by Holly Webb
Polly blinked blearily at William. He’d said he’d learned to swim, she remembered now. “Ghosts … can … swim?” she coughed out.
“Shut up and come on,” he snapped back, tucking his arm under her chin. Rex had let go of her swimming costume and he and Magnus were treading water on either side of her and William. Polly wriggled trying to turn on to her front. It was horrible, stuck on her back like that, but Magnus growled in her ear and even Rex snapped, “Keep still!” So she did, staring up at the sky as William towed her back to the beach.
They’d come and got her.
“How did you even know I was here?” Polly gabbled in between frantic teeth-chattering. She was wrapped in her towel, and William and the dogs were sitting facing her, all of them glaring. They didn’t seem to be nearly as cold as she was but she supposed that was an advantage of not being real.
“I saw you. You walked across the lawn in front of me, didn’t you? You went through the woods to the cliff path,” Rex growled. He seemed far angrier than William and Magnus – almost as though he couldn’t look at her. “I thought you’d come back up when it started raining but there was no sign of you. And then…” He slumped down, his front paws scooting out in front of him.
“What?” Polly asked.
“It was like before,” he muttered. “When you first woke me. I could feel you calling. I told you – it was my job to guard the children. Of course I heard you call.”
“But I didn’t.” Polly shook her head. “I knew there wasn’t anyone there.”
“I was there,” he said. “But you don’t care about that.”
“I never meant it! I just wanted to say something mean – not even to you, to Mum – because I was upset.” Polly fought with the folds of damp towel, flinging them off so she could hug him. “You’re the best friend I’ve had in ages,” she whispered in his soggy ear. “Ever, I think. No, I’m sure.”
Rex snorted, embarrassed, but he didn’t pull away.
“Ahhh…” William rolled his eyes and Polly glared at him. “Hey! I saved you, too! You’re not good at being grateful, are you?”
Polly ducked her head. “Thank you. And … I’m really sorry. About the photographs. I forgot they’d be there. I was trying to be friendly, showing you the flat. I didn’t mean for you to see them, I promise. I wouldn’t do that.” She looked up at him anxiously, hating that he might think she’d done it deliberately.
He shrugged and Magnus moved closer, leaning in so that he was almost holding William up. His dark eyes stared suspiciously into Polly’s.
“I promise I didn’t,” she said again, and the grey dog rested his muzzle on the boy’s shoulder and said nothing.
“I know,” William muttered. “I’d just … forgotten. On purpose, I suppose.”
Polly nodded. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t even know if he wanted to talk about it. One day, perhaps.
They sat there in silence for a few moments, then she whispered, “I should go. I … I have to, I’m sorry. It’s my mum. I was so angry, I shouted at her. I can’t do that, you see. She misses my dad so much, it’s not fair … me being angry.”
“Not fair on you, either,” William said slowly.
“No, but…” Polly shrugged. It was hard to talk about people being gone with a ghost.
“Perhaps she needed to know what you told her,” Rex said suddenly. “I shouldn’t be the only one looking after you, should I?”
Polly clenched her nails into her palms, suddenly feeling as though she had to defend her mum. “It’s been horrible for her,” she said. “And I don’t want her looking after me too much, anyway. Just a little bit.” Her voice wobbled. “Oh, I have to go!”
Polly pushed open the door of the flat, and peered round it, wondering where Mum was and how much trouble she was in. She’d only been gone a couple of hours but Mum had told her to go to bed and she’d yelled and flounced off instead. At least her hair had dried a bit – it looked like she’d just got wet in the rain. Mum wouldn’t know she’d been in the sea.
“Polly!” Her mum jumped up from the living-room table. “Oh, I’m sorry! I went out looking for you, all round the gardens. I didn’t know where you were.”
Polly stared at her in surprise. She’d been expecting her mum to sound cross. “I went to the beach…”
“I should have seen that you were upset about something. I haven’t really been spending much time with you, have I?” Her voice sank a little as she said it and Polly dropped her bag and ran to give her a hug. “There’s been so much going on – it was a chance not to think about everything, do you see? A new place…”
“It’s OK, Mum, don’t worry about it. And I’m sorry I went off like that. I’m all right now.” She let out a small sigh, wishing she could explain what had really been happening – about Rex and William and Magnus, and how she felt like she had friends for the first time in months.
The table was covered in photographs and letters again, and Polly smiled at William and Magnus staring up at her.
“Have you found out anything more about him, Mum?” she asked, picking up the photo. It had writing on the back, she realized. William’s eleventh birthday, 4th May, 1910.
“I was reading the letter his commanding officer sent to his parents – it’s so terribly sad. He died at the Battle of the Somme in July 1916 – there were thousands of men killed there on the very first day. What is it?”
Polly was staring at the date on the back of the photo. “He can’t have,” she murmured.
“I’ve got the letter – you can read it, if you’re very careful.”
“But look, he wasn’t old enough! Not if he was eleven in 1910. He’d only have been sixteen! That can’t be right, they didn’t send sixteen-year-olds to fight, did they?” Polly looked at her mum, horrified.
“No… You had to be eighteen to join up and nineteen to be posted overseas. That poor boy.”
Mum took the photograph, looking down at William’s solemn face. “You’re right! He must have pretended that he was older. A lot of boys did. They wanted to fight, you see. They were desperate to protect their country and their families.”
Polly nodded. “Maybe he wanted to protect Penhallow…”
“Probably,” her mum agreed, looking down at the photo of the three boys in uniform. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he and Bertie and Harry were at school together and decided they’d all join up.”
“Can I have a copy of this one?” Polly asked suddenly. “William and his dog?”
“I suppose so…” Her mum gave her a confused look and Polly felt she had to explain.
“He’s only a little bit older than me. It’s interesting – thinking about him living here. Those are the steps down from the terrace. I’ve sat on those steps… I’d like to put it up on my wall.” I just wish I could have a photo of Rex, too, Polly thought. I suppose I could cut out the coat of arms from one of the leaflets – or I could take a picture of his statue. But it wasn’t quite the same.
“Did you meet a dog down on the beach?” her mum asked, smiling.
“What?” Polly swallowed hard, wondering how her mum knew – what she knew, exactly. “You’re covered in hairs! Look.” Her mum reached out and took a tawny-golden hair from Polly’s vest top.
“Yes.” Polly smiled. “A beautiful wolfhound.” She hadn’t even noticed the hairs. She started to pick them off, gathering them into a little pile in her hand. She’d tease Rex when she saw him tomorrow. She’d tell him he needed grooming.
Tomorrow! Polly rested her head on her mum’s shoulder. There would be so many tomorrows, with Rex and William and even Magnus. And perhaps there would be other dogs, too…
STRIPES PUBLISHING
An imprint of Little Tiger Press
1 Coda Studios, 189 Munster Road,
London SW6 6AW
First published as an ebook by Stripes Publishing in 2017.
Text copyright © Holly Webb, 2017
Illustrations copyright © Jas
on Cockcroft, 2017
eISBN: 978-1-84715-848-2
The right of Holly Webb and Jason Cockcroft to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work respectively has been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved.
Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any forms, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publishers or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
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