Claude's Christmas Adventure

by Sophie Pembroke

  ‘Holly, is it?’ Kathleen asked, with a knowing smile. ‘She seems like a sweet girl, not that we’ve talked much.’

  ‘Claude broke into her house earlier, too,’ Jack explained. ‘Through the cat flap.’

  Kathleen laughed. ‘I’d like to have seen that!’

  ‘He basically did a belly flop,’ Jack said, smiling at the memory. Then he rubbed Claude’s back to try and wake him. ‘Come on, Claude. Time to get up.’

  Sleepily, Claude opened one eye, and stared at Jack. With a bit of prodding, he jumped down to the floor and Jack reattached the lead. They might only be walking next door, but Jack wasn’t taking any chances.

  ‘Are you sure you can’t stay a little longer?’ Kathleen’s eyes were sad as she reached out to grab Jack’s hand. ‘I get so few actual visitors these days … and I’ve so enjoyed our chat.’

  ‘So have I,’ Jack assured her, feeling a little guilty about leaving. She looked so lonely … ‘But I’m afraid I really do have to go. Maybe I could come back, though? Another day?’

  Kathleen’s face brightened, and she squeezed his hand before letting go. ‘I’d like that a lot.’

  ‘Then it’s a plan.’ Jack tugged Claude away from where he was optimistically sniffing around at the bottom of the counter where Kathleen’s hamper sat. ‘Come on, boy. Time to go and see Holly.’

  Claude trotted obediently back towards the front door at the sound of Holly’s name, and Jack followed. He was starting to think that Claude understood a lot more than Jack had given him credit for.

  ‘Thanks again for the tea and mince pies,’ Jack said, stepping outside. Beside him, Claude shivered in the cold. ‘And Claude’s gingerbread. I hope you have a lovely Christmas, if I don’t make it back before then.’

  ‘And I hope you find everything that you’re looking for,’ Kathleen told him, pressing a last piece of gingerbread into his hand. Claude barked his approval at that.

  ‘So do I,’ Jack admitted. But he knew a pretty good place to start – with a visit to Holly. ‘Merry Christmas,’ he called, before heading next door, whistling ‘Jingle Bells’ as he walked, Claude trotting alongside him, waiting for his gingerbread.

  Sleepily, I kept pace with Jack, as his long legs covered the short distance between Kathleen’s and Holly’s houses in big strides. Glancing across the road, I saw that there was still no car in the driveway of my home, and no lights on either. Still no McCawleys.

  I sighed. It was a shame, really. I could quite happily have stayed napping at Kathleen’s house until Daisy and Oliver found their way home for me – especially if she kept feeding me such delicious gingerbread. But Jack obviously had his own reasons for wanting to go back to Holly’s house. I had my suspicions about what they were, too.

  Obviously, humans weren’t all that different from us animals. We both wanted to find our people, our pack. To belong, to have somewhere to call home – whether that was a whole house or a basket with a blanket. For me, my people were very clear in my mind, I knew exactly where I belonged – even if they seemed to have forgotten.

  But Jack didn’t seem to know where his home was at all, or which people he belonged to.

  Maybe he could belong to Holly, or to Kathleen. Kathleen had the advantage of no Perdita and gingerbread, but Holly … Jack had seemed very happy when we were there earlier.

  I resolved to watch more closely this time, to see how he acted around her. Whether she might be home for Jack – and if so, how I could help him realise it. Sometimes people needed a little push, I’d found – like a cold nose in the ear when Oliver slept in past my breakfast time, or a bit of nuzzling to persuade Jay to put down his tablet and pet me.

  I liked Jack. I liked the idea of him finding home, and finding it somewhere that meant he was on hand to rub between my ears whenever I needed it.

  After all, the McCawleys had left me behind. It was only natural that I’d have to find some new people to help fill the gulf that stretched between us now. At least until they came back.

  Jack knocked on Holly’s door, and I sat patiently beside him on the mat, sparkly lead attached. There was no need to escape this time; I felt certain that Holly would let me in. She’d seemed quite taken with me that morning, and she’d given me some of Perdita’s food.

  It had been okay, I supposed. But maybe she’d been shopping for actual dog food while Jack and I were off working.

  Yes, that seemed about right. Really, I’d fallen on my paws. Abandoned, left behind in the freezing winter, and I’d managed to find three people who wanted to feed and look after me.

  It was all down to natural charm.

  Holly opened the door, a bright smile on her face, and then looked down at me. ‘No luck finding the McCawleys then?’

  ‘Afraid not,’ Jack said, reaching down to pat my back. It wasn’t as good as a rub between the ears, but it was comforting. ‘You took your icicles down?’

  Icicles? I sat back and looked up at the house. It did seem darker, I supposed.

  Holly’s cheeks were red. ‘Don’t worry. They’re going back up tomorrow. And then some.’

  ‘So you took them down because …?’

  ‘I had a run-in with Mrs Templeton,’ Holly explained. I butted up against her leg in sympathy.

  I’d had run-ins with Mrs Templeton before. I wouldn’t even wish them on Perdita.

  ‘You’d better come in,’ Holly said, standing aside to let Jack and me past. ‘Before she comes out to complain about loitering postmen too. Although heaven knows what she’ll think we’re up to in here.’

  Jack laughed. ‘I’m sure she doesn’t care what you do in the privacy of your own home. She just has a bit of a thing about the appearance of the street, I think.’

  Holly and I both gave him sceptical looks. ‘I bet she’s watching,’ Holly said. ‘Right now.’

  We all peered out into the darkness, towards the drawn curtains of number 13 Maple Drive. As we watched, one of the curtains on the ground floor suddenly twitched and lay flat again.

  ‘See!’ Holly crowed, triumphantly. ‘She is the original curtain-twitching neighbour! Quick, get inside before we give her anything more to talk about.’

  Jack laughed. ‘You seem very jolly for someone who is being spied on by her next door neighbour.’

  ‘I had to test the mulled wine.’ Holly headed into the kitchen. Jack dropped my lead as soon as the front door closed, so I trotted after her, hoping there might be some more gingerbread in my future. Or at least some cat food. ‘Would you like some?’ she called back over her shoulder.

  ‘That would be great, thanks,’ Jack said. ‘I am officially off duty now until the day after Boxing Day, so I feel like I should celebrate.’

  ‘You absolutely should.’ She handed him a glass full of dark red liquid. I sat at her feet and looked up hopefully. She sighed as she spotted me. ‘I suppose you’re hungry again, aren’t you? Well, you won’t like mulled wine, Claude, I can tell you that much.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be so sure. He’s a huge fan of gingerbread – not that I recommend giving him any more,’ Jack said. ‘He just ate three gingerbread men next door. He’s probably going to be sick later.’

  Clearly, these humans did not understand the power of my stomach. I widened my eyes, and gave a small whimper to encourage Holly to give up the goods.

  ‘No more gingerbread,’ she said, firmly. ‘I haven’t even got around to decorating my gingerbread house yet. But you can have some more of Perdita’s food, if you’re really hungry.’

  I followed her to the cupboard with Perdita’s things in, past a table holding a whole miniature house made of gingerbread. Maybe, if I was really nice to Holly, she’d let me have some, eventually. But in the meantime, cat food it was. It wasn’t ideal, but at least it had an added advantage of annoying my nemesis. That counted for a lot.

  ‘What about you?’ I heard her ask Jack, as I tucked into the cat food. ‘Are you full of gingerbread, too?’

  ‘A bit,’ Jack admitted. �
��But actually, our visit next door gave me an idea. Something I’d like to talk to you about.’

  ‘Really? That sounds interesting,’ Holly said.

  I zoned out and focused on the bowl in front of me. I figured if they were talking about food I could always start listening in again. In the meantime, I had more important things to think about.

  Like how to get to that gingerbread house. And how to convince Jack to stay in Maple Drive.

  ‘Okay. Everyone stand back.’ Daisy lifted the umbrella over her head and prepared to smash the lock of the vanity case.

  This had officially gone on long enough. Not only were they down one dog, they’d been lost in the wilds of northern France for the past hour and a half without even a phone to call for help. It was already the worst Christmas on record, and they hadn’t even made it to Christmas Eve yet.

  It was time to take serious action.

  ‘Wait!’ Oliver cried, but she ignored him, slamming the handle of the umbrella against the tiny metal lock.

  Nothing happened.

  ‘Yeah, I could have told you that wasn’t going to work,’ Oliver said, and Daisy felt the anger and frustration rising through her body at his words.

  ‘That’s so incredibly helpful,’ she ground out, between her clenched teeth. ‘And I suppose you have the answers to all our problems, right? I suppose you can get us back home through some sort of teleportation device, saving Claude from being alone on Christmas Eve, and us from having to spend Christmas in my parents’ crumbling chateau?’ Jay wailed in the back seat at the reminder of Claude, and Daisy’s jaw tightened painfully at the noise.

  Why was everything she planned always such a disaster?

  ‘I just wanted to say that there has to be a better way to get into that case,’ Oliver snapped back. ‘And if you hadn’t locked my phone in there in the first place—’

  ‘Because of course this is all my fault,’ Daisy interrupted, even though she had a sneaking suspicion it might be.

  ‘If you hadn’t locked the phones in there at least we’d have the sat nav and we wouldn’t be lost in the middle of sodding France!’ Oliver finished.

  ‘Language!’ Daisy yelled, as the twins began to cry again.

  ‘Oh for God’s sake.’ Bella clambered forward, between the twins’ car seats and grabbed the vanity case. ‘Let me have a go.’ She pulled a hair grip from her messy bun and jammed it into the lock, twisting it round a few times until the lid popped open.

  Daisy and Oliver stared.

  ‘Do I want to know where you learned how to do that?’ Daisy asked, pretty sure she didn’t.

  Bella shrugged. ‘YouTube.’

  ‘Right.’

  Grabbing her phone from the pile, and tossing Jay his tablet, Bella clambered back. ‘Okay, we’ve got a message on the Find Claude page.’

  Daisy’s heart jumped. Had someone found him? Was he safe and warm inside somewhere cosy and welcoming? ‘And?’

  ‘Hang on …’ Bella’s fingers swiped across the screen as she accessed the message. ‘Okay, it’s from the same girl – Jessica, at number 3. She’s back from shopping and watching out, but no sign of Claude yet.’ Daisy’s heart sank back down to its usual position. ‘Oh, this is good – she’s shared the page with all her friends, and they’re sharing it too. Someone will spot him soon, for sure.’ She spoke the last to Jay, who snuggled against her side in response.

  ‘I hope so,’ Daisy murmured. Poor Claude.

  Bella wrapped one arm around Jay, and kept the other on her phone. ‘Hey, want me to check if there’s anywhere to eat around here? I’m starving.’

  ‘That would be … remarkably helpful,’ Daisy admitted. They all needed something to eat.

  Oliver, meanwhile, had retrieved his phone and gone back to sulking in the passenger seat. With a sigh, Daisy picked hers up too. Three missed calls – all from Mum, earlier in the day, before she’d phoned her from Caen. Nothing from anyone else – certainly nobody who might know where Claude was.

  She was going to have to call Mrs Templeton, that much was clear. Even if Bella’s Find Claude campaign worked, it was irresponsible not to use every possible avenue to get Claude somewhere safe. But maybe it could wait until after they’d all had something to eat. Claude would understand that, Daisy was sure. The dog did always think with his stomach, after all.

  ‘Okay, it looks like we’re about ten miles off the main road we’re supposed to be on,’ Oliver said, swiping along the map on his phone.

  ‘There’s a McDonald’s about a mile away, or a small town that might have restaurants a bit further along,’ Bella added.

  Jay, meanwhile, had started up the lullaby app on his tablet, which had finally persuaded the twins to stop screaming.

  Daisy tried to ignore how much easier her life had just become with the addition of technology, and focused on the important things.

  ‘Town,’ she decided. ‘I want a proper meal, in a proper restaurant. And I am going to have a very large glass of wine with it.’ Oliver raised his eyebrows, and she added, ‘Because you are driving the rest of the way. I am done.’

  Sensibly, Oliver chose not to argue.

  Maybe it was the mulled wine and the Christmas music playing softly in the background that made Jack look even more attractive in the subdued under-cabinet lighting of her kitchen, but Holly doubted it. She had a feeling he’d always been this good looking and she just hadn’t let herself notice it.

  Or maybe it was just that any man who was as passionate and engaged in his Christmas planning couldn’t help but look gorgeous. Especially when he was doing a good deed.

  ‘So, she’s all alone for Christmas too?’ Holly asked, as Jack finished his summary of his and Claude’s visit next door. Holly had exchanged the odd hello or how are you with Kathleen since she moved in, but that was about all. The older woman usually seemed to be busy bustling about on errands or catching the bus somewhere on the weekends, and Holly was usually rushing to get to work during the week, so their paths rarely crossed for more than a few moments every morning. Plus there was always the fear that Kathleen Nordmann might be another curtain twitcher like Mrs Templeton.

  But from Jack’s description, Kathleen sounded far more like someone Holly should get to know. And if she wasn’t mistaken, Jack’s idea was going to involve her doing just that.

  ‘Yeah. Her daughter and son can’t make it over, and I think all her other friends are miles away. I guess she’s a bit lonely, to be honest, from the way she welcomed Claude and me in.’ He tilted his head slightly, obviously remembering the experience. ‘More than a bit, in fact. She wanted us to stay. As it is, I promised I’d go back soon because she’s very, very alone.’

  ‘It does sound like it.’ Guilt gnawed at Holly’s insides. Had she been so wrapped up in her own dramas that she’d totally failed to notice that the woman next door – the one she saw almost every day – needed a friend? Maybe even as much as Holly did. Jack had noticed, though, and he was planning to do something about it. The least she could do was help.

  ‘Anyway, I just thought that maybe, if you had the time, we could do something for her? To brighten up her Christmas?’ Jack phrased it as a question, but to Holly it was already a definite plan. They needed to do this.

  And if it gave her an excuse to spend rather more time in the company of the cute postman than she normally would, well, that could only be a Christmas bonus, right?

  ‘Like a surprise? We absolutely should,’ she said, firmly. ‘What were you thinking of?’

  Jack pulled a face and shrugged. ‘To be honest, that’s pretty much as far as I’d got. I figured you might have some ideas?’ He waved a hand over her parade of Christmas crafts. ‘I mean, you seem to have this Christmas thing pretty much nailed.’

  Holly felt an emptiness opening up inside her chest, one that she’d been avoiding all day. ‘Christmas is my favourite time of the year,’ she admitted.

  ‘I kind of got that.’ Jack gave her a fond smile, not unlike the
one he’d given Claude when the little dog had dozed off right next to Perdita’s food bowl a few moments ago. Holly bristled a little inside. She didn’t want him to see her as a cute, fluffy thing. But then, she’d not really given him any reason to see anything more, had she?

  Maybe she needed to work on that.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Jack said. ‘You’ve probably got loads of Christmas plans already, and no time to help me out with this, and you’re just too polite to say.’ He raised his glass of mulled wine to his lips and took a big gulp. ‘I should get out of your way.’

  ‘No!’ Holly said, loud enough to make Claude stir in his sleep. ‘No, really,’ she went on, a little quieter, her hand on his arm for emphasis. ‘I’m glad you suggested it. It sounds like a really kind, thoughtful idea, and I’d love to be involved.’

  ‘Really?’ Jack looked down at her hand, and Holly resisted the urge to pull it away in embarrassment. If she wanted him to see her as more than a sweet crafty girl on his post round, she needed to show him that she was more. ‘You’re not going away for Christmas or anything?’

  Holly winced at that, and sat back. ‘No. Not any more.’

  ‘But, you had plans?’ Jack guessed. ‘Sorry. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.’

  ‘It’s okay.’ Holly shook her head. ‘Actually … tomorrow was supposed to be my wedding day.’

  Jack’s expression settled into the pitying look she’d elicited from everyone she’d seen for weeks after Sebastian left. Every time she’d had to tell a friend or family member or colleague that the wedding was off, every time anyone mentioned weddings or romance or love, or even bloody Christmas, she’d got that look. That poor little Holly, all alone and abandoned. However will she cope? look.

  Basically, the look she’d given Claude that morning when she realised he was alone too.

  God, she was as pathetic as a lost French Bulldog with ridiculous ears. What did that say about her life?

  ‘Honestly, I’m better off without him,’ she said, firmly. She believed it. She just wished other people would too.