‘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. Jim and Amy and Jack and Claire.’
Willow gave a small shrug. ‘I thought they were just like our walkers. People who walk us, when She is busy.’
‘They’re much, much more than that,’ I said. ‘They’re like She is to you.’
‘I wouldn’t go that far,’ Willow said.
‘I would.’
‘Hmm.’ She eyed me carefully for a few moments. ‘I suppose you want to get back to them, then.’
‘Very much.’ I’d spent a restless night imagining how they’d all be coping without me. And whether Sookie had stolen my favourite squeaky toy yet. ‘The last place I saw them was just outside the Palace, before we got … separated. I’ve spent today searching for an open door out of here … except I realised, I don’t know where I’d go if I found one. So instead I’m hoping that Amy will keep looking for me, and realise I must be here in the end, and come calling to pick me up.’
‘Which means you have to stay here long enough for that to happen,’ Willow surmised.
‘Exactly.’
She gave a doggy sigh. ‘Well, in that case, I suppose I’d better fill you in on how we do things around here. See if we can stop you standing out quite so much.’
‘Is it really so obvious that I don’t belong here?’ I asked. Surely, when you got down to it, a dog was as good as any other dog, after all.
But Willow laughed. ‘Of course! Only truly special dogs get to live the life of a Royal Pet, you know.’
And, I realised, in Willow’s eyes, I was nothing special at all.
Showed what little she knew, right?
Later, when dinner time came around, I was prepared. And also starving.
Willow had patiently (and patronisingly) talked me through a day at the Palace, giving me a little history along the way. Tomorrow, she promised, she’d take me with her so she could ‘train me up properly’ – a phrase I disliked immediately. After all, the Walkers had already trained me. I didn’t need some posh corgi telling me how to do things.
But then Willow had added, ‘If you’re going to be a Royal Pet, you’re going to have to learn a whole new lifestyle, you realise.’ She surveyed me, and sighed. ‘I’ve never had to work with such raw material before, but I suppose I’ll see what I can do. A good teacher should be able to instruct even the roughest of dogs, and you are, at least, a corgi.’
The one thing we had in common. Our breed. But even that didn’t seem to be enough to satisfy Willow. Willow, I’d realised quickly, was a snob. And her snobbishness had rubbed off on the other two dogs, too.
‘So gracious of you,’ I’d muttered. Oh well. At least following the other dogs around might be more entertaining than being shunned and ignored by them. ‘Now, why don’t you start by telling me about dinner?’
I already knew about the order for eating, but now I understood a little more about why.
‘Normally, we’d eat dinner in Her sitting room, and She’d feed us Herself,’ Willow had explained. ‘But She’s away at the moment, which is why we have the rather unsatisfactory Sarah feeding us instead.’
‘Does She go away often?’ I’d asked.
‘Yes,’ Willow had replied. ‘But normally She takes us with Her.’
I could tell that this was something of a sore point for the other dogs. They weren’t used to being left behind, and the idea that the New Dog, Monty, had got to travel with their beloved Queen when they hadn’t was obviously ruffling their fur.
That could be my way in, I decided. A way to make friends with these dogs. They’d been left behind, too – although not in quite such a spectacular manner as I had. But still, it was the one thing we had in common.
I just hoped it would be enough.
At dinner time, Sarah arrived, smiling again – although her eyes were a little bit red.
‘How are you settling in, Henry?’ she asked, leaning down to pat my head. I nuzzled into her hand, happy for the contact. None of the other dogs had let me close enough to touch them, and none of the footmen or other humans I’d encountered on my jaunt around the Palace had wanted to get near me at all. It was as if they thought I might bite them or something!
But Sarah had no such concerns. She took time to give my ears a good scratching, and when I rolled over onto my back she even rubbed my tummy.
It was the happiest I’d been since I arrived at the Palace. Even if the others were looking on disapprovingly, I didn’t care if I’d broken another rule.
Soon, there was a knock on the door and Sarah said, ‘Time to go!’
We were led along the corridor a little way to outside a door that – according to Willow’s information – must lead to the Queen’s sitting room. Sarah and a man in uniform laid a plastic sheet over the carpet, then set out the four silver bowls – three with names, one without.
‘Is that straight, John?’ Sarah asked. ‘Sorry, it is John, right?’
‘It is.’ The man straightened the plastic until it lay perfectly against the carpet, lined up with the wall on both sides. He didn’t ask her name, I realised. Candy and Vulcan probably wouldn’t approve of that.
But I wasn’t bothered about protocol, right then. Already, I could smell something wonderful. Rabbit, Sarah had said. But this smelled richer, meatier, than any dog food I’d ever sniffed at before.
The man – John – filled the bowls with the juiciest looking food I’d ever seen. My mouth watered just at the sight of it. But I knew from earlier that I couldn’t just dive in and eat – as much as I wanted to.
But what if the others ate my food too? Or dragged out their own meals so long that there wasn’t time for me to eat? I wouldn’t put it past them. It was the sort of thing that Sookie would try – and these dogs reminded me an awful lot of Amy’s cat. (And no, that wasn’t a compliment.)
These thoughts tugged at my brain and, as much as I tried to resist, I couldn’t help lunging forward, desperate to taste the delicious food in front of me.
‘Ah-ah!’ John said, sternly. ‘In order, please.’
Chastised, I slunk back, saliva practically dripping from my jaws. I could hear the other dogs muttering uncomplimentary things about me behind my back.
‘It seems so mean, making them wait,’ Sarah said, as Willow stepped daintily forward to begin her feast. ‘They look so hungry.’
John gave her a scornful look. ‘These dogs are the most spoilt and pampered pooches in the land. Look at them, they eat better than I do!’
‘Don’t you eat here at the Palace too?’ Sarah asked, innocently. ‘I think the food here is just marvellous.’
‘That’s not the point. The point is … they’re dogs, not princes and princesses. They get their special raised baskets, their specially designed menu, all cooked from scratch by the chef with the finest ingredients. They get to go wherever they like