One Dog and His Boy

by Iva Ibbotson

  The two hellhounds ran straight as arrows towards him, ignoring gorse, cowpats, a clump of barbed wire. The muscles in their chests and forelegs were bunched, their upper lips curled back, showing even more of their fearsome teeth. Their eyes were red, saliva streaked down their necks and they had stopped barking. The shouting was over; the tearing and rending was about to begin.

  Otto waited, perfectly still.

  The pursuing beasts were only a few feet away from him now. With an immense effort they managed to stop themselves and adjusted their legs for the leap which would finish Otto and allow them to continue their headlong race for the boy. But for a moment they hesitated. The pit bull in them was ready for murder, but the bloodhound part wanted to get on with the chase.

  And in this moment of indecision, Otto spoke. The growl started from somewhere in the lower abdomen and when it finally reached his voice box and emerged into the outside world it was like the sound of a mighty river swollen by rain as it thunders over great falls to the plain below.

  At first nothing happened. The furious attacking dogs slavered and rumbled and grimaced. Then as Otto’s endless growls rolled out over the grass, their attitude slowly changed. Their upper lips covered the ghastly fangs, their breathing quietened, their brows wrinkled in puzzlement. A small nervous yawn escaped them and slowly their gaze dropped to Otto’s feet.

  And then the two satanic beasts sank first their buttocks, and then – with their forepaws pushing gingerly forward – their bellies to the ground. They tried a last tremulous growl but it had more than a touch of squeak in it.

  As if to say, “No. Not a single word more,” Otto finally lowered his head, took a step forward and opened his mouth. And at the other end of these two terrors of the night, something odd occurred. A small tremor seemed to affect their stumpy tails. Could it be a nervous twitch? But no. It came again, and it was getting stronger … and stronger still.

  For the first time since they were puppies playing happily at their mother’s side, Darth and Terminator were wagging their tails.

  Down on the beach, Hal and Pippa and the other dogs raced along the sands, burst through the doors of the cottage and tumbled in a heap into the hall.

  22

  The Sea, the Sea!

  Hal’s grandmother was crying. She wasn’t pretending not to as she bustled round making tea, buttering bread and opening biscuit tins. Throughout the ghastly week in which they had waited for news of Hal, Marnie had been brave and hopeful for her husband’s sake, but now she let go.

  The kitchen of the cottage seethed with dogs and children. Otto had padded in quietly when his job was done, and Meg the old Labrador had come out from under the sofa and was doing her best to be polite to the newcomers.

  In the middle of the throng sat Fleck, looking very pleased with himself. Hal’s grandfather had greeted him by name as soon as he had stopped hugging Hal.

  “Hello, Fleck,” he had said, picking him out as the dog who mattered, whose place this was. “Welcome to our home.” Already Fleck had taken charge of one of Marnie’s slippers and was keeping it safe.

  Hal, perched on a stool by the kitchen table, was completely happy. It was all as he had hoped. His grandparents, so warm and understanding, the crackling fire, the view outside the window of the sea and the islands and the scudding clouds… Only it was even better than he had imagined because he had saved not only Fleck but the other dogs, and he had found Pippa!

  But when the children began to speak of their adventures, the horror of the last hour came back in full force.

  “We were chased by tracker dogs,” said Pippa. “Honestly. We couldn’t believe at first that it was us they were after.”

  “It was as though we were criminals,” said Hal. “You never saw such animals. If it hadn’t been for Otto—”

  He broke off, because the back door of the cottage had opened and in the threshold stood a large, uniformed policeman, looking very much at home.

  “Afternoon,” he said, removing his cap.

  The children froze. Had they been betrayed? Were they going to be packed off to London and the dogs imprisoned again? Was it possible that Hal’s grandparents were going to turn them in? For a moment, Hal’s whole world seemed to topple.

  But the policeman had begun to speak.

  “I just called in to see if you’d had any news of the boy,” he said, “but I see that all’s well.”

  “Yes, thanks, Arthur. Hal’s safe and sound and so is his friend Pippa. It was what we thought. He came with Fleck here. But the children have just told us they were chased by tracker dogs. Can you believe it?”

  The policeman nodded. “We’ve had a message from one of the farmers out on the moor. I’ve sent a couple of men up there now. We reckon we know who they are. Chap called Kevin Dawks and his friend. Kevin’s a dumper and they’re nasty pieces of work, both of them. They’re breaking the law, of course, tracking without a licence.”

  He put his cap on again, shook hands with the children, and left.

  “He’s been such a comfort,” said Marnie. “Came in every day to see if you’d turned up. The police never thought you’d been kidnapped. They always thought you were on the way to us.”

  But now it was time for the telephone. The call to the abbot didn’t take long, but Pippa’s call home was not quite so simple. It was Kayley who answered the phone.

  “We’ve been expecting you back from camp for an hour. Is the bus late?”

  “Actually, I’m not at camp,” said Pippa. “I’m in Northumberland.”

  “You are what?”

  “I’ll explain. Only it’s a long story.”

  There was a pause. Then, “Is it a story about dogs?” asked Kayley.

  “Yes, it is.” Pippa took a deep breath. “That’s exactly what it is. I’ve got them here with me and …” She launched into an explanation.

  When she hung up, she looked distinctly shaken.

  “My sister’s coming to fetch me,” she said. “I hope that’s all right. She’s a bit cross.”

  Actually, considering how good-tempered Kayley usually was, she had not been a bit cross. She had been very cross indeed.

  “Now you, Hal,” said his grandfather.

  In London, Albina picked up the phone and shrieked.

  “Oh, thank goodness! Thank the Lord! Oh, Hal, we’ve been so worried, I thought I would die! You must come back at once – at once. Is there an aeroplane you can get? Or perhaps the train’s faster. No, what am I saying? Of course we’ll come up and fetch you in the car. We’ll be with you in a few hours.”

  Hal’s voice cut in, quiet but implacable.

  “I’m not coming home,” he said.

  “What? Oh, Hal, darling, what are you saying? Hal…” She began to sob down the telephone but her son did not relent. He was reliving the moment when he had come back from the dentist and found Fleck gone.

  “I’m here with Fleck and I’m not going to give him up. Not ever.”

  “No, no … of course not. I’m sorry. It’ll be all right, we understand.”

  “You tricked me,” said Hal. “I don’t trust you any more.” Albina was still crying but Hal was seeing Fleck, lying unconscious on the floor of his cage. “I’ll never trust you again.”

  He was about to put down the receiver when his grandfather came and took it out of his hand.

  “Albina, I’d like to speak to my son, please,” he said. “Is he there?”

  “Yes, he’s here. Oh, what shall I do?” Albina was beside herself. “Donald, it’s your father.”

  Donald took the phone.

  “You’ve got the boy?”

  “Yes, he’s safe and sound and he’s got his dog. But he’s very tired and at the end of his tether. Give him a few days to rest up before you come.”

  “But that’s ridiculous. You can’t expect us not to—”

  His father’s voice was different. Not the voice of someone who had decided to stand aside and not interfere. This was his father’s
voice as he remembered it from his childhood.

  “The boy needs time. Come up at the end of the week. And remember this, Donald: if you try to take his dog away, you’ll have lost him for good.”

  Returning to the kitchen, Alec found his wife and the children with their faces pressed to the window.

  “We saw them,” said Pippa gleefully. “In a police van. The dumper was there and another man and two dogs. And there was someone else with them sort of cowering at the back. He looked terrified.”

  She spoke the truth. Milton Sprocket, arrested by the police, hemmed in by Darth and Terminator, cold and bitten and disgraced, had sunk to the very depths of his being.

  23

  Return of the Dogs

  On the following day Hal was out in the garden helping his grandfather weed the vegetable bed when he saw an enormous silver car drive up to the cottage. Immediately he was furious. His parents had promised not to come up before the end of the week. What’s more, they had bought another car they didn’t need – a Rolls-Royce gleaming with newness.

  The car stopped, and out of the driving seat came a calm-faced Indian gentleman who stood for a moment looking at the view. Then a second door opened, and out stepped Kayley.

  When she had finished talking to Pippa on the telephone, Kayley had hurried round to find her mother, who was sewing with Mrs Naryan. It was no good trying to shield Pippa now, so she explained exactly what had happened.

  “I’m going up to fetch her straightaway,” she said. “Goodness knows what else she’ll get up to. There’s an overnight bus to Berwick, I can catch that. I’ve got enough in my savings for the fare, just about.”

  But at this point Mrs Naryan put down her needle.

  “That is not a good idea, I think,” she said in her soft voice. “This bus will not be pleasant.”

  She walked out of the room and came back with her husband. Mr Naryan, like his wife, was small, soft-spoken and gentle. He was also one of the richest men in England, having built up a flourishing import-export business in the years since he had left Rajasthan.

  “I will drive you to Northumberland,” he said.

  And when both Kayley and her mother said no, no, it was out of the question, it was impossible, he only smiled. “There is a man in the north whom I would like to see,” he said. “I will come to your house at six tomorrow morning.”

  Now he shook hands with Hal’s grandparents and then took his leave. He was going to spend the night in a hotel further up the coast and come back for Kayley and Pippa on the following day.

  The dogs remembered Kayley. They remembered her so well that she was nearly knocked over, and Kayley petted them and talked to them as only she could talk to dogs.

  But her greeting to her sister was not so enthusiastic.

  “Come outside,” she said to Pippa when she had been welcomed by Hal’s grandparents and said hello to Hal.

  The first ten minutes as they walked along the beach was spent by Kayley giving Pippa a piece of her mind.

  “You must have been mad,” she said. “We’ve had the police round, and the Carkers are spitting blood. I thought you’d forgotten to set off the burglar alarm, but letting the dogs out on purpose…”

  “I know,” said Pippa. “I sort of saw red. The way they looked when Hal took Fleck away … I couldn’t bear it.”

  “That’s all very well, but what now? Hal’s grandparents can’t keep five dogs. What’s going to become of them? If we take them back to Easy Pets it’ll come out that you let them go, and—”

  “We can’t,” Pippa broke in. “We absolutely can’t take them back to sit in those awful cages again.”

  “Well, how can we find homes for them?”

  Pippa looked at the four dogs who had followed them on to the sands.

  “They’ve got homes, Kayley. All four of them. They found homes for themselves, but they came on with us to see Fleck safe. They’ve found homes and work and masters that they want to serve.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Kayley.

  So Pippa told her.

  They left early the following day. Mr Naryan was a Buddhist and didn’t seem to mind dogs piling into his beautiful car. The Buddha held all life to be sacred, and whether it was a businessman or a St Bernard lolling on his spotless cream upholstery made no difference to him.

  Fleck said goodbye again and again to Otto and Honey and Francine and Li-Chee, and they said it to him. But the little mongrel was not worried or upset. He had known at once that he and Hal belonged to the cottage in a special way, and when the others got into the car, he turned and went back into the house and flopped down contentedly beside old Meg.

  For Hal it was more difficult. He and Pippa hadn’t been together long but those days on the road had changed him. He’d be able to write to Pippa and phone her, but seeing the dogs go was hard.

  It was Kayley who comforted him.

  “You’ll see them again, Hal,” she said. “When you’ve shared so much with someone, whether it’s a dog or a person, they don’t just go out of your life.”

  They drove to the monastery first. As the car slowed down, Otto, who had been looking out of the window, began to moan and gargle deep in his throat, and to press his nose against the glass. They stopped outside the gates to let him out, and Pippa and Kayley went with him. Pippa was putting up her hand to ring the bell, but before she could do so the door opened and Brother Malcolm stood there, smiling his welcome.

  But now it all went wrong. She had expected Otto to rush inside and up the stairs, but he wouldn’t go. Instead he turned and raced away round the side of the building and out of sight.

  “He is in the garden,” said Brother Malcolm.

  “We’d better go and see,” said Kayley.

  The girls walked past the herb beds and into the orchard, where they saw an unusual sight. The abbot of St Roc lay on the grass, felled like an oak tree. And over him and beside him and round him was Otto, now licking, now barking, now simply sitting on his chest.

  “Is it all right?” shouted Pippa.

  The abbot did not reply. He merely raised one arm – perhaps in blessing, perhaps in greeting, perhaps just because it was the only one of his limbs that he could free.

  The girls did not repeat their question. If ever anything was all right, this was. They turned and walked back to the car.

  Old Selby, the shepherd, was getting ready to load his possessions on to the removal van. There weren’t many of them. His room in Rosewood was small, and everything was built in and fitted. He’d set the bonfire, ready to burn the stuff he wasn’t taking, and now he picked up his crook and laid it across the top. Billy was going to a farmer in the neighbouring valley. He padded miserably behind his master, his eyes clouded with anxiety, and from time to time he lifted his head and howled.

  All the same, it was Billy who first heard the car purring down the track. His ears went up. He yapped once as the door opened.

  “Go, Honey,” said Pippa. “It’s all right. You can go now.”

  Honey bounded out, came back once to her friends, and then was gone.

  But Pippa, following her, stopped in dismay, seeing the removal van, the bonfire.

  “Oh dear,” she said. “You’re leaving! We’d hoped you’d be able to have Honey, but if—”

  Old Selby was bending down, rubbing Honey’s head.

  Now he straightened himself. “No, I’m not,” he said. “I’m not leaving now. I’m staying right here where I belong.”

  He walked over to the bonfire and picked out his stick. Then he went over to the driver of the van.

  “I’ve changed my mind,” said Selby. “You’ll have to take the van back.”

  The driver looked at him, ready to argue. Old people had fancies, he knew. The shepherd probably didn’t know what he was doing.

  But then he looked at Selby again. When he first saw him he’d taken him for a man near the end of his life, but he seemed to have changed. He didn’t really look old at all – and t
he driver shrugged, and got back into his cab.

  “Come on, Honey,” said Selby. “We’ve got work to do.”

  They caught the circus in Todcaster on its last day. The big top had come down; lorries were being loaded. Francine was out of the car, streaking away the moment it stopped. Kayley and Pippa, following her, heard her yapping outside one of the caravans. Then a black shape bounded out and in a moment Rupert and Francine were dancing round each other in a frenzy of joy.

  Now a thin man in a beret followed Rupert out of the caravan and introduced himself as Petroc.

  “This must be the dog that George told me about. Francine, is it?” he asked in a slight foreign accent.

  “Yes, it is. We wondered if she could stay with you?”

  Petroc sighed. “It would have been good. She could have joined my act, Petroc’s Poodles. It is the best dog act in the world,” he said modestly. “But a dog like that is worth a lot of money and I am a poor man, so I’m afraid—”

  “We don’t want any money,” said Kayley quickly. “We just want her to be happy.”

  Petroc looked at Francine, rolling over and over with Rupert on the grass. His thin face creased into a smile.

  “She is happy, I think,” he said. “Yes, I know dogs and this one is happy. She is very happy indeed.”

  But Francine did not forget her manners. She gave a paw to Kayley, then to Pippa, then to Kayley once again, before she followed Rupert into the caravan and her new life.

  The car was empty now and Li-Chee was getting worried. He had whimpered pathetically when Otto left, and now he sat on Pippa’s knee, his pop eyes anxiously searching her face. Where was everybody? Had he been forgotten?

  Kayley and Pippa too were nervous. This last stop was going to be difficult. What if there was a rule against having pets in the care home? Mr Naryan, driving steadily, said little, but he was a comfort.

  “He has a big heart, that one,” he said. “It will be well with him.”

  As they turned into the drive of Greystoke House, they saw that the garden was full of children. They stopped and Li-Chee jumped out – and then from the group of children one little girl came running like the wind.