by Jenny Dale
By the end of the morning, Neil’s back was aching from shovelling snow and he was sweating inside his padded jacket. More snow was falling all the time, so he couldn’t help feeling that all his efforts would be wasted. But he and his father had cleared a path from the road to the house, and Bob had put down some of the straw that was used for the dogs’ bedding, to help wheels get a grip.
“If the snow stops,” Bob said, “we’ll clear some of the exercise runs. That way the dogs can get out for a bit.”
“Fantastic,” Neil grunted. He never wanted to see another spade for the rest of his life. “Can we go in now? I’ve still got to wrap presents.”
“Better do it later,” Bob suggested. “When Sarah’s in bed. She won’t give you a minute’s peace, otherwise.”
Neil grinned.
Neil and Bob took the spades back to the store room. On the way, they met Emily and Sarah, plodding back through the snow from the rescue centre.
“We’ve been checking up on the dogs,” Emily explained. “They’re really restless because they haven’t been out. We played with them for a bit but Sarah wanted to play with Jake.”
“Look for her Christmas presents, more like,” Neil smirked.
“We’ll try to get them out this afternoon,” Bob promised. “Otherwise there’ll be a lot of very messy pens to clean out.”
Emily made a face. “There already are!”
Carole was in the store room when Neil and Bob put away the spades.
“I’ve made a list,” she explained, waving it. “Of what we really can’t do without. If Preston’s don’t turn up, I’ll go to the Cash and Carry after lunch.”
Mention of lunch reminded Neil that he was starving. He led the way across the courtyard to the house. Halfway there, he was met by Sam, padding through the snow and waving his tail cheerfully.
“Oh, Sam!” Neil exclaimed. “Don’t say you’ve learnt how to open the back door!”
He was leading Sam back indoors when a dreadful thought struck him. Where was Jake? He hurried on ahead into the kitchen. It was empty. Though Neil looked under the table and in the spaces behind the fridge and the cooker, there was no sign of the vulnerable little puppy.
Neil dashed out into the passage.
“Jake! Jake!” he called anxiously into the emptiness.
No little puppy scurried up to answer him. Everything was quiet. Neil quickly checked the sitting room, the dining room they hardly ever used, the cloakroom and the cupboard under the stairs. Nothing. Emily tried to ask him what he was up to but he rushed past her into the kitchen without answering.
“Jake! Jake, where are you?”
Carole caught up with Neil first. She took one look at his panic-stricken face and asked, “Neil! What on earth is wrong?”
“Mum! Dad!” Neil gasped out frantically, resisting their efforts to calm him. “Jake’s missing. I can’t find him anywhere!”
6
“Steady on,” Bob said. “He must be around here somewhere.”
“I’ve looked,” Neil said. “He must have got out. I think Sam opened the back door.”
“I doubt even Sam’s clever enough for that,” said Carole. “But one of us might not have shut it properly.”
“Jake loves exploring,” Emily said worriedly.
Neil headed for the door. “He’ll freeze out there!”
“Hang on,” said Bob. “Let’s make sure he isn’t here, first.”
“I said, I’ve looked.”
“So let’s look again.”
Neil felt frustrated at the methodical way his father started checking the downstairs rooms again, and then went upstairs, even though Jake hadn’t learnt to climb stairs yet.
Neil ran outside into the courtyard with Emily. He looked at the ground to see if he could find pawprints leading away from the back door – but a busy morning of people tramping back and forth through the snow made it difficult to see anything clearly. Any marks there were which might have been tiny pawprints were rapidly filling up with snow. It was useless.
“Where do you think he’d go?” Emily asked.
“I don’t know. He’s not really been out yet. He hasn’t got any favourite places.”
Neil and Emily began to search the courtyard, calling for Jake all the time. Neil was frightened that the puppy might have got out onto the road, but he realized that was unlikely. He would have seen Jake if the pup had come out while he and his father were shovelling snow in the drive, and they had closed the side gate carefully when they had finished.
The doors of the kennel blocks and the rescue centre were all firmly closed to keep the heat in. Red’s Barn was closed as well, but Bob had been in and out fetching straw, and Jake could have slipped in then. Neil and Emily searched.
The barn was a wonderful place for a little dog to play and hide, but after a few minutes they were sure Jake was not there either.
When they left the barn they saw Bob coming out into the courtyard. “Any luck?” he called over to them.
“No,” said Neil. “Let’s try the garden.”
All the while Neil was trying to push down the sick feeling in his stomach, desperately hoping that he would see the little black and white Border collie come bounding towards him through the snow. He wondered how long Jake had been outside. He would freeze to death if they didn’t find him soon.
There was still no sign of Jake when he and Bob and Emily came to the field gate. Through the swirling snow Neil could just make out the hedge that separated their land from the Hammonds’.
“Do you think Jake tried to go home?” he asked Bob.
“To Old Mill Farm? I doubt it. Jane delivered him here by road. He wouldn’t know the way across the fields.”
“We could ring Jane, though,” Neil suggested.
“She’ll ring us if Jake turns up. I don’t want to worry her. Not yet, anyway.”
Emily pushed open the gate into the field. “He could have come through here. Sam used to get through the hedge when he went to visit Delilah. Let’s start looking.”
Neil bit back a groan. The field was huge! If Jake was wandering round, they could easily miss him in the snow. The idea crossed his mind that he might get Bernie to track Jake, but he had to face up to the fact that he hadn’t made any real progress with the dopey St Bernard. Not enough to risk Jake’s life to his tracking skills.
Neil started calling again, working his way alongside the hedge, poking into the bushes with a stick to see if Jake was hiding. Snow spattered from the branches to the ground as he disturbed them, but there was no Jake.
Eventually he reached the clump of trees and bushes at the far end of the field.
“Jake! Jake!”
For a few seconds he heard nothing except his own panting breath. Then he thought that he could make out a faint whimpering. Emily came pounding up, skidded to a halt beside him and grabbed his arm.
“Call again.”
“Jake!”
This time Neil was certain. Jake had answered him. He plunged into the undergrowth, dislodging great masses of snow that slithered wetly onto his shoulders. Neil didn’t notice. As he called Jake, the pup’s reply had become a feeble yapping.
Neil found him at last in front of a huge clump of brambles several feet from the fence. Trailing stems arched over, interlaced so they protected the ground underneath from some of the snow. He pushed back the curtain with one gloved hand. Beneath it, Jake was crouched on a carpet of snow and dead leaves. When Neil appeared he got up, staggered a couple of paces to sniff Neil’s hand, and then collapsed again, shivering. Neil gathered him up.
“Oh, Jake!” He was swallowing tears; he told himself that was stupid, now that Jake was found. “Jake, you daft dog. What have you been up to?”
Back in the kitchen, Neil wrapped Jake in a blanket and settled him in his basket in a warm spot by the cooker. He was still limp and shivering. Carole quickly heated some milk for him.
Moments later, Neil was crouching down beside Jake and o
ffering him the bowl of warm milk. The puppy lapped feebly at it and then closed his eyes.
“He’s ill,” Neil said anxiously.
“He just needs to warm up,” Carole said. “Come away. Let him rest for a bit.”
Neil tried to carry on helping his parents with the kennel work but he was finally overcome with distraction.
Looking in on him for the umpteenth time, Neil was still worried. Jake wasn’t properly asleep. He kept twitching and whimpering, and he didn’t want his milk.
Neil dragged his father back into the kitchen for a second opinion. “I think we should take him to see Mike,” Neil said.
Mike Turner took care of all the dogs in King Street Kennels. Neil knew that if there was anything seriously wrong with Jake he couldn’t be in better hands.
“Mike might not be at the surgery,” Bob said. “It’s Christmas Eve. And it’ll be difficult to get there in this.”
“It’s stopped snowing,” Carole said, overhearing their conversation as she stepped inside. “And the Preston’s van hasn’t turned up yet. If Mike is there, I could go to the Cash and Carry and take Jake on the same trip.”
Bob nodded. It was probably best to make sure the pup hadn’t caught anything serious.
Carole went out into the hall to telephone the vet.
Neil crouched anxiously over Jake, stroking his silky head. Sam came close and nosed his son, almost as if he was worrying as well.
“Mike’s at the surgery,” Carole said as she came back into the room. “He’ll see Jake if we go right away. He was just about to leave for the holidays – I only just caught him. Emily, you’d better come with me and hold Jake on your lap.”
Neil stood up. “Why can’t I go? Jake’s my dog.”
“Because you’ll be more help here,” Carole said.
“Your mother’s right,” Bob added, before Neil could protest again. “I need you here. If the Preston’s van turns up, you’ll have to help me carry boxes. There’s still paths to clear, and the runs, and—”
“But I’ve shovelled snow all morning,” Neil muttered rebelliously. “It’s not fair.”
“Neil,” Bob said, “we had enough trouble from you first thing this morning. Don’t start being difficult now. Besides, which is more important, getting Jake to the vet quickly or standing here arguing?”
“I know . . .” It was hard for Neil to admit his dad was right. “You’d better look after him,” he said to Emily, as she slipped into her winter coat.
“Of course I will,” she said sympathetically, swathing Jake in a blanket from his basket so that only his nose poked out of the folds. “I promise, Neil.”
When Carole and Emily had gone, Bob let Neil take the dogs one or two at a time into the barn for some play and exercise, while he cleaned out the pens. It was just the sort of job Neil liked, and at any other time he would have enjoyed himself. Now he was just worried about Jake, and wishing he could have gone with him instead of Emily. Sarah, however, was quite happy singing Christmas songs to the dogs.
“Time for a break,” Bob said, as he collected the last two dogs from Kennel Block One. “No sign of the Preston’s van yet.”
As Neil followed his father from the barn, the snow was falling again and refused to give up its relentless deluge of King Street Kennels and the Compton area. Huge feathery flakes were already piling up over ground they had cleared that morning. The Range Rover’s tracks from just a couple of hours before were already invisible. Sarah, clasping her dad’s hand, was having trouble tripping her way through the deep blanket of snow.
“Mum’s not back yet,” Neil said.
Bob glanced at his watch. “She’s been gone long enough.” He frowned, and added thoughtfully, “Quite long enough to see Mike and then go on to the Cash and Carry. The snow must be holding her up.”
“Or maybe there’s something really bad wrong with Jake!” Neil said, panicky all over again.
“I doubt it,” Bob said, reassuring him. He pushed open the kitchen door and Neil followed him inside, shaking snow off himself. “If you’re really worried,” his dad went on, “I’ll try giving Mike a ring.”
With Neil at his heels, he went out to the telephone in the passage and dialled the surgery number. Neil could just hear the faint ringing; it went on and on, until the answering machine cut in. Starting to feel desperate, Neil said, “Where is he?”
“The message says they’re closed now until Monday,” Bob said, starting to dial another number. “Which suggests that your mum made it to the surgery. Mike wouldn’t have left when he knew she was coming. I’ll try him on his mobile.”
He gave a nod to Neil as this time someone answered the call. “Hello . . . Mike?”
Neil could hear the speaker at the other end, but not the words he was saying. He shifted restlessly from foot to foot and tried to make sense of his dad’s end of the conversation.
“They did . . . Great. And Jake? Yes . . . yes, I see. Fine.” He stuck a thumb up and grinned at Neil. Neil felt suddenly shaky with relief. “And they left when? Oh . . . no, she was going to the Cash and Carry, for dog food. Yes, I know . . . yes. It was?” Bob listened for a long time and then said, “OK, Mike, thanks. It’s probably nothing to worry about. Cheerio . . . and Happy Christmas.”
He put the phone down, frowning again.
“How’s Jake?” Neil asked anxiously.
“Oh, Jake’s fine. Mike says he was starting to perk up already by the time he got to the surgery. He was exhausted more than anything else. He just needs rest and warmth.”
Neil felt a big grin spread over his face. “That’s great!”
“Mike closed the surgery as soon as your mum left. He went home, and he tells me the snow ploughs had been out on the main Compton to Padsham road, so he didn’t have much trouble getting there.”
“Then where’s Mum?” Neil asked. “Why hasn’t she brought Jake home?”
“That’s what I’d like to know,” said Bob. “She’s had plenty of time to get to the Cash and Carry. So where are they now?”
7
Neil and Bob stood in the passage staring at each other. Then Bob shook himself.
“I’m losing my mind,” he said, slapping his forehead. “Your mum took the mobile phone with her. I can call her on that.”
He picked up the phone again and dialled a number.
Neil bit his lip.
Bob started to shake his head. “Nope. ’Fraid I’m getting a number unobtainable message. The battery must have run out.”
“So what do we do now?”
“Listen, Neil, I’m going to get on outside. There’s nothing we can do stuck here. You stay near a phone, and give me a shout if your mum calls.”
“And what if she doesn’t?”
Bob frowned, and tugged at his beard. “We’ll worry about that later. Come on, Sarah, are you going to help me out again?”
When his father and Sarah had gone outside, Neil went back to the kitchen. After all the worry about Jake, he realized that he was starving again. He pulled off his jacket and boots, poured himself some milk, and made a jam sandwich. Then he gave Sam a couple of dog biscuits. Sitting at the table, he ruffled the Border collie’s fur.
“They’ll be back soon, Sam,” he said. “Everything’ll be fine. You’ll see.”
Sam looked up at him, his eyes bright and trusting. Neil hoped that he was telling him the truth.
He hadn’t been waiting in the kitchen long when Sarah skipped in, singing ‘Jingle Bells’. The trouble was, she only knew the first line. You could have too much of anything.
“Do you have to?” Neil said in mock exasperation.
Sarah gave him a black look. “Don’t be so rude. Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all—” She broke off as if a thought had struck her. “Neil, will Father Christmas be able to get here, through all this snow?”
Neil sighed. “He drives a sledge.”
Sarah thought about this for a moment, and a beaming smile spread over her face. “That�
��s all right, then. Cos I wrote to him and asked him to bring Denny back for Beth and Gina.”
“He might not be able—”
“Yes, he will! Father Christmas is magic. He can do anything. Jingle bells, jingle bells . . .”
To Neil’s relief, his little sister skipped off again, back outside to help Bob. Probably driving him mad with ‘Jingle Bells’, Neil thought. All the same, he wished she wasn’t so confident. Her Christmas would be spoilt if Denny still wasn’t found.
Sarah’s footsteps had hardly died away when the phone rang. Neil shot out into the passage. “
King Street Kennels.”
At first all he could hear was crackling. He raised his voice. “Hello . . . hello? I can’t hear you.”
Then words started to come through.
“Neil, it’s Mum—”
Through the interference Neil could hardly recognize her voice.
“Listen, we’re—”
“What was that?”
“. . . battery’s running out. We’re—”
Neil gritted his teeth in frustration as the voice was drowned out in another wash of crackling. When it came back his mum was saying, “. . . over the bridge and up the hill. Have you got that, Neil?”
“No!” Neil was starting to panic. “I didn’t hear the first bit. Where are you?”
Carole’s voice came again, obviously shouting, but sounding hardly any louder. “Can’t get back . . . Emily’s hurt, she—” More crackling. “. . . to help Jake.”
“Jake?” Neil repeated, more alarmed than ever. “What about Jake? What’s wrong?”
This time nothing but the crackling noise replied. The connection went dead.
He put down the phone and then tried ringing his mother’s mobile phone number.
It was still unobtainable.
Giving up at last, he went outside to find his father.
Bob had no more success than Neil at getting through to the mobile phone.
“She said Emily was hurt!” Neil kept repeating. “And something’s the matter with Jake. She said something about helping Jake!”
