Henry the Queen's Corgi

by Georgie Crawley

  I did not approve.

  ‘Do we have to wear those ridiculous things?’ I whispered to Candy.

  She shrugged. ‘They keep us warm, outside in winter.’

  ‘I prefer to keep warm by running around,’ I said.

  But apparently my fate was sealed. Soon enough I found myself outside in the Palace gardens again, this time wearing a stupid coat.

  ‘Come on, let’s make this quick,’ the footman said, shivering, as he led us around the garden on the path.

  I’d hoped for a chance to explore the gardens again – to run wild and stick my nose in every interesting scent I could find. Instead, the other dogs sedately stuck to the path, only departing onto the grass to take care of business. We were back at the doors to the Palace again in no time.

  ‘Is that it?’ I asked.

  Willow looked at me like I was crazy. ‘It’s cold. Of course we don’t want to stay out there too long.’

  I looked longingly back out of the window at the gardens. All those pigeons left unchased. All those fascinating smells unsmelt. It seemed such a waste.

  Still, maybe the next part of the corgis’ agenda would be more interesting.

  ‘So, what’s next?’ I hopped up the stairs beside Candy. She seemed like the more relaxed of the three dogs, so far. Willow just wanted to make sure I did everything the way she thought it should be done, and Vulcan just wanted rid of me as soon as possible. But Candy, although she followed the others’ leads, seemed just a little more friendly.

  And friendly was what I needed right now.

  ‘Next?’ Candy looked surprised. ‘Well, I suppose we usually stay with Her as she goes about her business – keeping Her company in Her study, or following Her to meetings and the like. Then in the afternoon, we take tea with Her – sometimes we even get some scones. Then She might brush us, or walk us again before dinner. That sort of thing.’

  Candy seemed to be missing one very important point. ‘But She isn’t here.’

  ‘No,’ Candy agreed, sounding forlorn. ‘She isn’t.’

  I thought about Amy, Jack and Claire – I understood how Candy felt, but I didn’t want her to feel sad so I gave her a nudge. ‘So what do you do when She isn’t here?’

  Willow, passing us on the stairs, replied, ‘We behave in the manner She would expect us to.’

  ‘But by doing what?’ I asked, chasing her towards the Corgi Room.

  The answer, it seemed, was Not Much.

  Without the Queen at the Palace, the other dogs were at a total loss for what to do.

  ‘You could give me a proper tour of the Palace,’ I suggested.

  Willow shook her head. ‘It all looks much the same after a while.’

  ‘Well, we could find the kitchens. See if we can figure out the recipe for that brilliant gravy they serve at dinner.’ That would definitely be a memento worth taking home from the Palace.

  ‘Why would we do that?’ Vulcan looked down his long nose at me. ‘They already make and bring the food for us. Why on earth would we need to know what’s in it?’

  ‘Fine.’ Sighing, I sank down to my paws, and watched as the others curled up in their baskets, apparently ready for a nap.

  I’d really thought today was going to be more fun than this.

  Well, if I wanted fun, I’d just have to find it myself.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Willow asked, sleepily, as I passed her basket.

  ‘That footman last night said we’re allowed to go wherever we like in the Palace, right?’

  Willow nodded. ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Well then,’ I said, lifting my nose to take in the air outside the room, ‘I’m going everywhere. I’m going to explore every inch of this Palace, find all its secrets and seek out adventure!’

  Vulcan snorted inelegantly at that. I ignored him.

  ‘Who’s with me?’ I asked, directing my words at Candy in particular. If any of them were likely to come on an adventure with me, it was Candy the Dorgi.

  But Candy looked between Vulcan and Willow, both of whom were rolling their eyes, then back at me. She gave a small, apologetic shrug, and settled down into her basket.

  ‘Fine.’ I could adventure on my own. ‘Don’t wait up for me.’

  And with that, I strode off into the Palace corridors, an intrepid explorer. I wouldn’t come back until I’d seen every last room in the Palace. (Or until it was time for another meal. Whichever happened first.)

  Of course, when I made my plan, I hadn’t realised quite how much of the Palace there really was to see. The parts I’d seen so far were, apparently, just the start – the top of the rabbit hole, so to speak. (Rabbit holes always looked interesting until you realised they went much deeper than you thought, and the rabbits were always out of reach. Of course, by that time your muzzle was well and truly stuck, and Sookie was sitting on the grass beside you howling with laughter.)

  I padded through corridor after corridor, and room after enormous room, all of them lavishly decorated with huge paintings on the walls, surrounded by golden frames. And everywhere, there were Christmas decorations, sparkling in the winter light like snowflakes.

  I saw a few people – mostly men wearing the same uniform as John had the night before, and the grumpy man the day before that. I snuck up on a few of them, hoping to make friends, but mostly they just jumped back and swore when I got close. I learned a few new words, anyway. (I could guess their meaning easily enough!)

  The funny thing was, every time, after I’d been sworn at, the men would look around, like they were checking no one had seen them.

  In one long, long room, lined with huge paintings hanging on a rail at the top of the red flocked walls, I came across some other people – a small boy with blonde hair, riding a wooden trike over the creamy patterned rugs, his little sister toddling after him, trying to catch up. At the far end, their mother stood laughing, her dark hair hanging around her pretty face.

  They looked like a nice family. I wondered, if the Walkers never came back for me, if those three needed a pet.

  But then the boy on the trike came careening towards me, and I hopped through a doorway into another room to avoid being squished.

  This room was even more magnificent than the ones I’d seen before. Decked out all in red and cream, everything about it was extravagant – oversized and made to impress. Huge crystal chandeliers, with white candles placed in them, hung from the ceiling along the length of the room on both sides – plus another giant one in the middle.

  At the far end of the room there were three red carpeted steps up to a raised platform – with two ornate chairs with red cushions and backs, gold legs and gold embroidery on the backs. Behind the chairs hung a dark red velvet curtain.

  I looked around. No one else seemed to be watching, and those chairs did look particularly comfy.

  Willow had said we were allowed anywhere we liked. Surely that included the furniture?

  I padded up the steps, my paws a little sore from all my exploring. I was sure no one would mind if I just had a little rest on one of the big chairs …

  As I was drifting off, I heard an amused snort from the doorway. I opened one eye to see a red-headed man standing at the other end of the room. ‘Granny really does let you dogs rule this place, doesn’t she?’

  I snuffled my agreement as I fell asleep.

  When I awoke from my impromptu nap, my stomach was rumbling. Hopping down from my seat, I set out again – this time, following my nose, hopefully towards some food. The footman, John, had said that all the dog food was prepared in the kitchens – including that fabulous gravy. This Palace might have a lot of unfamiliar rooms – like the Big Chair Room or the Painting Room, never mind the Corgi Room – but even I knew what a kitchen looked like.

  All I had to do now was find it.

  Fortunately, corgis are in possession of an exceptionally fine sense of smell. Even in a Palace of this size, I could find a scent trail to follow. (The smell of the rabbit from last night was ve
ry memorable.)

  My nose led me down a different staircase from the one I’d used before – one at least twice as big. It was as grand in its way as the Big Chair Room.

  From the landing where I stood, awed, I could see that the stairs split into two, each set curving around to the ground on either side. The banister was twisty, patterned gold, and the carpets – of course – were red. And there were more huge paintings of people. I wondered if all the people on the walls were the people who lived here – and where they’d all gone. There were enough rooms in the Palace for all of them, for certain.

  I pondered the question as I padded down the stairs, still chasing the delicious scent of food. Maybe they were all the people who’d lived here over the years. The family of the Queen, I supposed. Just like all the photos Amy kept on the wall by the stairs at home.

  I was still thinking about Amy, and my family, as I trotted into another huge room, and stopped, staring.

  There, placed at either side of another small set of stairs, and at the top of the stairs, were three enormous Christmas trees – at least fifteen dogs high – all decorated with bright lights and tiny red and gold crowns.

  Stepping closer to the nearest tree, I tilted my head to look up at it.

  Most years, Jim went out with Jack and Claire, a few weeks before Christmas, while Amy made mince pies ready for when they came back. They would always return with a big, bushy green pine tree to put up in the lounge, and I’d dance around their feet as Jim unravelled strings of lights and Claire ate too many mince pies.

  But even the biggest of those trees wasn’t a patch on these three.

  This year, Amy had brought back a not-real tree from the supermarket, along with a couple of boxes of mince pies. Jack had refused to help decorate it, and Claire had declared that she didn’t like those mince pies, so the tree was still in its box when we left for London the other day.

  I looked up a little further, and spotted something else – a big bunch of green leaves with white berries. Mistletoe. Amy always used to hang a bunch of it by the front door at Christmas, and Jim would always kiss her under it, every time he left the house, and when he came home again.

  When had they stopped doing that? Was it last year? The year before? I couldn’t remember.

  I wondered again how they were all managing without me.

  I hoped it was better than I was managing without them.

  No. I wasn’t going to mope. I was going to explore. Have adventures.

  And besides, the smell of the pine was blocking out the scent of the kitchens, so I carried on my way to find the food.

  No point pining on an empty stomach.

  AMY

  Monday morning, life went back to normal – or as normal as anything ever was, these days, without Jim or Henry there to share it. Amy started the day by waking up to the shrieking alarm, and fumbling for the light switch, only to remember that Henry wasn’t there to take for his early morning walk.

  She collapsed back onto the bed, and tried to feel grateful for the extra half hour’s sleep. It wasn’t the same as having a furry companion to brighten her morning, though.

  It was the last week of the school term, which meant there were carol concerts to get through, assignments due in, friendly fallings-out over presents, and what seemed like endless requests for money or food or bottles from the school. Stumbling out of the bedroom twenty minutes later, Amy tripped over Sookie on her way to the bathroom, and bit her tongue to keep from swearing. Loudly.

  At least someone seemed to be making the most of the dogless house. When Henry had been at home, Sookie had gone out of her way to avoid him. Now, the cat seemed to be underfoot all the time.

  ‘I think she’s missing Henry,’ Claire said, bending down to pet the cat – instead of getting her coat on ready to leave for school.

  ‘I think she’s gloating,’ Jack answered. ‘She’s probably glad that she’s the only pet.’

  ‘I think it’s cold outside and she likes to be inside by the radiators,’ Amy said. ‘And we need to get going, so will you two hurry up!’

  Eventually, they were ready to go, and Amy got the joy of forcing her way through traffic to drop them off at two different schools – the local secondary for Claire, and the nearby sixth form college for Jack.

  The kids safely at school and college – where she hoped Jack would be staying for all his classes, for once – Amy raced to the doctors’ clinic where she worked and prepared to try and get through another day.

  The only problem was, focusing on the patients she was trying to help was growing harder and harder as her first break approached.

  She needed to call Jim. She knew that. She needed to tell him about Henry. And she absolutely had to do that before he arrived at the house the next evening and realised that Henry wasn’t there.

  Of course, she had quite a few other things she’d like to say to Jim too, but they might have to wait until after they’d dealt with the immediate crisis.

  ‘Amy? Do you have a moment?’ Dr Fitzgerald appeared in her doorway, in between patients. He always looked faintly rumpled, Amy thought, in a distracted, absent-minded professor sort of way. But she’d sat in with him on meetings with a few patients, and she knew he was sharp as anything when it came to medical issues. Even better, the patients liked and trusted him. That went a long way.

  ‘Of course.’ Amy pushed her chair away from her desk and turned towards him. ‘What’s up, Doctor?’

  ‘Please, call me Luke.’ He waved a sheet of paper vaguely at her. ‘Somehow, I’ve got stuck with booking the table for the surgery Christmas dinner.’

  Amy grinned. ‘Newbie privilege.’

  ‘And I’m sure I feel very honoured,’ Luke said, drily. ‘You’re coming though, aren’t you?’

  Amy pulled a face. ‘I’m not sure …’

  ‘Oh, come on. Please? For me? If this dinner is a failure I’ll probably have to leave and find a new surgery, just to get over the shame. And I like it here. My flat is a five-minute walk from work and, apart from anything else, Daisy loves exploring the park across the road.’

  ‘Daisy’s your Dalmatian?’ Amy asked. ‘I’ve seen you walking her a few times, when I’ve taken Henry out in my lunch break. She’s gorgeous.’

  ‘Thank you. And Henry … he’s a corgi, right?’

  ‘Right.’ Amy’s smile dimmed. ‘Actually … he’s missing at the moment. We took him to London on Saturday and he ran away.’

  Luke’s expression was stricken. ‘Oh, Amy! I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do to help? Put up posters, make calls, anything.’

  ‘You’re very kind.’ Amy felt tears pricking behind her eyes. It seemed like a long time since anyone had been that kind to her.

  ‘I just know how much it hurts to lose a pet you care about,’ he said. ‘When I got divorced … my wife kept our dog. That’s when I got Daisy. But much as I love her, it doesn’t make up for the dog I lost. So seriously, anything I can do, just ask.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘And I’ll put you down for the Christmas dinner,’ Luke said, backing out of the room to let a mother with a small baby in. ‘You need something fun to look forward to!’

  How could she argue with that?

  Ten minutes later, Amy waved goodbye to a red-eyed baby who’d just suffered through his injections (and his teary-eyed mother who’d watched and held him). Once they were gone, Amy checked in with the reception desk to make sure she had time to take her break – and phone Jim. She tried to pretend that she wasn’t hoping for some sort of emergency or walk-in patient that meant that she didn’t have to make the call. But there was none.

  With a sigh, she headed back to her desk and stared at her mobile phone.

  She had to tell him. And really, what right did he have to be mad? She might have lost their dog, but he’d walked out on them all first.

  In fact, she’d never have taken them all to London if Jim hadn’t left to run off with Bonnie.

  Which
meant that, really, this was entirely Jim’s fault. Just like everything else that seemed to be going wrong in their lives at the moment.

  That thought made it a lot easier to press the right buttons to place the call.

  ‘Amy?’ Jim sounded just as he always had when she’d called him at work – impatient, and slightly annoyed. ‘Is this important? Only—’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, quickly. If they didn’t have this conversation now, it would only be worse later. ‘It’s important.’

  Jim gave a heavy sigh. ‘Is it money? Or the kids? Is it—’

  ‘It’s Henry. He’s missing.’ Her heart clenched again as she said it out loud.

  ‘Amy, can’t you deal with this? I really don’t have time—’

  ‘And I do? I’m already looking after everything else you left behind here, remember.’

  Jim was silent for a moment. Then he said, ‘Have you tried looking in next door’s garden? You know he loves hunting the squirrels there.’

  ‘We lost him in London. On Saturday.’

  ‘In London? What the hell did you take him to London for?’

  Because I was trying to make Christmas special again. Because I’m doing it all on my own here, and that’s your fault. Because Henry deserved a day trip too – because he’s more a part of this family than you are, these days.

  Amy took a deep breath, and held all those thoughts inside. ‘Does it really matter now? What matters is getting him back.’

  ‘Right. Right, sure. Okay.’ Jim exhaled slowly. ‘So, what have you done so far?’

  Glad to be back on firmer, factual conversational ground, Amy explained all the steps she’d taken to try and find Henry – and how none of them had worked.

  ‘Okay, so you’ve done all the obvious stuff,’ Jim admitted. ‘That means we need to come up with something new. Something innovative.’

  ‘Great,’ she said evenly, trying to hold her tongue at his implication that she’d only done the basics. ‘Any ideas?’

  ‘Not yet.’ Jim sighed down the line. ‘How are the kids taking it?’

  ‘Not great,’ Amy admitted. ‘You know how much they love that dog.’