Jim wasn’t coming back, she knew that. And maybe Henry wasn’t too.
Which mean the only thing left was to suck it up and find her own future. Make a new life in a new situation. Maybe even go on a date, or two. Find things that she wanted to do, just for herself – not because anybody else needed her to.
Find out who Amy was, now.
The New Year was as good a time as any for that.
‘Fine,’ she said. ‘Let me know what time you want them, and where, and I’ll drop them off for you.’ She just hoped the kids would be alright with the new arrangement, too.
‘Great.’ She could hear the relief in Jim’s voice. Some small, mean part of her felt angry about giving him what he wanted, but she forced herself to focus on the bigger picture.
He had a new life. It was time for her to find one for herself, too.
Hanging up the phone, she headed back through to the lounge, where the Muppets had been swapped for something on YouTube, as far as she could tell.
‘What did he want?’ Jack didn’t look at her as he asked the question.
‘Your dad was calling to invite you both over to his new home on New Year’s Day.’ Amy braced herself for the response.
‘What? I’m not going.’ Jack shook his head so hard Amy was half afraid it might come loose.
‘I already told him that you would both be there,’ Amy replied. ‘He’s your father, Jack, and this is important to him. You’re important to him?’
‘Really? Then why did he leave?’ Jack didn’t wait for her answer. ‘And you had no right to tell him I’d be there. I’m not a kid any more, Mum. I get to make my own decisions, you know. And I’m never going to decide that I want to spend the day with him. Never again.’
‘For someone who claims to be an adult, you sound an awful lot like a whiny child,’ Amy snapped, and regretted it almost instantly. ‘I’m sorry. I just—’
But it was too late. Jack threw the TV remote down onto the floor and stalked out, muttering under his breath. She heard his bedroom door slam, and knew that she wouldn’t be seeing him again before morning. Perfect.
Claire looked at her, her gaze full of judgement.
‘I know, I know,’ Amy said, rubbing her forehead. She sighed. ‘Shall we watch more Muppets?’
‘No, thanks.’ Even Claire’s tone was clipped. ‘I’m going to go call Lucy.’
And just like that, Amy was all alone again.
Another perfect festive night in.
Well, at least she got control of the remote.
Amy flipped the Muppets back on, and went to fetch her bags of Christmas presents and wrapping paper. Unlike her children, she didn’t have time to sulk. There was far too much that still needed fixing around here, if she wanted to find that fabled future, where everything didn’t feel so difficult all the time.
Day 9
Sunday 22nd December
HENRY
I felt much cheerier as I trotted out into the gardens with Sarah the next morning. The Palace, after all, had a lot going for it – and I might as well enjoy it. Waking up with Candy in my basket this time, curled around me for warmth, might possibly have had something to do with my good mood, too.
After we’d finished looking at the decorations the night before, Candy and I had retreated back to the Corgi Room, where we found Willow and Vulcan already asleep. Not ready for the night to end, we’d jumped up into my basket, where Candy had whispered stories of royal celebrations and palaces for me, until I’d fallen asleep.
I’d almost forgotten about spotting Jack and Claire altogether, for a time.
After Sarah had fed us that morning, I’d smiled a goodbye at Candy, and followed the housemaid out to keep her company while she worked. But I had high hopes that Candy would fancy another storytelling session again tonight!
As Sarah and I walked out into the gardens we found Oliver waiting for us, a little way along our usual path.
‘Good morning, you two,’ he said, smiling widely as he spotted us. ‘Thought I might meet you guys here.’
Sarah’s answering smile was every bit as bright. ‘Isn’t it a beautiful day?’ She tipped her head up to stare at the bright blue skies, and let the weak winter sun shine on her face.
‘They’re saying it might snow later.’ Oliver fell into step beside us as we continued our walk. ‘I can’t believe it though – look how blue that sky is.’
Sarah shook her head. ‘No. They’re right. I can almost smell it. I just wish it would hurry up.’
Oliver laughed. ‘You sound like a child waiting to build a snowman.’
‘And what’s wrong with that?’ She raised her eyebrows as she waited for an answer.
‘Nothing at all,’ Oliver replied, very sensibly, in my opinion.
We carried on down the path, the three of us walking in step. In so many ways, it felt like the perfect, normal morning – I hoped they would carry on doing this for years to come. Everything seemed perfectly in place.
Which, really, should have been my first sign that it was all about to come crashing down around our ears.
‘Sarah?’ A footman I didn’t recognise approached us. ‘Sarah Morgan?’
She frowned as he grew closer. ‘Is there a problem?’ I could hear the nerves in her voice. Oliver obviously did, too, because he reached out to squeeze her hand.
‘There’s someone at the side entrance demanding to see you,’ the footman said, apologetically. ‘I tried to get him to call you, but he won’t leave. I’m sorry, but I think you’re going to have to deal with him.’
‘Of course.’ Sarah’s frown deepened as we all made our way towards the side entrance.
‘Any idea who it could be?’ Oliver asked.
‘None at all.’
‘I wouldn’t worry about it.’ Oliver gave her a reassuring smile, then let go of Sarah’s hand, but he still stayed close by her side. I was glad. For all Oliver’s reassuring words, I had a very bad feeling about this.
And I was right. As usual.
As we reached the door, Sarah stopped, suddenly, in her tracks, as the man who’d come calling for her came into view. He was wearing jeans and a jumper under a thick jacket, and shifting from foot to foot as if he was cold. Or nervous.
‘David.’ Sarah’s eyes were huge with surprise.
‘Your ex,’ Oliver said, his voice tight.
‘I don’t … I don’t know what he’s doing here.’ Sarah sounded lost and confused. I pressed up against her leg to reassure her that I was still there.
‘I thought that might be the case. But since he says he’s not leaving until you talk to him, I suggest you find out,’ the footman said, opening the gate to let David in. ‘I’ll be on hand if you need any help with him.’
‘Sarah!’ David rushed forward and swept Sarah up into a hug. Oliver stepped back, his smile long gone and his eyes serious.
‘What are you doing here?’ Sarah asked, her face muffled against David’s shoulder. I couldn’t quite tell if she was pleased to see him or not. I’d assumed she wouldn’t be, but she hadn’t pushed him away.
From the look on Oliver’s face, he wasn’t sure either.
‘I’ll … I’ll catch up with you later, Sarah,’ Oliver said.
Sarah spun round, pulling away from David’s arms. ‘Oh, yes. Of course. Thanks, Oliver.’ Then she turned back to David.
I watched Oliver walk away, his shoulders slumped, and hoped that all my hard work hadn’t been for nothing.
Sarah led David into the gardens, so they could walk while they talked. I trotted along at Sarah’s side, of course, my lead still in her hand. I’d been half afraid she might send me back to the Corgi Room. I really didn’t want to leave her alone with her ex-boyfriend, though.
He didn’t look much like Oliver, I thought, studying him. He had dark hair, but that was about where the similarities ended. He was shorter, softer, and his blue eyes were weak and watery. When Oliver looked at you, there was no weakness at all. Oliver knew what he wa
nted, and he worked hard to get it. David, from what little I knew of him from Sarah, didn’t know a good thing when he had it. Even if I hadn’t known anything about him, my stomach told me he wasn’t someone to be trusted.
I had to find a way to get Sarah away from him.
‘Why are you here, David?’ Sarah asked again, when we were a little way away from the Palace, and any prying eyes. She’d stopped walking in the middle of the path, right by one of my favourite bushes to explore.
I tugged on my lead a little, but Sarah stood firm, staring at David. Oh, I didn’t like this at all.
Twisting my head round, I tried to see if there was any way I could wiggle free from the lead attached to my collar. Then I could run for the bush, and Sarah would have to follow me, and she’d forget all about this David fellow.
‘I saw the card you sent to Mum,’ he said, his voice overeager. ‘And of course, I knew what it meant.’
Sarah’s eyes narrowed. ‘Which was?’
I glanced around me again, still looking for an escape, a way to get Sarah away. Maybe if I pulled really hard, really suddenly … I was just studying the best places to run for, when something else caught my eye. Was that someone standing behind the bush, listening in?
‘It meant that you were still thinking about me, even though you moved all the way to London. That we were still linked. Still meant to be together.’ David leaned in closer, and I dashed round to stand between them, so he couldn’t get too close to my Sarah. Or, Oliver’s Sarah, more accurately. ‘I knew it meant that you loved me too.’
‘Wait, what?’ Sarah took a step back, and David almost tripped over me trying to stay close to her. That was surprisingly gratifying.
But then something else grabbed my attention. Had that bush just moved? Yes! It had. There was definitely someone hiding there. But who? And why?
I stared at the mass of green leaves, until I caught a glimpse of red hair, and then the side of a woman’s face.
Jessica. What was she doing here? From the little I knew about her, I couldn’t help but think she was probably looking for another way to cause trouble for Sarah, after Oliver foiled her plot at the corridor party.
But I couldn’t worry about that right now. I had to get Sarah away from David, before he ruined everything for her and Oliver.
‘I made a mistake, letting you go,’ David said, his tone sincere. I still didn’t believe him, though. Nobody who could make Sarah feel as small as he had deserved any second chances at all, as far as I was concerned. ‘I know that now. I realised, when you were gone, how much I still love you. And when I saw that card, I knew it was a sign – a sign that you felt the same. And so, of course I had to come.’
His foot connected with my side as he tried to push me out of the way to get closer to Sarah. I yelped, indignantly, but by the time I’d turned round to consider giving him a good nip on the ankle, it was too late.
David was kissing Sarah.
His hands pressed against her back, holding her tight against him, and I couldn’t see Sarah’s expression at all because his stupid big head was in the way. I barked, as loud as I could, trying to get Sarah to snap out of whatever thrall he had her in, but it was no good.
This was terrible! I hadn’t put all this effort in to showing Sarah how great life at the Palace could be, and how much she deserved that, only to have her go back to the man who told her the exact opposite.
And then, just to make things worse, Jessica stepped out from behind the bush, a vicious smile on her face. I tried to dart away from Sarah to chase Jessica, to stop her before she did anything to get Sarah into trouble. But Sarah still held my lead tight, and I wasn’t going anywhere.
With one last look at the kissing couple, Jessica raced towards the Palace before Sarah even knew she was there. And I was very afraid that I knew exactly where she was going – or rather, who she was going to tell about all she’d seen.
Oliver.
This was a disaster.
AMY
Sunday mornings, Amy had always believed, should be time for lie-ins, coffee, and quiet contemplation. Or, in weeks of great stress, at least a time for pancakes.
After the disaster of Jim’s phone call the night before, Amy had decided this was definitely a pancake morning. So, while the coffee percolated on the kitchen counter, she mixed the ingredients for her famous breakfast pancakes, and hoped there was enough maple syrup left in the bottle to serve all three of them.
Sookie, normally disinterested in cooking unless there was fish involved, twined around her legs as she moved about the kitchen. Amy was starting to get the feeling that the cat had appointed herself family guardian in Henry’s absence – or maybe she was just taking advantage of the lack of dog to spend more time indoors.
Either way, Amy was glad of the company, even if it wasn’t quite the same as having Henry home. Sookie didn’t like walks, for one thing, and Amy was missing the daily fresh air and thinking time. She supposed she could take a walk without a dog, but somehow it never seemed to happen. Luke had even let her borrow Daisy the day before on her lunch break, but the Dalmatian wasn’t nearly as interested in squirrels and smells as Henry was. Plus, Amy had been so terrified of losing someone else’s dog, she hadn’t been able to relax the whole walk.
Luke had laughed when she’d told him that. ‘I’ll have to come with you too, next time, then,’ he’d said, and Amy had smiled.
‘It’s a date,’ she’d replied. Only to then spend the next three hours wondering how much he’d read into that easy slip of the tongue.
She shook her head. She had to concentrate on cooking – not mooning over a divorced doctor who was just being kind to her because he knew what she was going through.
‘Ooh, pancakes!’ Claire’s enthusiasm as she hopped up onto one of the stools by the breakfast bar was enough to brighten Amy’s morning – and distract her from fretting about what she’d said to Luke.
Even Jack looked slightly less grumpy than he had when he thumped down the stairs. He looked at her for a long moment, and Amy held her breath, waiting to hear what he’d have to say. Would it be another rant about his father? Or – heaven forbid – an apology?
Neither, as it turned out.
‘I’ll go fetch the Sunday papers, shall I?’ he said, already grabbing his trainers.
‘That would be lovely,’ Amy said, neutrally. ‘I’ll start flipping pancakes when you get back.’
The Sunday papers were another family tradition. Jim had always liked to have the real thing on a Sunday, rather than just reading the news on their phones or tablets like they did the rest of the week. Jack liked the cartoons and the film and music reviews, Claire liked looking at all the fancy, expensive photos in the colour supplements. And Amy liked that everyone tended to be quiet and happy for half an hour on a Sunday morning, while they all sat around the table together.
‘We haven’t done Sunday papers in months,’ Claire commented, as Jack slammed the front door behind him. ‘Not since … well, not since Dad left.’
‘No,’ Amy said. ‘We haven’t. But it was nice for Jack to offer to fetch the papers, don’t you think? Especially since he’d normally take—’ she cut herself off before she said the name ‘Henry’.
Because Jim wasn’t the only thing still missing from the perfect family portrait, was he?
Amy sighed, and turned back to her pancake mix. One thing at a time.
Jack returned with the papers – and an extra music magazine, Amy noticed – and he and Claire sat at the table divvying them up while Amy heated the pan and added the first dollop of batter.
‘Oooh, look!’ Claire held up the front of the colour supplement for Amy to see. ‘Christmas at Windsor Palace! I bet they have fantastic decorations. Even better than the trees we saw outside Buckingham Palace.’
They had to be better than the tiny fake tree and half a holly garland that she’d put up, Amy thought. She hadn’t even managed to dig out that wicker reindeer of Claire’s. It was just as
well the kids had eaten the chocolates she’d bought for the tree, too. When she’d looked at the tree after they’d all been munched, she’d realised it didn’t even have enough branches to hold them all. And the fake holly garland that she usually wound around the bannister had lost half its leaves – something she suspected might have been Henry’s fault, actually. So now, whenever she looked at it – half bare and still shedding – she thought of Henry and missed him all over again. Which was ridiculous. No one should get that teary over fake greenery.
Claire was still oohing and ahhing over the pictures of Windsor Castle, and Amy leant over her shoulder to take a look as she placed the first plate of pancakes on the table.
‘Oh, look at the corgis!’ They looked so much like Henry it made Amy’s heart hurt. ‘And the Dorgis are pretty cute, too.’
‘Look at this one wearing a crown!’ Claire pointed to the page, then frowned. ‘Wait …’
She leafed quickly through a few pages to find a close-up of the corgi in the crown, this time seated on a throne-like chair, panting up at the camera.
‘Look! Jack, look! It’s Henry!’
Amy’s heart lurched at Claire’s words, at the certainty behind them. Could it be?
But no. That was crazy. Henry had run away, sure – but he hadn’t somehow made his way to Windsor Castle, right?
‘It’s a corgi, Claire,’ Jack said, dismissively. ‘Of course it looks like Henry.’
‘It doesn’t just look like Henry. It is Henry.’ Claire’s mulish certainty didn’t waver for a moment. ‘He’s even wearing the collar I bought him for Christmas last year!’
The collar, Amy had to admit, was distinctive. A red, mock croc leather one with a gold buckle, and a gold tag that just read ‘Henry’. Claire had saved up to buy it for him herself, so he had something special to open on Christmas morning, too. Of course, Henry had been far more taken with the chocolate doggy drops that Jack had bought him, but still. It was the thought that counted.
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