Henry the Queen's Corgi

by Georgie Crawley

  ‘Not a whisker,’ Amy said, sadly. ‘I’ve been calling everywhere I can think of, asking them to check the microchips of any corgis that have been found in the Greater London area … but nothing.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Luke said. ‘But have faith. He’ll come home eventually.’

  ‘How can you possibly know that?’ Amy asked. Luke’s optimism was kind, but she couldn’t help but worry that it was misplaced.

  But Luke gave her a sunny smile. ‘With family like you, how could he possibly stay away?’

  Amy smiled back, her day suddenly a little warmer.

  ‘So, you and Daisy are enjoying Redhill, then?’ Amy asked. It seemed that she’d been telling Luke a great deal about her life recently, and not learnt very much about his in return. Perhaps it was time to redress that balance.

  ‘Very much,’ Luke said. As if to agree with her owner, Daisy gave a small bark, and trotted a little way apart from them in the direction of a bustling squirrel. ‘Everyone at the surgery has been very welcoming.’

  ‘We’re just grateful to have a full complement of doctors again!’ Amy laughed. ‘The last few months since Doctor Shah retired have been very busy.’

  ‘I’m glad to have been able to help.’

  ‘Oh! Not that that’s the only reason we’re glad to have you, of course,’ Amy said, quickly. ‘The patients all seem to love you, and, well, you’re a nice guy.’

  ‘Compliment of the century, right there,’ Luke said, with a grin. ‘But I’ll take nice guy. Better than the alternative.’

  ‘Most definitely,’ Amy agreed. In fact, Luke seemed like such a nice guy, it was hard to imagine why his wife would have divorced him.

  Unless he had a hidden dark side, of course …

  ‘What just happened then?’ Luke looked at her curiously. ‘Your face just went from “nice guy” to “serial killer” in ten seconds flat.’

  Amy shook her head, and laughed. ‘Just trying to figure out what your dark side is.’

  ‘Not serial killer, I promise,’ Luke replied. ‘I mean, I’m not the world’s tidiest person, and you already know that my handwriting is atrocious. But I’m kind to children and animals, and I cook a mean curry.’

  ‘The good does seem to outweigh the bad, then,’ Amy admitted. There must be some way to ask ‘how did your marriage end’ without it sounding like an accusation, right? She just couldn’t think of it.

  ‘If what you’re really asking is “why did my wife leave me”, that’s easy,’ Luke said, putting her out of her misery. ‘We got married very young, before we were done growing up really, and we never talked about the future in the way we should have.’ He shrugged, although Amy could still see the pain in his eyes as he talked about it. ‘Turned out, we grew into very different people – and we didn’t like the other person so much any more. Not to mention, we both wanted very different lives. So really, divorce was sort of inevitable. When she left me, I was hardly even surprised. Which doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell at the time, of course.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Amy placed a hand briefly on his, and he smiled up at her.

  ‘It’s fine. Well, it’s sad, of course – I thought I had life sussed out, and now I’m back at the start again,’ he said. ‘But actually, there’s something quite liberating about that. I get to design my future myself, as the person I am now – not the boy I was at nineteen. That’s exciting.’

  ‘It sounds it.’ Maybe she should be thinking of her life that way, too. Jack would be off at university next year, and Claire would follow a few years later. Amy had her whole future ahead of her. How did she want to spend it? Who did she want to be, without Jim there to help shape her decisions?

  ‘What about you?’ Luke said. ‘If you don’t mind me asking.’

  Amy gave him a small, half smile. ‘Oh, that’s even easier. My husband fell in love with someone else.’

  It felt good to say it – to admit that truth. Not ‘he left me’, or ‘he cheated on me’, or even ‘he abandoned me’. Yes, he’d done all of those things, and the pain he’d caused wasn’t going to fade away completely for a very long time.

  But in the end, Amy realised, it hadn’t been about her.

  She hadn’t done anything wrong, she hadn’t been the wrong wife for him, she hadn’t driven him away.

  Jim had fallen in love with someone else. It was sad, and it hurt – but it wasn’t her fault.

  ‘He’s an idiot, then,’ Luke said.

  ‘Oh, absolutely,’ Amy agreed. ‘But honestly? I think it’s all going to work out just fine. In the end.’

  After all, hadn’t it been Luke who’d told her to focus on the future?

  And suddenly, that future was looking a lot more exciting.

  ‘Good,’ Luke said.

  Together, they sat and watched Daisy chase around the park for the rest of their lunch break.

  HENRY

  My days at the Palace were already starting to settle into a sort of routine. Willow and the others assured me that once She came home, things would be even better – except, of course, we all knew I probably wouldn’t be around to experience that.

  As it was, I was content enough adventuring around the Palace alone – or with Sarah. I’d decided that it was definitely worth staying with the other dogs until after the morning meal – just to make sure I didn’t miss out on those meaty dog biscuits. Then, I’d go exploring – roaming the halls and the rooms of the Palace and getting to know them all. I was building a scent map of the place, slowly but surely, until I could find my way around with my eyes shut. (Not that I’d want to, of course, but it was a useful way of making sure I didn’t get any more lost than I already was.) I tried to get Candy to come adventuring with me, and I thought she might be starting to waver, but every time Vulcan or Willow gave her one of those superior Looks, she’d change her mind and slink back to her basket.

  Never mind. I’d win her over eventually. I was a charming dog, remember.

  Anyway, after I’d explored a new area of the Palace, and around the time I started getting bored of more paintings and more golden-legged furniture, I went in search of Sarah.

  Sarah seemed to have lots of different duties around the Palace, mostly to do with cleaning, and she always seemed happy enough to be doing them. As I pottered along beside her, she’d talk to me, and so I learned all about her life before she came to the Palace, and what she’d left behind.

  It didn’t take long for me to come to the conclusion that she was right – she was far better off here with me, than back at home with her ex, David.

  ‘It’s not that I don’t miss it there,’ Sarah said, that morning, as she dusted another vase. ‘Home is … well, it’s home, isn’t it? I think you always miss it, just a bit. But I’d outgrown it, maybe. It was time to move on, anyway. After everything happened with David … I decided it was time to find the real me again. The happy, enthusiastic me. So that’s why I came here!’

  It seemed to me that the change of location had worked for Sarah. Most of the time she did seem happy and enthusiastic. Except when one of the other staff said something mean – like copying her accent, or making a comment about her godfather.

  The only other times she seemed sad was when she talked about David – or when she was thinking about him. I could always tell when that happened, because she’d start cleaning slower, and her eyes lost all their sparkle.

  ‘I don’t know why I still get sad about it. It’s not that I miss him, exactly,’ she said, slumping down to sit on one of the red upholstered benches in the room she was cleaning. ‘It’s more that I miss the life I thought we were going to have together. Which is silly, because I know now that the life I dreamt of never even existed.’

  That was my cue to get to work on cheering her up, I decided.

  The best way to do that, in my experience with Amy and Claire, was to get Sarah outside. So, the moment she’d finished her jobs, I persuaded Sarah to take me out to find the other dogs on their midday walk, befo
re she had to go back in to eat her lunch.

  So far, I hadn’t had any luck in leading Sarah to the bush I’d entered the gardens through. Not least because I couldn’t remember where it was. And, to be honest, all big, green shrubs look sort of the same from corgi level.

  Still, maybe today would be the day!

  ‘You’re ready for your walk then, I assume,’ Sarah said, laughing when I appeared with my lead in my mouth. I’d found a whole stash of them hung by one of the garden doors the day before, so now I knew just where to go when I needed a walk.

  ‘Come on then,’ Sarah said, clipping the lead to my collar. ‘I suppose this room is as clean as it’s going to get, anyway.’

  Outside, Sarah’s mood brightened almost immediately – especially when I did some of my best funny tricks for her. It’s hard not to be happy when there’s a corgi gallivanting around for your pleasure, chasing squirrels halfway up trees before slipping back down again, or hopping over stepping stones and skipping into bushes to look for fun treats to bring back for you.

  By the time we met up with the other dogs, and Sarah handed me over to the footman walking them so she could go and eat her lunch, she was beaming away again. Good.

  After the midday walk, and all my exertions entertaining Sarah, I took advantage of the Corgi Room for a small snooze before dinner. I wanted to be well rested to really appreciate all the effort that Chef had gone to (while still staying well out of the reach of his frying pan).

  My plans for the rest of the afternoon were light. A bit more socialising with the other dogs – I was still trying to win Candy over at least, and I could definitely feel her softening. Perhaps I’d get my coat brushed by Sarah or one of the other staff (during which Willow and the others would inevitably moan, because they were used to having it done by the Queen herself), and before long it was time for bed.

  All in all, it wasn’t a bad life – for however long I got to live it.

  But that night, I awoke suddenly to the sound of crying. Not human crying, but dog crying. The sort of whimpering and whining that let me know whoever was doing it was in real distress.

  In the darkness, I hopped down from my bed, and twitched my ears to get a firm lead on the direction of the sound. Then I followed it, all the way to Candy’s basket.

  ‘Candy? Candy?’ I tried not to make too much noise, for fear of waking the others, but I soon realised that Candy was still asleep.

  She was dreaming. But whatever she was dreaming about, it sounded utterly terrifying.

  I’ve had some scary night terrors over the years, often to do with there being no more food, ever again. Or being chased by a ten foot tall version of Sookie. Or … well, anyway. I’d never had any dream as scary as Candy’s sounded.

  Tentatively, I jumped up, leaning my front paws against her basket, and said her name again, close to her ear. Still nothing, except more whimpers. I was starting to think I was actually making things worse.

  I reached out and pressed my nose to her side, nuzzling her gently until she started to stir. Her eyes fluttered open.

  ‘What on earth are you doing?’ she asked, obviously outraged.

  ‘You were having a bad dream.’ I pulled back to look her in the face. ‘You were whimpering. Crying. I thought I’d better wake you up.’

  ‘I do not whimper.’

  ‘Fine, if you say so.’ I dropped back down to all four paws. ‘But that was what it sounded like.’

  I turned to head back to my own bed, but Candy’s voice stopped me. ‘Wait …’

  Pausing, I twisted my head to look back over my flanks at her. ‘Yes?’

  She looked nervous, all of a sudden. Scared, even. ‘Could you just … stay? Just for a little while?’

  Whatever that dream had been, it must have really freaked her out if she was accepting my company over being alone. Or maybe she was softening to me more than I’d thought.

  ‘Of course.’ I put my paws up on the edge of her basket again and, this time, she shifted over to make room for me to get in there too. So, after a moment’s pause, I did.

  Candy nuzzled into my side as I settled down. One thing I’d noticed since I arrived, the Dorgis were definitely smaller, with shorter legs than me and Willow. And Candy was even smaller than Vulcan, so there was plenty of room for us both in the spacious basket provided by the Palace.

  I wanted to comfort her. To cuddle up to her and tell her everything would be okay. Why was it that I could cheer up humans easily, even though they couldn’t understand me, but I couldn’t seem to get close to these other dogs, who understood every word I said?

  Still, Candy had let me in. She was scared and alone, and she’d welcomed me into her basket – which meant it was my job to make her feel better.

  If only I knew how.

  ‘Could you do something for me?’ she asked, already sounding sleepy again.

  ‘Anything,’ I said. ‘What do you need?’

  ‘Tell me a story?’ she said.

  ‘A story?’ I knew lots of stories, but they were mostly human ones. Books that Jack and Claire had brought home from school and been made to read out loud, when they were younger. Or TV shows and films that I’d watched with the family on movie nights.

  I knew all about happy endings, and how to get two people who were perfect for each other to fall in love. I even knew exactly what Christmas should look like, and how human best friends cheered each other up when they were sad.

  But I didn’t know many stories about dogs, that weren’t really about their human owners. And I didn’t know what story to tell Candy to chase her nightmares away.

  ‘What sort of a story?’ I asked.

  Candy yawned. ‘Tell me all about your life before you came to the Palace. About the world out there. And your family – what were they called?’

  ‘The Walkers.’ I had a lump in my throat just saying their name. I’d been having so much fun exploring the Palace, and making friends with Sarah, I’d almost forgotten about them, just for a day, but now I thought about them the emptiness opened up inside me again.

  ‘Yes, the Walkers. Tell me all about them,’ Candy ordered.

  I knew why she was asking. She didn’t really care about me, or my life before the Palace. She just wanted distracting from whatever her bad dream had been.

  But I wasn’t one to leave another dog scared and alone. Jack wouldn’t do that, and neither would I.

  ‘Jim and Amy brought me home with them when I was just eight weeks old,’ I started. ‘I was a present for Jack’s tenth birthday, and from the moment we met, we were best friends.’

  I told her all about the Walkers, and Redhill, and the parks and the people and the squirrels. I talked and talked, until I realised Candy had fallen asleep.

  By then, I was far too tired to make it back to my own basket. Especially when Candy’s was so comfortable, with her in it to make it extra cosy.

  So I fell asleep there, too, my nose pressed against her side hoping that I might just wake up next to Amy in the morning, my time at the Palace only a dream.

  AMY

  Why was it that late shifts always ended up running even later than they were supposed to? First it had been a number of complicated appointments running over all through the afternoon, then a problem with the computer system, and finally the burglar alarm had been playing up. All in all, Amy rather thought the day was out to get her.

  She’d phoned home during the afternoon, to check that the kids had got back from school okay, and that Jim had been there to meet them. She’d spoken to Jack, who had seemed in a worse mood than ever.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me he’d be here early?’ Jack had whined, the minute he realised who was calling.

  Because you’d have gone out of your way not to be there, Amy had thought, but didn’t say.

  ‘He is your father, Jack,’ she’d said instead, sighing. ‘Whatever has happened, whatever happens next, he’s still your dad. And Claire’s too. And this is the only chance the two of you ha
ve to spend time with him before Christmas. So make the most of it? Please?’

  She wasn’t sure if her pleading had done any good, but at least she knew she’d done her part. Jim couldn’t blame her if Jack didn’t want to be around him.

  Finally, the surgery was all locked up, and Amy could head home. To her dogless house, her grumpy children, and her cheating almost ex-husband. She was just living the Christmas dream. Really.

  She made herself remember Luke Fitzgerald’s smile, and his total confidence that everything would work out. It didn’t make her feel as good as it had in person, but it was a start.

  As she pulled into her street, she realised how dark her house looked compared to the others. In other years, Jim would have put up lights on the roof, or at least around the ground floor windows. Somewhere at the back of the garage was a wicker reindeer that Claire had always loved, with tiny fairy lights strung around its antlers. She should find the reindeer. Make an effort. Focus on their future – her Christmas with the kids.

  Maybe tomorrow.

  At the very least she should finally put up the fake tree she’d picked up at the supermarket. It was so small it wouldn’t take too many decorations to cover it. Which was just as well; most of the ones in the attic had too many memories attached to them for her to want to put them on the tree this year. Like the glass hearts she and Jim had bought in Venice on their honeymoon, or the angel decorations Jim had bought her over the years – one every December, to add to her collection.

  Until this year.

  Maybe she should just buy all new decorations. Have a festive fresh start, so to speak.

  Exhausted, Amy rooted around in her pockets for her keys, only to have the front door yanked open before she could insert them into the lock.

  ‘Where have you been?’ Jim asked, sounding annoyed. ‘I called your mobile half a dozen times.’

  ‘I was working,’ Amy pointed out. ‘And I called home earlier – I spoke to Jack.’

  ‘And told him it was okay to go out, even though this was my only night with the kids before Christmas? What happened to not bringing the kids into this? If you’re mad at me—’