Читать книгу A Visitor at the Palace: The perfect feel-good royal romance to read this summer - Georgie Crawley, Georgie Crawley - Страница 12

For a moment, when I woke, I wasn’t sure where I was. The basket I’d fallen asleep in felt too soft, too comfortable, to be my own, battered one. And the room was too quiet – no radio blaring out from the kitchen, or Jack thumping down the stairs.

It didn’t feel like home at all.

Then I opened my eyes, and everything that had happened the previous day came back to me.

After the grumpy man had deposited me at the Corgi Room, it hadn’t taken me long to realise the mistake he’d made. He thought I belonged here, at the Palace, so he’d brought me to where all the other dogs lived – instead of taking me back to the Walkers like I’d hoped.

Where were they now, my family? Had they left without me? Or were they still waiting, searching for me?

What if they thought I’d meant to run off and leave them, like Jim had? I hoped they all knew I loved them far too much to ever do that.

Spending a night in a Palace might be a very big adventure for a rather small dog, but it did make me miss my real life, and my family, just a bit. Who knew what sort of trouble they’d all get into without me there to look after them?

Who would make sure Amy took her daily walks? Or curl up with her to watch romantic movies on Friday nights? Who would eat Claire’s leftovers at dinner, when she smuggled them under the table when Amy wasn’t looking? Who would keep Claire company at night, when she was sad and needed a snuggly, furry body beside her for comfort? She might be too old for teddy bears (most of the time) but she certainly wasn’t too old for me. And most important of all, who would listen to Jack talking about how he missed his dad? I knew he didn’t want anyone else to know that he felt that way. But he needed someone to talk to. He needed me.

They all did.

But it looked like the Walkers would have to learn to manage without me, at least for a little while. Just until I could straighten out this mistake and find my way home.

And in the meantime, since I was in the Palace … I might as well make the most of it. It couldn’t be long now before someone realised what had happened and Amy arrived to take me home again. Yes, there was nothing to worry about.

Not yet, anyway.

Stretching out in my super-soft basket, I took in the rest of the room around me.

Given how grand the Palace was, maybe I shouldn’t have been so surprised that the Corgi Room was every bit as luxurious – but I was. Each of the dogs had its own wicker basket, raised a little above the ground for some reason. It made me wonder whose basket I’d borrowed – and when they’d be back to claim it.

Of course! The moment that happened, that was when the humans at the Palace would realise they’d made a mistake, and then I’d be taken home to the Walkers. It was only a matter of time, really.

Except, of course, that while the humans might not have realised they had the wrong dog yet, the other dogs were a lot smarter. It wouldn’t take them nearly as long, I was sure.

There were, as far as I could tell from my observations the evening before, three other dogs in the Palace – one corgi like me, and two others who looked a little like corgis, but not quite. They had longer faces, and bodies, and sat even lower to the ground than I did. I’d intended to ask their breed, but given the suspicious looks they’d given me at dinner the night before, I’d decided to hold off until they got to know me better.

But apparently the Palace dogs didn’t like to wait.

Sitting bolt upright in my basket, I realised the other three dogs were staring at me, no friendliness at all in their gazes.

‘So. You’re the new dog, then,’ the corgi said, spitting out the word ‘new’ like it was a mouldy dog biscuit.

‘Um, sort of?’ I needed to find out what the situation here was before I let slip the truth about my unorthodox arrival.

‘Thought you were supposed to be going with Her on the trip,’ one of the other dogs said. ‘Special treatment and all that.’

Hadn’t the grumpy man yesterday said something about thinking I’d gone with Her Majesty? ‘There was a change of plan,’ I said, thinking how very true that was.

‘Not so special after all, then,’ the third dog said. ‘Well, suppose we’d better get used to you being around. I’m Candy. That’s Vulcan, and this’ – she nodded towards the corgi in the middle – ‘this is Willow.’

Candy seemed friendly, so I decided to try to get some more information out of her. ‘Great names,’ I said. ‘And it’s always lovely to meet another corgi. What’s your breed, Candy?’

‘Vulcan and I are Dorgis,’ she explained. ‘Half dachshund, half corgi.’

Well, that explained the low to the ground thing.

‘It is customary, when someone gives you their name, to return the pleasantry,’ Willow said, in a very high and mighty voice. She almost sounded like Sookie.

‘The what now?’ I asked, having not quite followed the question.

Vulcan rolled his eyes. ‘Your name. It would be polite for you to tell us your name, now you know ours.’

‘Oh, sorry. Henry,’ I said, automatically. ‘Pleased to meet you.’

Willow’s head shot up at that, and she stepped forward to study me more carefully. ‘Henry, is it? We were told the new dog was called Monty.’

Ah. Now I was for it.

I gave a wide, doggy smile, and prepared to charm my way out of it – the way I did with Amy when the odd songbird ended up dead in the back garden. ‘It’s sort of a funny story, actually.’

I related the events of the day before in as entertaining manner as I could. Willow, Candy and Vulcan didn’t find it very funny, unfortunately.

‘So you’re an imposter,’ Vulcan said, staring down his long nose at me.

‘An intruder, even,’ Candy added. She’d seemed like the friendliest of them all to start with, but now she looked anything but. Her eyes had turned cold, and there was no hint of a wag in her stumpy tail.

‘I like to think of myself more as an … unexpected guest,’ I said, trying to make it sound like a joke.

‘We don’t let just anyone into Buckingham Palace, you know,’ Vulcan said. He seemed by far the grumpiest of the dogs, and with the shortest legs. Maybe he had short dog syndrome, I mused. A need to feel more important than he was.

Mind you, he was a Royal Pet. That had to count for something.

Candy and Vulcan turned to Willow, presumably for guidance on what to do next. The only other corgi in the room was clearly the leader of the pack – understandably. Corgis are always the dogs you want to turn to for leadership and good sense.

I just hoped that Willow would come down on my side. She didn’t seem any happier about my presence in the Palace than Vulcan was.

‘Well, I suppose this will all get cleared up when She returns, and tosses you back out onto the streets where you belong.’ Willow sniffed. ‘Until then … it does indeed appear that we have an unwelcome guest.’

Candy and Vulcan echoed the sniff, and turned their backs on me, all three of them padding off towards their own baskets. Willow had made her opinion clear – and the others would follow it.

So much for my making new friends while I was at the Palace. The dogs all hated me and She, whoever she was, would be throwing me out again in no time.

It seemed I was unwanted, unwelcome, and worst of all – unable to get home to my family.

Well. They might have ideas about the sort of dog I wasn’t, but clearly they had no idea what sort of a corgi I was.

Because I wasn’t the sort of corgi who gave up that easily. And they’d all learn that soon enough.

‘I bet you lovely creatures are ready for breakfast, right?’

I raised my head from my paws and saw a blonde human with a bag of dog food standing in the doorway to the Corgi Room.

My saviour!

Who needed the pampered Palace pets, anyway? All I needed was a human that could see sense. I bounded over towards her, hoping I could make her understand, somehow, that I wasn’t meant to be there. That I needed to go home.

She smiled, and bent down to pat my fur. ‘You must be our new boy! I heard you’d decided to stay with us at the Palace after all. Good choice. What was your name again?’ Lifting the tag from my collar, she read it out. ‘Henry. Very royal. Very appropriate. Well, I’m Sarah. Sarah Morgan. Pleased to meet you, Henry.’

She held out a hand and I raised a paw to meet it, glad that shaking hands was the one trick Jack had insisted I learn. It meant I didn’t feel totally out of my depth here, even if everything about Buckingham Palace was new and strange – and Willow had ideas about how a corgi was supposed to behave that I apparently could never match up to.

Pulling four silver-coloured bowls from the shelf on the wall, Sarah laid them on the floor in front of us.

‘Now, I believe there’s a very strict order for this,’ she said, smiling. ‘But I’m afraid I’m new here too, so you’ll have to forgive me if I get it wrong.’

She shook the dry, meaty food into the first bowl. It didn’t look like the food we’d had at dinner the night before, but to be honest I’d been too scared and lost to even notice what I was eating then. In fact, I’d left most of it – meaning I was starving now.

I would have jumped forward at once to start eating, but the other three dogs held back, so I waited too. Obviously this was another Palace rule I didn’t understand. I mean, really – who waited for food?

Once the bowls were filled, Sarah stepped back and looked at us. ‘Do I need to say something? Um … eat?’

I jerked forward, but Vulcan and Candy both barked at me. ‘Not you,’ Candy said, sharply.

I backed off, and Willow stepped delicately forward, dipping her muzzle into the bowl before her and eating.

Looking more closely at the bowls, I realised they all had a name inscribed on the front of them – all except mine. Maybe they hadn’t got around to engraving the missing Monty’s bowl yet – or maybe they’d taken it with them and this was a spare. I didn’t know.

I did know it was still empty. And I was beginning to think it might be a while before it was my turn.

I was right. Next up was Vulcan, and then Candy. Both took their time eating their breakfast – probably just to annoy me. Then, finally, Sarah filled my bowl and the other dogs moved aside to let me tuck in.

Sarah laughed as I demolished the food. ‘You were hungry, huh, boy?’

I would have barked a yes, but I was too busy eating. The food was fantastic – even for dry food. Meaty and moist and filling and tasty. Just what a hungry and lost corgi needed.

Eventually, the bowl was empty. I looked up pleadingly at Sarah. It was my best look, the one that made Amy crumble every time, but Sarah was already putting the food bag away.

‘Sorry, Henry,’ she said. ‘I might be new, but even I know that rule. Only one bowl of food, and that’s it until dinner.’ She placed the bag back on the shelf and collected up the bowls. ‘See you guys later, if I’m lucky. I’m hoping that, with Her Majesty away, I might be allowed to feed you your dinner, too. I heard the chef is making you rabbit, tonight.’

She turned and left, my stomach rumbling at the very idea of rabbit. In fact, I was so distracted by the idea of dinner, it took me a moment to realise that she’d left the door open, and the other three were trotting towards it confidently.

Was this a mistake? Maybe Sarah didn’t know that the door was meant to be closed. Or, were we really allowed to go out and explore the Palace? It seemed unlikely – the whole place was too ornate, too special, for four dogs to just go wandering around. Wasn’t it?

Willow, Candy and Vulcan obviously didn’t share my concerns. They were already through the open door and out into the corridor. I paused for just a moment before following them.

Unsure of where to go, I padded along behind the other three until we reached the stairs I’d climbed up the day before.

Vulcan looked back over his flanks. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’

‘Um, downstairs?’ I hazarded a guess.

‘Okay then,’ Candy said and, before I could figure out what was happening, all three of them had turned tail and were heading along the corridor in the opposite direction to the Corgi Room. As I watched, a man in the same sort of suit Grumpy Man had worn the day before held a door open for the procession of one corgi and two Dorgis. They trotted through, imperiously, as if they were the Queen themselves, rather than just the Queen’s dogs.

The man looked at me curiously, obviously waiting to see if I’d follow. But I couldn’t. I wasn’t going to go anywhere I wasn’t wanted.

Which meant I just needed to find somewhere that I was wanted.

Turning away from the door, I padded down the stairs, front paws then back to manage the wide steps. Maybe downstairs would be more fun.

I took a few wrong turns before I found my way to the red room I’d entered through the day before, and then I found the door I’d come in through was closed. I looked around for a helpful man to open it, but I couldn’t see any.

Pressing my nose up against the glass of the door, I stared out at the gardens longingly. They’d been so tempting yesterday, I couldn’t help but follow that pigeon into them. Even now, I knew, if someone opened this door for me I’d race out and run around for all I was worth. I’m an outdoor dog, you see. As luxurious as this Palace was, the gardens were still my favourite bit so far.

Even if they had taken me away from my family.

Were they looking for me? I hadn’t really gone so far from where they were. I’d have thought they’d have just knocked on the door and asked if anyone had seen me. Then the grumpy man might have realised his mistake and given me back.

Sookie would be glad I was gone, anyway.

The thought of Sookie made me smile for a second, unexpectedly. Sookie, moggy that she was, would have loved the Palace. She’d have thought it was exactly where she belonged. She could do imperious even better than the Royal Dogs.

Sookie would fit right in at Buckingham Palace; I didn’t think I ever would.

No, I couldn’t think like that. If I’d found a way into the Palace, I could find a way out, too. A way home.

I knew that Buckingham Palace was a lot larger than my home, but I had no idea how much bigger until I started exploring. I stayed on the ground floor to start with, padding through luxurious room after luxurious room, all of them far bigger than any room at the Walkers’ house.

Everywhere I looked something sparkled gold or silver, or shone with lights. Under my paws, the carpets were deep and soft, and mostly a dark, rich red.

Every person I saw moved out of my way to let me trot past, like I really was one of the royal pets. And as much as I wanted someone to realise that I didn’t belong there, the fact that they didn’t gave me the confidence to continue my expedition.

Somewhere, there had to be a door that was open. One that I could escape through and find my family again. I just had to find it.

On my travels, I came across a room with a large, dark wood table in the centre, piled high with shiny silver objects. As I approached, I saw a woman wearing the same uniform that Sarah had on that morning, bustling the other way, muttering something about polish. Intrigued, I headed in.

The stack of silver on the table looked like pirate treasure from one of the movies that Jack loved to watch when he was younger, all gleaming in the sunlight from the windows. At the top of one pile, I spotted a silver bowl that looked a bit like the ones Sarah had fed us our breakfast in. Tilting my head to the side, I considered it.

It was unlikely that it still had food in it, all the way up there, right? But it would be silly not to check. Just in case. After all, once I found my escape route, I’d need all my energy to get home. A little extra food wouldn’t go amiss, in that case.

Hopping up onto a nearby chair, I pressed my front paws up against the table and peered up at the pile of silver. Still too far away to tell if there was any food waiting at the top of that pile of treasure.

In Jack’s movies, the treasure was always worth the risk it took to get it. I figured the same probably applied here.

With a quick glance around to make sure that no one was watching, I hopped up onto the table itself, and tentatively began to climb the pile of silver, trying to reach that bowl at the top. I balanced myself carefully between the items, making sure to keep my weight even as I climbed. The only thing I hadn’t counted on was that silver is slippy. And loud.

Just as I came within a whisker of that elusive bowl, my back paw slipped on a plate below, and suddenly everything was moving. I grappled with my claws against the dishes and plates, but it was no good – with an enormous crash, the pile of silver I was scaling smashed to the floor – sending me tumbling after it.

The bowl I’d been aiming for landed smack bang on my head.

It was empty.

‘What on earth!’ Another two members of the Palace staff came racing in to see what the commotion was, and so I decided that it was probably time to scarper. Racing between their legs, I headed back the way I’d come.

Maybe one of the other dogs would know of a way out of the Palace. They seemed as eager for me to leave as I was.

Of course, I had no idea where they were, so I had little choice but to head back to the Corgi Room and wait for them.

My paws felt heavy as I climbed the stairs back to the Corgi Room. I’d barely explored a fraction of the Palace, but already I knew there was far more to this building than I could hope to see in one day.

The door to the Corgi Room was open, at least, so I slunk in and found myself alone. Settling down into my basket, I curled up and waited for one of the others to come back and help me find a way out.

But as I lay there, another, terrible thought occurred to me.

Willow had said that when She returned – whoever She was, but I was guessing probably the Queen – I’d be thrown out into the streets the minute they realised I wasn’t the real Monty. Which was fine by me, as I’d get to go home.

Except … I didn’t know my way around London, and I certainly didn’t know how to get back to the Walkers’ without help. I knew we’d come in on a train, but how would I tell which one? And even if I could, I was fairly sure they wouldn’t let me on without a human.

My grand plan of escaping was a bust – even if I could find an open door.

No, I had to try and make the best of things here at the Palace until Amy could find me – if she was even looking. And if she wasn’t … well, I was a charming dog. Maybe if I made enough friends here, they’d let me stay.

Which meant winning over Willow and the Dorgis.

Not likely.

Before I could follow this line of thought any further, a shadow appeared in the doorway. Willow.

‘Where are your henchmen?’ I asked, getting to my paws.

Willow shook her head. ‘They’re not henchmen. They’re family.’

‘And I’m not. I get it.’

‘You’re … not like us,’ Willow said, with more diplomacy than I’d heard from her so far. ‘But apparently it seems you’re going to be staying a while.’

‘You just figured that out?’ I said, channelling my inner Sookie to get the sarcastic tone just right.

‘I heard one of the footmen talking,’ Willow explained. ‘The one that held the door for us by the stairs. He said that the new dog didn’t seem to be fitting in very well, and perhaps She should have taken you with her after all.’

‘So?’

‘So, I’d assumed that the humans, like us, would have been able to see through your lack of breeding and realised you weren’t Monty. Apparently I was giving them too much credit.’

‘Sarah didn’t notice,’ I pointed out. ‘Why would you think a footman would?’ Presumably, the grumpy man from yesterday was a footman, then. There seemed to be a few of them running around the Palace. I wondered what their jobs were.

‘Well, she’s like you, isn’t she?’ Willow said.

‘You mean new?’

‘I mean … an outsider. She wasn’t born to this. She doesn’t know how it all works, yet.’ Willow hopped up into her own basket, turning around a few times before settling down. ‘She’ll learn, or she’ll leave.’

Also like me, I realised. If I wanted to stay here long enough for the Walkers to find me, I needed to fit in, so they didn’t realise I wasn’t Monty. Which meant learning more about the place.

And I knew just the person to teach me.

‘So, tell me about Monty,’ I said, jumping down to pad over towards Willow’s basket. I settled myself on the carpet below where her wicker basket rested just a little above the ground. ‘And this place. How come you all get your own room? And what’s with the baskets not being on the floor?’

All valid questions, I thought – and I had plenty more. But Willow gave me a look like I was the stupidest dog in the world. Which she probably thought I was.

‘Monty is the latest addition to our pack,’ Willow said. ‘We haven’t actually met him properly yet, but given his pedigree, and his previous owners, I’m sure he’ll fit in fine. He’ll understand the hierarchy, for a start.’

‘The hierarchy?’ Maybe I really was as clueless as Willow thought. I had no idea what that word even meant.

‘Of course. The dog who has been here the longest – me, in this case – is the leader. The queen, as it were. The others follow in the order in which they arrived.’

‘So Vulcan, Candy then me,’ I guessed. ‘That explains the order for breakfast and such. I didn’t even notice last night.’

‘Well, you were late,’ Willow pointed out. ‘Another mark against you. Punctuality is a virtue – especially where dinner is concerned.’

That, we could both agree on. ‘So, Monty would be at the bottom of the pack too, then?’ I supposed that made sense. Sookie had been with the Walkers for a year longer than I had, and she always made it clear that she thought she was the leader, too. Of course, Sookie would probably have done that even if I’d been there years before her. That was just Sookie.

Was it weird that I was actually starting to miss that mean old cat?

‘Of course. Besides, Monty isn’t really a Royal Pet, you know.’ Willow leant out of her basket slightly, talking down to me as if exchanging top-secret information (like where the treats were kept). ‘She decided a few years ago that She wouldn’t get any more pets – I mean, obviously we were companionship enough for Her, so why would She need them?’

‘But She got Monty.’

‘Yes.’ Willow pulled a face. ‘But only because She’s so kind-hearted. His previous owner was a friend of Hers – an earl, of course – and when he died She offered to take him in. She explained it all to us first, of course.’

‘She sounds kind,’ I said. I’d never really thought all that much about the Queen before, but given the luxurious surroundings She gave her dogs, I supposed She must be.

‘She is the kindest human, or owner, any dog could hope to have,’ Willow said, firmly, as if daring me to doubt it.

I didn’t.

‘It was Her mother, you know, who set out our routine.’

‘Her mother?’

‘The Queen Mother,’ Willow clarified, although it still meant nothing to me. ‘She recognised our superior qualities, as a breed, I suppose, and made sure that the Royal Dogs would live a life suited to their status.’

‘Such as baskets raised off the floor?’

‘To avoid draughts.’

‘And I suppose you get all sorts of treat foods and things, right?’ I said hopefully. Maybe something good could come of this adventure, after all. ‘Scraps from the Queen’s table, doggy chocolate drops, that sort of thing?’

Willow looked scandalised. ‘Not at all! We have a very strict diet, developed specially for us and our well-being. She would never dream of doing anything less.’

I sank down onto my haunches. ‘Strict diet’ didn’t sound like a lot of fun, if I was honest.

‘It’s not what you’re used to, of course,’ Willow said. ‘I suppose you must – what? Hunt for your own food? Raid the bins, or what have you?’

Now it was my turn to look horrified. ‘Of course not!’ Although, actually … ‘Well, not if I don’t want to.’

‘So you have an owner, then.’

‘Yes, of course I do. I told you this morning – the Walkers.’

Willow looked at me blankly.

‘My family. Jim and Amy and Jack and Claire.’

Willow gave a small shrug. ‘I thought they were just like our walkers. People who walk us, when She is busy.’

‘They’re much, much more than that,’ I said. ‘They’re like She is to you.’

‘I wouldn’t go that far,’ Willow said.

‘I would.’

‘Hmm.’ She eyed me carefully for a few moments. ‘I suppose you want to get back to them, then.’

‘Very much.’ I’d spent a restless night imagining how they’d all be coping without me. And whether Sookie had stolen my favourite squeaky toy yet. ‘The last place I saw them was just outside the Palace, before we got … separated. I’ve spent today searching for an open door out of here … except I realised, I don’t know where I’d go if I found one. So instead I’m hoping that Amy will keep looking for me, and realise I must be here in the end, and come calling to pick me up.’

‘Which means you have to stay here long enough for that to happen,’ Willow surmised.

‘Exactly.’

She gave a doggy sigh. ‘Well, in that case, I suppose I’d better fill you in on how we do things around here. See if we can stop you standing out quite so much.’

‘Is it really so obvious that I don’t belong here?’ I asked. Surely, when you got down to it, a dog was as good as any other dog, after all.

But Willow laughed. ‘Of course! Only truly special dogs get to live the life of a Royal Pet, you know.’

And, I realised, in Willow’s eyes, I was nothing special at all.

Showed what little she knew, right?

Later, when dinner time came around, I was prepared. And also starving.

Willow had patiently (and patronisingly) talked me through a day at the Palace, giving me a little history along the way. Tomorrow, she promised, she’d take me with her so she could ‘train me up properly’ – a phrase I disliked immediately. After all, the Walkers had already trained me. I didn’t need some posh corgi telling me how to do things.

But then Willow had added, ‘If you’re going to be a Royal Pet, you’re going to have to learn a whole new lifestyle, you realise.’ She surveyed me, and sighed. ‘I’ve never had to work with such raw material before, but I suppose I’ll see what I can do. A good teacher should be able to instruct even the roughest of dogs, and you are, at least, a corgi.’

The one thing we had in common. Our breed. But even that didn’t seem to be enough to satisfy Willow. Willow, I’d realised quickly, was a snob. And her snobbishness had rubbed off on the other two dogs, too.

‘So gracious of you,’ I’d muttered. Oh well. At least following the other dogs around might be more entertaining than being shunned and ignored by them. ‘Now, why don’t you start by telling me about dinner?’

I already knew about the order for eating, but now I understood a little more about why.

‘Normally, we’d eat dinner in Her sitting room, and She’d feed us Herself,’ Willow had explained. ‘But She’s away at the moment, which is why we have the rather unsatisfactory Sarah feeding us instead.’

‘Does She go away often?’ I’d asked.

‘Yes,’ Willow had replied. ‘But normally She takes us with Her.’

I could tell that this was something of a sore point for the other dogs. They weren’t used to being left behind, and the idea that the New Dog, Monty, had got to travel with their beloved Queen when they hadn’t was obviously ruff-ling their fur.

That could be my way in, I decided. A way to make friends with these dogs. They’d been left behind, too – although not in quite such a spectacular manner as I had. But still, it was the one thing we had in common.

I just hoped it would be enough.

At dinner time, Sarah arrived, smiling again – although her eyes were a little bit red.

‘How are you settling in, Henry?’ she asked, leaning down to pat my head. I nuzzled into her hand, happy for the contact. None of the other dogs had let me close enough to touch them, and none of the footmen or other humans I’d encountered on my jaunt around the Palace had wanted to get near me at all. It was as if they thought I might bite them or something!

But Sarah had no such concerns. She took time to give my ears a good scratching, and when I rolled over onto my back she even rubbed my tummy.

It was the happiest I’d been since I arrived at the Palace. Even if the others were looking on disapprovingly, I didn’t care if I’d broken another rule.

Soon, there was a knock on the door and Sarah said, ‘Time to go!’

We were led along the corridor a little way to outside a door that – according to Willow’s information – must lead to the Queen’s sitting room. Sarah and a man in uniform laid a plastic sheet over the carpet, then set out the four silver bowls – three with names, one without.

‘Is that straight, John?’ Sarah asked. ‘Sorry, it is John, right?’

‘It is.’ The man straightened the plastic until it lay perfectly against the carpet, lined up with the wall on both sides. He didn’t ask her name, I realised. Candy and Vulcan probably wouldn’t approve of that.

But I wasn’t bothered about protocol, right then. Already, I could smell something wonderful. Rabbit, Sarah had said. But this smelled richer, meatier, than any dog food I’d ever sniffed at before.

The man – John – filled the bowls with the juiciest looking food I’d ever seen. My mouth watered just at the sight of it. But I knew from earlier that I couldn’t just dive in and eat – as much as I wanted to.

But what if the others ate my food too? Or dragged out their own meals so long that there wasn’t time for me to eat? I wouldn’t put it past them. It was the sort of thing that Sookie would try – and these dogs reminded me an awful lot of Amy’s cat. (And no, that wasn’t a compliment.)

These thoughts tugged at my brain and, as much as I tried to resist, I couldn’t help lunging forward, desperate to taste the delicious food in front of me.

‘Ah-ah!’ John said, sternly. ‘In order, please.’

Chastised, I slunk back, saliva practically dripping from my jaws. I could hear the other dogs muttering uncomplimentary things about me behind my back.

‘It seems so mean, making them wait,’ Sarah said, as Willow stepped daintily forward to begin her feast. ‘They look so hungry.’

John gave her a scornful look. ‘These dogs are the most spoilt and pampered pooches in the land. Look at them, they eat better than I do!’

‘Don’t you eat here at the Palace too?’ Sarah asked, innocently. ‘I think the food here is just marvellous.’

‘That’s not the point. The point is … they’re dogs, not princes and princesses. They get their special raised baskets, their specially designed menu, all cooked from scratch by the chef with the finest ingredients. They get to go wherever they like in the Palace, with no one to stop them, even when they have their little accidents on the carpets and somebody has to clean up after them. And they get brushed by the Queen herself! Trust me. There’s no need to pity these dogs.’

‘I suppose not,’ Sarah said, but she didn’t sound completely convinced.

Her bowl licked clean, Willow stepped back, and the man called Vulcan forward for his turn. I shifted from paw to paw impatiently.

‘You’ll get used to it,’ John said to Sarah, suddenly. ‘Life here, I mean.’

‘Or I’ll leave,’ she said. ‘I’ve heard it already.’

The man shrugged. ‘It’s not like any other job, working in the Palace. Some people are born to it. Others … aren’t.’ He gave her a sideways look. ‘Of course, you had the family connections, didn’t you?’

‘You mean my godfather,’ Sarah said, and sighed.

‘Butler at Windsor Castle, I heard.’ John raised an eyebrow. ‘Must make it easier, when you’ve got an in like that.’

‘I applied for the position the same as everyone else.’ Sarah sounded offended. ‘And I worked hard to get it, thank you very much.’

John threw up his hands in mock surrender. ‘Okay, okay. Sorry, then.’

Sarah sighed again. ‘No, I’m sorry. It’s just … some of the other girls, they’ve been saying the same thing. Like I can’t ever be one of them, because of who my godfather is.’

‘I wouldn’t worry about them,’ John said, dismissively. ‘They’ll get over it.’

‘Maybe,’ Sarah said, but she didn’t sound very certain.

Finally, after Vulcan and Candy, it was my turn to eat. I waited, panting, for John to give me the signal, then dove onto my bowl. I didn’t care about dinner manners, or protocol. I was starving!

The food was worth waiting for, though. Succulent, tasty – and all coated in a gravy that was like nothing I’d ever tasted before. As I savoured my last mouthful, I remembered that Willow had said that the Queen held the secret recipe for it herself.

No wonder everyone was so in awe of Her. It all made sense now.

I stepped back from my empty bowl, already knowing there wouldn’t be any more. John might think we were spoilt, but I’d give a lot for a doggy chocolate drop right then.

As John and Sarah packed up the plastic sheet, and took the bowls to be washed, the other dogs headed back to our room to sleep off the meal. I trotted along behind, uncertain of what else to do.

‘See you all tomorrow,’ Sarah called to us. I looked back to see John rolling his eyes at her, but Sarah didn’t seem to notice.

That night, as I curled up in my comfortable, draught-free basket, listening to the other dogs snoring and snuffling, I had a thought.

Willow might have spent some time explaining to me how things at the Palace worked, but I was under no illusion that she actually wanted me there. And Candy and Vulcan were even worse. But they weren’t my only options.

If the Palace dogs didn’t want to be my friends just yet, I’d just have to make friends with the humans, instead. Starting with Sarah.

Maybe she could help me get home to my family.