My paws felt heavy as I climbed the stairs back to the Corgi Room. I’d barely explored a fraction of the Palace, but already I knew there was far more to this building than I could hope to see in one day.
The door to the Corgi Room was open, at least, so I slunk in and found myself alone. Settling down into my basket, I curled up and waited for one of the others to come back and help me find a way out.
But as I lay there, another, terrible thought occurred to me.
Willow had said that when She returned – whoever She was, but I was guessing probably the Queen – I’d be thrown out into the streets the minute they realised I wasn’t the real Monty. Which was fine by me, as I’d get to go home.
Except … I didn’t know my way around London, and I certainly didn’t know how to get back to the Walkers’ without help. I knew we’d come in on a train, but how would I tell which one? And even if I could, I was fairly sure they wouldn’t let me on without a human.
My grand plan of escaping was a bust – even if I could find an open door.
No, I had to try and make the best of things here at the Palace until Amy could find me – if she was even looking. And if she wasn’t … well, I was a charming dog. Maybe if I made enough friends here, they’d let me stay.
Which meant winning over Willow and the Dorgis.
Not likely.
Before I could follow this line of thought any further, a shadow appeared in the doorway. Willow.
‘Where are your henchmen?’ I asked, getting to my paws.
Willow shook her head. ‘They’re not henchmen. They’re family.’
‘And I’m not. I get it.’
‘You’re … not like us,’ Willow said, with more diplomacy than I’d heard from her so far. ‘But apparently it seems you’re going to be staying a while.’
‘You just figured that out?’ I said, channelling my inner Sookie to get the sarcastic tone just right.
‘I heard one of the footmen talking,’ Willow explained. ‘The one that held the door for us by the stairs. He said that the new dog didn’t seem to be fitting in very well, and perhaps She should have taken you with her after all.’
‘So?’
‘So, I’d assumed that the humans, like us, would have been able to see through your lack of breeding and realised you weren’t Monty. Apparently I was giving them too much credit.’
‘Sarah didn’t notice,’ I pointed out. ‘Why would you think a footman would?’ Presumably, the grumpy man from yesterday was a footman, then. There seemed to be a few of them running around the Palace. I wondered what their jobs were.
‘Well, she’s like you, isn’t she?’ Willow said.
‘You mean new?’
‘I mean … an outsider. She wasn’t born to this. She doesn’t know how it all works, yet.’ Willow hopped up into her own basket, turning around a few times before settling down. ‘She’ll learn, or she’ll leave.’
Also like me, I realised. If I wanted to stay here long enough for the Walkers to find me, I needed to fit in, so they didn’t realise I wasn’t Monty. Which meant learning more about the place.
And I knew just the person to teach me.
‘So, tell me about Monty,’ I said, jumping down to pad over towards Willow’s basket. I settled myself on the carpet below where her wicker basket rested just a little above the ground. ‘And this place. How come you all get your own room? And what’s with the baskets not being on the floor?’
All valid questions, I thought – and I had plenty more. But Willow gave me a look like I was the stupidest dog in the world. Which she probably thought I was.
‘Monty is the latest addition to our pack,’ Willow said. ‘We haven’t actually met him properly yet, but given his pedigree, and his previous owners, I’m sure he’ll fit in fine. He’ll understand the hierarchy, for a start.’
‘The hierarchy?’ Maybe I really was as clueless as Willow thought. I had no idea what that word even meant.
‘Of course. The dog who has been here the longest – me, in this case – is the leader. The queen, as it were. The others follow in the order in which they arrived.’
‘So Vulcan, Candy then me,’ I guessed. ‘That explains the order for breakfast and such. I didn’t even notice last night.’
‘Well, you were late,’ Willow pointed out. ‘Another mark against you. Punctuality is a virtue – especially where dinner is concerned.’
That, we could both agree on. ‘So, Monty would be at the bottom of the pack too, then?’ I supposed that made sense. Sookie had been with the Walkers for a year longer than I had, and she always made it clear that she thought she was the leader, too. Of course, Sookie would probably have done that even if I’d been there years before her. That was just Sookie.
Was it weird that I was actually starting to miss that mean old cat?
‘Of course. Besides, Monty isn’t really a Royal Pet, you know.’ Willow leant out of her basket slightly, talking down to me as if exchanging top-secret information (like where the treats were kept). ‘She decided a few years ago that She wouldn’t get any more pets – I mean, obviously we were companionship enough for Her, so why would She need them?’
‘But She got Monty.’
‘Yes.’ Willow pulled a face. ‘But only because She’s so kind-hearted. His previous owner was a friend of Hers – an earl, of course – and when he died She offered to take him in. She explained it all to us first, of course.’
‘She sounds kind,’ I said. I’d never really thought all that much about the Queen before, but given the luxurious surroundings She gave her dogs, I supposed She must be.
‘She is the kindest human, or owner, any dog could hope to have,’ Willow said, firmly, as if daring me to doubt it.
I didn’t.
‘It was Her mother, you know, who set out our routine.’
‘Her mother?’
‘The Queen Mother,’ Willow clarified, although it still meant nothing to me. ‘She recognised our superior qualities, as a breed, I suppose, and made sure that the Royal Dogs would live a life suited to their status.’
‘Such as baskets raised off the floor?’
‘To avoid draughts.’
‘And I suppose you get all sorts of treat foods and things, right?’ I said hopefully. Maybe something good could come of this adventure, after all. ‘Scraps from the Queen’s table, doggy chocolate drops, that sort of thing?’
Willow looked scandalised. ‘Not at all! We have a very strict diet, developed specially for us and our well-being. She would never dream of doing anything less.’
I sank down onto my haunches. ‘Strict diet’ didn’t sound like a lot of fun, if I was honest.
‘It’s not what you’re used to, of course,’ Willow said. ‘I suppose you must – what? Hunt for your own food? Raid the bins, or what have you?’
Now it was my turn to look horrified. ‘Of course not!’ Although, actually … ‘Well, not if I don’t want to.’
‘So you have an owner, then.’
‘Yes, of course I do. I told you this morning – the Walkers.’
Willow looked at me blankly.
‘My family.