The Snow Puppy and Other Christmas Stories

by Jenny Dale

  7

  Alex was on the doorstep of King Street Kennels just after nine o’clock the next morning. “I hope you don’t mind . . . I wanted to see the puppies.”

  Neil was overjoyed. Perhaps, at last, she was ready to admit that she wanted Holly. Not that she looked particularly happy, he thought as he led the way through the house to the back door.

  “I want to say goodbye to them,” explained Alex sadly. “I expect they’ll all be gone soon and my mum said I’d be upset if I hadn’t seen Holly for one last time . . . She’s probably right.”

  Neil felt a rush of sympathy for Alex as he pulled on his coat and boots. “Come on then,” he said gently, leading the way across the snowy yard.

  The puppies were lying in a contented heap in their basket, fast asleep, when Neil and Alex went into the rescue centre. “They’re so sweet,” Alex said wistfully, watching them through the wire netting.

  At the sound of Alex’s voice, Holly opened her eyes. She jumped out of the basket and raced across to the wire. “She’s pleased to see you,” said Neil. He paused, then added, “She does seem to respond to you more than to anyone else, you know.” Just seeing the two of them together made Neil feel hopeful again. If anyone could persuade Alex to take Holly, it was the pup herself.

  Holly pressed against the wire, whining a greeting. Alex pushed her fingers through and stroked Holly’s silky chest. The Labrador pup licked her hand, then tried to scramble up the inside of the wire towards Alex’s face, her tail wagging vigorously.

  Neil let Alex into the pen, then started to prepare the puppies’ food. Alex sat on the floor with Holly curled up in her lap. She was stroking the pup’s chocolate-brown fur while Holly gazed up at her.

  Neil took the food into the pen and Cracker and Candy woke up. They leapt joyfully out of their basket and raced across to the bowl, yapping with excitement. Holly stood up on Alex’s lap. She hesitated for a moment, watching Alex intently. “Go and get your breakfast, girl,” Alex said, giving her a gentle push.

  Holly jumped down and ran to the bowl, nudging her way in between her brother and sister.

  “They’re great, aren’t they?” said Neil.

  Alex smiled. “Especially Holly. She seems so friendly and intelligent. I bet she’d be really easy to train and—” She broke off and a look of dismay flashed across her face.

  Neil groaned inwardly. One moment he was sure Alex would take Holly, the next he was sure she wouldn’t. “Having another dog wouldn’t make you forget Daisy,” he said at last.

  Alex stood up. “No,” she said firmly. “I don’t want another dog. It would be . . . disloyal.” She headed for the door of the pen but before she reached it, the outer door of the rescue centre opened and Bob showed a middle-aged couple in. “Ah, Neil. There you are,” he said. “Mr and Mrs Grant have come to choose a puppy. They’d like a female one.”

  Alex froze. Then she turned and looked back at Holly, her face stiff with anxiety.

  “Aren’t they adorable?” said Mrs Grant.

  Neil let them into the pen and Mrs Grant bent down and called to the puppies. They looked up from their bowl, hesitated, then continued to eat. “They’ll probably come to you as soon as they’ve finished eating,” Neil told the Grants. “The golden one and the brown one are both girls.”

  He turned to Alex. “Look, why don’t you take Holly?” he whispered urgently. “If you don’t, someone else will pick her.”

  “I don’t want her.” Alex spoke fiercely but her eyes were sad.

  “The brown one’s gorgeous,” said Mr Grant as Holly trotted away from the bowl. He picked her up. “She looks sturdy and intelligent.”

  Mrs Grant picked up Candy. “This one’s lovely, too,” she said, laughing as the pup licked her ear. She turned to her husband. “I can’t decide. You pick.”

  “We’ll have this chocolate one then,” Mr Grant said.

  Alex went pale.

  “Actually,” said Neil quickly, “that one’s already promised to someone. Sorry, I should have made that clear,” he mumbled awkwardly. “But the golden puppy – Candy – is just as sweet, don’t you think?”

  The Grants looked puzzled. “All right,” Mr Grant said, putting Holly down gently and giving her a pat. “We’ll take Candy instead. The colour’s not important and they both seem friendly.”

  “Our daughter’s gone away to college,” Mrs Grant explained as Neil showed them out of the rescue centre. Candy was snuggled in her arms and Neil was pleased to see how well she’d taken to her new owner. “We’ve been lonely without her and we thought a dog would help to fill the gap.”

  “We’re going to bring her to your dad’s obedience classes,” added Mr Grant as they set off across the yard to the office to sign the forms.

  “I’ll see you there, then,” Neil called after them. He went back into the rescue centre. Alex was holding Holly in her arms. As Neil drew near, he saw that she was close to crying.

  “Who’s Holly promised to?” Alex asked in a wobbly voice.

  “You, if you want her,” said Neil gently. “But we really can’t keep her for ever, Alex. The next time somebody wants her, we’ll have to let her go.” He picked up Cracker and made a fuss of him.

  Alex nodded and blinked her tears away. “I know and I don’t want her,” she said decisively. “I really don’t.” She put Holly down in the basket and went out of the pen. “And anyway, my grandad phoned last night. He thinks he knows someone who might like one of them.”

  “That’s great,” said Neil. He put Cracker down beside his water bowl and followed Alex out, shaking his head in confusion.

  “I don’t believe it – the thief has been here again!” Emily cried. “I left four presents under this cushion and now there are only two.” Neil, Emily and Alex had decided to go back to the grotto to check on the presents and to see if they could find any clues to the identity of the thief.

  Alex ran to the Christmas tree. “One’s been taken from here as well,” she said, dismayed.

  “But how on earth did the thief know where to look?” Neil asked, mystified. He looked behind the door, and sure enough, one of the presents he’d left there had vanished as well.

  They exchanged puzzled looks. “Why did he only take some of the presents again?” Emily asked.

  “And this is weird, too,” Neil said. “It hasn’t snowed since last night but I noticed that there was only one set of footprints leading to and from the church. They must be Gavin’s so where are the thief’s?”

  Emily and Alex followed him to the church door. Neil pointed to the tracks. “See?” he said. “Those footprints lead from the vicarage to the church and back again. And there are Jet’s pawprints beside them – although he was obviously running around a bit because his tracks go all over the place.”

  “So the thief must have come back before last night’s snowfall,” Alex said.

  Neil nodded. “It looks like it. Let’s go and ask Gavin if he noticed anything yesterday when he locked up the church for the night.”

  They hurried to the vicarage and rang the bell. “Hello, you lot,” said Gavin as he opened the door for them. “I was just about to go to the hospital to pick up Susie and Joshua. What can I do for you?”

  “Some more presents have disappeared from the grotto,” Neil said.

  Gavin frowned. “You’re joking!” he said. “Even after you’d hidden them? I know they were all there last night when I locked up because I checked them.”

  Neil looked thoughtful. “So that means they must have been taken during the night.”

  “But the church was locked in the night,” said Gavin. “I don’t understand how anyone could have got in . . . Look, I’ve really got to go now. I’ll have to leave you to solve the mystery.”

  Neil, Emily, Alex and Jake made their way back to the church and examined the door for signs of a break-in. But both the door and the lock were undamaged, the windows couldn’t be opened, and none of the panes of glass had been smashed.
r />   “He must have a key then,” Neil said. “It’s the only explanation.”

  “I know! Why don’t we put a sackful of paper by the door, to see if we can lure him into coming back today,” suggested Alex.

  “Good idea,” said Neil, leading the way back to the grotto. He rummaged in the boxes of decorations. “This will do,” he said, pulling out some sheets of dog-eared Christmas wrapping paper.

  They filled the bag with balls of paper and Neil placed it in the doorway. “Let’s hide and keep watch for a bit. The thief must have come at about this time yesterday so it’s worth a try,” he said. He patted Jake. “How about it, boy? Do you fancy a bit of doggy detective work.”

  Jake gave an eager bark and jumped up, putting his front paws on Neil’s chest.

  “Good for you,” laughed Neil.

  “Where shall we hide?” asked Emily.

  They looked round. “Somewhere near the door,” Neil said, “so that we can see people coming and going.” He pointed to a huge, ancient gravestone that was covered in moss. “That one looks big enough to hide us all.”

  As they crouched down behind it, Jet trotted up. “Hello, boy,” Emily said. “Have you come to help?”

  Jet wagged his tail and squeezed in between Emily and Alex while Jake pressed against Neil. “At least we’ve got the dogs to keep us warm,” Neil said in a low voice. “It’s freezing out here.” Though he was wearing gloves, his fingers were already numb with cold and he rubbed his hands together vigorously.

  “As long as they don’t make a noise and give us away,” said Alex.

  They settled down to watch. Out on the road a lorry drove past, puffing out a cloud of dirty exhaust fumes. Birds huddled together on the church roof and they saw an occasional shopper pass by, laden down with bulging bags. But nobody came into the churchyard.

  Jake and Jet grew impatient with the long wait and wandered off to play. Neil could see them now and then, darting in and out amongst the headstones.

  Time passed slowly. Grey clouds were beginning to build up overhead. “I think it’s going to snow again,” Alex said at last.

  They all stared at the sky. “Let’s give up and go home,” said Emily, her teeth chattering. “I’m frozen.” She came out from behind the gravestone and Alex followed her, looking relieved.

  Neil stood up and stretched his cramped legs. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. It doesn’t look as though he’s coming back today,” he admitted reluctantly. He was frustrated that they hadn’t been able to solve the mystery. Keeping watch at night seemed a better bet, though. Surely the thief was more likely to come back then – when he would be pretty sure that there would be no one around to see what he was up to . . .

  “I’m coming back tonight,” said Neil decisively.

  “What, by yourself?” asked Alex.

  Neil nodded.

  “I’ll come with you,” Emily offered.

  “There’s no point in both of us getting frozen. And there’s no point in Mum and Dad getting cross with both of us if they find out, either.”

  “But it’ll be dark. And you’ll be in a graveyard,” Alex persisted.

  “So?” Neil shrugged. “I’ve got to get to the bottom of this.”

  “Won’t you be scared?” asked Alex.

  “I’ll have Jake with me,” Neil pointed out. He whistled and the Border collie came running up to him obediently.

  “Come on,” Emily said impatiently. “If we don’t go home soon, I’m going to turn into an icicle.”

  Snow began to fall, driven across the churchyard by an icy wind. “You won’t come back tonight if it’s snowing like this, will you?” Alex asked, shivering.

  “Of course I will,” said Neil. He wouldn’t let a bit of bad weather put him off. He was determined to catch the thief, and nothing was going to stop him.

  8

  Neil’s alarm clock rang at midnight. He leapt up, startled by the loudness of it, then reached out and switched it off. The house felt cold as he climbed out of bed, and he got ready quickly, shivering uncontrollably.

  When he was dressed Neil picked up his torch, opened his bedroom door a crack and listened. The house was silent. Neil tiptoed along the landing and down the stairs.

  Jake was asleep in the kitchen. He looked up in surprise when Neil crept in but he stood up and trotted to greet him all the same. “Good boy, Jake,” Neil said, clipping on his lead. He unlocked the back door and he and Jake slipped outside.

  It had been snowing all afternoon and the snow in the yard behind the house was almost knee-deep. Neil frowned, knowing that the tracks he and Jake left would give him away unless it snowed again after he got home. Still, he was determined to go ahead with his plan. He set off with his woollen hat pulled down over his ears and his collar turned up, but the icy wind still cut right through him.

  Once he reached the churchyard, he hesitated. By day it had been easy to say that he wouldn’t be scared, but now the moon cast an eerie glow across the snow-covered headstones and he began to feel uneasy. He looked round anxiously. Everything was still. Tentatively, he pushed the gate open and went inside.

  Neil held Jake’s collar as he made his way between the graves, glad of the Border collie’s company. He reached the huge gravestone near the church door, brushed away the snow from behind it and sat down to wait. The gravestone offered some protection from the wind and, with Jake pressed up against him, Neil began to warm up a little.

  “Let’s hope he comes soon, Jake,” he whispered. Jake whined and twisted his head so that he could lick Neil’s cheek.

  The long, silent night wore on but nobody came. At one point Neil heard two men talking softly as they walked along the road towards the church. He stiffened and waited expectantly, but they passed by.

  Neil began to feel sleepy. He shifted his position, knowing it would be dangerous to fall asleep in the cold, but it was hard to stay awake with nothing to do but stare into the darkness. And it seemed to be getting darker. Neil glanced up at the sky. Most of the stars had been blotted out by clouds and the moon was half covered too. He groaned inwardly. Surely it wasn’t going to snow again. Still, at least his tracks would be covered up if it did . . .

  Sure enough, snow began to fall. Neil switched on his torch, hunching over it to shield the light from anyone who might be watching, and looked at his watch. It was ten past two. He switched the torch off again and willed the thief to come. “We’ll give him another quarter of an hour, Jake,” he whispered. “Then we’ll go home.”

  Jake leapt up.

  “What is it, boy?” Neil reached for Jake’s collar, but before he could get hold of it, the young dog dashed away around the side of the church.

  “Jake!” Neil hissed. “Come back!” He scrambled up, knowing he’d got to find Jake. If he had heard the thief, the Border collie could be in danger. Quickly switching on his torch, Neil charged after him.

  The churchyard was shadowy. Neil whirled his torch round, desperately looking for Jake, but the snow was falling fast now and the flakes got into his eyes. He brushed them away impatiently as he ran between the gravestones, swinging the torch from left to right. “Jake, where are you?” he called softly.

  Suddenly Neil saw a dark shape dart behind a gravestone on the far side of the churchyard. He dashed towards it. “Jake,” he hissed. “Here, boy.”

  Then two shapes shot out of the shadows. Neil jumped with fright, his heart hammering. But he soon relaxed as he swung the torch beam round and saw that it was Jake and Jet. Jake was all right! He must have heard Jet coming out through his dog door and run off to play!

  The dogs bounded up to Neil, barking a greeting. “You gave me a scare,” he scolded, patting each of them in turn. Then he clipped on Jake’s lead. “Come on, you two. There’s no point in hanging around here any longer. If the thief was lurking nearby, he’ll have run a mile after that performance.”

  He led Jake to Gavin’s back door and Jet trotted along behind. Neil held the dog flap open. “In you go
, Jet. It’s too cold for you to be out here in the middle of the night.”

  The black Labrador touched noses with Jake, then pushed through the dog flap. Neil let it close behind him and set off home with Jake.

  Neil slept late the next morning. When he got downstairs Carole was clearing the breakfast table. “Morning, sleepyhead,” she said.

  “Morning,” said Neil. She didn’t look angry, he thought with relief, so she obviously didn’t know about his midnight outing yet. He pushed a slice of bread into the toaster.

  “Would you like some hot chocolate?” Carole asked.

  “Yes, please,” Neil said, yawning.

  “Guess what?” Emily called, running into the kitchen. “Someone’s coming from Manchester to see the puppies. A boy called Michael Todd and his mum. They know Alex’s grandad.”

  “Oh . . . that’s good, I suppose,” Neil said hesitantly. He knew he should be pleased at the thought of finding a home for another of the puppies but he was worried too. What if they chose Holly? If they did, he knew Alex would be devastated. And if they chose Cracker, and Alex still refused to have Holly, then the puppy would be alone in the rescue centre for Christmas.

  “Aren’t you pleased?” Emily asked.

  “I am really,” Neil began. “It’s just—”

  “I know,” interrupted Emily. “You think it would be best if Holly went to Alex. But it doesn’t look like she’ll change her mind, and time’s running out.”

  Before Neil could reply, Sarah came rushing into the kitchen, wearing a tinsel ring on her head. “Dad’s going to buy the Christmas tree later. And we’re going to decorate it after tea. And I’m an angel.”

  Neil laughed as he spread butter on his toast. “Does that mean you’re going to be good?”

  “I’m always good,” said Sarah indignantly. “Aren’t I, Mum?”

  “Most of the time,” Carole said, setting Neil’s mug of hot chocolate down on the worktop. “Here you are, Neil. I’ll be out in Kennel Block One. Can you give me a shout when the people from Manchester get here?” She pulled on her coat and went out.