The Snow Puppy and Other Christmas Stories

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The Snow Puppy and Other Christmas Stories Page 8

by Jenny Dale


  Emily nudged Neil. “That’s Brett Benson,” she said. “He’s Sir Lancelot in the film. He’s gorgeous!”

  “I’m sorry I missed my cue,” Brett Benson said. “But it was this wretched dog – he got in the way of the horse.”

  “That’s not fair!” Neil said hotly. “Prince was nowhere near his horse!” Neil could not help himself – he had to make sure the director did not blame Prince for something he did not do. With Jake in tow he marched across to Brian Mason and the knight, and bent to rumple Prince’s ears as the cocker spaniel bounded up, barking excitedly. “Sorry to interrupt, Mr Mason,” he said. “I was watching just now and thought Prince was fine.” Neil glared up at the mounted knight.

  Brett Benson glared back. “Huh! How am I supposed to work when the set’s swarming with kids? Where’s the proper dog trainer?”

  “Here.” The woman who spoke was tall and fair-haired, wearing a red puffer jacket. “And this ‘kid’ is quite right, Brett. Prince wasn’t in the way.”

  Brian Mason gave Neil a distracted look. “Oh, hello, Neil.” He quickly turned away. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s go again. Maggie, make sure you hang on to Prince when he runs over here, eh? Right, folks, places everybody . . . come on, hurry. Brett, you’re going to be great.”

  Brett gave Neil another dirty look, and adjusted his helmet. Max came up, tossed off a “Hi, talk to you in a minute,” and went off again with Prince.

  Two members of the film crew hurried on to the set from the trailers, to check the actors’ costume and make-up ready for the new take.

  The fair-haired woman smiled at Neil and Emily and said, “You must be the Parkers. I’m Maggie Brown, the film’s dog trainer. From what Max has told me, it sounds as if you’re just as keen on dogs as I am!”

  Before Neil and Emily could say hello, the barking began again. This time, when Prince dashed across the square, Maggie was waiting to grip him by the collar.

  The scene went according to plan and when Max was out of range of the cameras, he relaxed and walked over to join Neil and the others with the dogs. “Thanks for sticking up for Prince. Brett Benson’s a real pain.”

  Emily looked disappointed. “I thought he’d be nice.”

  “No way.” Max sounded angry. “He can’t stand it that Prince is the real star of this film. He complains the whole time.”

  Max squatted down to pat Prince, and the dog licked his face enthusiastically. “You were great, boy,” he said, admiring his shining golden coat and his lively, intelligent expression. “By the way, it’s great to see you both – and Jake,” he added quickly, as the young collie pushed forward, demanding attention. “And I’ve got news for you . . .”

  “What is it?” Emily asked excitedly.

  “Something really special.” Max sounded mysterious. “But you have to wait until we get back to the castle.” He called to the director as he came striding up. “Brian, are we finished?”

  “No, sorry,” Brian said. “Before the light goes, I want to pick up the scene where you’re searching for Sir Kay.”

  “OK,” said Max. He turned to Neil and Emily. “This shouldn’t take long. It’s just me and Prince.”

  “Right,” said Brian, leading Max back towards the square. Neil and the others followed and waited at the edge of the acting area, where they overheard the director reminding Max of the scene. “Sir Kay went to fight the Black Knight and was captured. You and Prince look for him, and Prince finds him wounded inside the inn. He barks to you out of the window, and you go in. Have you got that?”

  Max nodded.

  “We’ll rehearse it once,” said Brian, “and then we’ll go for a take.”

  Maggie strode across the village square and into the inn, ready to make sure that Prince barked on cue. Max and Prince both vanished around a corner.

  Moments later, the crew settled down and Brian called, “Action!”

  Prince reappeared, sniffing his way across the square until he pawed at the inn door. It swung open, and Prince went in. Now Zeno came cautiously out of the doorway opposite, peered through the window of the next house, and moved on.

  A camera running alongside him on tracks followed his progress.

  The shutters of one of the inn windows were pushed open. Prince had his front paws up on the sill and let out a sharp bark. Zeno looked up. Then, as Prince barked again, the sound was drowned out by a sudden crash and a splintering noise as the roof of the inn sagged inwards.

  Max yelled, “Prince!” and started to run. Prince scrabbled at the sill as if he was trying to climb out. Then he vanished as the walls started to tilt crazily like a collapsing house of cards.

  “It’s falling apart!” Neil exclaimed from his vantage point nearby. “Prince will be trapped!”

  2

  Without a moment’s hesitation, Neil thrust Jake’s lead into Emily’s hands and sprinted across the square towards the collapsing building. Max ducked his head and vanished inside. Neil followed, even though he heard Brian Mason yelling, “No! Come back!”

  Inside the air was thick with dust. Blinking as it stung his eyes, Neil saw that some of the scaffolding poles had collapsed and Max was trying to climb over them.

  “Prince is here somewhere,” he gasped when he saw Neil. “But I can’t see him. Or Maggie.”

  Neil couldn’t see them either. In the far corner was a wooden staircase leading up to the window where Prince had appeared. It looked as if some of the steps had given way and pulled the outer wall down with them. The scaffolding had shifted so that it wasn’t holding up the roof properly. The roof was tilted inwards, half-covering the remains of the stairs.

  Neil thought Prince and Maggie must be somewhere underneath. He could still hear Brian yelling at him from outside, but he took no notice. Scrambling over the scaffolding poles, he reached the sagging roof.

  “Max – help me shift this!” he yelled, coughing as the dust got into his throat.

  There was a sudden whining from beneath the board, and then Maggie Brown’s voice. “I’ve got Prince. We’re OK, I think . . .”

  With Max beside him, Neil grabbed the edge of the board and heaved upwards. For a few seconds it refused to budge.

  “It’s caught on something,” Max said, trying to get his shoulder underneath.

  Neil and Max hauled on the roof again. Suddenly Neil realized there was someone else beside them, helping to take the weight. The roof swung upwards and Maggie Brown, bent almost double, stumbled out, pushing Prince in front of her.

  The man beside Neil let go of the roof, grabbed Prince by the collar and dragged him through the gap at the back of the building. Maggie followed him as Neil and Max let the roof drop. Neil staggered, off-balance, as it crashed down, and wrapped his arms around his head to protect himself from a rain of debris.

  Just as Neil clutched Max’s arm and pulled his friend to safety, he heard a soft crunching sound, and behind him the whole of the village inn folded and settled into a heap of wreckage.

  Maggie Brown was kneeling on the ground outside, trying to get her breath. The other man was still holding Prince. Weak with relief, Neil staggered towards them. “Thanks!” he gasped. “That was great! Are you all right?”

  The man let Prince go and straightened up. He had thinning dark hair and a straggly beard, and he wore the drab tunic and leggings of a medieval peasant. His face was smeared with make-up and dust.

  “No problem,” he said abruptly. “I think the dog’s OK.”

  Before Neil could reply, Emily came dashing up, along with Jake and a tall, dark-haired young woman. Neil recognized Suzie, Max’s chaperone, who had to be on set when he was filming. Right now she looked furious.

  “Do you know what might have happened?” she said to Neil. “You and Max could have been killed!”

  “We had to save Prince,” Max said, falling to his knees beside his beloved dog and running his hands over him to check for injuries. “Thanks, Neil, you were great.”

  “It wasn’t me,” Neil s
tarted to explain. “It was . . .” He looked round, but the peasant had disappeared. “Hey, where did he go?”

  “I didn’t see him leave – but I’m so grateful to him. Maybe he was one of the extras,” said Max. “Tell me if you see him, Neil. I want to thank him. I don’t think Prince is hurt at all.”

  “What happened?” Emily asked. “What made it collapse like that?”

  By now Maggie had recovered, and was helping Max to examine Prince. “I don’t know,” she said. “I was waiting inside ready for Prince to come down from the window. When I put my weight on the steps they gave way, and then the whole lot started to come down.”

  “Are you all right, Maggie?” asked Brian Mason, approaching and peering at Prince over Max’s shoulder.

  “Bruised, that’s all,” said Maggie with a smile. “It’s Prince I’m worried about.”

  Prince was standing quietly; the shock had subdued his usual boisterous nature. Neil guessed that would soon wear off and the cocker spaniel didn’t seem to be physically injured.

  “We’d better get the vet to check him out,” said Brian. “Go up to the castle and give him a ring.” He gestured towards the ruins of the inn. “Now we’ll be held up again until this is fixed. Honestly, sometimes I think there’s a jinx on this film.”

  Neil and the others headed for the castle. Flakes of snow started to drift down and quickly grew into thick flurries that were swept across the path by the wind. Neil hunched his shoulders and buried his hands deep in his pockets.

  “Max,” he asked, “what did Brian mean – about a jinx on the film?”

  Max frowned, looking worried. “This isn’t the first accident,” he said. “A couple of days ago one of the horses went berserk when he had a scene with Prince. Prince was nearly trampled, weren’t you, boy? And then on another day part of my costume went missing and turned up in Prince’s basket! Brian thought he’d dragged it in there, but I know he didn’t.”

  “Prince would never do anything like that,” said Emily.

  Daylight was beginning to fade as they reached the open space in front of Ainsworth Castle. The snow shone eerily in the dying light. Neil tramped thankfully across the causeway, looking forward to a hot drink and something to eat.

  The arched gateway led into a courtyard. The main entrance to the castle was at the top of a flight of steps opposite, through a pair of thick wooden doors studded with iron nails. Neil and the others stood stamping snow off their boots in the hallway, while Jake shook himself and showered everybody with icy drops. Maggie disappeared, saying she would phone the vet.

  “Max, you told us you had some news,” Emily said.

  “Yes,” said Neil, stripping off his jacket. “And we had to wait for it until we got back to the castle. So come on, what is it?”

  Max started to smile, his worried look vanishing. “You’ll really like this,” he promised. “Won’t they, Prince?”

  Prince barked in agreement.

  “I’ll have to find Adrian,” Max went on. “He said he’d help while I’m on set.”

  Max pulled open the doors to the Great Hall and went inside; Neil followed him, giving Emily a puzzled look, wondering what Adrian Bartlett, Lord Ainsworth’s steward, had to do with Max’s secret. Then he stood still, gaping. “Wow!” he exclaimed.

  Neil had been in the hall of Ainsworth Castle before, but he had never seen it like this. Tapestries covered the walls. Iron sconces holding torches were fixed to the pillars. Over the enormous fireplace at the far end brightly painted shields were hanging. A huge round table stood in the middle, surrounded by carved wooden seats.

  “King Arthur’s Great Hall,” Max said.

  Neil could easily imagine armoured knights coming to sit in council round the table. It took him a minute to notice the lights fixed high in the roof, and remember that this was a film set.

  “It’s wonderful!” said Emily. “It looks so authentic!”

  In front of the fireplace were two people Neil recognized; Jeff Calton, the producer of The Time Travellers, and Adrian Bartlett. Adrian was a smallish man with fair hair and a thin, beaky face. He broke off what he was saying to Jeff as Neil and the others came in.

  “Hello,” he said, smiling. “Welcome to Camelot.”

  “Adrian,” said Max, “where’s . . . you know?”

  Adrian’s eyes twinkled. “Over here.”

  He beckoned them towards King Arthur’s Round Table, and the massive carved chair where the king himself would sit. As Neil came closer, he saw a tiny head looking up from the chair’s velvet cushion. A silky golden head, with soft, floppy ears and huge brown eyes. One silky paw was dangling over the edge. The little pup stirred and let out a high-pitched yap.

  Prince went to stand beside the chair, and looked up at the miniature of himself, whining softly.

  Max’s grin was wide enough to split his face. “Meet Princess,” he said.

  3

  “Oh, she’s gorgeous!” Emily exclaimed. “Can I hold her?”

  Max carefully lifted the cocker spaniel pup, and Emily cuddled her with a blissful smile on her face.

  “Where did you get her?” Neil asked. “And why didn’t you tell us?”

  “She’s Prince’s daughter,” Max said. He looked a bit embarrassed. “We were on holiday this summer in a cottage in Wales, and some people down the road had a cocker spaniel bitch called Merry. She and Prince got together before anybody knew about it.”

  Emily giggled. “Prince, you naughty dog!”

  “They were all good pups,” Max went on, “and Merry’s owner was pleased in the end. I didn’t tell you before, because I wasn’t sure if I could have Princess. I’ve only just got her – she’s my Christmas present from Mum and Dad.”

  “She’s a great present,” said Emily. She held Princess close and stroked her head. “You’re going to be a star just like your dad!”

  Princess gave a sharp little yap as if she agreed, and swiped her tongue over Emily’s face.

  “She’s a star already,” said Max.

  “What are you feeding her?” Neil asked.

  “I wanted to ask you about that,” Max said. “Merry’s owner recommended the puppy meal that she uses, but it looks a bit boring to me. What can I give Princess to make her meals more interesting?”

  “You need the Puppy Patrol advice service, mate,” Neil said. He always had all the latest dog care facts at his fingertips. “How old is she?”

  “Twelve weeks.”

  “Well, when Jake was a young pup I used to give him cereal and milk for variety. Then you could start adding in just a little bit of meat, with some rice, or maybe pasta—”

  “Hey, I’m not running a restaurant!” said Max, laughing.

  Jake tentatively approached the chair and sniffed the young spaniel pup. Princess drew back initially, then yapped and welcomed the Border collie to her castle with a brief touching of their black button noses.

  Everybody laughed.

  “Plenty of fresh drinking water too,” Neil went on, “but you know that anyway. And not too many treats, because—”

  Before he could finish, Jeff Calton, who had been scribbling notes on a clipboard, came up and said, “What’s the matter? You two are filthy! And Prince!”

  Max explained about the collapsing village inn, and how he and Neil had rescued Prince. “Maggie’s gone to phone the vet to get him to check Prince out,” he finished.

  As he was speaking, Jeff had begun to look more and more angry. “I’ve had enough of this!” he said. “The film can’t stand further delays. Now I’ll have to talk to Brian and get those scenes rescheduled. I’ll have a few words to say to the set builders, too.”

  He strode off. Then Adrian said, “I’d better let Lord Ainsworth know as well,” and followed him.

  Max was starting to look worried again. Hoping to take his friend’s mind off his problems, Neil asked, “So what’s this film all about?”

  “Well,” Max explained, “Zeno and Prince get carried back
through the time tunnel to the court of King Arthur. They meet the witch queen Morgan le Fay, and she steals the time tunnel controller, so Zeno can’t get away. Morgan wants to kill King Arthur and make herself High Queen, so Zeno and Prince help Arthur to defeat her.”

  “Sounds great,” Neil said.

  “But just a minute,” Emily objected. “King Arthur’s a legend. He wasn’t real, was he? I mean, not like this, with a castle and knights and a Round Table. So how can Zeno get into his time?”

  Max shrugged and grinned. “Don’t ask me, ask the scriptwriters!”

  While Max changed out of costume, Neil and Emily phoned their mum and dad to tell them they’d arrived safely. Carole Parker answered the phone.

  “How was your journey?” she asked when Emily had poured out all the news about Princess. “The TV news said there was snow up there.”

  “Lots of it!” said Neil. “Listen, Mum, there’s something I forgot to say. Keep Squirt out of my bedroom, will you? I’ve hidden all your Christmas presents in there.”

  “Sarah is teaching Fudge to sing ‘Jingle Bells’. I think that will keep her occupied over the next few days.”

  Neil laughed. His little sister, Sarah, thought that Fudge, her hamster, was clever enough to do anything. “That’s just like Squirt!” he said, still laughing as he said goodbye and put the phone down.

  Neil woke next morning to find that Jake had sprung up onto his bed and started to lick his face. “Get off, trouble!” he said, pushing Jake gently to one side and sitting up.

  The bedroom was cold and dark – Ainsworth Castle had no central heating – and when Neil squinted at the clock on the bedside table he saw that it was still only seven. He would have liked to crawl back under the warm blankets and sleep for another hour, but as soon as Jake saw he had succeeded in waking up his owner the young dog leapt off the bed and started to paw at the door.

  “OK, boy,” Neil said, sighing heavily. “You win! Walk before breakfast.”

  He had a quick wash and pulled on warm clothes and boots. Before he had finished getting ready, his door burst open and Emily came in.

 

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