Eva Ibbotson - One Dog and His Boy

The kitchen of the cottage seethed with dogs and children. Otto had padded in quietly when his job was done, and Meg the old Labrador had come out from under the sofa and was doing her best to be polite to the newcomers.

In the middle of the throng sat Fleck, looking very pleased with himself. Hal’s grandfather had greeted him by name as soon as he had stopped hugging Hal.

“Hello, Fleck,” he had said, picking him out as the dog who mattered, whose place this was. “Welcome to our home.” Already Fleck had taken charge of one of Marnie’s slippers and was keeping it safe.

Hal, perched on a stool by the kitchen table, was completely happy. It was all as he had hoped. His grandparents, so warm and understanding, the crackling fire, the view outside the window of the sea and the islands and the scudding clouds… Only it was even better than he had imagined because he had saved not only Fleck but the other dogs, and he had found Pippa!

But when the children began to speak of their adventures, the horror of the last hour came back in full force.

“We were chased by tracker dogs,” said Pippa. “Honestly. We couldn’t believe at first that it was us they were after.”

“It was as though we were criminals,” said Hal. “You never saw such animals. If it hadn’t been for Otto—”

He broke off, because the back door of the cottage had opened and in the threshold stood a large, uniformed policeman, looking very much at home.

“Afternoon,” he said, removing his cap.

The children froze. Had they been betrayed? Were they going to be packed off to London and the dogs imprisoned again? Was it possible that Hal’s grandparents were going to turn them in? For a moment, Hal’s whole world seemed to topple.

But the policeman had begun to speak.

“I just called in to see if you’d had any news of the boy,” he said, “but I see that all’s well.”

“Yes, thanks, Arthur. Hal’s safe and sound and so is his friend Pippa. It was what we thought. He came with Fleck here. But the children have just told us they were chased by tracker dogs. Can you believe it?”

The policeman nodded. “We’ve had a message from one of the farmers out on the moor. I’ve sent a couple of men up there now. We reckon we know who they are. Chap called Kevin Dawks and his friend. Kevin’s a dumper and they’re nasty pieces of work, both of them. They’re breaking the law, of course, tracking without a licence.”

He put his cap on again, shook hands with the children, and left.

“He’s been such a comfort,” said Marnie. “Came in every day to see if you’d turned up. The police never thought you’d been kidnapped. They always thought you were on the way to us.”

But now it was time for the telephone. The call to the abbot didn’t take long, but Pippa’s call home was not quite so simple. It was Kayley who answered the phone.

“We’ve been expecting you back from camp for an hour. Is the bus late?”

“Actually, I’m not at camp,” said Pippa. “I’m in Northumberland.”

“You are what?”

“I’ll explain. Only it’s a long story.”

There was a pause. Then, “Is it a story about dogs?” asked Kayley.

“Yes, it is.” Pippa took a deep breath. “That’s exactly what it is. I’ve got them here with me and …” She launched into an explanation.

When she hung up, she looked distinctly shaken.

“My sister’s coming to fetch me,” she said. “I hope that’s all right. She’s a bit cross.”

Actually, considering how good-tempered Kayley usually was, she had not been a bit cross. She had been very cross indeed.

“Now you, Hal,” said his grandfather.

In London, Albina picked up the phone and shrieked.

“Oh, thank goodness! Thank the Lord! Oh, Hal, we’ve been so worried, I thought I would die! You must come back at once – at once. Is there an aeroplane you can get? Or perhaps the train’s faster. No, what am I saying? Of course we’ll come up and fetch you in the car. We’ll be with you in a few hours.”

Hal’s voice cut in, quiet but implacable.

“I’m not coming home,” he said.

“What? Oh, Hal, darling, what are you saying? Hal…” She began to sob down the telephone but her son did not relent. He was reliving the moment when he had come back from the dentist and found Fleck gone.

“I’m here with Fleck and I’m not going to give him up. Not ever.”

“No, no … of course not. I’m sorry. It’ll be all right, we understand.”

“You tricked me,” said Hal. “I don’t trust you any more.” Albina was still crying but Hal was seeing Fleck, lying unconscious on the floor of his cage. “I’ll never trust you again.”

He was about to put down the receiver when his grandfather came and took it out of his hand.

“Albina, I’d like to speak to my son, please,” he said. “Is he there?”

“Yes, he’s here. Oh, what shall I do?” Albina was beside herself. “Donald, it’s your father.”

Donald took the phone.

“You’ve got the boy?”

“Yes, he’s safe and sound and he’s got his dog. But he’s very tired and at the end of his tether. Give him a few days to rest up before you come.”

“But that’s ridiculous. You can’t expect us not to—”

His father’s voice was different. Not the voice of someone who had decided to stand aside and not interfere. This was his father’s voice as he remembered it from his childhood.

“The boy needs time. Come up at the end of the week. And remember this, Donald: if you try to take his dog away, you’ll have lost him for good.”

Returning to the kitchen, Alec found his wife and the children with their faces pressed to the window.

“We saw them,” said Pippa gleefully. “In a police van. The dumper was there and another man and two dogs. And there was someone else with them sort of cowering at the back. He looked terrified.”

She spoke the truth. Milton Sprocket, arrested by the police, hemmed in by Darth and Terminator, cold and bitten and disgraced, had sunk to the very depths of his being.

On the following day Hal was out in the garden helping his grandfather weed the vegetable bed when he saw an enormous silver car drive up to the cottage. Immediately he was furious. His parents had promised not to come up before the end of the week. What’s more, they had bought another car they didn’t need – a Rolls-Royce gleaming with newness.

The car stopped, and out of the driving seat came a calm-faced Indian gentleman who stood for a moment looking at the view. Then a second door opened, and out stepped Kayley.

When she had finished talking to Pippa on the telephone, Kayley had hurried round to find her mother, who was sewing with Mrs Naryan. It was no good trying to shield Pippa now, so she explained exactly what had happened.

“I’m going up to fetch her straightaway,” she said. “Goodness knows what else she’ll get up to. There’s an overnight bus to Berwick, I can catch that. I’ve got enough in my savings for the fare, just about.”

But at this point Mrs Naryan put down her needle.

“That is not a good idea, I think,” she said in her soft voice. “This bus will not be pleasant.”

She walked out of the room and came back with her husband. Mr Naryan, like his wife, was small, soft-spoken and gentle. He was also one of the richest men in England, having built up a flourishing import-export business in the years since he had left Rajasthan.

“I will drive you to Northumberland,” he said.