by Holly Webb
For Laura
HW
~
For NGHS Junior School
JB
Contents
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
About Holly Webb
Copyright
The leaves started rustling and Daisy felt the little dachshund beside her give a grateful sigh. A breeze, at last! It was so hot, even in the shade under the trees. Betsy had been slumped on the cool tiles of the kitchen floor, panting, when Daisy and the others got in from school. Daisy had thought it might be too hot for the tiny dog to want a walk in the woods. But when Daisy had picked up her lead, she had wriggled to her feet, tail wagging.
“You knew it would be cooler out here, didn’t you?” Daisy murmured, stroking Betsy’s hot little head. “You’re a clever girl. Want some water?” She’d put a bottle of water and a plastic bowl in her backpack – her phone was in there too. Mum and Dad didn’t mind her taking Betsy for walks on her own, as long as she always took her phone and stuck to the part of the forest she knew. They were lucky to live somewhere so wild and Daisy loved it. She had moved to the New Forest with her parents and her little sister and brother a year before, from a big town.
Dad had been offered a new job and her parents had wanted them to have a chance to grow up somewhere greener. It still felt so special, being surrounded by trees and shy deer and the wild ponies. And now they had Betsy too – she was one of the best things about their move. Although she only ever took Betsy through the woods and out on to the heath as far as a tiny stream, about half a mile from her house, it was far enough to feel like a proper walk.
“It’s still too hot, even out here,” Daisy muttered. She and Betsy were sitting on the brownish grass, leaning against a fallen tree. Daisy had changed into shorts after school – her summer dress felt too sticky to wear a minute longer. Now she could feel dust and bits of bark clinging to her legs. Usually it was nicely damp under the trees, but today the thick cushions of velvet-green moss on the dead wood felt dry and bristly.
She poured some water from the bottle into Betsy’s bowl and the dachshund lapped at it lazily. Daisy drank some too, and then sighed and poured a bit of it over her head. It dribbled down between her dark curls and she shivered deliciously.
“It should be the holidays,” she said to Betsy. “How can they make us go to school when it’s this hot? There’s a whole week left of term. It’s torture.”
No one had been running around at break or lunch today. Instead everyone had flopped in the shade, moaning about how hot they were. Luckily it was Friday. No more sitting in the classroom, trying not to fall asleep in the heat, at least not for a couple of days. Daisy leaned back against the tree trunk again and yawned. “We should head back soon,” she said. “Otherwise I might go to sleep right here.”
Betsy yawned too and snuggled her chin in to Daisy’s leg. Her fur was silken, but so hot that Daisy wriggled. “Oof, do you have to, Bets?” But the little dog stayed squidged up against her. “I love you, but you’re roasting… Oh well, go on then. I’ll see if Mum will let me get the paddling pool out later on,” Daisy suggested. “I bet you’d like that. You’ll have to share it with Oscar and Chloe, though. They’ll splash. Actually that sounds pretty good right now.”
Oscar was seven and Chloe was three – she was at nursery. She loved her little sister but Chloe always wanted her to play and it could be a bit much. Going for walks with Betsy was a good way to escape from endlessly being made to draw mermaids or mix what Chloe called ‘science experiments’, which basically meant stirring everything her sister could find in the garden up in a bucket.
“I wish Mara would come back,” Daisy muttered to Betsy. “It’s not the same at school without her.” Mara was Daisy’s best friend, but she’d gone into hospital during the Easter holidays and Daisy didn’t know when she’d be back at school again.
The little dog gave a small half-snore and Daisy sighed. “Yeah, I know. It’s boring when I moan. Let’s head back. Sorry, Bets. I know it’s mean now you’re falling asleep. But this was supposed to be a quick walk before dinner. I promised Mum. I hope she’s making something cold. Come on…” She tickled Betsy under her chin, and the dachshund opened one eye and glared at her reproachfully.
“Time to go. I know, it’s not fair.” Daisy jiggled her leg to make Betsy move. “Aw, Bets… I can’t carry you home. It would be like carrying a hot-water bottle.” But Betsy stayed glued to her leg. “Oh, all right! I’ll do it. Just for you. Little monster. Come on then.” She scooped Betsy up in her arms and started to trudge back through the trees.
Betsy wriggled and scrambled until she had her front paws resting on Daisy’s shoulder and her nose tucked up under Daisy’s hair. “Even your nose is hot,” Daisy complained, squinting down at her. Then she frowned. She’d thought Betsy was being lazy but maybe she really was suffering. “And it’s so dry. Dogs’ noses are supposed to be damp, aren’t they? Maybe I shouldn’t have brought you out.”
She started to walk a little faster, wanting to get Betsy home and show her to Mum. When she and Betsy had set off earlier, it hadn’t felt like they’d gone far – just down the path that ran into the woods a couple of houses up from theirs. But now, hurrying back, it seemed so much further. Although Betsy was tiny, she seemed to be getting heavier with every step.
At last Daisy came out on to the pavement and she darted up the path at the side of the house to the back door. Betsy was still slumped against her shoulder but her tail thudded gently against Daisy’s arm as they burst into the kitchen.
“Daisy! Are you OK?” Mum said in surprise.
“I’m fine but I think I let Betsy get too hot. Her nose is dry and she wouldn’t walk back. I had to carry her.” Daisy picked Betsy up off her shoulder and held her out. The little dog sagged, like she was a limp old beanie toy. “Oh, Betsy!” Daisy gulped. “I’m sorry, Mum. I took water with me and she wanted to go out, honestly she did.”
Mum cuddled Betsy close, eyeing the tiny dog worriedly. “It’s OK, sweetheart, it’s not your fault. I should have thought about it and said no. But I didn’t think it would be too hot for her in the woods. Here, run a dishcloth under the cold tap for me.”
Daisy soaked the cloth and then laid it across Betsy’s glossy black fur. The dachshund peered curiously over Mum’s shoulder to see what was happening.
“Is that nice?” Daisy asked.
“What are you doing?” Oscar demanded, coming into the kitchen to throw his lolly stick in the bin.
“Oh! Do you think Betsy would like a lolly?” Daisy asked, glancing at the freezer.
“You can’t give our lollies to the dog!” Oscar sounded horrified. “We need those!”
“So does Betsy. She’s really hot!”
“I’m not sure the sugar would be good for her,” Daisy’s mum murmured. “She’s perking up a bit though, Daisy, look. Wet the cloth again for her. Oscar, if you don’t want me to feed Betsy a lolly, you can run upstairs and get an old towel out of the cupboard on the landing for her instead.”
“Why?”
“So we can wet it for her to lie on,” Mum said patiently. “We need to cool her down.”
Oscar finally looked at Betsy properly. She was still lying limply in Mum’s arms and her eyes were sunken. “I’ll get it,” he said, racing out of the kitchen. He came back a minute later with a soaking-wet towel – which had obviously just dripped all the way down the stairs. “I wetted it for you in the b
ath,” he explained helpfully.
“Oh… Good.” Mum sighed. “Wring it out in the sink a bit. Then we’ll put it down under the table where no one’s going to trip over her.”
Oscar squeezed some water out of the towel and then laid it on the floor under the kitchen table. Betsy peered curiously at it as Mum knelt down. When she was placed on the towel, her eyes widened for a moment and then she stretched out, wriggling a little, as if to let the cool water soak into her fur.
“She can have a lolly if she wants one,” Oscar said, watching her. “She looks so hot.”
“I really don’t think it would be good for her. It might make her sick. Remember when she stole that slice of Daisy’s birthday cake a couple of weeks ago? She was sick everywhere.”
“Ice cubes! We could give her an ice cube!” Daisy suggested. “Please, Mum? I bet she’d love it.”
“OK. Let’s see what she thinks.” Mum pulled open the freezer door and got out the ice-cube tray.
“While you’re there, can I have another lolly?” Oscar asked hopefully.
“No. Here – shall we put them in her water bowl?” Mum squished the tray to get out the ice cubes and stood there with them in her palm. “Ooh, that feels so nice!”
“Let’s put one by her nose and one in her bowl.” Daisy picked up Betsy’s bowl and went to put fresh water in. “Look, she’s rolled over again. I think she’s feeling a bit better. Here, Betsy, it’s lovely and cold now.” She put down the bowl next to the little dog, who peered at the ice cube bobbing around. “And here’s another one.” Daisy laid it between Betsy’s paws and she twitched in surprise. “It’s nice – try it!”
Betsy sniffed at it suspiciously. Then she scrabbled the ice cube closer with her little ginger paws and tucked it under her chin. Daisy could see the fur slowly darkening as the ice cube melted.
“She’ll be OK,” Mum said. “You were right to dash home with her, though. Poor Betsy. We’d better watch her carefully over the weekend and not let her stay out in the garden too long.”
“I thought we could put her in the paddling pool,” Daisy suggested. “It’s in the shed. I don’t mind pumping it up.” She looked out into the garden. “I could even get it out now.”
Mum laughed. “Betsy could probably swim in it. Let’s see what she thinks tomorrow. Right. Dinner. Your dad’ll be home in a minute.” She turned to get the plates out of the cupboard and Daisy started to find the cutlery. “It’s pasta salad and cold sausages. I couldn’t face eating anything hot. Can you get the ketchup out for me?”
Daisy grabbed the ketchup – enjoying the gust of cold air from the fridge – and then laughed as a small paw patted her foot insistently. Betsy was sitting at her feet, looking hard done by, and Chloe was curled up in Betsy’s wet towel, her face pink and her hair in sweaty little ringlets. She seemed to be fast asleep.
“She must have sneaked in here when we weren’t looking,” Daisy said, rolling her eyes.
“Chloe, love, that was for the dog.” Mum sighed. “Oh well. Sorry, Bets. We’ll get you another towel…”
After dinner, Daisy wandered upstairs. She felt restless – at a loose end somehow. It was because it was still so hot, she decided. She glanced around the room she shared with Chloe, at her books and her colouring, the friendship bracelet she’d started knotting to send to Mara, but none of it called to her. She slumped down on her bed and heaved a sigh. Chloe was downstairs arguing with Mum about not wanting a bath but Daisy knew she wouldn’t have long on her own. She ought to make the most of the peace.
Daisy blinked at a thumping sound on the stairs – was that Chloe stomping up already? Then she smiled. Betsy! The little dachshund was too short for the tall steps so she had to scramble and heave herself over them one by one. She appeared in the doorway, panting, and Daisy went to scoop her up.
“You shouldn’t have,” she murmured affectionately. “You’re supposed to be taking it easy.” She ran Betsy’s silky ears through her fingers. “Did you know I was feeling lonely?”
Betsy reached up, put her paws on Daisy’s shoulder and licked her chin. Then she bounced on to the duvet, stamping round and round until she had it arranged just the way she liked it. She curled up into a determined little ball with her nose pressed against Daisy’s leg and seemed to go straight to sleep. Daisy sighed again and leaned back against the wall. Betsy couldn’t have said it any more clearly.
I don’t know what’s the matter with you but here I am. And now could you shh?
“I don’t really know what the matter is either…” Daisy whispered. She twisted her fingers together in her lap and blinked hard. “OK. Maybe I do. School was horrible – again.”
Betsy snuffled and grunted in her sleep but it almost sounded like she was answering.
“Jack Wilson was picking on me again. I nearly cried,” Daisy admitted. “He said my furry pencil case was babyish and everyone at my old school must have been stupid if they thought it was cool. He was grinning at me – he thought he was so clever. The girls in my class – you know, Kacie and Skye and the others, they were nice and they told him to get lost. But I just feel so lonely. Everyone else has been at school since Reception and they know each other so well. Sometimes I still don’t feel like I belong. I miss Mara all the time. Even when we weren’t sitting together, we always did things at break. And we sat next to each other at lunch. Now I haven’t got anyone special to sit with.”
She ran her hand down Betsy’s curled back, feeling the tiny bumps of her spine. “I bet you miss her too,” she went on. “Your walk this afternoon would’ve been more fun if Mara was with us, wouldn’t it? You loved Mara. I mean, you love her,” Daisy added quickly, with a gulp. “It’s not fair that we can’t visit her. I can understand dogs not being allowed in a hospital, I suppose. Even though I’m sure you’re very clean.” Betsy snuffled again and Daisy laughed. “But why not friends?”
Mum had explained that she wasn’t allowed to visit as Mara’s immune system was weakened because of her cancer treatment. If anyone gave her just the tiniest bit of a cold, her body wouldn’t be able to cope. It seemed so unfair. Mara must be so lonely, stuck in hospital. Her mum was there most of the time and she was allowed visits from her little sister, Lucy. But it was family only. No friends from school.
“It would make her feel better if she could see people, I know it would,” Daisy muttered. “Isn’t being happy supposed to help you get well faster?” She sniffed, and Betsy looked up, yawned and then wriggled round. She rested her chin on Daisy’s leg.
“Too hot,” Daisy whispered, but she didn’t want Betsy to move.
The awful thing was, even if Daisy did get to visit Mara in hospital, she wasn’t sure how much she’d be able to cheer up her best friend. She’d only ever been to a hospital once, to visit her grandma after she’d had a hip operation. That had been OK. They’d taken Gran a book and some strawberries because they were her favourite. Daisy and Oscar and Chloe had sat on her bed (very, very carefully). It hadn’t been scary, even though Gran was attached to tubes and wires and things. Gran had been just like herself and they’d known she was coming home soon.
Nobody knew when Mara was coming home. Daisy had bothered Mum about it, on and on. When will she be better? Will Mara be back at school this week? What about half-term, she has to be better by then – it’s weeks away!
In the end Mum had sat down with her – here, on Daisy’s bed – and told her that Mara might not get better. They didn’t know. They hoped. But her treatment was going to take a long time. All they could do was be there for Mara when she needed them. Mara had gone into hospital during the Easter holidays and now it was nearly the end of the summer term. It seemed long enough to Daisy already.
After that talk with Mum, things had changed. Before, Daisy had chatted to Mara on the phone every couple of days, and sent her pictures and emails – but it felt different talking to her now. Knowing how sick Mara was seemed to have made everything different. Daisy felt scared about talking
to her – what if she said the wrong thing? Or Mara said something that made them both sad? She felt like she didn’t know what to say any more. And she was sure Mara could tell.
Daisy had stopped calling so often. She still sent photos – that was easier. She sent loads of pictures of Betsy, because Mara adored her. And whenever she went out for walks she tried to take pictures of the New Forest ponies too. Mara was horse-mad. She went riding every weekend – or she used to – and she loved watching the ponies wandering wild through the forest and the villages.
Daisy liked them too – they were beautiful, but she was a bit scared of them sometimes. She supposed it was because she hadn’t grown up here, seeing them every day. They were so big and she wasn’t sure about them walking about on their own… She sometimes worried that a pony was going to get spooked by her or Betsy and maybe kick out. But Mara had promised her the ponies wouldn’t kick unless she crept up and frightened them, and Daisy certainly wasn’t going to do that.
Sending pictures wasn’t the same as a phone call, though – Daisy knew that. So as well as missing Mara and not enjoying school without her best friend, she felt guilty too. Too guilty to tell anyone about it, even Mum.
She looked down at Betsy, who’d gone back to sleep again, and leaned carefully sideways so as not to disturb her. She could just about reach her desk and the friendship bracelet. Granand Grandpa had given her a kit for her birthday. It had all the threads, and some charms and beads to weave into the bracelets too.
She had seen the tiny silver pony charm and thought of Mara at once. It would be a perfect present to send to her in hospital. Making something nice for Mara might help her feel less guilty about not calling too.
She laid the instructions on her lap and frowned, trying to remember which colour she was supposed to use next. She was making it purple and silver – Mara’s favourite colours. That was the problem with starting and stopping – she kept forgetting where she’d got to. She knotted a few more strands and then looked round, hearing Mum and Chloe coming up the stairs.
