Henry the Queen's Corgi

by Georgie Crawley

‘Yeah.’

  The door to the office Amy was using opened, and Shireen from the front desk stuck her head in. ‘Sorry,’ she whispered, pulling an apologetic face as she motioned towards the phone. ‘But Lacey’s just called in sick – stomach flu, so she’ll be off a couple of days. Do you think you could stay and cover the after hours slots tomorrow night?’

  Three months ago, Amy would have said, let me call my husband, I’m sure it’ll be fine. Now, working late had become a logistical nightmare – and Shireen knew it, which was probably why she was looking so guilty about having to ask. Amy sighed. She knew her friend wouldn’t have asked if she wasn’t desperate. They seemed permanently short-staffed at the surgery at the moment, and Shireen was the one who had to try and make the whole thing work.

  Pretty much like Amy was stuck doing at home.

  ‘Tell you what,’ Jim said, unaware of Amy’s new dilemma. ‘I’m on some course that finishes early tomorrow. I’ll come round earlier than planned, get there for when Claire comes home from school, so I’m there when Jack arrives too. Maybe they’ll have some ideas, and we can work on them together.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Amy asked. ‘Only, they need me to work late tomorrow night. So if you could stay with Claire until Jack gets home, at least …’

  ‘No problem,’ Jim said, firmly. Then, more quietly, ‘It would be really nice to spend a bit longer with Jack and Claire, actually.’

  Amy smiled, a little sadly, and nodded at Shireen, who gave her a grateful thumbs up.

  ‘That’s great,’ Amy said. ‘So, I’ll see you tomorrow then, I guess.’

  ‘Yep. See you then.’

  ‘Bye.’ It wasn’t until she’d hung up that Amy realised she’d forgotten to warn him that his son might not be entirely happy to see him.

  Oh well. He’d figure that one out for himself, soon enough.

  HENRY

  It turned out that, although the Palace chef daily made the most delicious meals known to dog for the Palace pets, he wasn’t actually a fan of corgis. Or at least, not of me.

  All I did was stick my nose around the door and sniff, taking in all those delectable smells. And, okay, I might have snuffled around the floor a bit looking for scraps. And maybe I tried a little too hard to climb up near one of the surfaces to get a taste of whatever it was that smelled so good in the pan. And perhaps – just perhaps – my little legs weren’t quite up to the task, and I might have knocked a few utensils to the ground as I tried to pull myself up.

  Still, there was no need for the sort of language the Palace chef used, in my opinion. And I am sure he wouldn’t use it if She was around.

  As I was chased out of the kitchens, the sound of frying pans clattering to the floor still ringing in my ears, I realised that Chef was clearly not the person to go to for unauthorised snacks and treats.

  I raced through the corridors and adjoining rooms as fast as my stumpy legs could carry me – so fast, that I stopped paying any attention to where I was going. Which meant, in no time at all, I was well and truly lost.

  Certain that I was far away enough from the kitchens that any pans that Chef tried to throw at me wouldn’t reach me, I slowed to a walk, panting heavily as I took in my surroundings. I was back upstairs, I knew that much – I remembered scampering up some wide steps, but the staircase itself had been unfamiliar to me. Which meant I was probably in a part of the Palace I’d never visited before.

  I wandered through another huge door, and found myself in yet another long, high ceiling room with paintings on the walls. In fact, it was so familiar that it took me a moment to realise what was different about this room: unlike the human portraits I’d seen everywhere else, here all the paintings were of dogs!

  I paused in front of the nearest one, staring up at a very regal looking King Charles spaniel – his nose in the air, his coat glossy and healthy, and those distinctive ears hanging either side of his head. Next along was a painting of a pack of hunting dogs, chasing down a rabbit. After that, a picture of a well-groomed corgi, not unlike myself. I cocked my head to one side. It wasn’t Willow, I was sure of that much, but there was a definite resemblance. Maybe one of her ancestors?

  It seemed the Royal Family had a long association with dogs. It definitely made me like them more. (Okay, maybe it was the food that did that first.)

  Suddenly, I heard laughter from the other end of the room. ‘Admiring your forebears?’ someone said.

  I spun around, briefly worried that the Chef had sent someone to follow me with a frying pan, but when I looked, there stood Sarah Morgan, her hands on her hips, smiling at me.

  Smiling. At me. Like she was pleased to see me. Happy that I was at the Palace, even.

  I barked with happiness as I realised I’d already found the friend I needed at the Palace! Sarah had been kind to me, right from the start. And she was new here too, so she understood how it felt. And, most importantly, she was in charge of the food, sometimes.

  She was perfect.

  Now I just needed to persuade her to help me.

  I trotted over to her side, and she reached down to pet me, but only briefly.

  ‘Sorry, no time to play at the moment,’ she said, waving a duster at me. ‘Too much to do. It wouldn’t do for any of these lovely paintings to get dusty now, would it?’

  She moved towards the first painting and began dusting the frame. I followed.

  ‘Maybe once I’m done here, I can take you on your afternoon walk,’ Sarah suggested, reaching up to clean a groove in the patterned frame. ‘I’ll need some fresh air after all this dust!’

  As she moved on to the next painting, I followed again, sitting at her feet while she worked. Looking down at me, she laughed again.

  ‘Well, I suppose there’s no harm in you keeping me company while I work, is there? As I understand it, you dogs have the run of this place, anyway. I should be asking your permission to go places!’

  Sarah, it seemed, was the chatty type. I liked it – it reminded me of Amy. She always chatted to me, when we were alone in the house, as she was going about her jobs. Sarah carried on a one-sided conversation with me as she worked, too.

  Sometimes, I wished that I could speak to humans, so I could respond properly. But, on the other hand, they probably said more to me because I couldn’t. And it wasn’t like I couldn’t make myself understood when it mattered. Like at mealtimes.

  ‘So, how are you finding the Palace?’ Sarah asked, as if I could really answer her. ‘I hope the other dogs are being nicer to you than the staff are to me.’

  I frowned. That didn’t sound good. Why on earth wouldn’t people be nice to Sarah? She was lovely.

  ‘Oh, I shouldn’t say that.’ Sarah waved her duster around vaguely, as if to brush away her comments. ‘It’s not that they’re mean, exactly. Well, not most of them, anyway. And I’m so lucky to be here! It’s the job I’ve always dreamt of but never believed I could have. And I worked so hard to get here. I really should just be grateful that I made it and stop whining.’

  She sounded like she was trying to convince herself, more than me. Like Amy had, that night Jim had packed his case and gone, as she sat on her bed and said, ‘Of course he’ll come back. This is only temporary.’

  It hadn’t worked then, and I was pretty sure it wouldn’t work now. So I waited at Sarah’s feet to see what came next.

  With a huge sigh, she deflated, her fake smile fading as she sank down to sit on one of the many upholstered chairs that lined the edges of the room.

  ‘The thing is, Henry, that it isn’t really what I was expecting. Oh, not the work – I knew exactly what that would be, and what would be required of me. I don’t have a problem with working hard, or starting at the bottom and working up. It’s not that at all.’

  I nudged up against her legs, and she put her duster down to pat my head.

  ‘The thing is … I grew up listening to my godfather telling me stories about what it was like to work at the Palace. He’s a butler at Windsor Castle, now
, but he used to work here. And he always made it sound so magical – not just the surroundings, but the … the Palace family, I suppose. Not the Royals, exactly. But the household. The way you all belong here, together, and it’s more than just being colleagues. It’s deeper. More special.’ She sighed again. ‘That’s what I wanted when I moved here. That’s why I worked so hard for it.’

  I looked up at her, making my eyes big with sympathy. I might have even whimpered a little. She just looked so sad! Her blue eyes were wide and a little watery, and there was no sign of that lovely smile that had first let me know we were destined to be friends.

  Sarah, I realised, was a human in need of some cheering up. Luckily for her, I had a lot of experience in that, lately.

  ‘I think my parents thought I was just running away,’ Sarah went on. ‘And maybe they’re right. But is that so bad? At least I was running towards something. And I figured that anywhere had to be better than where I was.’ Something in her expression tightened, her jaw suddenly set hard. ‘And I was right. It might be difficult here, and maybe the other girls do make fun of my accent when they think I can’t hear them, and talk about how I only got the job because of who my godfather is. But it’s still a million times better than staying with David, right, Henry?’

  I had no idea who David was, but Sarah sounded so determined all of a sudden that I found myself barking my agreement anyway.

  ‘Exactly.’

  Jumping to her feet, Sarah began dusting again with new vigour. I followed her as she worked her way around the room.

  ‘I deserve better than a cheating, manipulative, cruel, verbally abusive … idiot like him.’ As she spoke, she punctuated each word with a wipe of her duster, until the painting she was cleaning swayed on its chains. ‘Whoops,’ Sarah said, with a small giggle, when she noticed.

  She stepped back from the painting, and smiled down at me. ‘You’re a good listener, Henry. And you’re right – or I am, I suppose. I’m much better off here. I mean, I even get to help look after you beautiful creatures, don’t I?’ She bent over to scratch my ears. ‘Now, come on. The sooner I get this room dusted, the sooner we can head out to find the others on their afternoon walk, right?’

  It didn’t take Sarah long to finish her work, now she had cheered up. I padded along beside her as she cleaned, wondering if the afternoon walk might also involve some sort of snack. Either way, it would be good to get outside and explore again – especially if Sarah was there with me.

  Suddenly, I had a thought. If I could lead Sarah to the bush where I’d entered the Palace gardens, maybe she could help me find a way back out – or at least realise the truth about what had happened. Eventually someone was going to notice that the dog who was supposed to be here – Monty – wasn’t, or that I had the wrong name on my collar tag. Although no one other than Sarah seemed to be too keen to get close enough to check my collar.

  I’d rather it be Sarah who sussed it out anyway, I decided. Already, I trusted her to help me find my way back to my family – rather than just tossing me out on the street. She knew how it felt not to belong somewhere, and I was certain she’d want to help me.

  I just had to make her understand what the problem was.

  Sarah led me out into the gardens on a lead, just like the footman had that morning.

  ‘Sorry, Henry,’ she said, as she clipped it on. ‘I’m sure I could trust you not to run off. But it’s just that, with you being new, I can’t risk it. Not that you’ll find it easy to escape from these gardens! They go on forever, it seems like, to me. Maybe once you’re used to them I’ll let you run free a bit more.’

  Free sounded good. And, of course, I already knew just how extensive the gardens were – it was exploring them that kept me busy so long that I forgot to go back to the Walkers.

  Still, I didn’t mind staying with Sarah. She chatted to me as we walked, and it was comforting just to hear her voice – to know that someone, at least, was glad that I was there.

  We were halfway around the gardens before we bumped into another human. Literally, in Sarah’s case. We turned a corner, around one of those large, evergreen bushes (that wasn’t the one I’d squeezed through – I checked) and suddenly – crash!

  ‘Oh gosh, I’m so sorry!’ she said, looking flustered.

  The man she’d slammed into gripped her elbow to steady her, and smiled. ‘No harm done.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Sarah asked. ‘I didn’t hurt you? Oh! And Henry!’ She crouched down quickly to check me over. ‘Are you okay, Henry? You didn’t get hurt did you? I’d never forgive myself …’

  The man chuckled. ‘You’re in the right place, if you like dogs,’ he said. ‘You can’t get away from them in Buckingham Palace.’

  ‘But why would you want to?’ Sarah, reassured that I was just fine, stood up again. ‘They’re such lovely creatures. Back home on the farm, my parents have springer spaniels, so corgis are new to me – but Henry is such a friendly dog.’

  ‘I’m glad one of them is.’ The man bent down to rub between my ears. ‘The other footmen are always complaining about how yappy they are. And snappy, for that matter.’

  ‘Not Henry,’ Sarah said, loyally. ‘He’s a darling.’ I barked my agreement. Amy was always saying that about me.

  ‘Henry, huh? You must be our new guy. Funny, I thought his name was something else.’ He frowned for a moment, like he was trying to remember, then shook his head. Poor old Monty. He hadn’t even made it to the Palace properly yet and everyone had forgotten his name already. ‘Anyway, pleased to meet you, Henry. I’m Oliver Kinchen-Williams, Senior Footman here at the Palace.’

  ‘Oh!’ Sarah said, suddenly. ‘You’re Oliver. I didn’t realise … my godfather, he told me to introduce myself to you when I started here. But with one thing and another … I hadn’t. Yet. I’m Sarah Morgan.’

  Something in her tone didn’t quite ring true to me – I have a good ear for lies and half-truths. I didn’t think Sarah was really deceiving Oliver, or anything, but I wondered what her reasons really were for not introducing herself sooner. I suspected it had something to do with the less than friendly attitude of the other staff she’d met so far.

  If the other staff were treating Sarah the same way Willow and the Dorgis were acting with me, then Sarah would definitely need my cheering up efforts. I could help her make friends around the Palace, I was sure – not everyone could be mean and horrible, could they? And Amy always said what a friendly dog I was. It would be easy!

  ‘I am pleased to finally make your acquaintance, Sarah,’ Oliver said, with a confused smile. ‘Now, who on earth might your godfather be that he knows me? I’m not exactly a big name around this place.’

  ‘To him you are,’ Sarah said. ‘He calls you his protégé.’

  Understanding flooded Oliver’s face. ‘There’s only one person that could be! How is old Tom? Still ruling the roost at Windsor – at least, when the Royals aren’t in residence?’

  ‘He is,’ Sarah replied, grinning. ‘I don’t think he could bear to be anywhere else, really.’

  ‘It’s an odd life, in royal service,’ Oliver admitted. ‘Either you’re made for it, or you’re not. But if you are …’

  ‘Why would you be anywhere else?’ Sarah finished for him. ‘I’ve heard Tom say that a lot!’

  ‘He does have his sayings, doesn’t he?’

  ‘And he says them often,’ Sarah agreed.

  I was glad that Sarah had found someone to talk to, someone who shared her interests, and knew her godfather. That was a really good start for my Cheer Up Sarah campaign.

  But unfortunately, the conversation itself wasn’t quite as interesting to me as the pigeon that had just hopped across the path.

  I gave a tug on my lead, without even meaning to, and Sarah looked down at me. ‘Sorry, I promised Henry a proper walk, and we’re still only halfway round.’

  ‘And I need to get back to work, anyway,’ Oliver said. ‘But it was very nice to meet you, Sarah.’ I ga
ve a sharp bark, trying to tell him not to go – to stay and talk to Sarah some more. But it only made them both laugh.

  ‘And you, too, Henry,’ Oliver added. ‘I hope I’ll see you both around the Palace again, soon.’

  ‘I’m sure you will.’ Sarah gave a sunny smile, and suddenly the day didn’t seem quite so cold.

  Oliver headed back towards the garden doors, and Sarah and I stood and watched him for a moment.

  Then she gave a little sigh. ‘He seemed nice, didn’t he? I knew there had to be some nice people here at the Palace somewhere.’

  I barked, and pulled on my lead again. If Oliver was gone, why were we still standing here?

  Sarah laughed. ‘Come on, then, you. Let’s see if we can catch up with your friends, too.’

  Day 4

  Tuesday 17th December

  AMY

  The cold, sharp air felt fresh against Amy’s face as she crossed the road from the surgery to the park on her lunch break. She’d got so used to spending her lunchtimes out in the fresh air, walking Henry, that she’d felt cooped in and stuffy-headed staying in the office when she could be outside.

  Besides, outside she didn’t get any pitying looks from the other staff – not just for the loss of her husband, but now the loss of her dog, too.

  Amy wasn’t entirely sure how to tell them she couldn’t decide which one she missed more.

  Sinking down to sit on a bench under a bare-branched tree, she sighed. That wasn’t true, anyway.

  She definitely missed Henry the most.

  As she sat and watched the park – the people walking, with and without dogs, the squirrels scampering with the last of the nuts, the birds searching for sandwich scraps – it was almost as if Henry was there with her. Any moment now, he’d bound forward after a pigeon, or start snuffling around the base of that tree to figure out what smelled so interesting.

  Except, of course, he couldn’t. Because he was lost.

  ‘Still no sign of Henry, then?’ Luke settled onto the bench beside her, Daisy sitting patiently at his feet in a way that Henry never would have managed.