?’

  Well, at least there was one part of the plan he’d be pleased with. ‘Actually, there’s been a bit of a change there, too. Your dad’s actually going away skiing for Christmas now, so we’ll have a bit longer together before you go to spend time with him.’ And Bonnie, she assumed. Not that they’d talked about it.

  They should, Amy knew. And soon.

  ‘Brilliant. Then I’ll be out on Tuesday and I won’t have to see him at all. Perfect.’ Jack shoved the last half of his mince pie into his mouth.

  ‘Jack …’ Amy started, but Claire spoke over her.

  ‘So, we’re not seeing him at all at Christmas?’

  ‘You’re seeing him on Tuesday,’ Amy said, brightly. ‘In fact, we could get his presents wrapped tonight, ready to give to him. We’ll put a Christmas film on, really get in the festive mood …’

  ‘Have you told him about Henry yet?’ Jack asked.

  Amy winced. ‘I haven’t actually spoken to him. He left a message on my phone.’

  ‘Meaning that you didn’t want to speak to him either,’ Jack said, astutely. ‘So how can you nag me about having to see him when you won’t?’

  She didn’t have a good argument for that, not really. Only a thousand emotions that battered her heart, none of which she could put into words.

  So instead, she said another true thing.

  ‘I’m still hoping Henry will have come home by the time we see Dad.’

  ‘Me too,’ said Claire, her voice very small.

  Jack looked away, and Amy saw his Adam’s apple bob, hard, as he swallowed. ‘Yeah. Me three.’

  Oh Henry, Amy thought. Where are you tonight?

  Day 3

  Monday 16th December

  HENRY

  I woke the next morning from a deep sleep, after doggy dreams about chasing rabbits through puddles of gravy.

  The other dogs were already awake, so I hopped down to stand beside Willow.

  ‘So?’ I asked, nudging her side to get her attention. Because even though they weren’t the friendliest I wasn’t ready to give up on finding some allies in the palace who at least understood me. ‘What’s the plan? You said you were going to let me join in with your Palace Dogs routine today, right?’

  Sighing, Willow turned slowly towards me. ‘Fine. But really, without Her here, it’s a pale imitation of the real thing.’

  ‘Well, I’ve never spent a day with Her Majesty, so I doubt I’ll really notice the difference.’ I was just excited to be included. I’d spent a lot of the previous day trying to imagine what the other dogs might be doing �
� what adventures they were having. Did they spend time chasing rabbits in the gardens? Or taste-testing the gravy? Were there Royal Pet duties I knew nothing about, like greeting important guests? Or special meals I’d missed out on somehow, like the afternoon tea Amy took Claire to with Father Christmas when she was smaller?

  I wanted to know it all.

  ‘First, we have breakfast,’ Willow said, turning away again. ‘I trust you can remember how that goes?’

  I did, and this morning, when a new housemaid came to feed us, I waited patiently for my turn before eating. I didn’t want to give Willow any excuses to shut me out again.

  ‘Now what?’ I asked, the moment the housemaid had gone.

  Willow, Candy and Vulcan all exchanged annoyed looks.

  ‘Are you going to be like this all day?’ Vulcan asked.

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Vulgarly excited,’ Willow answered. ‘And yes, I rather suspect he is.’

  Candy rolled her eyes. ‘It doesn’t do, you see, to get too excited about things here in the Palace. Apart from anything else, you’re supposed to be used to this sort of life, remember?’

  ‘Oh. I see.’ I supposed Candy had a point – I wanted to fit in here well enough for no human to notice that I didn’t belong, at least until Amy could find me. ‘So, what? I just sort of wander around looking superior?’

  Vulcan laughed at that. Rather unnecessarily, I thought.

  Willow, however, decided to continue with my instruction. ‘Soon it’ll be time for our morning walk,’ she said. ‘If we wait here, someone will come and fetch us, soon enough.’

  Waiting. One of my least favourite things to do.

  But a walk sounded fun, at least, so I hunkered down until a footman appeared with four leads – and some sort of jacket things.

  ‘Cold outside today,’ he said, as he manoeuvred Willow, then Vulcan into their padded jackets. They looked like something Claire would make Sookie or me wear to take videos of us and post them online.