Emily's Dream

by Holly Webb

  “You mean I can do it!” Emily yelped excitedly, almost tipping Sukie over.

  Sukie smacked her in the leg with the puzzle, and stomped out of the room muttering. Mum had to chase after her.

  “Yes,” she called back up the stairs. “But only if I get to speak to your customers first, do you understand? You’d better ring that lady back. And be polite, Emily! Don’t forget to write down everything, so you know what time she wants you to come, all that sort of thing.”

  “I will! I promise!” Emily grabbed the piece of paper with the crayon scribble, and dialled the number with shaky fingers.

  “He’s a very good dog usually,” Mrs Everett said, pushing the plate of biscuits across the table to Emily. “But he’s an absolute terror if he sees a cat, I’m afraid. I never could train him out of it.” She looked worriedly at Emily. “Do you think you’ll be able to cope? I hadn’t realised quite how young you were…”

  Emily took a deep breath. She’d had a feeling Mrs Everett was going to say something like this, ever since the old lady had opened the front door. She’d suggested yesterday on the phone that Emily should come round for a cup of tea to discuss the times for walking Charlie, and Emily had said it would have to be after school. But Mrs Everett had probably thought she was a teenager.

  “I know I’m young, but I’m good with dogs, I really am,” she promised, gripping the table leg so she was touching wood for luck, and crossing the fingers of her other hand. “I help out at Appleby Animal Rescue, and I walk lots of dogs there. Even ones that are quite nervous, and need, um, careful handling.”

  “Oh.” Mrs Everett nodded thoughtfully. “Well. I suppose you could try, anyway. I must say, I’m very impressed with your initiative, even if you are young. And Charlie seems to like you.” She smiled at the little reddish-brown spaniel, who was sitting with his nose on Emily’s leg, gazing up at her adoringly.

  “To be honest, that’s probably because he thinks I’m going to give him a biscuit,” Emily admitted. “But I wouldn’t!” she added hurriedly. “Especially not these chocolate ones.”

  “Why not chocolate ones?” Mrs Everett frowned at her, looking confused. “Because they’re more fattening?”

  “Oh! No, it’s something I read in a dog magazine,” Emily explained shyly. “I don’t actually have my own dog, but I’ve always liked getting the magazine anyway. I cut the pictures out.” She flushed pink, realising this sounded a bit silly. “Um. It was at Christmas and there was a special article saying make sure you don’t put boxes of chocolates under the tree as a present for someone, in case your dog eats them. Chocolate’s poisonous to dogs. Mostly it’s dark chocolate that’s the problem, and they have to eat quite a bit of it, but they could even die, if they eat enough. There’s a chemical in chocolate, I think it’s called theobromine. Something like that. But it still tastes yummy to them, so they eat it anyway even though it’s so dangerous.”

  “Good gracious!” Mrs Everett looked at the biscuits in horror. “I never knew that. I’m sure Charlie’s had the odd chocolate biscuit when I’m not looking.”

  “I shouldn’t think there’s enough chocolate on them to hurt him,” Emily said reassuringly. She really hadn’t meant to upset the old lady, but Mrs Everett looked quite impressed, as though Emily was some sort of dog expert.

  Charlie stared up at her with reproachful, almond-shaped dark eyes. Clearly he suspected that there wouldn’t be any more sneaky chocolate biscuits, and it was all Emily’s fault. She rubbed his ears apologetically.

  “How often would you like me to take him out?” she asked.

  “Well, could you fit in three walks a week?” Mrs Everett asked. “I can take him for a short walk every day, and he has the garden, but I just can’t manage the nice long walks he really loves. I’ve got a problem with one of my knees, you see.”

  “That would be great,” Emily said enthusiastically. “I could take him along by the stream, maybe. Or across the common.”

  Mrs Everett sighed. “Yes, he loves it there, sniffing all the rabbit holes. But that’s just a bit too far for me now, except on a very good day. I can tell he’s going to have a lovely time with you.” She smiled, and reached down to stroke Charlie’s silky domed head. “I really am so glad I called you, Emily.”

  Emily beamed back at her. “I’m ever so glad too. I can’t wait to start walking him!”

  “We’re nearly home now,” Emily told Charlie. He was dragging his paws a bit, and she looked down at him anxiously. He’d had loads of energy when they first set off, so they’d gone quite a long way – but that meant they had to come quite a long way back again, and the little spaniel was definitely tired.

  “I hope Mrs Everett isn’t going to be upset that I wore you out,” Emily muttered. “I didn’t mean to… Do you want a carry, Charlie?” That was what they did with Sukie, when she started sitting down and sulking, and they didn’t have the pushchair. Emily crouched down and looked at Charlie, and he gazed back at her, with his tongue hanging out.

  “I reckon I can carry you for the last five minutes. Poor baby. Carry, yes? Is that OK?” She picked him up carefully, cradling him in her arms. “Wow. You’re a lot heavier than you look, Charlie. Too many biscuits.”

  Emily and Charlie staggered back along Mrs Everett’s road, and Charlie wriggled out of her arms when he saw his front gate, and dragged Emily up the path with a sudden burst of energy.

  “Oh, now you’re all bouncy…” Emily muttered. “I think my arms are going to fall off.”

  “It looks like he had a lovely time!” Mrs Everett laughed, opening her front door, and sidestepping as Charlie shot inside. “Goodness, where are you going?”

  “He probably wants a drink of water,” Emily explained apologetically. “We went quite a long way, and he got worn out by the end of it. I carried him the last little bit – he just suddenly went all tired and feeble. Sorry…”

  “Oh, but that’s good!” Mrs Everett assured her. “He hardly ever gets a good long walk like that now, and he is getting a little bit of a tummy. I’m sure he’ll get used to proper walks again in no time.” She sighed. “I just wish that I could take him myself.”

  Emily nodded. She didn’t really know what to say – it must be so sad for Mrs Everett. It sounded like she’d loved taking Charlie out, before her knee got so bad, and she’d told Emily about all the different dogs she’d owned over the years. She’d always had dogs around, and now she was feeling that she couldn’t look after Charlie properly.

  Mrs Everett smiled at her. “Don’t worry, Emily, honestly. It’s lovely to know that he’s going to get proper walks. You’re a star. And I’ll tell your mum that, as well. I saw her and your gorgeous little sister in the shop this morning, and she did look a bit worried about your business venture. But I think you’re very clever.”

  “It was my friend’s idea,” Emily explained rather shyly. “Mum and Dad love dogs, but there’s me and Sukie and my two brothers. They think a dog would be too much.”

  Mrs Everett nodded. “Oh, well, it depends on the dog, doesn’t it? With that many people in the house already, you’d need a really nicely trained dog. Maybe not a puppy, they can be silly round small children.”

  “I know.” Emily nodded. “I think we’d be all right – but it’s not up to me…” She sighed, and then grinned at the old lady. “But now I get to walk Charlie. I don’t think I’m very good at being in business, you know. I’d walk him for free.”

  “You will not!” Mrs Everett gave her a pretend-fierce look. “I’ll pay you at the end of the week. And I’ll tell any of my friends who might need a bit of dog-walking help, if you like. You could fit a couple more dogs in, don’t you think?”

  Emily nodded. “Yes, please!” She leaned close to Mrs Everett to whisper. “I’m saving up to have my own dog, you see. One day I will.”

  “This weekend’s going to be so exciting!” Maya leaned over Izzy’s shoulder. “What’s that a list of?”

  “Stuff we need to br
ing.” Izzy frowned thoughtfully across the playground. “Sleeping bags. Camping mats to lie on. What’s the floor made out of, Emily? Is it muddy?”

  “Ummm, well, it’s mud, but it’s not muddy, if you see what I mean.” Emily frowned. “Dry mud.”

  Izzy wrinkled her nose and wrote down groundsheets.

  “My mum said we maybe ought to bring our tent,” Emily said, looking at the list.

  “But I thought we were sleeping in the barn?” Maya looked confused.

  “Mmmm. But Dad pointed out it’s probably going to be really cold in such a big space. Especially as we’ll be sleeping on the floor. We’ve got a sort of pop-up tent, one that doesn’t need much pegging out – it would be tricky to bang the pegs in, because the floor’s all trodden down and hard, you see. It would just be like a little bedroom inside the barn.”

  Maya nodded. “I guess you’re the expert.”

  Emily grinned at her. “It’s ages since I’ve been camping, though. I’m really looking forward to it.”

  “You know what I’m not looking forward to?” Izzy said worriedly. “If we have to go to the loo in the middle of the night. I know you said the lady from the shelter’s letting us use her loo, but I don’t want to walk across two fields in the dark!”

  “You won’t have to, though. We’ve got one of those bucket loos. Camping ones,” Emily pointed out.

  Izzy shuddered. “Actually, that sounds worse.”

  “You could always nip behind a tree!” Maya giggled.

  “Yes, but other things might be behind it with me,” said Izzy with a shiver. “You know. Foxes. Or a badger.”

  “Maybe even a wolf,” Emily said, straight-faced, and Izzy stared at her in horror.

  “Not really? But I thought they were only in Scotland? Oh! You’re having me on.”

  “Of course I am! There aren’t wild wolves anywhere in Britain now!” Emily shook her head, giggling.

  Izzy sighed. “You’re so mean. I can’t help it, I kind of like my nice warm bathroom. And loo paper.”

  “Put loo paper on the list,” Emily told her. “The nice quilted stuff.”

  “Wow…” Poppy spun round slowly, staring up at the dusty rafters and the stained, dirty plaster on the walls.

  Emily made a face. “I know. It’s a mess. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.”

  But Poppy shook her head. “Oh no, I didn’t mean that! It’s amazing. Those wooden beam things, it’s beautiful.”

  “You think so?” Emily asked hopefully, looking round at all the others. “It’s just it looks like such a lot of work – I think I’d deliberately forgotten how bad it was, and then we walked in and I suddenly remembered…” She gazed helplessly at the dusty floor, which was covered in sticks, and bits of rubbish, and something that looked like it might be a dead mouse.

  “My mum and dad got married in a place that looked a lot like this,” Maya said. “I’ve seen the photos – I was only about three, so I don’t really remember it. But it was beautiful. There were loads of flowers everywhere, like long ropes of flowers hanging off the rafters.”

  “We can’t do that.” Izzy shook her head firmly. “Too expensive.”

  “Goodness.” Emily’s mum walked into the barn – she hadn’t run across the field like the girls, mostly because she was carrying a tent, and had sleeping bags dangling off all her fingers.

  “What do you think?” Emily asked her anxiously, hurrying over to help her put the tent down.

  Her mum looked around with half-closed eyes, and then smiled at her. “I think you two were very clever to spot it. But has Lucy got a ladder? I can’t see anyone having a party in here with all those spider webs hanging down. It’s making me quivery just looking at them. Can we get rid of them first?”

  Poppy nodded. “I should have brought Billy. He loves hunting spiders. I don’t think he ever actually catches them, he just runs along behind them making these big snapping noises.”

  “Oh, Henry catches them.” Maya shuddered. “And then he eats them, it’s disgusting. Actually, it might not be a bad idea to bring him along. I bet there’s mice in here.” She crouched down by the tiny little morsel of fur that Emily had spotted in one corner. “Yup, definitely. Henry’s a fab mouser.”

  “But if it’s a party all about raising money for rescuing animals and looking after them…” Emily began.

  “Ems, I don’t think that goes as far as mice,” her mum said gently. “Especially not if you’re having food at this party. Do you want to get the tent up?”

  Emily sighed. “I suppose so. It feels mean to the mice, that’s all.”

  “They can all move back in after the party,” Maya said, hugging her. “Henry’s just going to persuade them to go on a camping holiday for a bit. Like us.”

  “It’s really odd not being able to hear any cars,” Poppy murmured.

  “Mmmm…” Izzy agreed sleepily.

  “Sounds just like it does at home to me,” Maya yawned. “Except usually I’ve got Henry snoring at the end of my bed.”

  “Me too!” Emily whispered back. “Sukie snores, and so does my dad. Like a jet engine or something.”

  “Is your mum asleep?” Maya whispered.

  “Probably.” Emily sat up a bit and listened. Their tent had two bedrooms, and it was meant to sleep three people in each, but the girls had decided they’d all squash into one of them, and leave the other one for Emily’s mum and all their bags. Emily’s mum had pretended to be hurt, but she didn’t really mind. Emily had checked. Mum had said that as long as they didn’t wake her up because they needed a drink, or they wanted to go to the loo, or they felt sick, or they’d had a bad dream about the whole family being eaten by velociraptors, she really didn’t care who slept where, and Emily was pretty sure she meant it.

  “Do you think all those spiders went out of the door in the end?” Izzy murmured.

  “Yes,” Maya said firmly. “Especially after Emily chased that big one out with the broom.”

  “It was massive.” Poppy shuddered.

  “Oy! We all shake about when you wriggle like that! Izzy nearly put her foot up my nose,” Emily protested. They were all squashed up sharing the sleeping pod, but at least it was really cosy.

  Maya sniggered. “If I have to get up to go to the loo, I’ll have to walk on you, you know that, don’t you.” She yawned massively. “I was going to say we ought to stay up till midnight at least, but I’m really sleepy. All that sweeping the floor wore me out.”

  “And we’ve got to do painting tomorrow, that’s even harder,” Poppy murmured from the other end of the pod. “It wears your arms out. Doesn’t it, Izzy? You did your room with your dad, didn’t you?”

  There was a short silence, and then Emily giggled. “I think she’s asleep.”

  No one answered, and she sighed. “They’re all asleep. Wusses.” She rolled over, and nudged Izzy’s feet out of the way of her pillow. “Night, then…”

  “It was such a good idea bringing the camping stove.” Emily sniffed, and sighed happily as the steam from the hot-chocolate pan wafted up her nose. “It was worth lugging all those water carriers and things over from the car, Mum.”

  “There’s something about sleeping outside – or almost outside – that makes everyone starving.” Her mum poured hot chocolate into five mugs. “I knew you’d want something hot for breakfast, even though you swore to me you all wanted Coco Pops.”

  “This is really nice,” Emily sighed. The others were still asleep – or only awake as far as the groaning and wriggling stage anyway. But she had a feeling the hot-chocolate smell would bring them out of the tent soon. She looked thoughtfully at the big pile of supplies she and her mum had packed – big water carriers, a packet of cereal, a cool box with milk and all the stuff for sandwiches. “We’re going to have to bring everything for the party out here too. Water for squash. All the food. It’s going to be tricky remembering all of it.”

  Her mum grinned. “Oh, you’ll be fine. You’ve got Izzy and her amaz
ing list.”

  Emily nodded. “We need to start writing down ideas for what we’re actually doing at the party today. But we can talk about that while we’re painting.” She gazed around the barn. “It already looks loads better with the floor all swept.” Then she frowned, putting her head on one side. “What’s that funny noise? It sounds like a motorbike or something.”

  Emily got up, and hopped carefully across the barn floor with her feet half in her wellies. “Oh! Hello!”

  “Who is it?” her mum called anxiously. They hadn’t expected any visitors.

  “It’s Izzy’s dad! And his lawnmower! Izzy!” Emily yelled over the noise of the ride-on mower.

  There was a sudden silence as Izzy’s dad turned the mower off, and Izzy poked her face out of the tent, blinking sleepily.

  “Your dad’s here!” Emily told her, and she squeaked, and dived back into the tent to put her glasses on.

  “She’s not even up?” Her dad shook his head, pretending to be horrified. “Typical. Sorry to turn up so early, Emily. Iz mentioned that you were thinking of using the field for games and things, so I thought I could come and cut the grass for you. I’ve got a job later on, so I was fitting you in before.” He looked around at the barn. “This is a beautiful old place.” Then he frowned at the battered doors. “All your work tidying it up’s going to be wasted though, if you can’t shut these doors. The grot’s just going to blow back in.”

  Emily came to look at them with him. “I know, but they’re really wobbly. I tried closing them, and I thought they were going to fall apart on top of me.”

  “Mmmm.” Mr Armstrong frowned. “I’ve got some bits of wood I can mend those with, I reckon. The frame looks all right.”

  “Really?” Emily felt like hugging him, but Izzy beat her to it. She came dashing across the barn in just her pyjamas and socks, and flung her arms round her dad.