The Labrador Pact

by Matt Haig

  He paused, sniffed my ear. ‘I’ll tell you my theory: human Families are destined to fail. They want too much. They talk too much. They are built on lies which may or may not be dug up, but either way, they fail. Well, why shouldn’t we lie too? Why shouldn’t we just pretend that nothing matters? Why . . .’

  This was not the dog who, only a short while ago, had been chasing squirrels. He was trembling, and speaking fast. I had the impression that he was letting go, releasing things which, all these years living with Simon, he had somehow managed to keep buried. He was hyper-ventilating, his breath even shorter and wheezier than usual.

  I didn’t care. He had let me down. The Family was on the brink of destruction. And he was wrong. It wasn’t their fault, it was his. Did he really believe that humans were masters over their own destinies? Did he not see and smell what I saw and smelt? If dogs stuck together the whole human species would be OK, even the dogless. And if the humans were OK, we were all OK. Did he not see that? Did he not see the connections between everything? If one Family was in danger, they all were. So yes, I was furious with him. Him, and everything he believed in. Or rather, didn’t believe in. But I didn’t let my anger get the better of me.

  The Family could still be saved.

  ‘When?’

  ‘When what?’ he wheezed.

  ‘When is Simon going to tell Adam about Charlotte?’

  Falstaff was still struggling. For air, mostly. But also with himself, with his Springer-side. Caught between the Falstaff who buries his head in the smell-heap and the one who tells the truth, he didn’t know what to do. I remembered what he had once told me. ‘The whole dog kingdom is in my blood.’ And it was as if the whole dog kingdom was now engaged in some kind of micro-war within his fat old sweat-glossed body.

  ‘I don’t know, madwag. I really don’t.’

  I knew this was a lie, so I played my final card. ‘Charlotte lets me lie on her bed with her for hours. She is the only one who lets me do that. She tells me things. She is the only one who understands. She doesn’t know about the Pact or the details of my mission, but she knows why I am here. And when things are going wrong, she looks at me and I know what she is thinking. She is thinking: why aren’t I helping, why am I letting it happen?’ I could see he was teetering, so I pressed further. ‘And I know that if you were there with me, you would help me to stop the questions.’

  Falstaff, still wheezing fast, squinted in torment. He looked as though he had a thorn in his paw.

  ‘OK, OK, OK,’ he surrendered. ‘You’ve got me. Damn Labrador blood, it weakens your willpower. He said . . . he said something about telling him the next time he saw him. He said he couldn’t wait to see his face. And then . . . and then he said something strange.’

  ‘Strange how?’

  ‘He said he would probably lose his grip, fall off. I didn’t understand what he meant.’

  My whole body went numb. Lose his grip. ‘Abseiling, he’s going to tell him when they are halfway down a cliff.’

  Falstaff moved forward and sniffed me, to smell how I was feeling. He backed away, worried. ‘What are you going to do?’

  I was already trotting back towards Adam when I responded: ‘I am going to protect the Family.’

  ‘But what does that mean?’

  I trotted on, thinking of Charlotte lying on the bathroom floor, and left Falstaff’s question hanging unanswered in the air.

  adventure

  Two days later and Simon, the enemy, was stroking my head as he sat in the Family’s living room. It took every measure of Labradorean discipline I had within me not to turn and snap at his hand.

  Adam was there, obviously. And Kate. Hal and Charlotte had gone into town, as they did most Saturday mornings. Grandma Margaret wasn’t there either, although her thousand smells still permeated the room.

  ‘What do I need?’ asked Adam, trying hard to conceal his anxiety.

  ‘Only your good self,’ said Simon. He stared at Kate’s breasts as he spoke. ‘I’ve got all the equipment in the car. Oh, and if you’ve got a pair of walking boots.’

  ‘Walking boots, right.’ Adam yawned, as he tended to do when he was nervous, then headed upstairs.

  Kate and Simon were left alone. Simon smiled, no longer looking at Kate’s breasts but still stroking my head.

  ‘How do you think he’ll take it? he asked her.

  ‘Take what?’ Kate whispered, at once fearful and angry.

  ‘The news. About us.’

  ‘There’s no us, Simon, you know that.’ And from the way she said it, and the way Simon responded, I knew this was the truth. At least, this was her truth.

  ‘Even so, there’s still news.’

  ‘Listen, please, I’ve told you all week: it’s not a good time. If you care about Charlotte, if you care at all about me, you will wait.’

  The upstairs phone rang. ‘I’ll get it,’ called Adam from the top of the stairs. Simon waited to check that it wasn’t for Kate, his hand resting motionless on the back of my neck. It wasn’t, so he carried on talking.

  ‘Look, Kate. You can’t walk away from this.’

  ‘I can and you did. And why are you talking like that? This is real life, Simon. This isn’t a game . . .’ But then she trailed off, perhaps realising she was talking like that too. I suppose that’s the problem for humans, everything has been said too many times. Every situation is an echo of one which went before. Even the big situations, such as this one. The outcomes have already been mapped out. And that’s the advantage of dogs, we know when to shut up. We know when to take control.

  ‘You’re tired, Kate. You’re tired of all this . . .’ He made a critical survey of the room. ‘This isn’t you. Don’t kid yourself any longer.’

  She looked at him and, for an instant, her face weakened. ‘I am proud of my life, and my family. I have worked hard for all this and I’m not going to have you take it away.’

  Adam’s voice could be heard upstairs, on the phone, but his words were not clear. Simon looked up to the ceiling, to the exact spot where Adam must have been standing only a short space above, and then back down to Kate.

  ‘I love you,’ he said, with deliberate menace.

  ‘Well, leave us alone, then. Because that’s what love is, it’s being able to walk away.’

  Tension stifled the air. Simon was loving every moment, thriving on the danger, as if he was already stepping over the cliff-edge.

  ‘Not true, Kate. Not true. The opposite, in fact. Love is not being able to walk away. Love is about letting nothing stop you.’ Despite his words, love was nowhere to be smelt. Only greed. And fear.

  ‘We made a mistake. Both of us. It was one night, years ago. We were drunk. We did what we did and it was over.’

  ‘But that’s the thing, Kate. It’s not over, is it? Charlotte’s not over, is she? And my feelings for you, they’re not over. And you’re still as unhappy now as you were the night Adam decided to still go and see that stupid play he pretended to like, with the school drama club or whatever it was - how long was it? - two hours after you’d just found out you’d lost your job. I mean, no wonder you phoned me.’ He sat back. ‘You see, I’ve got the feeling Adam hasn’t changed any more than you have. Tell me, what’s changed? Go on.’

  ‘Simon, please. Why are you doing this?’

  ‘We could have a nice life together, Kate. It would be an adventure. It would be exciting. And whatever you are thinking, I would be a good father to Charlotte.’

  ‘And what about Hal?’

  ‘Ah, so you’re coming round to the idea.’

  ‘I am not coming round.’ Kate stopped. She was close to tears. Simon was still stroking my head. But harder now, causing the skin above my eyes to pull right back. I moved away, towards Kate. She spoke again. I didn’t catch the first bit, my mind was swirling. I only caught the end:

  ‘. . . you don’t know what it takes to raise a family and to keep it safe.’

  ‘I know what it takes to make you happy. T
hat gives me one over Adam.’

  Kate flinched from his words and let a silence build up. The silence was definitely on Simon’s side, as they both seemed to realise. Every object in the room grew pale and lost its scent.

  For a moment, which stretched to forever, it was all over.

  Simon had won.

  There was absolutely nothing I could do to stop the sickly-sweet smell of victory. Kate, normally so together, so in control, who understands the secret laws of the Family better than any human I know, who likes to tidy away anything she doesn’t like the look of, was now completely deprived of her power. As was I.

  Eventually, and with closed eyes, she said: ‘All you have done is make me realise just how much my family means to me.’

  Upstairs, Adam’s voice stopped. The phone call was over.

  Simon smiled. ‘Oh yes, your family.’

  Simon and Kate both looked up now to follow the path of Adam’s feet as they trod their way across the ceiling.

  ‘Please, Simon,’ said Kate, in a voice which at once seemed both quieter and louder than before. ‘We’re responsible adults, not love-struck teenagers acting out some soap opera. Just, look, I’m sorry, but please, I don’t know, just hold off a while. Please. I’ll talk to Adam, I will really, but let me do it. It won’t do you any good if you tell him - you’ll only end up losing both of us.’

  Simon leaned back on the settee, his hands behind his head, and studied Kate. As the footsteps started to be heard at the top of the stairs, he spoke again. ‘You really are a beautiful woman, Kate. The most beautiful, in my opinion. But then, you always were.’

  Kate stared straight into Simon’s eyes, desperately searching for something which wasn’t there. I doubt that she had ever looked so pathetic and in need of help in her whole life. I went over and licked her hand - a futile, but instinctive gesture.

  The door opened to reveal Adam. Crumpled. A baggy bloodhound. From his frowning forehead to his one-size-too-big outdoor clothes, that is how he looked. As if the air was hissing out of him.

  He surveyed the scene: Simon, uncrumpled, leaning back; Kate, on the chair opposite him, leaning forward. Somewhere deep, deep inside he seemed able to sense that something was wrong. But this feeling was clearly too well buried for him to act upon it.

  ‘OK, I’m ready,’ he told us.

  Kate, her head turned away from Adam, made one last desperate attempt with Simon. ‘Please,’ she mouthed. ‘Don’t.’

  Simon winked in response, stood up, and said to Adam: ‘So I see. So I see.’

  For a terrible second it looked as though I would be forgotten. It looked as though Adam would leave unprotected. I got up and trotted over to him, nudging his knees with my nose.

  ‘OK, Prince, OK. I’ll just get your lead.’

  Kate was still sitting in the living room, staring at the space Simon had previously occupied on the settee. It was as if she was trying to conjure up some unworldly power in order to keep things as they were, to freeze time. But as Adam clipped on my lead she realised it was no good. Nothing she could do or say could prevent Adam and Simon from walking out of the door. Or if there was something, she couldn’t think of it. Adam’s voice broke her train of thought.

  ‘It was Charlotte on the phone. She said she’ll be back about three.’

  Kate smiled, but in a way which made her face look even sadder. ‘OK, darling, be careful.’ Her voice was dull, like the words spoken in her sleep, but she was telling Adam far more than he could realise.

  ‘Yes, I will.’

  ‘I love you.’

  ‘I love you too.’

  Simon slapped Adam’s back. ‘OK, come on, Ads-old-boy, let’s see what you are made of.’

  I was still standing in the living-room doorway, watching Kate. Adam gently tugged my lead.

  ‘Come on, boy.’

  But I stayed there as long as I could, trying my best to reassure her. I will protect you, Kate. I will make everything all right. The Family will be safe.

  She stared back, and although I cannot be absolutely sure, her face seemed to relax. She seemed to smell relieved. She seemed, just for a moment, to understand what I was now capable of.

  The Labrador Pact: Never betray your master’s trust

  While every effort must be taken in order to ensure our mission to protect human Families remains secret, we must never deliberately disobey our masters.

  If we are instructed to sit and stay, we must sit and stay. If we are tied by our leads to a post, we must wait obediently until our master returns. If food falls onto the floor and we are forbidden from touching it, then we must obey.

  After all, to lose the trust and respect of our masters is to weaken the chances of our success in protecting the Family.

  rock

  Simon was walking in front of us, eager to get to the top. Adam was taking his time, snatching an occasional queasy glance at the great platform of white rock rising up to our right.

  ‘Fantastic, isn’t it?’ asked Simon, although even I could sense it was more of a statement of fact than a question.

  ‘Er . . . yes . . . yes, it is,’ said Adam, who was clearly doing his best not to throw up. ‘But, um, the only thing is, isn’t it a bit too . . . er, windy?’

  ‘Well, he doesn’t seem to think so.’ Simon gestured towards a lone climber clawing his way up the rock.

  ‘No . . . no . . . I suppose he doesn’t.’

  Simon turned. ‘You’re not bottling it, are you?’

  Adam’s mouth hardened, while the rest of his face remained pale. ‘No, not at all. ’Course not. Looking forward to it.’ In fact, if it hadn’t been for me tugging the lead forward I doubt he would have made it to the top.

  And as we walked, I too became nauseous. Their conversation became noise, and mingled with the sound of water from the stream below.

  ‘It’s weird, isn’t it,’ babbled Adam once we reached the summit. ‘You feel like you’re taking part in a lunar landing or something, don’t you? It’s like walking on the moon.’

  ‘It always reminds me of a brain.’

  ‘Yes, I know what you mean. How amazing. Weird.’

  I found it weird too. At first I couldn’t quite identify why, and then it dawned on me. There was no scent whatsoever in the air. For the first time in my life I was unable to smell anything at all, at least when I was more than a few steps away from Adam and Simon. Although there was green countryside all around, up there on that dry, grey rock it felt about as far away from life as you could get.

  While Simon took the rucksack off his back and started taking out the equipment, Adam looked for somewhere to tie my lead. There was a signpost at the far end of the plateau, with a picture of falling rock.

  ‘OK. There you are. You’ll be OK, don’t worry.’

  Was he talking to me, or himself? It was hard to tell, but, feeling his need for comfort, I licked his face as he crouched down. It didn’t help.

  The weird thing was that Adam really did have a reason to fear, but not the one he thought he had. And if Simon was to tell him the truth about Charlotte, there would be no safety rope to stop the Family falling to its inevitable demise.

  There would only be me.

  ‘You stay there, boy. You be a good dog.’ And as I had never betrayed his trust, he had no doubt that I would do exactly as he said.

  ‘OK,’ Simon called over. ‘Let’s go through the basics.’

  Adam left me tied up and walked back towards him.

  Simon started to speak about ropes and clips and anchors, and as he did so I realised he was in fact talking about something else entirely. This was about power. This was about Adam needing Simon. Indeed, at that moment, his whole life depended on him.

  And as I sat and watched them, listening to every word, I wondered when Simon was going to do it. When he was planning to destroy the Family I had sought most of my life to protect. It seemed to me that it would be some considerable time. After all, he was clearly having fun with the present
situation. He loved the game he was playing with Adam because he was destined to win. Adam was not only unaware of the rules, but completely blind to the fact that a game was being played at all.

  Where was the end? Did Simon imagine a new Family, with Kate, with Charlotte, but without Adam and Hal? Could that happen? Did he want to split the Family in two or blow it to bits? I didn’t know.

  All I knew was that both possibilities were equally appalling. And, I now understood, equally preventable.

  Simon clipped on his rope as casually as he would put a lead on a dog. Adam, however, took slightly longer owing to his hands’ inability to stay still.

  More talking.

  More fear.

  I sat still, patient. Like a good dog.

  Adam looked over to me as if I could somehow intervene. He looked terrified, he really did, as he tugged back on the rope.

  ‘That could hold an elephant,’ assured Simon, with a chuckle, treading slowly back towards the edge.

  ‘Well, just so long as it holds me.’

  existence

  Adam and Simon had now disappeared, their existence only indicated by the ropes straining over the edge.

  As I waited for them, high up on that scentless rock, I had the strangest feeling. I felt, and I know this sounds crazy, I felt as though everything was within my control. I had power not only over the future of the Family, but over anything I chose.

  This, I was quite aware, was not a feeling common to Labradors. Yes, the Labrador Pact talks about power, about control, but at the same time it places limits. Never risk the secrecy of the mission. Never resort to violence. Never betray your master’s trust.