by Holly Webb
They nodded thoughtfully.
“Although it probably wouldn’t be popular with Mrs Angel if you picked another school policy to fight against,” Mr Finlay pointed out hurriedly. “I think the Fairtrade jumper was enough for the minute.”
“So we shouldn’t campaign for longer summer holidays then?” Poppy sighed.
“Better not. But have a think, girls. I’ll be interested to see what you come up with.”
He really meant it, Izzy thought, as he walked away. She just wished she could think of something that they could do…
“Dad, you remember Poppy from the fashion show?” Izzy looked at him pleadingly. Please don’t have anything planned! she said to herself hopefully. Occasionally they went to the cinema on Fridays, or drove to visit her grandma.
“Yes, I do!” Her dad beamed at Poppy. “The champion mug-washer-upper.”
“That’s me.” Poppy smiled back. “Please, can Izzy come back to my house tonight? And stay for tea?”
Izzy watched her dad’s eyes widen, and a delighted smile spread across his face. “Of course…” he started to say, and then he trailed off, and looked at her worriedly. Oh no – he had arranged to go and see Gran, after all.
But that wasn’t it. “Izzy, you do want to go?” He sounded anxious, and Izzy stared back at him in surprise. Of course she wanted to go! Why wouldn’t she?
Oh! Of course – he was thinking of Ali, and the way she’d lied. He wasn’t sure if Poppy wasn’t pressuring her to come over. Izzy hugged him. “It’s OK, Dad, really. Poppy isn’t like that at all.”
Poppy stood there looking confused, and Izzy’s dad glanced at her apologetically. “I’m sorry, Poppy. Izzy had some trouble with one of the other girls in your class – I was just checking…”
Poppy nodded. “I’ve been on Ali’s bad side too,” she assured him.
Izzy’s dad sighed. “I don’t understand girls sometimes,” he muttered. “Is she just horrible to everybody?”
Poppy and Izzy looked at each other, and nodded. “Pretty much,” Izzy agreed.
Poppy’s mum walked over, smiling hopefully. “Is it OK for Izzy to come round? Poppy really enjoyed getting to know her better when we did our trip to that lovely clothes shop.”
“It’s very nice of you to have her. I’ll give you my phone number. Shall I take your stuff home with me now, Izzy? Gives us less chance to forget it later.” He sorted out the numbers with Poppy’s mum, and gave Izzy a kiss, then headed off to his truck with her school bag, waving.
“Don’t forget, Poppy, you promised to take Billy for a walk this afternoon,” Poppy’s mum reminded her as they walked down the road to the car.
Poppy made a face. “I haven’t taken him on a really long walk in ages. Do you mind coming out for a walk, Izzy? I’d forgotten.”
Izzy shook her head, smiling shyly. “Is Billy a dog? I’d love to go for a walk.”
“He’s an English Bull Terrier. He’s gorgeous, and ever so friendly, not scary at all. But he’s really dim. Totally stupid. Alex calls him the dumb blond, because he’s a sort of reddish-gold colour.”
Izzy laughed. “Bull Terriers are supposed to be so fierce, though, aren’t they?”
Poppy shrugged. “Whoever said that didn’t tell Billy. He’s a sweetheart. But they have a bad reputation. We got Billy from a shelter, his last owners didn’t want him because he’d got too big.”
Izzy frowned. “But what did they think was going to happen? Puppies grow up.”
“Exactly!” Poppy nodded approvingly.
“What Poppy isn’t telling you is that Billy is pretty enormous, even for a Bull Terrier,” Poppy’s mum put in. “He’s got a chest like a barrel. And he’s incredibly strong.”
Poppy started to laugh. “Not long after we got him, I answered the door, and it was a man trying to get Mum to buy double glazing. I kept saying we didn’t want any, and that Mum and Dad were both busy, and he just wouldn’t go away. Billy had come to the door as well, and he happened to see next door’s cat walk along our front wall, just as the double glazing man was getting really annoying. He kept calling me Miss in a really nasty sort of voice.” She chuckled to herself.
“What did you do?” Izzy asked, intrigued.
“It was very naughty,” Poppy’s mum said, but she didn’t sound as though she minded all that much.
“I let go of Billy’s collar.” Poppy grinned. “And he’d seen Pepper from next door, so he went off like a rocket. He’s not bright, like we said, and he’s got a sort of one-track mind. If he wants something, he just goes and gets it, unless you tell him not to. So he went to bark his head off at Pepper – straight through the double glazing man. He only knocked the man into the hedge,” she told Izzy reassuringly. “He wasn’t hurt.”
“But he could have been, and he was very, very cross,” her mum reminded her. “Still, he should have known to take no for an answer.” She smiled at the girls in the rear-view mirror. “Strangely enough, no one’s tried to come and sell us anything at the door since. I think we’re on a black-list.”
Poppy sniggered.
“Is it OK for us to take Billy for a walk?” Izzy asked, a little anxiously. “When he’s so big, I mean?”
“It’s all right. He’s pretty good. We don’t usually let him off the lead – he might not come back if he saw something more interesting, and he’s got no road-sense at all, either. But if he’s on the lead, he walks fine. He’s got one of those extending leads,” Poppy explained. “We just have to hold on tight if there’s a cat.”
“Or a squirrel,” her mum added.
“Oh yeah. Or a dustbin lorry, he really doesn’t like those.”
“Why not?” Izzy asked, her eyes widening. This was a whole new world – she’d never had a dog, her mum didn’t like them, and Dad said it wouldn’t be fair now with them both out all day. Izzy had tried arguing that a dog could go to work with him, but he wasn’t convinced.
Poppy shook her head. “I’m not sure. The smell? Or maybe he doesn’t like the way the bins go up and down at the back. He barks his head off, and tries to chase them. It’s really embarrassing. We had to give our dustmen some chocolates at Christmas after he slipped out of the gate one morning and chased them all down the road.” She shuddered, remembering. “He wasn’t quite as big then, luckily. And one of the dustmen had a Bull Terrier too, he was really nice about it. His one goes ballistic at fire engines, he said.”
Izzy decided that she wasn’t going to offer to hold Billy’s lead, as there was bound to be a dustbin lorry rolling past just at the wrong moment, and she wasn’t sure she could face grovelling to a team of angry dustmen.
She could hear excited barking as they walked up the path to Poppy’s house, and somebody shouting from indoors. It sounded like, “Shut up, you dim mutt!”
Billy didn’t, but it was a happy sort of barking, and when Poppy’s mum opened the door, and hurried Poppy and Izzy in, he whisked around them, still barking, and wagging his tail frantically. It thumped against Izzy’s legs, and she could see what Poppy meant about Billy being big – even his tail was strong! He was a very strange-looking dog, Izzy thought, but in a nice way. He was mostly a golden-red colour, with white paws, white tummy, and a white blaze down the middle of his triangular nose. He stared up at Izzy with his head on one side, looking at her hopefully from small black eyes, as if she might have brought him something to eat.
“I think you need him over there,” Izzy whispered, carefully patting Billy’s head.
One of Poppy’s brothers was disappearing up the stairs with a plate piled high with toast. “Hi, Mum.” He waved at them vaguely.
“Just a light snack?” his mum called after him, sighing.
He didn’t answer her, and Izzy realised he had earphones in.
“Right, well, there’s obviously no point cooking dinner just yet. Your dad’s not home anyway, Poppy, and Jake’s at football till later. Why don’t you two have a snack – biscuits, or you can have toast if that pig u
pstairs has left any bread. Then we can all have dinner when you get back from your walk.”
At the word walk, Billy suddenly erupted into the kitchen and started barking again. He’d been sniffing Poppy’s schoolbag in the hallway in case she’d brought anything slightly edible home.
“Mum! You have to spell that word out!” Poppy moaned. “Now he won’t stop barking till we take him.”
“Sorry!” Her mum quickly stuffed a handful of biscuits and a couple of apples into a plastic bag, and handed it to Izzy. “Take my phone with you, girls, just in case. Where are you going to go?” she half-shouted over the barking, which was getting louder as Poppy fetched Billy’s lead off a hook in the understairs cupboard and he practically exploded with excitement.
“Umm, through the park and along the path by the river? That should wear him out a bit,” Poppy suggested.
“OK. Back by half-five then?”
Poppy nodded, and the girls hurried out with Billy bouncing around them like an enormous puppy. Thankfully, he stopped barking once they got out of the front door, and he understood that they really were going for a walk – they hadn’t just been teasing him with the lead. He set off at a fast pace, pulling hard on his collar, and making strangled noises.
“Is he OK?” Izzy asked worriedly. It sounded as though his collar was hurting him.
“He’s fine, he’s just a twit. Billy, heel!” Poppy said firmly, pulling him back.
Billy looked up at her mournfully. His long sloping nose made him quite good at mournful, Izzy thought. And despite Poppy saying he wasn’t very clever, he definitely knew how to milk it.
“I’m not cross, you silly dog.” Poppy patted him. “But you’ll break your neck pulling like that.”
“Couldn’t you use some alternative therapies to calm him down a bit?” Izzy asked mischievously. She was expecting Poppy to tell her not to be so stupid, but instead her friend sighed.
“I did try. I borrowed Mum’s Rescue Remedy, but it just made him sneeze. I think he ought to have a course of massage, actually, but Dad said there was no way he was paying for it.”
Izzy snorted with laughter. She could just imagine Billy lying on a table with his legs in the air, being massaged. “You can’t really do massage on dogs!” she said disbelievingly.
“Of course you can!” Poppy looked at her in surprise. “It’s really good. Great for stress and relaxation. That’s why Billy could do with it – he’s just too mad all the time.”
Izzy nodded. “I suppose it would calm him down, if he’d keep still.” She used to give her mum foot-rubs sometimes, she remembered, with a little jolt. Her mum had said it was blissful, and it made her want to fall asleep.
“There’s a vet in Malton that does all sorts of alternative therapy for dogs. Massage. Acupuncture.”
“Acupuncture? Like, with needles? They do that to dogs too?” Izzy sounded horrified.
“It’s supposed to be really good for things like arthritis. Achy bones. Billy doesn’t need that, though.” Poppy eyed him. “Which is good, because to be honest, I can’t see him letting anybody stick needles in him and keep them there. He howls if we even walk past the door of the vet’s, and he hasn’t had to go and have any vaccinations for ages.”
“Really? He looks so – you know, big and brave.”
“Nope. He’s a wuss. But we love him anyway,” Poppy told her happily as they headed into the park. “Just tell me if you see any other dogs coming up. I’m going to let his lead pull out.”
“OK. Would he chase them?” Izzy looked round anxiously, but she couldn’t see any other dogs at all.
“Probably not, but you never know. And because he’s so big, if he gets in a scrap with another dog, their owner always seems to blame Billy, which is really unfair. It’s the little yappy dogs you need to watch, like Yorkshire Terriers, and Dachshunds – they can be really mean. And then their owner arrives, and yells at Billy for upsetting poor little Fluffball.”
“I hadn’t realised it was so exciting, having a dog,” Izzy murmured, keeping a sharp eye out for Yorkshire Terriers.
Poppy grinned. “Billy’s sort of a dog and a half. He always gets into everything. But he’s great at home, too – he loves watching TV, he’ll curl up with you for ages.”
Izzy nodded. That sounded lovely – a big, cuddly dog to snuggle with when Dad was busy doing work stuff in the evenings.
“Look, if we go down that path there,” Poppy pointed out through a gate, “we come to the river path. Have you been down there before?”
Izzy shook her head. “No. I’ve never been to this park, either, our house is the other side of town.”
“It’s a bit messy, but I like looking at the water, and Billy loves it. I think he smells water rats, or something like that. He goes sniffing along like a bloodhound.”
Billy had caught the scent of the river path already, and he speeded up, his ears pricking with excitement.
“Wow…” Izzy looked around in surprise. The river ran through the centre of town too, but it was all pretty there, with benches, and grassy banks. Lots of people went there for picnics.
“I know, it’s such a mess.” Poppy sighed. “What is it about shopping trolleys? I can see at least three of them.”
The river bank was covered in litter, and the river itself looked like some weird piece of modern art, with stuff sticking out all over the place. As well as the shopping trolleys, there was a bike, and a bit of a boat, and Izzy was pretty sure she could see a mattress.
“Why do people dump all this stuff here?” she asked. “It would be really pretty, without all the rubbish.”
There were benches, and a picnic table set further back on the grass, but she couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to come and eat their lunch here. It was grim.
Poppy shrugged. “I guess once one person does it, everyone else thinks it’s OK.”
Billy was sniffing happily on the end of his long lead, poking his big nose in and out of the clumps of grass, and snapping at bees and butterflies.
“Don’t eat that!” Poppy scolded, seeing him snap his teeth shut millimetres away from a fat bumblebee. “It’s not food! Remember last time? You were swollen up for days, dim dog.”
Billy laid his ears back and looked ashamed of himself, but it only lasted a second before he was whiffling through the grasses again, his tail swishing back and forth in an excited blur.
“I don’t see how you could get a boat down here.” Izzy went closer to the water. “It’s so full of stuff. You’d catch it all underneath.”
“I don’t think many narrowboats try and come down this bit,” Poppy said. “This is like an extra little loop, you don’t have to use it to get along the river towards the town centre.” Then she jerked forward as Billy yanked on his lead. “Oi, Billy, stop it!”
But Billy was too excited to stop. He raced on, pulling Poppy after him.
“He’s chasing something,” Izzy said anxiously, trying to grab the lead and help Poppy pull, but the lead part was a thin cord, and it just ran through her fingers. “Ugh! It’s a rat!”
“A water rat,” Poppy panted grimly. “Billy! Stop! Ow!” She fell forwards, tripping over an old bag that someone had abandoned, and let go of the lead. “Oh no! Billy!”
The big golden dog shot off down the river path, his lead bouncing behind him, chasing something small and brown and furry.
Unfortunately, the small brown furry thing was a water rat – or at least it was a rat that could swim, because it jumped straight into the water, and Billy jumped after it.
Billy floundered about in the water, looking very surprised at himself – clearly he hadn’t really meant to jump in, he’d just followed the rat. Luckily it didn’t look to be too deep, and Billy seemed to have a natural doggy-paddle.
“You idiot dog!” Poppy muttered, crouching down by the bank. “Come here! Come on! He’s going to be a nightmare to haul out, he’s so heavy.”
“Is there anything we can use to help?” Izzy looke
d around. “Something he could scramble on to?” There was so much junk, there had to be something.
“Oh no, Billy, stop, not that way!” Poppy wailed, and there was a hurt whimper from the water.
“What happened?” Izzy gasped. “Did something bite him?”
Poppy shook her head. “It’s a bike – I didn’t see it under the water, and I called him – now I think his paw’s stuck in it.”
Billy was whimpering and struggling, trying to pull his leg free, and getting panicky.
Izzy felt panicky too, and he wasn’t even her dog, but Poppy lay down on the bank and stretched her arms out to him. “Shhh, shhh,” she whispered, in a soothing whisper. “Keep still, baby, we’ll get it out. Ow,” she added, back in her normal voice.
“Tell me what to do,” Izzy whispered, crouching next to her. “Can I lift the bike up, or anything?”
“Yes, lift that bit. And I’ll pull Billy – if he’s hurt he might not want anyone he doesn’t know touching him. Pull! Now!”
Izzy yanked at the twisted bike wheel, and Poppy heaved on Billy’s collar, and he half jumped, half fell out of the water, right on top of them both.
“Owwww,” Izzy moaned. “He weighs a ton. Is he OK?”
Poppy wriggled. “Oooh, Billy, get off. Let’s see your paw. Good boy. What a good dog.”
Billy limped his way off them, and sat down, holding up his hurt paw, and looking miserable. “Poor baby,” Poppy murmured, using that quiet whisper again. “It’s not cut or anything. Perhaps he just banged it. Oh, Billy, you are a monster,” she said, giving him a big hug. “I’m really sorry, Izzy. I wish this hadn’t happened when you were with us.”
“I don’t! If you’d been on your own, you might not have been able to get him out,” Izzy said worriedly.
“No more loose lead along here,” Poppy sighed. “It wouldn’t have been so dangerous if it weren’t for those stupid people who dumped the bike.”
Billy put his paw to the ground, and stared at it anxiously, as though he wasn’t sure it was still working, but when he tried to walk he was hardly limping at all.
