‘Really?’ I asked. ‘How.’
‘Fix whatever went wrong.’ Willow shrugged. ‘Simple as that.’
If only it was …
Wait.
Maybe it was.
Just maybe …
I sat up a little straighter, and drew the other dogs’ attention. ‘I’ve got a plan.’
AMY
‘Claire, can you give me a hand with these bags?’ Amy struggled through the front door, shopping bags making her too wide to fit easily through the gap. Where had Claire even gone? She’d been sitting in the car with her just moments ago, but by the time Amy had opened the boot to retrieve the Christmas food shop, Claire had disappeared into the house already. When, exactly, did children learn that skill of being a million miles away at the precise moment they could actually be helpful?
‘Hang on!’ Claire called, from somewhere inside the house.
‘Kind of hard to,’ Amy yelled back. ‘These bags are really heavy!’
Where was Jack when she needed him? Teenage boys weren’t generally the most useful of creatures, but they were really good at carrying shopping bags – if you could find them. He, too, usually managed to turn up just as she finished unpacking the shopping, stopping just long enough to snaffle some sort of snack that would ruin his dinner.
Amy dumped the bags she had onto the kitchen table, then turned round to go back for the rest – only to be stopped by Claire’s squeal.
‘They’ve replied!’ she cried, across the hallway.
Amy hurried through to the lounge, where her daughter was sitting on the sofa with her laptop open on her knee.
‘Who’s replied?’ And to what? With Claire, it could be anything from a new friend at school, to a boy one of her friends liked, to a teacher answering a question about homework. Or, in this case …
‘The Royal Family! Or, well, whoever manages their social media accounts, I suppose.’ Claire turned the screen to show the notification. ‘It’s probably not actually the Queen, is it?’
‘Probably not,’ Amy agreed. ‘She’s probably a bit busy for Twitter. So, what does it say? “@TheRoyalFamily replied to your tweet.” That’s not very informative.’
‘Wait a minute,’ Claire said. ‘That’s just the notification. The actual message should be around about … here.’
Amy couldn’t help the tight, anxious feeling in her stomach as she waited for Claire to open the right tab in her browser and read the tweet. As much as she wanted to believe that this would lead to Henry coming home at last, it seemed like too much of a long shot. Even Christmas miracles were few and far between these days. It was hard to believe that the Walker family would get one, when so many others didn’t.
Just as Amy had been afraid would happen, Claire scanned the message, and her face fell. ‘They say I must be mistaken, but that they hope we’re reunited with our pet soon.’ There was no emotion in her voice, no feeling at all, but Amy knew the disappointment she must be feeling. Mostly because she was feeling it too.
Oh, Henry. Where are you?
Amy hugged her daughter tight, the shopping in the car forgotten for the moment. ‘At least you tried. It was always a long shot, sweetheart. But you gave it your best. That’s all you can do.’
‘But, Mum! They’re wrong!’ There was a desperation in Claire’s voice Amy didn’t like. She was pinning all her hopes on this ridiculous idea of Henry being at Windsor Castle, and as fantastic as that would be, Amy knew it wasn’t going to happen. And now she had to convince Claire of that, too – if only so it didn’t hurt even more later, when it became clearer that Henry was never coming home.
Amy sighed and wished, just for a moment, that she had someone to share this burden with.
‘Claire, think about it logically, sweetheart,’ she said, as gently as she could. ‘Buckingham Palace is one of the most tightly guarded places in the world. But even if Henry had somehow found a way in, someone would have noticed that he didn’t belong there. The Queen must know her own dogs. The Palace staff certainly would. The chances of a strange dog just being allowed to stay at the Palace … they must be astronomical.’
‘I know it’s Henry,’ Claire said stubbornly. ‘And I’m going to prove it.’
So much for talking her out of it, then.
Pushing Amy away, Claire turned back to her laptop.
Amy watched for a moment, then she got to her feet and went back to carrying in the shopping. Alone, since it seemed everyone else had other priorities tonight. She’d done what she could, for now. Claire was a sensible girl. Eventually she’d realise how ridiculous this idea was. And Amy would deal with the crying and the upset when she did.
Amy was just putting the last of the shopping away when she heard Jack come in. When she’d finished, she headed back through to the lounge to check on Claire – and stopped in the doorway.
There on the sofa were her kids, Claire curled up beside Jack, who seemed to have taken over control of the laptop. They were both talking quietly, pointing to things on the screen, debating something or another.
Amy smiled softly. It wasn’t the way she’d have wanted it to happen, but if nothing else, at least all the turmoil of the last few months had brought Jack and Claire closer together.
She just hoped they’d let her in, too.
‘What are you two up to?’ Amy made her way in, and settled onto the edge of the sofa beside them.
‘Getting proof,’ Claire said, sounding determined. That usually boded trouble.
‘Proof of what?’
‘That the Queen stole our dog,’ Jack said.
Amy winced. ‘I’m not sure that—’
‘Look!’ Claire spun the screen round so Amy could see what they’d been working on.
It was two side by side photos of corgis – one, the dog with the crown from the Sunday papers, the other the shot of Henry from last Christmas, wearing a paper cracker crown and the collar Claire had bought him. The same collar that the Queen’s dog seemed to be wearing.
‘How can they deny it?’ Claire asked. ‘It’s clearly the same dog!’
‘And other people are starting to see that too,’ Jack said. ‘I posted the side by side photos online, and people are already sharing and commenting on the Hunt for Henry page.’
Oh, that didn’t sound good. Amy was all for anything that would bring Henry home safely – as long as it didn’t also bring the police to her door on Christmas Eve because she’d accused the Queen of dognapping. Did this count as treason? She wasn’t sure – but it wasn’t really the sort of risk she wanted to take.
‘Maybe we don’t want to make too big a deal about this,’ Amy started, but Jack interrupted her with an uncharacteristic whoop of joy.
‘And it just got picked up by an online news site I sent it to!’ he crowed. ‘Henry is totally going viral.’
‘Oh good,’ Amy said, weakly, and wished she’d bought more mulled wine.
There was just no way this was going to end well.
HENRY
I had to wait a little while to put my plan into action, but I decided that was for the best. It gave me longer to talk the others into it.
Willow, in particular, wasn’t happy with the plan. ‘It doesn’t sound very dignified,’ she said.
‘And I don’t understand why we have to do it at all,’ Vulcan added. ‘Can’t the humans solve their own problems?’
‘Sarah’s been kind to us all,’ Candy put in. ‘We should be kind to her too.’
‘But she’s staff,’ Vulcan whined. Apparently he was never going to get over that distinction.
‘She’s my friend,’ I said firmly. ‘And we are going to help her. And this is how.’
We decided to wait until dinner time to put the plan into action, working on the theory that everything is easier on a full stomach. Plus, feeding us was usually Sarah’s last duty of the day, and I was pretty sure Oliver would have finished work by then, too. It was all coming together perfectly.
But then something else cropped up to disru
pt our plans.
‘Good news! You all get a nice brush and a wash after dinner, ready for Her Majesty coming home tomorrow.’ Sarah was trying to sound cheery, I could tell, but she wasn’t doing a very good job. The final, official confirmation that the Queen would definitely be back at the Palace the next day wasn’t doing wonders for my mood, either.
Candy and I exchanged a glance. I gave a small shake of my head to say, not now. It would have to wait until after the other three at least were all clean and tidy. Then I’d have the perfect chance to put my plan into action. (The fact it might also get me out of yet another grooming session was just an added bonus.)
Sarah took each of us out, one by one, to be bathed, clipped, brushed and dried. Given that we’d all been fully pampered at the parlour just a few days before, I hoped that it wouldn’t take too long. But still, I spent every moment, every second, tense, waiting to put my plan into action. To fix things for Sarah, at last.
Finally, it was my turn. Sarah approached me, my lead in her hand, ready to walk me to where the groomer had set up. As she got closer, I gave the other dogs the nod. ‘You all know what to do.’
Sarah leaned down to clip the lead to my collar and I waited, waited, waited … Now!
The moment she was just about to clip it on, when she was already engaged in bending down so she couldn’t get back up again too quickly, I dodged out of her way and ran for it.
‘Henry! Henry!’ I could just make out her calling my name over the sound of Willow, Candy and Vulcan all barking at the same time. They’d keep Sarah occupied, I knew – just long enough to give me a head start. I didn’t want to get too far ahead, or how would Sarah know where to chase me? But I also knew my legs weren’t long enough to outrun her without a little bit of help.
The barking died down, and I knew that Sarah must be on my tail. Now, the other dogs just had to keep the rest of the staff distracted. The last thing I needed was another member of staff deciding to help out by scooping me up before I got to my planned destination.
Keeping my head down, I raced through the state rooms, not even glancing up at any of the staff dodging out of my way. I didn’t have time to worry about them right now.
‘Henry!’ I heard one of them call, indignantly.
‘That blasted corgi,’ another one muttered. ‘Why did she have to take in another one, anyway?’
In the Blue Drawing Room, I crashed straight into two footmen carrying a giant display of festive greenery, sending white candles and red holly berries flying everywhere. I barked an apology and kept running, even as I heard them yell my name after me.
It was nice to know that everyone in the Palace had got to know me, at least. After ten days in the Palace, apparently I’d made quite an impression. Although I couldn’t see any of them speaking up for me with the Queen, right now …
Then I was in the State Dining Room, ducking under tables and chairs and weaving between legs, desperately trying not to get stood on. I had no more time to worry about what the Queen would think; Sarah was what mattered most now.
Glancing back over my flanks, I saw Sarah dashing after me, and gaining fast. I needed to move.
I ducked through a doorway, and then another and another and soon I was in the private parts of the Palace. I was sure the staircase I was looking for was around here somewhere …
There!
I’d only been up to the staff corridor twice, but that was enough. Finding Oliver’s room, though, that was a little harder. Still, I’ve found that if you bark long and loud enough, eventually everyone will come out to find out what all the noise is about. One by one, the doors to the staff bedrooms opened, as footmen and kitchen staff stared at me – or shouted, depending on their natures.
‘Henry?’ Oliver stood in the open door to his bedroom, looking at me with confusion. ‘What are you—’
I darted between his legs and grabbed a lone shoe from where it sat by his wardrobe. Then I ran again, knowing he’d have to follow me. Oliver was very particular about his clothes, I’d noticed, and his shoes were always perfectly shiny. He wouldn’t risk me destroying one of them – any more than Amy would let me run off with one of her best high heels!
Back down the staircase I flew, fast enough that I could race past Sarah and be ahead again before she even realised what was happening.
‘Henry!’ she called after me. ‘Come back here! It’s only a bath, for heaven’s sake!’
Then I heard another crash, and a thud.
Screeching to a halt, I spun to check that she was okay.
Oliver had obviously caught up faster than I’d anticipated. He and Sarah were sitting practically on top of each other, tangled up at the bottom of the stairs, after what must have been a pretty spectacular crash.
I stayed long enough to hear Oliver ask, ‘Are you okay?’ and Sarah respond, ‘We need to catch Henry.’
They were fine. And so, I ran again.
Back through the hallways, back to the State Rooms, back through the tables and chairs and legs, treading on a few stray holly berries on my way.
As I reached the Grand Staircase, I dodged to one side to avoid hitting a footman, and accidentally caught my collar on the edge of a green garland, twined through the bannister.
‘Henry!’ I heard Sarah call behind me. There wasn’t time to unravel myself, so I kept running – straight into a tall, balding man in a grey suit.
‘What in heaven!’ The man turned to try and see what had hit him, but unfortunately that just helped the garland to wrap around him further.
‘Your Royal Highness!’ Oliver cried, pausing to help unwrap what I realised, a little late, must be one of the Royal Family, here for the lunch. Oops.
Shaking the garland free, I kept running, just a little slower to make sure I didn’t lose Sarah and Oliver. Sure enough, in a few moments they were right behind me again.
My plan was nearly complete. I had Oliver and Sarah together again, working for a common cause – catching me. All I had to do now was get them exactly where I needed them.
I screeched to a halt as I reached the Grand Hall, right by the main entrance. I was panting hard from my exertions, but I knew it had all been worth it. Outside the Palace, snow was just starting to fall, flakes of fluffy white sparkling in the Christmas lights, against the blackness of the night. It was a perfect winter evening – and perfect for romance.
Glancing up, I saw exactly what I was looking for – what I’d seen when I’d explored this area on one of my first days at the Palace. Mistletoe. Even a dog knew what that meant.
Sarah and Oliver ran in behind me, both a little out of breath, and stopped at my side.
‘Henry! What were you thinking?’ Sarah scolded, even as she kneeled at my side to make sure I was okay.
I sat still, and stared up at the ceiling.
‘What’s he looking at?’ Oliver asked, frowning.
They both followed my gaze, and I knew the moment they spotted it, because Sarah’s cheeks turned pink, and Oliver started to smile.
‘I think he’s trying to hint at something,’ Sarah said, still looking at the huge bunch of mistletoe hanging overhead.
Oliver took a step back. ‘I don’t think that would be appropriate. I mean, under the circumstances. Given that you’re, well, back with your ex—’
‘But I’m not!’ Sarah protested. ‘I don’t know what you heard, or saw, or whatever, but David and me – that’s over. Completely. And that’s what I told him when he came to see me. My life is here now.’
‘Really?’ Oliver moved closer. ‘You’re sure?’
‘Surer than I’ve ever been about anything.’ Sarah smiled up at him, and Oliver returned it.
I waited, patiently. I knew what came next. It happened in all the movies I watched with Amy and Claire. Mistletoe plus snow plus confessions from the heart equalled …
Slowly, tentatively, Oliver dipped his head to Sarah’s level. Placing a hand under her chin, he tilted her mouth towards his, and kissed her.
I smiled.
This was why I’d come to Buckingham Palace, even if I’d not known it at the time.
My work here was done. I could leave without worrying about Sarah.
Leaving the two of them kissing under the mistletoe, with the lights from the three Christmas trees twinkling all around them, I headed back up to the Corgi Room. I wanted to spend one more night in my basket, with the dogs who had become my friends – or at least, in Vulcan’s case, no longer my enemies – all around me.
Tomorrow, the Queen would be here.
And who knew what would happen then?
Day 11
Tuesday 24th December
Christmas Eve
HENRY
I slept strangely well (helped by Candy in my basket, again) but woke with butterflies already fluttering around in my stomach. Today I would find out my fate. As soon as breakfast was over, Sarah showed up to take us all for a morning walk, before the Queen came home.
Sarah, I couldn’t help but notice, looked decidedly bright and smiley for someone who’d spent the better part of yesterday evening chasing me all over the Palace.
‘Oh, you,’ she said, grinning at me as she clipped on my lead. ‘Not running off anywhere this morning, are you? I suppose you must have got what you wanted last night. Or what I wanted.’ She placed a kiss between my ears, and led us all off to the garden.
I had to admit to a certain amount of pride in how yesterday evening had turned out. Obviously Oliver and Sarah had worked out all their differences, and I had a feeling that from here on, they wouldn’t let anything so silly come between them again. Those two were made for each other. I was just glad to have helped them realise that.
The only downside was now I had nothing to distract me from what happened next.
‘Are you ready?’ Candy asked me, as we trotted around the gardens in the new fallen snow. ‘To meet Her Majesty, I mean.’
I considered the question carefully, as I took in my surroundings. Here I was, in the grounds of the most opulent building I’d probably ever be allowed in. Me, Henry Walker, living in a Palace. I’d eaten freshly caught and cooked rabbit from shiny silver bowls. I’d been pampered and groomed to within an inch of my life. I’d slept in a special basket kept above ground to avoid draughts. I’d even worn a crown!
Henry the Queen's Corgi Page 19