The Dotty Dalmatian

by Anna Wilson

  She had just seen a very large ghostly shape. It had flitted past the lamp posts right ahead of her, but it hadn’t made a sound. Pippa held her breath and listened. But all she could hear was her heart thumping so hard she was sure it was audible to the outside world as well. She put a blue woolly-gloved hand up to her chest and pressed down as if to stop the pounding.

  There it was again! and this time she made out the shape: long, large, with a big head and long legs. It stopped, sat down and scratched itself and seemed to stare in her direction for a moment. Then quick as a flash, it was gone again.

  Pippa let out the breath she had been holding and it hovered in front of her face in a cloud. She picked up her skateboard and tiptoed silently into the road, checking all around her to see if the shape came back.

  ‘It was that dog again,’ she whispered. ‘Gosh it’s big! Bigger than any dog I’ve ever met. Faster too.’

  Now, Pippa Peppercorn was not what you would call a scaredy-cat. (She was certainly not normally frightened of the dark: indeed, she had been known before now to creep out of her house after dark to do some very important spying.) But the combination of this dark winter evening, the fog and the ghostly shape of a large, strange dog seemingly roaming the streets alone would be enough to give anyone the collywobbles if you ask me, and it certainly did that to our Pippa. She thought about turning back to Mrs Fudge’s, but then she remembered that Minx would still be there.

  They’ll just laugh at me, she thought glumly.

  She wondered about knocking on someone’s door and telling them. But they’ll just say I shouldn’t be out on my skateboard in the dark anyway, she reasoned.

  ‘Pippa?’ a voice from behind her made her shoot into the air like a startled quail. (It’s what quails do, you know. Terribly nervy little birds they are, you can take my word for it.)

  ‘Oh!’ she gasped, whirling round.

  ‘Sorry, sweetness!’ said the voice. ‘It only me – Raphael. I was goin’ to drop in on Mrs F. to see how she gettin’ on. You OK, darlin’?’ he asked, stepping forward and peering at Pippa. ‘You shouldn’t be out alone in this nasty weather. Let me take you home.’

  ‘Thank you, Raphael,’ Pippa said, trembling. ‘That would be nice.’

  She took the postie’s hand and held on tight as he pushed off with his rollerblades and pulled her all the way home through the lanes.

  When they arrived at Pippa’s front door she said breathlessly, ‘Raphael, I just saw that spotty dog you’ve been talking about. And Mrs Prim’s seen it too.’

  Raphael looked alarmed. ‘Oh mercy! Did it chase you? I has been keepin’ a bit of a low profile since it ran after me, you know. And I is happy to tell you dat I has not seen it all of today. In fact, today has been de firs’ day I has been able to deliver me letters without anyting happening to me.’

  ‘Is that right?’ Pippa felt bolder now that she was safely outside her own house. ‘Well, that is very interesting.’

  ‘Interesting! It’s an almighty RELIEF is what it is, darlin’! But . . . but if you say you just saw it yoursel’?’ his knees began knocking together. ‘Oh no, Pippa. I is not likin’ the idea o’ dat monster out and about on a dark night like tonight.’ He looked anxiously over his shoulder.

  ‘Raphael, I have a theory about that dog,’ Pippa said cautiously. ‘I think it belongs to Mrs Fudge’s new assistant, but for some reason she is pretending to have nothing to do with it. Maybe it’s because it’s a really dangerous animal. Maybe –’ She lowered her voice. ‘Oh my goodness, Raphael, what if it’s a trained Killer Dog?’

  ‘Pippa! Don’t you go about sayin’ tings like dat! You will frighten de Crumblies half out o’ der wits, girl!’ Raphael shuddered. ‘No, even I tink that your over-active imag-in-a-tion is a-runnin’ away wid you now, sweetness. Let’s change de subject. Tell me what dis new girl is like.’

  ‘Huh. Hardly a change of subject,’ grumbled Pippa. ‘Why don’t you come to Chop ’n’ Chat tomorrow and see for yourself.’

  ‘You can count on me, sweetness,’ said Raphael. ‘It’s my day off tomorrow, so I can stop by for a proper chat. And if I see anyting un-us-ual in the meantime, I’ll keep you posted – cos that’s what I do!’

  ‘Thank you, Raphael,’ said Pippa, reaching up to give him a hug. ‘You’d better go home before you catch cold.’

  Pippa let herself into her house, giving the postie a wave as he rollerbladed away. Raphael is always on my side, she reassured herself. Everything’s going to be all right.

  11

  The Postie Whisperer

  When Raphael arrived the next day, Minx was busy darting between a graceful, satiny saluki (whose silky soft ears needed gentle care and ttention) and a cheeky iniature schnauzer (whose majestic moustache needed trimming). Mrs Fudge meanwhile was dealing with some tricksy human customers. Penelope Smythe wanted hair extensions (much against Mrs Fudge’s better judgement). And a young boy was asking for his hair to be dyed green (such a devil of a colour to wash out if you decide you don’t like it – which his teachers and parents most definitely wouldn’t).

  Muffles was sulking on the countertop, safely out of range.

  As for Pippa, the poor girl was on tea duty again. She had also been set the task of sorting out the laundry and folding every single towel that Mrs Fudge possessed. Which was a lot of towels. She was just thinking of how she could persuade Dash to stop hero-worshipping Minx and actually give her a helping paw instead, when Raphael rollerbladed through to the salon.

  ‘Hello, darlin’s!’ he called above the racket of the chatter and barking and clatter of teacups. ‘More funny tings happenin’ on my way through town this mornin’, my lovelies. Listen to this: Mr Percy called me into his garden. His compost heap was a ruin!’ Dash pricked up his ears at the mention of compost and twitched his nose in the air. ‘Someting got in there in de night – he tinks it musta been badgers. All I sayin’ is, dey musta been giant badgers . . .’

  Raphael was saying. ‘And then on my way here I crossed de park. Oh my, there was a terrible mess! All de bins had been knocked flyin’! I couldn’t just go by and leave all de litter a-lyin’ around like that. Someting not right, y’know – oh!’

  He stopped in his tracks when he saw Minx, who, Pippa noticed, had a funny expression on her face. What was it? Shock? Surprise?

  ‘You must be de new assistant?’ Raphael said. ‘I been hearin’ about you! The whole town’s tongues are a-waggin’, girl!’

  ‘All good, I hope?’ Minx said, with a shaky smile. Then she winked.

  And the minute she winked, something very strange happened to Raphael. His eyes widened, his cheeks darkened. He opened and closed his mouth, but no sound came out. Then his knees seemed to sag and give way under him, and he sank backwards into a twirly-whirly chair (which thankfully was there to break his fall). Finally he let out a loud contented sigh and said softly, ‘Oh, yes. All good. All very good.’

  Pippa watched, first with astonishment, then with disbelief and finally with annoyance.

  ‘Don’t tell me, she’s a postie whisperer too,’ she muttered.

  ‘What was that you were saying about the park, Raphael?’ Mrs Fudge asked.

  But the postman’s attention was firmly fixed on Minx. ‘So, where are you from?’ he asked her, a twinkle in his eye.

  Minx faltered. ‘I – oh. You know, here and there . . .’

  ‘Well, I sure can’t be de only one when I say I is glad you has come here for now!’ chortled Raphael.

  Minx lowered her eyelashes and bit her lip. ‘Yeah, I think I might be hanging about for a bit.’

  Raphael beamed. ‘If you need anyting, let me know. I could show you round, maybe? I knows all de gossip and all de news.’

  ‘I’m sure you do,’ said Minx, smiling coyly. ‘You being the postie and all that.’

  ‘Yeah, man! I’ll keep you posted, darlin’—’

  ‘Oh for goodness sake!’ spluttered Pippa. But she was interrupted by the owner of the sa
luki.

  ‘She’s heaven-sent, this girl is! Absolute gold dust! No one has ever groomed my Sukie so beautifully before.’

  ‘Woof, woof!’ agreed the saluki.

  ‘I must say I could do with another cup of tea,’ Penelope Smythe chattered.

  ‘So are you going to dye my hair, or what?’ butted in the young boy.

  ‘Pippa dear, could you make a fresh pot? And fetch some more towels, there’s a love,’ Mrs Fudge called over the racket.

  ‘Miaaaaoooooow!’ protested Muffles, before sliding off the counter and slinking away from the chaos.

  Pippa exchanged a glance with Dash. As usual he knew what his friend was thinking, so he followed her.

  ‘What do you make of that?’ she asked him when they were safely in the kitchen.

  Dash put his head on one side. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘What I mean is, what do you think about how Raphael reacted to Minx just then?’ Pippa said impatiently.

  Dash did the doggy equivalent of shrugging his shoulders, which was to lower his head slightly and look up at Pippa from under his eyebrows.

  Pippa huffed and said, ‘Didn’t you notice? She only had to look at him and he went all gooey and stupid! He was behaving like an IDIOT!’

  Dash jumped down and nuzzled Pippa’s legs. ‘Now, now. Don’t start that nonsense again,’ he said gently.

  ‘It’s not nonsense!’ Pippa protested. Dash sat back on his haunches, his ears drooping. ‘I just don’t believe that Minx is as wonderfully flipping marvellous as everyone thinks she is,’ Pippa went on. ‘No one is that wonderful all of the time. Even Mrs Fudge has her off days. And did you notice how Minx didn’t answer Raphael when he asked her where she comes from? And what about that idiotic Big Silver Bag? She carries it from room to room like she has the Crown Jewels in it or something. I tried taking it from her this morning to hang it up and she pretty much snatched it back off me. I think we should take a look inside it. She might have something really dangerous in there. A secret weapon, for example!’

  Dash sat staring at Pippa helplessly, his head on one side. ‘What can I say?’ he sighed. ‘I agree it is a little strange that she seems to have turned up out of nowhere . . . but that hardly makes her a criminal. And it definitely doesn’t give us the right to go through her handbag.’

  Pippa crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. ‘Well. I can see where your loyalties lie,’ she said fiercely.

  ‘Hey, is this a party? The best ones always end up in the kitchen!’ Minx joked. She was leaning against the door frame with her arms crossed. She eyed Pippa questioningly and then winked at Dash. ‘How’s my favourite pooch?’ she said. The little dachshund immediately rushed to her side and sat to attention, his tail wagging. Minx crouched down to his height and rubbed her nose against his. Then she straightened up, put her hand in her Big Silver Bag, which was slung over her shoulder as usual, and brought out a biscuit in the shape of a small bone.

  ‘Can you sit up and beg, I wonder?’ said Minx.

  ‘Ha!’ said Pippa. ‘Good luck getting him to do that.’

  But Dash had risen up on his hind legs and was holding his paws in a begging posture, his little red tongue hanging out of the corner of his mouth.

  ‘Well done, Dash!’ said Minx. ‘All the pooches love my homemade treats,’ she added, flicking a triumphant glance at Pippa.

  Just what else have you got inside that bag of yours? thought Pippa. It can’t be only dog treats that you don’t want the rest of us to see . . . I’ll find out, with or without Dash’s help, she told herself decisively, just you wait and see.

  12

  Minx Is Right Again

  Pippa had decided, as part of her new surveillance plan, that she would be as friendly and charming to Minx as she possibly could be.

  ‘That way I can lull her into a false sense of security,’ she told Dash when she arrived after school the next day. ‘Then she might confide in me or let something slip. You just watch me,’ she added. ‘I’m going to be as nice as pumpkin pie today.’

  Dash merely nodded and wagged his tail slowly. He was secretly convinced that Pippa was making up silly theories now just because she didn’t like Minx.

  Pippa meanwhile was true to her word, and even managed not to pass any comment on Minx’s hair, which was scarlet red that day.

  ‘We have a new client this afternoon, dears,’ Mrs Fudge announced, when Pippa came into the salon. ‘It’s Mrs Peach’s collie, Bella.’

  ‘Mrs Peach is nice,’ Pippa told Minx. ‘She always gives good tips too.’

  ‘Cool – but I thought you said she was a new client?’ said Minx.

  Mrs Fudge smiled. ‘Mrs Peach herself has been having her hair done here for years, but this is Bella’s first visit to the pooch-pampering parlour.’

  Pippa nodded. ‘I love Bella. She’s a bit of a loony though – runs around town like a mad March hare! Talking of which,’ she said, watching Minx carefully, ‘I forgot to say. The weirdest thing happened to me on the way home the other night. It was really foggy, right, so I couldn’t see that clearly, but I was sure I saw a huge dog racing around at the end of Liquorice Drive. It totally freaked me out! If Raphael hadn’t—’

  ‘What were you saying, Mrs Fudge?’ Minx said loudly, cutting Pippa off. ‘About Bella?’ she prompted. ‘If she’s the sort of dog that can’t sit still, she might not like being pampered.’

  ‘Er, excuse me!’ Pippa protested, ‘I was talking about the strange dog just then and you—’

  ‘That’s very interesting, Minx dear,’ said Mrs Fudge, giving Pippa one of her warning looks. ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘Dogs can be nervy in new surroundings,’ Minx explained. ‘It depends on the breed, of course. Still, best to be prepared.’

  Dash nodded, put his head on one side and said, ‘She’s right, you know, Pippa. Not all dogs are as easy to please as yours truly.’

  Pippa rolled her eyes. ‘Yes, we all know you’re marvellous, Dash,’ she said affectionately.

  Minx laughed. ‘He knows how to turn on the charm, doesn’t he?’

  Mrs Fudge smiled. ‘Absolutely,’ she agreed, bending down to ruffle Dash’s fur. ‘Let’s hope Mrs Peach’s dog is even half as lovely.’

  The doorbell sounded and Mrs Fudge called for ‘all hands on deck!’

  ‘I’ll do Mrs Peach’s hair,’ she said. ‘It’s just her usual wash and blow-dry. Can you two manage Bella between you?’

  Pippa and Minx nodded.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Yup.’

  Dash nuzzled Pippa’s leg. ‘If you need any translation help, let me know.’

  Minx was chewing a fingernail. ‘There’s something bothering about this collie,’ she said.

  ‘But you haven’t even met her yet!’ Pippa protested, opening the door.

  ‘It’s what you said about the dog running around like a—’

  Minx didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence, as the minute Pippa opened the door a blurry black-and-white figure leaped at both girls, knocking Minx flying. Then it streaked down the hall, barking wildly.

  ‘Oh!’ Minx exclaimed, picking herself up.

  Pippa noted this reaction with some satisfaction. Not marvellous with every kind of dog then, she thought.

  A very out-of-puff Mrs Peach stood on the threshold to Mrs Fudge’s house, her face etched with anxiety. ‘I – I’m s-so terribly sorry,’ she stammered between wheezy gasps for breath. Her hands fluttered at her throat. ‘I think Bella’s a – a little overexcited. She gets like this sometimes around new people and places.’

  ‘No problem,’ said Minx. ‘I’ll catch her.’

  Pippa took Mrs Peach’s hat and coat while Minx shot off towards the salon to catch the naughty dog. Mrs Fudge and Dash followed.

  ‘Mrs Peach,’ said Pippa thoughtfully, ‘has Bella been out at night recently?’

  Mrs Peach frowned. ‘No, of course not. What a funny question.’

  ‘And she hasn’t been runnin
g around the park without you? Knocking over bins or getting into mischief?’

  ‘Absolutely not!’ cried Mrs Peach indignantly. ‘As if I would allow my dog to do such things.’

  ‘Mrs Peach, dear!’ Mrs Fudge appeared in doorway of the salon, looking flustered. ‘Can you come? Bella is, er, being rather exuberant!’

  Pippa and Mrs Peach scurried along to see Bella running round in ever decreasing circles, forcing a very angry Muffles, Minx, Dash and now Mrs Fudge into a huddle in the middle of the room.

  Dash was barking, ‘Get this lunatic out of here!’

  Muffles’s hackles were raised so high she looked more like a chimney sweep’s brush than a cat, and Mrs Fudge was waving her hands at Bella, crying, ‘Sit! Heel! Calm down!’

  Minx on the other hand was standing stock-still, staring at Bella with a fearsome look on her face. In fact, it almost looked as if she was snarling, Pippa thought. Much good that will do, she said to herself, and climbing up on to a chair she clapped her hands and yelled, ‘SHUT UP!’

  Unfortunately, the second she did this the noise went up a notch and Minx fixed her with the fearsome look, shaking her head and mouthing ‘No’ very clearly.

  Mrs Peach grasped Pippa’s arm. ‘Bella doesn’t like loud noises, dear.’

  Pippa was beside herself. Here was the owner of a dog who was making a very loud noise telling her to be quiet and not make loud noises! It did not make one bit of sense to her. And if that wasn’t bad enough, Minx was telling her off too.

  Who does she think she is? Pippa thought, all her earlier promises to herself forgotten in the heat of the moment. Thinks she can tell me what to do, does she? Well, I’ll show her . . .