by Shoo Rayner
‘Here! Round the back!’ Loki called.
Walker skirted round the yard, keeping clear of the house, in case Mrs Scowles was at home and watching.
‘What is it?’ he whispered, as he caught up with Loki, Thor and Stella.
The sheds had been added, one to another, over the years, to make one long shed with different sized rooms and connecting doors. The windows were barred, the doors double-padlocked. The windows at the back were all boarded up. All except one. Thor pointed his nose towards this tiny window. It was more an air vent really.
It was a bit too high for Walker to see in. He looked around for something to stand on. The area behind the shed was a dumping-ground. Among the garden waste, he found an old plastic bucket and turned it upside down against the wall.
Walker stood on it, pulled himself up and peered in. A stench of warm, stale air poured out of the vent onto Walker’s face. It wasn’t air, it felt more like a thick, clammy, dirty liquid. Walker blinked his eyes.
He knew exactly what he was looking at. He’d seen videos and news reports on the TV, but that didn’t help to overcome the shock of seeing the real thing.
The dingy light revealed wooden crates, old packing cases with cage wire strapped across their open fronts. Each contained a little family of dogs. On the floor, in the larger crates, were the bigger dogs: retrievers, golden labradors and poodles. Above them, stacked up to the ceiling, were all the popular smaller breeds, spaniels, terriers, Westies, a boxer, a dachshund, a Pomeranian and, almost out of sight, a pug, howling at a tiny, lifeless shape that lay on the stained sleeping bag that was the little family’s bed.
Rage welled up inside Walker, like molten lava boiling inside a volcano. His eyes blurred, filling with tears of anger and frustration. What could he do? He had to tell someone about this. He had to expose this awful place and the people responsible for it.
But no one would ever believe him. Arlington Wherewithal was a pillar of the community. He was famous for looking after dogs. No one would ever believe he had a puppy farm on his land.
They’d believe it if he had evidence!
Walker pulled his phone from his pocket and began filming. He was concentrating so hard, he didn’t hear the sound of Osmo crashing the gears and revving the engine of the old Land Rover, as he swerved off the road and drove through the gates at the bottom of the drive.
The dogs were jumping up at him, but Walker just thought they wanted to know what he was filming through the vent.
Osmo turned off the drive and clattered down the pot-holed track that led to Keeper’s Cottage.
‘It’s Osmo!’ Loki hissed. ‘Quick! Let’s get out of here!’
The Land Rover slid to a dusty halt.
‘Come on!’ Stella urged.
The car door slammed shut and Osmo’s feet crunched across the gravel.
Finally Walker heard him. He froze.
Bolt barked. The footsteps stopped. The wind dropped.
Walker had never experienced such silence. His heart thumped in his chest, like a sledgehammer pounding inside him. It was so loud he thought Osmo would surely hear it. His throat tightened with fear, his breath became shallow.
‘Who’s there?’ Had Osmo seen them?
‘Come on, Walker! Let’s get out of here!’ Stella rocked from leg to leg, tense, frightened. ‘Now, before it’s too late!’
Gently, Walker turned to ease himself down from the bucket. His sweatshirt was caught on a rusty nail. Drat! He raised himself a little, to unhook it. The bucket was old and the plastic was brittle. As he stood on tiptoe, all his weight was concentrated in one weak spot.
‘CRACK!’ The bucket shattered into pieces. It was as if someone had pulled a rug from underneath him. Walker threw a hand out to break his fall. Don’t let go of the phone, he thought, as he landed in a patch of stinging nettles. The phone was his evidence.
‘Run!’ Stella was by his side, pushing him with her nose.
‘Come out right now!’ Osmo’s angry voice called. ‘I know you’re there and I know who you are! I’m calling the police!’
Stella was desperate! ‘NOW!’ she growled.
Walker jumped up and threw himself into a low, ground-hugging run and chased after her.
Stella followed the scent that Thor and Loki had laid through the woods. Osmo’s angry shouts rang out behind them. Walker’s entire being concentrated on running away from danger. Twice he tripped and stumbled over a root or a twisty, trailing bramble. Each time he rolled and picked himself up in one swift, flowing move, sprinting onwards, through the newly fallen leaves and prickly chestnut skins. His panicked gasps seemed to ring out across the woodland floor. Keep running! Keep running! Don’t stop!
‘Here!’ called Thor. ‘Hide round here. Get your breath back and we can join the path above the house and make it look as if we’re coming from the other direction.’
Walker thought his chest would explode. Would he ever be able to breathe normally again? Would he ever stop feeling so scared?
Slowly his body calmed. He wiped his fingers on his sweatshirt and stuck them in his mouth. The nettle stings throbbed. Small white lumps had swelled on the red, angry skin. He touched the sore spot above his eye and saw blood on his fingers! He’d cut himself. His sweatshirt had a rip in it from the nail. He must look a mess!
Walker gathered his thoughts and tried to clean himself up. He smoothed down his sweatshirt and brushed the leaves and green stains from his jeans. Something didn’t feel right. His pocket was empty.
‘My phone!’ he gasped. ‘No one will believe me if I don’t have the pictures!’
‘Good Lord! What happened to you?’ Arlington’s car purred to a halt, just as Walker and the dogs arrived back in the courtyard. Thor and Loki bounced up to their master, snuffing and squealing their greetings.
Walker felt shaky seeing Arlington after all he’d found out today. He looked down at his clothes. ‘Oh! The dogs went in the lake. S-sorry, I’ll go and clean them up.’
When he came out of the tack room, having cleaned up all three dogs, he saw Arlington deep in conversation with Osmo and another man. The man was showing a folder of papers to Arlington. Something made them laugh in a hearty, haughty way. Osmo stood to one side, keeping a respectful distance, casting sideways glances at Walker. Bolt growled at him.
Walker felt his cheeks burning. Osmo must know it was him at the puppy farm. He quietly locked Thor and Loki into the kennel and said goodbye. It wasn’t likely that Arlington would ask him to look after them again, was it?
Arlington pulled a twenty pound note from his wallet. ‘Here you are!’ He held it out like bait in a trap. He held it a little too tightly. Walker had to tug it to release it from his grasp.
‘Well, the dogs look healthy,’ Arlington smiled. ‘Thanks for all your hard work.’
He held Walker with his piercing blue eyes, searching for something. Walker felt his cheeks flush. He dropped his gaze.
‘Thank you,’ he whispered, tucking the note into his pocket … his empty pocket! What was he going to do about his phone? His throat was dry. ‘C-c-come along, Stella. Let’s get you home.’
The men’s cold laughter followed him down the drive.
That evening, on the way to the meeting at the village hall, Walker went to pick up Jenny and Stella, as they had arranged. Mum wanted to go too, but she knew the hall would be full of Foxley Field dog walkers and their dogs.
‘Apparently my house is not historically important enough,’ said Jenny.
Her eyes were red from crying. ‘I can’t face coming to the meeting tonight,’ she said. ‘Everyone will be watching me and asking questions. I’m not ready for that.’
‘Well, I’m still going,’ said Walker. ‘Can I take Stella with me? We should show our support.’ Stella had already picked up her lead and was waiting by the front door. ‘I’ll bring her back on my way home, afterwards.’
As he headed to the meeting, he noticed that lots of people were arriving with their d
ogs. Walker had an idea. ‘Stella,’ he said, ‘I’m going to need your help.’
The village hall was full of angry people talking nineteen to the dozen. No one wanted to see houses built on Foxley Fields and they wanted to make sure everyone else understood the strength of their feelings.
Geoff and Pam Sowerby sat behind a table at the front. Khan lay down on the floor beside them. However old he was, he had to show that he was still up for the fight. Khan had spent many happy times running around Foxley Fields when he was younger and fitter. He wouldn’t want that experience to be denied to new generations of Foxley village dogs.
Geoff rang a little bell. The gentle tinkle had an instant calming effect. The crowd of people bustled into their seats as Geoff took control of the meeting.
The villagers were angry. One by one they let off steam, waving placards and calling Arlington Wherewithal all sorts of names. One by one they told how much Foxley Fields meant to them, but no one seemed to have any ideas, no one knew what to do. Arlington was rich and important – he had powerful friends in high places.
‘Psst!’ Stella was trying to attract Khan’s attention. ‘Psst!’
The old dog raised an eyebrow. ‘Psst!’ Stella waggled her eyebrows and nodded towards the back of the hall. The old dog frowned. Stella waggled her ears and waved her nose. Finally, Khan seemed to understand. He heaved himself to his feet and quietly padded down the aisle.
Geoff and Pam were used to Khan wandering off. He wouldn’t go far. He couldn’t … he was too old and much too tired.
‘Come on,’ Stella whispered. ‘We need you.’
Walker eased the doors open and let the two dogs into a small lobby at the back of the hall.
‘What’s this all about?’ Khan asked.
‘We have to take matters into our own paws,’ said Stella. ‘Those humans are never going to decide anything, and we have an even more important problem to sort out.’
She told Khan what they had discovered that afternoon. Walker explained what he had seen through the little window at the puppy farm and how he was sure that Arlington knew that he knew the terrible secret.
‘But I lost my phone with the evidence on it.’ Walker sighed. ‘Somehow we have to get the police involved.’
The more he heard, the more Khan seemed to come alive. Their story fired his sense of injustice. You could almost see his mind at work, plotting, planning, working out what actions they might take.
Finally he nodded. ‘Remember the end of One Hundred and One Dalmatians?’ he asked.
‘You know that movie?’ Walker was surprised.
Stella rolled her eyes. ‘We all love that movie. I know it off by heart!’ She turned to Khan. ‘Do you mean the twilight call? When all the dogs start barking, sending a message across London?’
‘That’s it.’ Khan nodded. ‘We need to do something like that. We need the help of every dog in the village. Many of them are here tonight. We need them all to break free tomorrow at six and meet up at Foxley Fields. I’ll give everyone instructions there.’
The doors opened. The meeting was over and people began to leave.
‘We need your help,’ Stella and Khan told the other dogs as they walked past with their owners. ‘Break free and meet up in Foxley Fields at six o’clock tomorrow evening. This is very important – be there and tell any other dog you meet.’
The dog owners of Foxley were perplexed that night. Their dogs seemed excited. Maybe it was the full moon having a weird effect on them?
A very nervous Jenny Little opened the door to Walker and Stella. ‘How did the meeting go?’
‘Oh, okay,’ Walker nodded. ‘We have a sort of plan. I need to take Stella out again at six o’clock tomorrow evening. Is that okay?’
Stella wagged her tail and gave her the look that Jenny found impossible to say no to. ‘Yes, okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Night, night.’
Khan was old and tired, but this new project had fired him up. The village needed him. It would take a while to get to Foxley Fields. He needed to be the first to arrive, in case some of the younger, more excitable dogs went off without proper instructions.
At a quarter past five, Khan picked up his lead, just as he used to when he was younger. He padded down the hallway, sat down on the welcome mat by the front door and began to howl.
Pam and Geoff looked up from their ipads and stared at each other. ‘What’s the matter with Khan? said Geoff.
Pam leaned back in her stress-free recliner chair, stretching her neck to see round the door frame. Her jaw dropped in astonishment. ‘I don’t believe it. He wants to go for a walk!’
‘What?’ Geoff was thrilled to see Khan so animated. He was even making an effort to wag his tail! ‘Come on then, boy,’ Geoff said. ‘Let’s go and get some fresh air.’
Khan led the way down the garden path. Phase one of the plan was underway!
Khan seemed to know where he was going, so Geoff let him take the lead. He was old. He had earned the choice.
Similar scenes were unfolding all around the village. Dogs who had received the message were howling by front doors, begging to be taken for a walk. The moment they saw their chance – the moment their owners lost concentration, the moment the grip on their leads loosened for a second, they were off!
All over the village, dogs were leaping over walls, scrabbling under fences and crashing through hedges. They came from all directions, all of them heading for Foxley Fields.
At ten to six, as Walker left Jenny’s house with Stella, a river of dogs ran past her front gate. ‘Hey, Stella, this is the best fun ever!’ Pixie yapped, as she ran along the pavement, tripping up the feet of bigger dogs.
‘What is going on?!’ Jenny looked alarmed.
‘It’s okay,’ Walker reassured her. ‘We need to get to Foxley Fields by six. I’ll tell you all about it later.’
Jenny shook her head as she watched them go. She couldn’t say no. An incredible bond had grown between Stella and this boy, who seemed to have made such an impact on their lives in such a short time.
On the corner of Hazel Drive, Benjie was desperate. His owner was always late home, but this was ridiculous! Benjie was going to miss all the action. In his frustration, he had destroyed four letters, a double-glazing advert, three magazines, a tea towel and a pot plant, that he’d knocked over by mistake. The hallway was knee-deep in leaves, potting compost and shredded paper.
At five minutes to six, he heard the front gate click. Hooray! His owner was home. The key slid into the lock. As soon as the door was open wide enough, Benjie squeezed through and was off like greased lightning, down Hazel Drive, across the High Street, making a learner driver do an emergency stop before they’d ever been taught how to.
Boss was pacing up and down by the shop side gate. He heard Benjie’s claws skittering along the pavement and called out to know what was happening. Boss felt so left out, locked up in his concrete yard. Something big was going on and he wasn’t part of it.
‘Can’t stop!’ Benjie yapped, as he skidded round the corner, taking the short cut through the church yard, weaving in and out of the gravestones to the tumbled-down section of wall that brought him out into Foxley Fields.
‘I’m not late, am I?’ he barked.
Geoff Sowerby had no idea what was going on. Khan was surrounded by twenty or thirty dogs of every kind and size. It was like the starting line of the all-comers drag race at the village fête. They listened intently, as Khan ruffed, barked and growled his instructions.
‘That man, Arlington Wherewithal, is running a horrible puppy farm on the Foxley Manor Estate.’ Khan began. ‘We are going to save those poor imprisoned mothers and their puppies.’
The audience broke into a cacophony of tales about Arlington. None of the dogs liked him.
Pixie shivered. ‘The way he pulls you about when he’s judging – it makes me want to bite him! But he’s so scary, I wouldn’t dare.’
‘And his eyes are so cruel!’ said Benjie.
Khan held up his paw and calmed the crowd. ‘Here’s what we are going to do,’ he said. ‘Listen carefully. This could be dangerous, so stick to the plan.’
‘What is going on?’ Geoff called across to Walker, who was crouched next to Stella. He knew the dogs would listen to Khan more than him.
‘Don’t worry, Mister Sowerby,’ he said, reassuringly. ‘Khan has everything under control!’
By now, anxious owners were pouring into Foxley Fields, waving leads and calling their dogs.
‘Quick, Khan,’ Stella called. ‘We need to get going!’
‘Does everyone understand what to do?’ Khan asked.
‘WOOOF!’ The dogs roared their reply.
‘Then go – and everyone stick to the plan!’
The band of village dogs raced towards Foxley Manor. Their owners, who had only just caught up with them, collapsed, breathless and confused. What was going on? Their dogs seemed to be under some mysterious spell. It was like a kind of mass hypnosis! Now that their pets were disappearing into the trees, they’d never catch them.
‘Someone – call – the – police!’ Ellie Snapchat panted, as she collapsed onto the dewy grass.
Walker and Stella ran up the hill and made their way to the top of the estate so they could come round behind the kennels without being seen.
All around them dogs were barking. The plan was for them to scatter across the estate, then bark and run, bark and run, to cause confusion and make it sound like the woods were filled with hundreds of wild dogs. Stella ran ahead to tell Thor and Loki what was happening.
