Pulling four silver-coloured bowls from the shelf on the wall, Sarah laid them on the floor in front of us.
‘Now, I believe there’s a very strict order for this,’ she said, smiling. ‘But I’m afraid I’m new here too, so you’ll have to forgive me if I get it wrong.’
She shook the dry, meaty food into the first bowl. It didn’t look like the food we’d had at dinner the night before, but to be honest I’d been too scared and lost to even notice what I was eating then. In fact, I’d left most of it – meaning I was starving now.
I would have jumped forward at once to start eating, but the other three dogs held back, so I waited too. Obviously this was another Palace rule I didn’t understand. I mean, really – who waited for food?
Once the bowls were filled, Sarah stepped back and looked at us. ‘Do I need to say something? Um … eat?’
I jerked forward, but Vulcan and Candy both barked at me. ‘Not you,’ Candy said, sharply.
I backed off, and Willow stepped delicately forward, dipping her muzzle into the bowl before her and eating.
Looking more closely at the bowls, I realised they all had a name inscribed on the front of them – all except mine. Maybe they hadn’t got around to engraving the missing Monty’s bowl yet – or maybe they’d taken it with them and this was a spare. I didn’t know.
I did know it was still empty. And I was beginning to think it might be a while before it was my turn.
I was right. Next up was Vulcan, and then Candy. Both took their time eating their breakfast – probably just to annoy me. Then, finally, Sarah filled my bowl and the other dogs moved aside to let me tuck in.
Sarah laughed as I demolished the food. ‘You were hungry, huh, boy?’
I would have barked a yes, but I was too busy eating. The food was fantastic – even for dry food. Meaty and moist and filling and tasty. Just what a hungry and lost corgi needed.
Eventually, the bowl was empty. I looked up pleadingly at Sarah. It was my best look, the one that made Amy crumble every time, but Sarah was already putting the food bag away.
‘Sorry, Henry,’ she said. ‘I might be new, but even I know that rule. Only one bowl of food, and that’s it until dinner.’ She placed the bag back on the shelf and collected up the bowls. ‘See you guys later, if I’m lucky. I’m hoping that, with Her Majesty away, I might be allowed to feed you your dinner, too. I heard the chef is making you rabbit, tonight.’
She turned and left, my stomach rumbling at the very idea of rabbit. In fact, I was so distracted by the idea of dinner, it took me a moment to realise that she’d left the door open, and the other three were trotting towards it confidently.
Was this a mistake? Maybe Sarah didn’t know that the door was meant to be closed. Or, were we really allowed to go out and explore the Palace? It seemed unlikely – the whole place was too ornate, too special, for four dogs to just go wandering around. Wasn’t it?
Willow, Candy and Vulcan obviously didn’t share my concerns. They were already through the open door and out into the corridor. I paused for just a moment before following them.
Unsure of where to go, I padded along behind the other three until we reached the stairs I’d climbed up the day before.
Vulcan looked back over his flanks. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’
‘Um, downstairs?’ I hazarded a guess.
‘Okay then,’ Candy said and, before I could figure out what was happening, all three of them had turned tail and were heading along the corridor in the opposite direction to the Corgi Room. As I watched, a man in the same sort of suit Grumpy Man had worn the day before held a door open for the procession of one corgi and two Dorgis. They trotted through, imperiously, as if they were the Queen themselves, rather than just the Queen’s dogs.
The man looked at me curiously, obviously waiting to see if I’d follow. But I couldn’t. I wasn’t going to go anywhere I wasn’t wanted.
Which meant I just needed to find somewhere that I was wanted.
Turning away from the door, I padded down the stairs, front paws then back to manage the wide steps. Maybe downstairs would be more fun.
I took a few wrong turns before I found my way to the red room I’d entered through the day before, and then I found the door I’d come in through was closed. I looked around for a helpful man to open it, but I couldn’t see any.
Pressing my nose up against the glass of the door, I stared out at the gardens longingly. They’d been so tempting yesterday, I couldn’t help but follow that pigeon into them. Even now, I knew, if someone opened this door for me I’d race out and run around for all I was worth. I’m an outdoor dog, you see. As luxurious as this Palace was, the gardens were still my favourite bit so far.
Even if they had taken me away from my family.
Were they looking for me? I hadn’t really gone so far from where they were. I’d have thought they’d have just knocked on the door and asked if anyone had seen me. Then the grumpy man might have realised his mistake and given me back.
Sookie would be glad I was gone, anyway.
The thought of Sookie made me smile for a second, unexpectedly. Sookie, moggy that she was, would have loved the Palace. She’d have thought it was exactly where she belonged. She could do imperious even better than the Royal Dogs.
Sookie would fit right in at Buckingham Palace; I didn’t think I ever would.
No, I couldn’t think like that. If I’d found a way into the Palace, I could find a way out, too. A way home.
I knew that Buckingham Palace was a lot larger than my home, but I had no idea how much bigger until I started exploring. I stayed on the ground floor to start with, padding through luxurious room after luxurious room, all of them far bigger than any room at the Walkers’ house.
Everywhere I looked something sparkled gold or silver, or shone with lights. Under my paws, the carpets were deep and soft, and mostly a dark, rich red.
Every person I saw moved out of my way to let me trot past, like I really was one of the royal pets. And as much as I wanted someone to realise that I didn’t belong there, the fact that they didn’t gave me the confidence to continue my expedition.
Somewhere, there had to be a door that was open. One that I could escape through and find my family again. I just had to find it.
On my travels, I came across a room with a large, dark wood table in the centre, piled high with shiny silver objects. As I approached, I saw a woman wearing the same uniform that Sarah had on that morning, bustling the other way, muttering something about polish. Intrigued, I headed in.
The stack of silver on the table looked like pirate treasure from one of the movies that Jack loved to watch when he was younger, all gleaming in the sunlight from the windows. At the top of one pile, I spotted a silver bowl that looked a bit like the ones Sarah had fed us our breakfast in. Tilting my head to the side, I considered it.
It was unlikely that it still had food in it, all the way up there, right? But it would be silly not to check. Just in case. After all, once I found my escape route, I’d need all my energy to get home. A little extra food wouldn’t go amiss, in that case.
Hopping up onto a nearby chair, I pressed my front paws up against the table and peered up at the pile of silver. Still too far away to tell if there was any food waiting at the top of that pile of treasure.
In Jack’s movies, the treasure was always worth the risk it took to get it. I