by Jill Harris
“Don’t go down there!” shouted the boy. “It’s slippery!”
But Harriet kept going. She held on to overhanging branches until she was near enough to see that it was the brooch, caught in some twigs. She reached to pluck it off. At that moment, Gus and Max ran out of the trees on the opposite bank, barking excitedly. Harriet looked up – and lost her footing. She fell towards the stream.
She woke with a thumping heart – but the barking kept on. She recognised Gus and Max immediately, but not the other dog. She climbed out of bed and went to the window. On the lawn below, in the light from the street lamp, stood Gus and Max – and Honey! They’d found her! She leant out of the window. “I’m coming down,” she called softly. She pulled her clothes on over her pyjamas and picked up her shoes. Creeping out on to the landing, she listened. The light was off in her parents’ room and she could hear them breathing. Better take my torch, she thought.
She went downstairs, hardly breathing for fear of making them creak. She let herself out the back door and put on her shoes. The dogs trotted round the corner to find her. Harriet’s heart filled with happiness.
“Honey, Honey,” she murmured as she stroked her. “How’s your paw?” She turned to Gus and Max. “You are so clever,” she said, “where did you find her?” Her mind was racing. Where could she put Honey for the rest of the night? How could she convince her to stay there? Would her parents still be willing for Honey to be her dog?
Then she became aware that something was wrong. The dogs were whining and nudging her with their noses. They walked around her restlessly, not wanting to be patted any more. Gus gave several short barks and moved towards the gateway.
“What is it?” asked Harriet. “Do you want me to follow you?”
Honey bumped the back of her legs and Harriet moved towards Gus. She felt worried about going anywhere without telling her parents, specially so late at night. Should she wake them? But she didn’t think they’d understand that the dogs wanted Harriet to follow them. But where to? It was dark and damp. She didn’t want any more adventures. She hesitated at the gate. Gus barked again – urgently. There was an answering bark from Brutus, and Honey yelped and moved closer to Max. Why’s she scared? wondered Harriet.
The three dogs trotted on to the road and set off at a brisk pace. I have to trust them, Harriet thought. There’s something they want me to see. I’m safe with them. She ran to catch up.
They kept to the side of the road, finding places to duck into when cars passed them. Harriet could see that Gus and Max had done this often. As they trotted along the main road and turned the corner into Ngaiwi Street, Gus barked from time to time and was answered by other dogs.
At the far end of the street he stopped by a large bush, panting heavily. Please turn left, Harriet thought. I don’t want to go up Bell Road again.
“I hope we’re not too late,” Gus said to Girl. “It’s a long time since we left the Old House.”
“Harriet woke up pretty quickly,” said Girl. “She was out in no time.”
“She’s brave,” said Max. “Humans, specially young ones, don’t roam round at night like we do. From now on it gets spooky – and we don’t know what we’ll find.”
“What are you three talking about?” said Harriet. The dogs wagged their tails and licked her.
“OK, let’s go,” said Gus and they turned up the road towards the Old House.
Harriet was filled with dread. The last time she’d walked up this road it had led to trouble. She didn’t know whether it was safer in the light from the street lamps, or in the shadows. Something rustled in the undergrowth. She shone her torch and two eyes gleamed. She squeaked and stopped. Gus stood beside her. She held on hard to his collar with a trembling hand.
“Don’t give up now, Harriet,” said Gus softly, “we’re in this together. It’ll be all right.”
Girl licked her knees. “You’re fantastic, Harriet,” she said. “I’ll be proud to be your dog.”
Max thought of his warm kennel and tried to look intrepid.
Still holding on to Gus, Harriet found the courage to start off again. She almost knew what the dogs were saying to her – she could feel it. It must be important for them to have brought her here at night. Even when they turned off into the muddy drive, she kept going. And when they turned the bend, and there was the house lit up in the front, she tightened her grip on Gus’s collar – but she didn’t stop.
The worst part for Harriet that night was what came next. With Gus, Max and Honey beside her, she walked up the front steps of the house, pushed the front door open and stepped inside.
She gripped her torch. “Is anyone there?” she called in a wobbly voice.
There was a groan, and a faint voice: “In here.”
Honey trotted towards it. She turned into a room and yapped. The others followed. On the floor lay an old woman. She fixed her eyes on Harriet.
“Help,” she whispered, and closed her eyes.
Harriet didn’t feel frightened any more. It was up to her to get help. Although the old lady seemed to be breathing without any trouble, Harriet tilted her head further back in case her throat was blocked. She thought the old lady must be cold and thirsty and had probably broken something – one of her feet seemed to be pointing in the wrong direction. She looked around for a blanket and pillow, which she found in a bedroom, noticing, also, a phone on a table next to the bed. Water first, she thought, and found a bathroom with a glass in it. She filled it up, and returned to the old woman. She placed the blanket over her and the pillow under her head.
“Would you like to rinse out your mouth?” she asked. “I don’t think you should swallow anything, though.”
The old woman raised her head and Harriet helped her to take a sip. She spat the water back into the glass before resting her head again. That would be enough, thought Harriet. People who have had an accident aren’t supposed to eat or drink, she remembered from the first aid course at school.
Then Harriet picked up the phone and rang 111. She asked for an ambulance and explained the situation. “I can’t give you an exact address,” she said, “but it’s a very old house at the end of an overgrown drive on the left off Bell Road, at the end of Ngaiwi Street.” She gave them her name and the number on the telephone.
Next she rang her parents. Her father answered. When he had got over the surprise of hearing Harriet on the phone in the middle of the night, he listened carefully. They’d be there in no time at all, he said.
Harriet found a kitchen. She filled a bowl with water for Honey, Max and Gus. After that, there was nothing to do except sit beside the old lady, with the dogs lying next to her. The old woman lay with her eyes closed, moaning from time to time. Harriet held her hand and explained the ambulance was on its way.
First to arrive were her parents. Her mother gave her a big hug and said, “Well done, Harry.” Her father looked as though he was getting rather tired of Harriet having adventures. Harriet told them what she’d done so far. They bent over the old woman and explained who they were, but she lay still with her eyes closed.
“We’ll have to save the whole story till later,” Harriet’s father said, as the sound of a vehicle and a flashing red light filled the room.
They went out on the verandah and watched the ambulance manoeuvre as close to the steps as possible. A man and woman got out. They were wearing green and yellow parkas with reflecting stripes which shone in the semi-darkness. The woman came over to them and smiled:
“I’m Diana Anderson, and this is Rick Brown,” she said. “Can you show us where the patient is, please?”
Harriet led the way into the house.
The ambulance officers crouched down by the old woman. They introduced themselves as they set about measuring her blood pressure and taking her pulse. They were quiet and kind as they asked her name and other questions and continued with their examination.
“Who found Mrs Bell?” asked the man.
“I did,” said Harriet, a
nd she told him what had happened.
“You did all the right things,” said the man when Harriet finished. “Mrs Bell is lucky to have been found by such clever dogs and such a sensible girl. It must have been scary coming here in the middle of the night.”
The woman was holding a blue canister attached to a mask.
“We’re going to be putting you on a stretcher in a minute, Mrs Bell, and we think you should have some pain relief first. She placed the mask in the old lady’s hand. “You can breathe in as much gas as you need. When you’re ready, we’ll lift you on to the stretcher.”
The man went back to the ambulance and opened the rear doors to get a stretcher. Harriet watched, wide-eyed, as he pulled the yellow stretcher towards him along its silver track. As it slid out on to the drive, its legs unfolded automatically, turning it into a narrow bed on wheels. Harriet’s father helped to carry it up the steps and the man wheeled it inside. He placed it beside the old woman and lowered it.
“We’re going to stabilise you first by holding your legs firm with bandages,” explained the woman, and she bound the old lady’s legs together.
“Now, if you’re ready, we’ll lift you on to the stretcher,” said the man.
Mrs Bell nodded her head.
Harriet held her breath. How much would it hurt? But the two officers lifted her quickly and deftly and the old woman only grunted. They covered her with a blanket, strapped her on, raised the stretcher and wheeled it out to the verandah. Lifting it down the steps, they slid it smoothly back inside the ambulance and closed the doors.
Harriet was fascinated with the way they did their job.
“Well, Harriet,” said the woman. “You’ve done a good night’s work here.”
The officers said goodbye and drove away. By then, Harriet had begun to feel shivery.
“We need to get you home, young lady,” said her father.
Harriet looked at her parents. “I can’t leave Honey behind,” she said.
“Ah,” said her mother, “so this is Honey.”
Harriet picked Honey up. “I think Mrs Bell has been feeding her.”
“OK,” said her father, “everyone into the car.”
He shooed them out, turned off the lights and closed the front door. They stopped to let Gus and Max off on their way. Harriet held tightly to Honey because she felt very cold. Occasionally Honey wriggled free and licked Harriet’s face.
Harriet felt terribly pleased to be home. They all went into the kitchen where her mother made hot drinks and even found some leftover fried rice for Honey, which Honey loved, spices and all. Harriet told them more about what had happened, but her eyes got heavier and heavier. 2.45, said the clock.
“I’m not sure who should be tied up,” said Harriet’s father, “you or Honey. You’re both escape artists.”
But by the time Harriet’s mother had put a hot-water bottle in her bed and tucked her in, Harriet, with Honey next to her, was sound asleep. Neither of them had the slightest intention of escaping.
Farewell
Harriet, Gus, Max and Honey were heroes. At playtime everyone gathered round Harriet and asked her to tell the story. The principal congratulated her at assembly.
“Gosh, you were brave,” said Amanda.
“Were you scared?” asked Tim.
“What a sensible girl you are,” said her teacher.
Even the local newspaper ran the story with photographs of her, Gus, Max and Honey. After that, people recognised Harriet wherever she went. “Aren’t you the girl who found the old woman?” they all wanted to know. The only cloud on the horizon was when the Howards asked Harriet if she knew how Max had got loose that night, but was back in his kennel, tied up, the next morning.
To tell the truth, Harriet got rather tired of it, and she thought Honey was getting sick of being patted by strangers whenever they went out. After a couple of days, she and Honey stayed home and played in the garden. Except that Honey wouldn’t go round the side of the house next to the Martins. When Harriet went there, Honey stopped by the corner with her tail right down between her legs, and whined.
“What’s wrong, Honey?” Harriet asked. Later that afternoon, when Brutus sent out his deep, loud bark, Honey ran to Harriet and cringed beside her. “You’re scared of Brutus – just like me!”
Honey was still sleeping in Harriet’s room on that side of the house, but being upstairs was different from just over the fence. Her mother had found an old blanket and put it in a carton.
“Honey’s not to sleep on your bed,” she said, and Honey always started off in the carton. It was funny, though, that when Harriet woke up in the morning, Honey was on the bed looking at her with soft eyes.
“But I don’t put her there,” protested Harriet, “she jumps up when I’m asleep.”
“We’ll go shopping for doggy supplies this weekend,” said her father. “We’ll get her a proper basket, a collar and lead, and all the things Mr Jacobs said we’d need. Then Honey can sleep in the laundry. And we need to make a start on obedience training.”
Harriet sighed. She wondered if Gus and Max had had obedience training. Still, her father had absolutely changed his mind about dogs and maybe it was the price to be paid. And she had liked it when Max walked calmly beside her instead of straining ahead – almost pulling her arm out of its socket – which is what happened when she took Honey for a walk.
Come Saturday, they sat at the kitchen table making a list when Honey gave an excited yip. A moment later there was a knock on the door.
Harriet ran to open it. On the doorstep stood Mr Jacobs and Mr and Mrs Howard. Max and Gus stood beside them, their tails wagging. There were several boxes wrapped up in brown paper.
“Oh!” said Harriet, “all my favourite people!” She knelt down next to Gus and Max and hugged them. Honey just about wagged her hindquarters off.
“Do come in,” said Harriet’s mother. “I’ll make coffee.”
“I’ll get more chairs,” said Harriet’s father.
Soon everyone was sitting round the table drinking coffee and eating peanut brownies. The dogs had been sent outside to get on with their sniffing greetings. Brutus was out on a walk, so Honey went with them quite happily.
“We’re just the chauffeurs,” explained Mr Jacobs. “Gus and Max wanted to see Harriet and Honey, and they’ve got house-warming presents for Honey.”
Mr Howard lifted the biggest box on to the table. “Harriet, you’ll have to do the honours for Honey.”
Harriet pulled off the paper. It was a dog basket with a green, polar fleece blanket.
“Green’s the only colour dogs recognise,” explained Mr Jacobs.
“It’s perfect,” said Harriet, “thank you so much.”
The smaller parcels were a yellow, leather collar and nylon lead (“honey-coloured!” exclaimed Harriet), a food bowl with bones painted on it, a brush and comb set, and a packet of freeze-dried liver treats.
“Oh!” Harriet kept saying as she unwrapped each parcel. “Honey will love this.”
Mrs Howard raised her coffee mug: “I think this calls for a toast,” she said. “Let’s drink to Harriet and Honey!” Everyone clinked their mugs together.
“And another toast to Gus and Max: enterprising dogs who do amazing things even though they sometimes break the rules!” said Mr Jacobs.
Everyone laughed.
“There’s one more thing,” said Mr Jacobs. He looked at Harriet seriously. “Harriet, you probably saved an old woman’s life the other night. You understood what the dogs wanted you to do, and you were extremely brave and sensible.”
He paused. “What you don’t know is that the old woman is my sister, Mrs Madeleine Bell.”
Harriet stared at him. That old lady was Mr Jacobs’ sister!
“Yes,” he continued, “she’s lived in the Old House for many years and seldom comes out during the day. I suppose you’d call her a recluse. Of course, to me, she’s my brilliant, beautiful, older sister – a wonderful pianist and si
nger, splendid hostess, loving wife and mother – until it all came crashing down.”
Harriet could hardly breathe.
“When her son was twelve years old, he caught a terrible sickness – poliomyelitis – and died. A few weeks later her husband was drowned.”
Harriet’s mother closed her eyes. Her father took her hand. Another Toby, thought Harriet.
Mr Jacobs sighed. “She never got over it. She retreated into that house and has lived in isolation for years, the house gradually falling down around her. I came back from Canada to be close to her, and sometimes she lets me look after her. But she often doesn’t answer the phone when I ring. I might not have found her for several days – that would probably have been too late.”
He passed another parcel over to Harriet. “This is for you, Harriet, from me. I want to thank you very much for what you did for Maddy.”
Harriet was feeling overwhelmed and her mouth was dry. “Thank you, Mr Jacobs,” she said. “I have to check on the dogs.” She scraped her chair back and went outside. Her mind was churning. She could see the page of the book: ‘To Maddy, with much love from Teddy’ – the old lady and Mr Jacobs.
She stood on the front lawn and gathered her thoughts. The gate had been left open, so she went to close it. The three dogs came rushing towards her, snapping at one another and yelping with the fun of it. My very, very best friends, thought Harriet. They all reached the gate together. At the same moment Mrs Martin arrived back next door with Brutus.
“Hello Harriet,” she smiled.
Brutus snarled and showed all his teeth. Harriet felt a stab of fear. He leapt forward, jerking the leash from Mrs Martin’s hand. Honey gave one high, terrified yelp and ran towards the road.
“NO!” screamed Harriet and ran after her.
In a flash, Gus took it all in – the stream of traffic, the headlong rush of the dogs, and Harriet’s legs carrying her towards disaster. He bounded after her. Horns blared and tyres screeched as cars tried to stop. He reached her and flung himself in front of her, knocking her back towards the pavement. There was a sickening thud and the deafening bang of a car crashing into another.
