Henry the Queen's Corgi

by Georgie Crawley

  Sarah looked down at me and laughed. Then, as if she could read my mind, she said, ‘Don’t worry, silly. You don’t have to leave the Palace. There’s a Post Office right here in the building, you know!’

  That, I didn’t know. Clearly Willow hadn’t thought it was important information to share.

  Cheered, I hopped forward again, eager to see the Palace Post Office.

  ‘Apparently there’s a swimming pool and a cinema too,’ Sarah said, as we carried on walking. ‘I thought I might go for a dip later, if the pool is free. And I want to see about joining the Palace Film Club, too. I mean, if I want to make friends, I’ve got to get involved, right?’

  I hoped she was right about that. I hated seeing Sarah sad because she hadn’t made any friends amongst the other housemaids or footmen. She was such a lovely person, but I knew the others made fun of her, for her accent more than anything. Personally, I liked the way Sarah spoke. It was warm and welcoming – and a lot more friendly than any of the other voices I’d heard around the Palace.

  There had to be some other staff at Buckingham Palace who would appreciate all the good things about Sarah, instead of picking at the parts they thought were bad. Didn’t there? They couldn’t all be mean and nasty. Chances were, it was just like when Claire joined her new school last year and three of the girls there were horrible to her. Claire had assumed that all her classmates were awful, but actually, after a few weeks, she’d made fast friends with some of the nicer ones.

  It was just a matter of finding them. And if Sarah couldn’t do that here, maybe I’d have to give her a helping hand.

  I followed Sarah all the way to the Palace Post Office, where there was a queue for the counter. Apparently it wasn’t all that much different from the normal Post Offices I was used to, after all.

  As we entered the Post Office, I eyed up the other staff members hanging around the counters. After a moment, I spotted a woman about Sarah’s age, with dark hair and even darker eyes, who was sticking stamps on a stack of envelopes. Hmm, how about her? She looked friendly.

  Pushing past a few pairs of legs, I headed towards the woman, knowing that Sarah would follow me. Then I brushed up against the woman’s legs until she looked down.

  ‘Oh!’ she said, surprised. ‘Hello, you.’

  ‘Henry …’ Sarah made it through the crush of people to join us. ‘Sorry, he’s oddly excited about being at the Post Office, it seems!’

  ‘That’s okay.’ The woman smiled at us both. ‘You’re Sarah Morgan, right? The new housemaid?’

  ‘That’s right.’ I could feel Sarah bracing herself – probably for another joke about how she spoke, or a jibe about her family. I sat on her feet and tried to reassure her. She just had to trust me.

  ‘It’s lovely to meet you. I’m Harriet.’ The woman stuck out a hand for Sarah. Sarah, a surprised smile on her face, shook it. ‘I hope you’re settling in here okay – I can see you’ve already made friends with the most important residents!’

  Sarah laughed. ‘I rather think that Henry has adopted me, actually!’

  Harriet stuck the last stamp on her cards, then waved goodbye as she moved to post them in the tall red box in the corner.

  ‘Maybe there are some nice people here, after all,’ Sarah murmured, and I barked my agreement. ‘Come on, Henry. Let’s join the queue.’

  I followed her to the line of people, snaking around the room. As we settled into the queue, the man in front turned around to face us, and I saw Sarah’s face break into a huge smile.

  ‘Oliver!’ she said.

  Of course. Oliver Kinchen-Williams. He’d been nice to her, hadn’t he? And Sarah’s godfather had even told her to seek him out and introduce herself. That had to count as a personal recommendation.

  Oh, I was good. This was two new friends for Sarah in one morning!

  ‘Hello, you two,’ he said, bending down to pat my head. ‘He really has taken a shine to you this one, hasn’t he?’

  Sarah blushed prettily. ‘He seems to have. But then, I’m pretty taken with him too.’

  ‘Lucky boy. So, posting Christmas cards?’ Oliver asked, nodding to the stack of envelopes Sarah was clutching.

  Sarah nodded. ‘It’s the first Christmas I’ve ever spent away from home,’ she admitted. ‘When I took the job … well, it doesn’t matter.’

  ‘Of course it does,’ Oliver said, his tone kind.

  ‘It’s just … I was so excited about being here for Christmas, when I first got the job. All the decorations, the celebrations … everything. But the nearer we get to the big day, the more homesick I seem to feel.’

  ‘It’s a strange thing, being far from home at Christmas. Trust me – I know.’

  ‘Are you from far away?’ Sarah asked, curiously. ‘You sound like you were born and bred in the Palace – not like me!’

  Oliver laughed. ‘I like your accent. Devon?’

  ‘Close,’ Sarah admitted. ‘My parents own a farm in Somerset.’

  ‘How brilliant!’ Oliver said. ‘My parents actually emigrated to New Zealand a few years ago, to run a sheep farm in their retirement. So, while I grew up not very far from here, I still feel a long way from home, sometimes.’

  ‘That’s because home is more about the people than the place, I suppose,’ Sarah said. I knew what she meant. Buckingham Palace would be the most fantastic home anyone could hope for. But without my family there … I just couldn’t feel like I belonged.

  ‘So, which people are you missing this Christmas?’ Oliver asked. ‘Because that’s an awful lot of cards.’

  ‘It was almost a lot more! I figured that people would get a real kick out of seeing a card with the Palace postmark on it, so I sort of wanted to send one to everyone.’ Sarah fanned the cards out so she could read off the names. ‘There’s one for my parents, and my grandparents, of course. My best friend Rachel, and a few other old school friends who’ve moved away now. Everyone at the local church and the local pub – but only one card each for them! Some aunts and uncles, cousins, my godfather Tom, of course, and …’ she trailed off, looking at the last card in her hand.

  ‘Who’s Debbie?’ Oliver asked, reading the name upside down from the envelope.

  ‘My ex-boyfriend, David’s, Mum,’ Sarah said, quietly.

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘Yeah. I wasn’t sure whether to send it … we broke up a few months ago and, well, it wasn’t very pleasant.’ Sarah shook her head, as if shaking away the bad memories. From all the things Sarah had said about him, I had a very bad feeling about this David bloke. ‘But the thing is, I actually knew Debbie before I met David. She runs the local farm shop, you see, so we worked with her a lot, my parents and I. We were friends. Then David came home from university after he graduated, and we got to know each other and, well, the rest is ancient history. But I did feel bad about losing Debbie as a friend, when things ended between David and me.’

  ‘Then it’s kind of you to send a card,’ Oliver said. ‘Christmas is the time for mending bridges, after all.’

  ‘Yes,’ Sarah said slowly, looking up at Oliver with dawning realisation on her face. ‘Yes, it is. And maybe … maybe building new ones, too.’

  ‘Definitely,’ Oliver agreed.

  After the Post Office, I followed Sarah around the Palace for a while as she discovered the whereabouts of the swimming pool and the cinema, carefully noting down the times for the next showing.

  ‘Ooh! Miracle on 34th Street! That’s my favourite,’ she exclaimed, when she saw the poster for a special Christmas cinema night the next day. ‘I wonder if they let dogs in there,’ she added, smiling at me.

  I decided they probably would. After all, I was allowed everywhere else. And I’d always enjoyed film night with the Walkers. It was the one time that everyone sat down together, without anyone having to rush off to work or school or friends’ houses or to do homework. I could curl up on the sofa between them and be sure of a good hour or two of petting and fussing. Absolute bliss. Plus there were al
ways really good snacks, and Jack and Claire were good at sharing them with me.

  I felt a little homesick again just thinking about it. It was good that I had found Sarah – at least we could be homesick together. And maybe she’d meet some more friends at the cinema night – people who liked the same sort of things she did.

  Films – at least the ones I’d watched – always seemed to be about bringing people together, especially if they were set at Christmas. Even the ones Jack liked, where the world was about to be blown up by aliens or whatever, usually featured a group of people who became friends through working together.

  That was what Sarah needed – a friend in the Palace who wasn’t canine. As much as I liked being her best friend, I knew it wasn’t the same as having someone who could actually talk back to her. Besides, hopefully I’d be going home soon, and I didn’t like the idea of leaving Sarah all alone at Buckingham Palace when I left.

  No, I needed to find Sarah a proper human friend. Maybe Harriet from this morning, or one of the other housemaids, or someone from the kitchen staff. Someone she could go swimming with, or take to the cinema to see her favourite film.

  ‘I wonder if Oliver likes films,’ Sarah said, her voice soft and her cheeks pink.

  It was then that I realised. This wasn’t one of Jack’s disaster movies. It was one of the films that Amy and Claire tended to choose for film night – one where a man and a woman kissed under the mistletoe on Christmas Eve, or he chased her through the rain to tell her he loved her. One where everyone lived happily ever after, because they’d found that one person who could make them happier than anyone else in the world.

  Sarah deserved more than just some people at the Palace who didn’t make fun of her. She deserved love. Romance. Someone to make her see how special and lovable she was.

  And Oliver might just be the perfect person to do that, I thought. I had a nose for these things.

  Now I just had to figure out how to make him see that.

  I shook my ears out. How hard could that be? Humans in movies managed it all the time – and I was much cleverer than them.

  All I needed was a plan …

  AMY

  ‘How’s it looking?’ Amy called from the kitchen counter, where she was hastily assembling packed lunches for the three of them. It was cheaper than buying school lunches, of course, but the effort of making them – not to mention finding enough variety to keep Claire happy – was wearing her down all the same. Would it really kill her to just eat cheese and cucumber sandwiches every day, like she had for four years of primary school? Now it had to be pasta salad or chicken wraps or whatever.

  Amy had made herself a cheese and cucumber sandwich instead, mostly out of nostalgia.

  ‘One thousand shares overnight!’ Claire squealed. ‘We’re definitely getting the word out.’

  ‘That’s brilliant, sweetheart.’

  As she hunted for the least dried out clementine to put in Claire’s lunchbox, Sookie twining around her legs and almost tripping her over, Amy’s mobile beeped. She sighed without even checking it. It would be work – again. Flu season had well and truly hit, which meant they had the double whammy of people desperate to get the flu jab they should have got months ago, as well as sick people who wanted to see their doctor or nurse – even if all they would be told was to go back to bed and look after themselves at home. Add in a stomach bug that had knocked out a few of the staff, and work didn’t look like it was going to get any less manic this side of Christmas.

  ‘Let me see.’ Jack swung into the kitchen, his school bag hanging off his arm as he grabbed the chair next to Claire.

  ‘Jack, do you want to get your lunch together?’ Amy asked, hoping that, while she was sure the answer was ‘no’, he might just do it anyway. Just to give her a hand.

  ‘In a minute, Mum.’

  Amy sighed. She knew what ‘in a minute’ meant. It meant ‘I’m just going to leave it so long that you end up doing it anyway so we’re not all late getting out the door.’ She’d been here before.

  ‘Jack, we don’t have time for this. Claire’s already dressed and ready to go, that’s why she’s on the computer. Have you even had breakfast?’

  ‘Not yet. I’ll grab something in a minute.’

  Amy’s phone beeped again, somehow sounding more insistent this time, so she grabbed it rather than responding to Jack again. Maybe if he went to school hungry, he’d listen next time. Except, probably not.

  Flora’s sick now, so I can’t get in today, the text message from Shireen, the surgery receptionist read. Flora was her three-year-old daughter. Can you get in early to open up? I’ve got cover, but they won’t be in until 9.

  Amy’s gaze flicked to her watch. Early? She was going to be lucky to get out of there on time, at this rate.

  I’ll do my best, she texted back, anyway. Wasn’t that what she always did? Her best?

  She just wished it felt like it was enough more often.

  ‘Okay, guys, we really need to get a move on now. Jack, if you want a lift to school you need to be ready to go in fifteen minutes. Claire, same for you.’

  Neither child responded. Of course.

  Sighing loudly, Amy slammed the last of the packed lunches together and slung them onto the kitchen table along with various other ‘must not forget’ items.

  Her phone beeped again, and Amy glared at it – until she opened the message.

  Any news on Henry yet? Luke had written. Oh, and just got Shireen’s message about Flora. I’m on my way in now, so will be there to open up – don’t worry if you’re running late.

  Smiling, Amy typed a reply. Usual morning chaos here, and still no sign of Henry. Thanks for opening up. Don’t know why you’re so good to me!

  Luke’s reply was almost instant. Because you deserve it.

  Amy read the message several times before shoving her phone in her pocket, and turning her attention back to her children.

  ‘A thousand shares is a start,’ Jack was saying, as he took over the laptop trackpad. ‘But we need something more. Something to really catch the public imagination. I mean, London is huge, and Henry could be anywhere. We need to get people out hunting for him, somehow …’

  ‘Or we could all get ready for school and work,’ Amy suggested, and Jack and Claire both glared at her. ‘Look, I’m as desperate to find Henry as you two are, but that doesn’t mean that the rest of the world stops while he’s missing. You still have to go to school. I have to go to work. Meals still need cooking, the house still needs cleaning … We’re doing everything we can to find Henry, okay? But it doesn’t mean we can give up on everything else.’

  There was another beep, and Amy reached for her phone again – but this time, it was coming from the computer.

  ‘Hang on …’ Jack made a few clicks, his expression getting more excited with every one. ‘Wait. Wait. This is it!’

  ‘This is what?’ Amy asked, as Claire tried to elbow her brother out of the way, saying, ‘Let me see! Dad left me in charge of this page, remember? It’s my name on it! You’re just an admin.’

  ‘What is it?’ Amy asked again, impatiently.

  ‘A message! From someone saying that they’ve seen Henry!’ Claire was practically bouncing in her chair with excitement.

  ‘They say they found him wandering around St James’s Park … and they’ve got him safe!’ The same excitement was clear in Jack’s voice, too.

  Amy hurried over to look at the screen. ‘Did they send a photo? Or any other details?’

  ‘No …’ Jack scanned the rest of the message. ‘He’s asking if there’s a reward for finding him. We can give a reward, right?’

  Money. Of course. Didn’t everything come down to money?

  Amy shook her head. Something about this message just didn’t feel right – and she didn’t have the time right now to figure out what it was.

  ‘I don’t know. This person could be anybody,’ she pointed out. She hated to burst their bubbles of hope so soon, but she
didn’t want them to get carried away, either. ‘We need to talk to your father – he set up the page, he might be able to get some more information about who they are.’ And if they wanted a reward, and they really had Henry, well they were definitely going to have to talk to Jim. She barely had enough money to make it through to the end of the month.

  ‘But what if Henry runs away again?’ Claire asked. ‘We need to get him right now!’

  ‘Right now, we all need to go to school and work,’ Amy said, firmly. ‘Jack, forward the message to my email address, and I’ll try to speak to your dad today. Or you could,’ she added, as the thought occurred to her. Jack was quite old enough to handle these things with his dad, but she wouldn’t want him dealing with it alone. ‘Then tonight we’ll decide what to do about it. Together. Okay?’

  ‘Fine,’ Jack said, sulkily. ‘I’ll call Dad.’

  ‘Great. But after school.’ She grabbed her handbag and her lunch from the table. ‘Come on, we’re all going to be late!’

  The kids glowered as they sullenly gathered their things. Amy sighed. She didn’t want to be this person – the nagging mum who made her kids life miserable. But she didn’t want them all to be late or show up to school with no lunch. There had to be a balance, somewhere …

  Suddenly, Amy grinned, as a memory from Christmas pasts came to her.

  ‘Tell you what, I’ll put the Christmas CD on in the car.’

  Jack groaned, but Claire perked up a bit.

  ‘The one I made last year?’ she asked.

  ‘Yep,’ Amy confirmed. ‘And we can sing along as we drive.’ A good sing-song always lifted the spirits, right?

  ‘You’re going to open the windows at traffic lights and traumatise the people in the next cars, aren’t you?’ Jack was rolling his eyes, but Amy knew that secretly he loved it as much as they did.

  ‘Absolutely!’ she said, and Claire squealed with delight.

  Maybe the day wouldn’t be a complete disaster, after all.

  HENRY

  I was still thinking about ways to get Oliver and Sarah together when I returned to the Corgi Room after dinner that night. I knew that it was the right thing to do, but how? It wasn’t easy when I couldn’t just talk to them and make them understand.