Henry the Queen's Corgi

by Georgie Crawley

  And now I was going to meet the Queen of England. And the Queen would decide my fate.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I answered, honestly. How could anyone ever really be ready for that?

  ‘Probably depends what she says when she realises there’s an imposter in her house,’ Vulcan said, smirking just a little.

  ‘Henry’s not an imposter,’ Candy protested.

  ‘More a … surprise guest,’ Willow said. Which was far nicer than she’d managed on my first few nights here.

  ‘Uninvited guest,’ Vulcan muttered. Which was about the same. Vulcan didn’t change, I thought. Not for anyone. But knowing a bit more about him – who he’d lost, and how he must miss them, as well as his kindness to Sarah last night – made it easier for me to ignore him.

  ‘Either way, I’m not supposed to be here.’ I kicked at a small pile of snow that had built up along the path.

  If the Queen threw me out, I wasn’t going to miss all the fancy food and the Corgi Room or any of that. (Okay, maybe the gravy. Yes, I’d definitely miss the gravy. Maybe she’d let me take the recipe with me?) I was going to miss the friends I’d made here. Oliver and Sarah. Candy and Willow. Even Vulcan. (Okay, maybe not Vulcan.)

  Maybe I was ready to meet the Queen. I just wasn’t sure I was ready to say goodbye.

  After our walk, Sarah began to lead us back up to the Corgi Room – only to be stopped by a harassed-looking Oliver who came running up to meet us.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Sarah moved immediately to his side, resting one hand on his arm.

  Oliver smiled and shook his head. ‘Nothing to worry about. Just the usual Christmas Lunch chaos. But the most important thing right now is: we just got word that the Queen will be returning to the Palace earlier than planned.’ He checked his watch. ‘In fact, they’re about five minutes out. You’re to take the dogs straight to the Grand Entrance to meet her.’

  Sarah’s eyes widened. ‘Me? Are you sure? I’ve never even—’

  ‘They like you,’ Oliver interrupted, his tone soothing and kind. ‘More than any other member of staff here, in fact. Henry especially. They’ll sit and wait with you – and no one else wants to try and make them do that after last night’s antics!’

  ‘Okay, then,’ Sarah said. She still looked a little panicked though, to my eyes.

  ‘Best behaviour, everyone,’ I muttered to the other dogs catching Vulcan roll his eyes. I knew that any messing around now could only get Sarah – or me! – into even more trouble.

  Sarah kept us on our leads as she led us to the Grand Entrance. There, a whole host of activity was taking place, ready for the Queen’s arrival, not to mention the arrival of all the other lunch guests. Sarah stood carefully to one side, while we all sat patiently at her feet. I saw her glance up at the mistletoe and smile, though.

  My heart was pounding against my ribcage, and I knew my ears were almost flat against my head. This was it. The moment I’d been both dreading and hoping for ever since I was brought into the Palace. Any moment now, I would know my fate.

  A rustle of noise went up around the gathered staff, as a long, black car pulled in through the recently opened gates. Without me even asking, Candy, Willow and Vulcan all shuffled round to sit in front of me – although whether they were planning to guard me or hide me, I wasn’t entirely sure. I appreciated their efforts, all the same. Even if I didn’t expect them to work.

  The car slowed to a halt, just before the entrance, and Oliver dashed forward to open the back door. As I watched, a petite, silvery-haired woman wearing a lavender coat and hat stepped out, and everyone waiting to greet her bowed or curtsied.

  Her Majesty Elizabeth the Second, by the Grace of God of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland and of Her other Realms and Territories Queen, Head of the Commonwealth, Defender of the Faith. (Yes, Willow had made me memorise her regnal title. Although heaven only knew when she expected me to actually use it. It wasn’t like I could impress the Queen herself by barking out the list now, was it?)

  She was imposing enough in her own right – not because she was tall or threatening, but rather because she wasn’t. All that dignity, composure and authority enclosed in a rather petite form only made her more impressive.

  Rather like corgis, I suppose.

  But then, the Queen did something that confused everyone – except us dogs. She reached back into the car, and lifted out a small, furry form. Monty the corgi, I presumed. The dog whose place at the Palace I had stolen, without anyone even noticing.

  Nobody said anything, of course, but I could see Sarah’s gaze flicking frantically from the four of us to the dog in Her Majesty’s arms. Oliver was still holding the car door, his mouth hanging open a little.

  Yes, this was most definitely it.

  Her Majesty came straight over to us, placing Monty-the-other-Corgi down on the ground. She greeted Willow, Vulcan and Candy in turn.

  And then she stared at me.

  Not knowing what else to do, I stared back.

  Please, I thought at her, as hard as I could. Please, don’t throw me out. Help me find my family, or let me stay. Just don’t send me out there alone, away from all my friends and family. Please.

  The Queen straightened up to stand tall again, and turned to the assembled staff.

  ‘One seems to have acquired a new corgi, in one’s absence.’

  And that was when real chaos truly broke loose.

  It took a while for the humans to figure out exactly what had happened. The Queen kept all five of us with her in her private study while the matter was being investigated. It seemed that word was spreading around the Palace pretty quickly, though.

  While we waited, Willow, Candy and I explained the events of the last week and a half to Monty, who seemed utterly bemused by the whole thing.

  ‘So you ran away? From your family?’ he asked. ‘Why?’

  ‘I wasn’t running from them, exactly,’ I said. ‘There was just a lot of noise, and I saw a nice fat pigeon to chase … and then there were the gardens to explore …’

  ‘Basically, he’s too nosy for his own good,’ Vulcan sniffed, disapprovingly. He didn’t seem much more impressed with Monty than he had been with me, despite the other dog’s apparently superior pedigree – or rather, his late owner’s.

  Finally, a rather shamefaced woman in a navy suit was shown into the Queen’s study.

  ‘Susan Yeats, Ma’am,’ the footman at the door said, introducing the woman. ‘Marketing Manager here at Buckingham Palace.’

  Susan gave a quick curtsy and waited, her gaze darting round the room, for the Queen to speak first.

  Her Majesty put down her pen, and gave her full attention to Susan. ‘Have we discovered where this rather lovely corgi originated?’

  I shot a smirk to Vulcan. A compliment from the Queen was worth all of his rude comments.

  ‘We think so, Your Majesty.’ Susan stepped forward, holding out a sheet of paper in a shaking hand. ‘It appears that a young girl contacted us a few days ago, upon seeing photos of the dogs at Windsor in the Sunday papers. Apparently they were walking their dog near the Palace a little over a week ago, when he ran off, and they’ve been hunting for him ever since. She recognised her pet, Henry, in the photos and tweeted the Royal Family Twitter account to ask if it could be her dog.’

  Claire! Claire had seen my photo and realised it was me! I wiggled with happiness at the news.

  ‘And I assume they said that was impossible?’ the Queen said, drily.

  Susan winced. ‘Yes, Ma’am.’

  ‘I still don’t fully understand how the staff failed to notice that we had acquired an extra dog, here at the Palace.’

  ‘Um, well, it seems that there was some confusion over your new corgi,’ Susan said, her cheeks pink.

  ‘Over Monty?’ The Queen raised her eyebrows. ‘Are you suggesting that this was Monty’s fault?’

  ‘No! Absolutely not, Ma’am. Only that the staff were not familiar with Monty, so wh
en they found another corgi in the gardens, they assumed that it must be him, and that you’d decided not to take him with you on your trip after all.’

  Steepling her fingers on her desk, the Queen stared at Susan over them. ‘And no one noticed that he was wearing a tag that said Henry?’

  Susan’s blush deepened. ‘As I said, Ma’am, there was some confusion. Over the new dog’s name as well as his location, it seems.’

  Since Monty had informed us, upon his arrival, that his full name was Montague Hercules Henry Pentrose-Smythe, I wasn’t surprised that no one at the Palace had been able to remember it. And Henry was one of his names, at least.

  ‘I see.’ The Queen gave a small shake of the head. ‘This does not seem to have been the finest hour for my staff, does it? But I am sure they will all redeem themselves at this afternoon’s Christmas lunch.’

  ‘I’m sure they will, Ma’am,’ Susan said, nodding a little overenthus‌iastically.

  ‘But first, the question of Henry must be resolved, don’t you think?’ Getting up from her chair, the Queen crossed to where I sat, huddled behind the other dogs. Candy tried to cover me, but the Queen gently nudged her aside.

  I stood up, ready to face my fate.

  ‘He is a very handsome dog,’ the Queen said, petting me. ‘And he seems to have made plenty of friends here at the Palace, from what I’ve heard.’

  ‘Yes, Ma’am,’ Susan said, not mentioning last night’s rampage through the Palace, which was nice of her.

  The Queen sighed. ‘But it would be rather bad form to keep a dog from his family. Especially at this time of year.’ She stood, and turned to face Susan again. ‘I think you’d better find a way to get Henry home in time for Christmas. Don’t you?’

  I barked my agreement. I was going home!

  ‘And see if you can’t make it up to his family for dognapping their pet?’ the Queen added. ‘One really doesn’t want to get a reputation for such behaviour.’

  AMY

  Amy tossed her handbag onto the kitchen table and unwound the scarf from around her neck. Christmas Eve at last. She’d finished her Christmas shopping – finally – and the surgery was closed now until the 27th. She was officially on holiday for at least the next sixty hours, and she planned to relax for every single one of them.

  Well, once she’d finished wrapping the presents.

  Christmas dinner was all ready in the fridge – a smaller spread than most years, admittedly, but the kids liked roast chicken more than turkey, anyway. Probably. And nobody really needed Christmas cake and Christmas pudding, right? Luke had even given her a bottle of her favourite wine to enjoy with it, which was a lovely treat.

  The Christmas stockings might be a little more boring than previous years, but everyone needed shower gel and vitamins, so it wasn’t like they wouldn’t be useful. Jack and Claire had each chosen one gift that they really wanted so, even if that was all she could give them this year, at least Amy knew they’d be appreciated. Even Sookie had a tin of extra special cat food for a Christmas treat, and a new squeaky mouse.

  It would be a quiet, relaxed, small, family Christmas. Even Granny was off on a cruise with Aunty Mary. But that was fine; Amy liked the idea of it just being them, this year. It had been such a hard few months, and things were so different from the year before. It felt right to spend that time together, close and together, building up reserves to burst into the new year and make it great, for all of them.

  Yes, a small family Christmas was perfect.

  The only thing that was still missing, really, was Henry.

  Amy pushed the thought aside as the phone started to ring. It had been nearly two weeks. If Henry hadn’t found his way home by now, it was highly unlikely they’d see him before Christmas. Or ever. Not that she planned on saying that out loud in front of the children any time soon. Christmas was a time for hope. She would let them keep theirs a little longer.

  ‘Hello?’ she said, picking up the phone, her mind still half on timings for cooking the Christmas dinner.

  ‘Ah, hello. Would it be possible to speak to Miss Claire Walker, please.’ The well-bred voice on the other end of the line sounded almost embarrassed to even be asking.

  Amy frowned, all thoughts about preheating and so on dismissed. Who would be calling for Claire on Christmas Eve? ‘Could I ask who is calling?’

  ‘This is Susan Yeats from Buckingham Palace.’

  Oh God. What had those kids done now? She’d known this internet campaign was going to get them into trouble! Amy’s mouth felt dry, as she tried to find the right words to fix whatever had gone wrong.

  ‘Right. Of course. Listen, if this is about the tweets …’

  Jack stuck his head around the lounge door, and Amy made expressive hand motions towards the stairs while mouthing the words ‘Get Claire! Now!’ Jack looked confused, but ran upstairs all the same, hopefully to fetch his sister.

  ‘You have to understand, Ms Yeats, my daughter Claire is only twelve years old, and she’s devastated by the loss of her dog,’ Amy went on, hoping to play into the sympathy vote.

  ‘I understand, Mrs Walker. In fact, that’s why I’m calling—’

  ‘Oh, I know, I know, and I’m so sorry!’ Amy interrupted. ‘I don’t know why she’s so convinced that the dog in the photo is Henry, but she is. I’ve tried to talk to her about it … but it’s Christmas, and she’s just clinging onto hope, I think.’

  Jack and Claire came thundering down the stairs, stopping at the bottom to listen into the call.

  ‘Who is it?’ Claire asked, softly.

  Amy put her hand over the mouthpiece. ‘It’s Buckingham Palace!’

  Claire’s eyes widened.

  ‘Oh hell,’ Jack muttered. ‘Now we’re for it.’

  ‘I totally understand, Mrs Walker,’ Susan said, on the phone. ‘And I promise, no one is in any trouble about the tweets. At least, not at your end. If you could just let me speak to Claire? I’d really like to give her this news myself.’

  Mystified, Amy handed the phone over to Claire.

  ‘Hello?’ Claire said, her voice small. Then she listened for a little while, nodding along to whatever Susan was saying, her eyes getting wider all the time.

  ‘What is it?’ Amy whispered sharply. But Claire didn’t answer.

  Jack was standing right behind his sister, obviously trying to listen in, but by the way he shook his head he wasn’t getting anywhere either.

  What on earth was going on? It couldn’t possibly be … Amy felt a small bubble of hope starting to build in her chest, but she swallowed it down. It didn’t do to expect too much, or let herself hope for anything that mattered. She only ended up disappointed.

  No, most likely the Queen had heard about the missing dog and wanted to send a Christmas card, or something. That was all. And that would be a lovely Christmas surprise for them all, really, wouldn’t it?

  But then Claire’s mouth dropped open, her face lit up, and she started to bounce on the balls of her feet. ‘Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!’

  She dropped the phone, and threw herself into Amy’s arms.

  ‘What’s happened?’ Jack asked, obviously frustrated.

  ‘They’ve found Henry!’ Claire cried. ‘He’s coming home. Tonight!’

  HENRY

  ‘I don’t think I’m ready to say goodbye to him.’ Sarah knelt on the floor before me in the Corgi Room, stroking my fur over and over, like if she was still touching me, I couldn’t leave.

  Oliver placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘No one is ever really ready for goodbye.’

  ‘He’s right,’ Candy said. She was sitting nearby – not in her basket, not right next to me, but close. ‘Goodbyes are the hardest.’

  ‘When we had to say goodbye to Holly, last year …’ Willow shook her head. ‘She was the Queen’s other last Corgi, until Monty – and, well, you. When she died, we knew we probably wouldn’t be getting another brother or sister. That the three of us were all that was left.’ I could
hear the pain in her voice – and I knew Vulcan must be feeling it too. Candy had said he was closer to Holly than any of the others.

  ‘And then you came along,’ Candy added. ‘And everything was different.’

  ‘It’ll be different with Monty, too,’ I said, feeling a little embarrassed by all the emotion. Monty hadn’t been shown to the Corgi Room yet, he was being brushed by the palace staff first.

  ‘He’s not you,’ Candy said, simply.

  Vulcan rolled his eyes. ‘What they’re both trying to say is, the Palace won’t be the same without you. Now, as to whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing … that probably depends on who you ask.’

  I barked a laugh. Trust Vulcan to cut across all the mushy stuff.

  ‘I’ll miss you too,’ I said. ‘All of you.’

  ‘Even Vulcan?’ Candy asked.

  ‘Even Vulcan.’

  I rested my head against Sarah’s knee, and whined a little to show her that I’d miss her, most of all. We’d looked after each other, when we were both new at the Palace, and a little scared and unsure. The thought of never seeing her again made my heart hurt.

  ‘Do you know, if it wasn’t for Henry, I don’t think I’d have ever had the courage to really talk to you,’ she told Oliver.

  ‘If it wasn’t for Henry, I know we wouldn’t have such a romantic story about our first kiss,’ he replied, and Sarah laughed.

  ‘I’m serious,’ she said. ‘He gave me a confidence I couldn’t find on my own. Made me believe I belonged here.’

  ‘And here I was thinking I did that.’ Oliver pretended to look hard done by, until Sarah reached over and squeezed his hand.

  ‘You, too,’ she said. ‘You made this place home for me. Made me believe I could stay – made me want to stay! But Henry … he made me believe in myself.’

  ‘Then we all owe him a lot,’ Oliver said. ‘Because I can’t imagine not having you in my life. But I know that it wasn’t all me, or even all Henry, that helped you find your place here.’