Princess Phoebe (3 page)

When we get back to my house at four o'clock, Dad's out and Queenie's still in the shed with her puppies. Nick's alone downstairs making a peanut butter sandwich.

Nick is Dad's son from way back when Dad was married to someone else. He's lived with us for my whole life and he's the kindest person, even though he looks and acts tough. He's saved me a thousand times from the twins.

Our house has one big room downstairs with the kitchen bit at the front end and everything else at the back, so when Jan comes up with her idea, Nick overhears what she says.

‘Why don't we hide Queenie and the puppies? If no one wants them except us, why not?'

‘Hide them where?' I ask.

‘Gran's allotment of course,' says Jan. ‘I bet she wouldn't mind. She loves dogs. And if we go quickly, now, she'll probably still be there.'

‘Are you two mad?' Nick comes over, sandwich in hand. ‘Dad will go crazy! And how would you feed them? Or even get them there?' he asks.

‘In your van!' I say, as I realise what a brilliant idea it is. ‘It'll be easy.
Please
, Nick, say you'll help?'

At first Nick doesn't want to know, but he's fond of Queenie too, and by the time Jan and I have begged and pleaded with him for five whole minutes, he gives in and agrees to drive us.

‘I warn you though,' he says, ‘those dogs technically belong to Frank. He may have said he doesn't want them, but he could change his mind at any minute. And it could be that Dad will change
his
mind, and not take them to the rescue at all. Have you thought of that? And, what's more, Queenie might stand to get a nice new home.'

‘But then I wouldn't have her anymore!' I protest, ‘and she might
not
get a nice new home. She's really old. I heard of a greyhound once that was found on the street with its nails painted all different colours.'

‘Don't talk daft,' says Nick, ‘and how do you know Margaret will let them stay? Who would want to suddenly take on a whole family of dogs?'

‘I'm sure Gran will,' says Jan, ‘she'll understand that it's an emergency.'

I'm not quite as certain that Margaret will be pleased, but I don't want to think about that. I just want Queenie to be saved from going to strangers, however nice, as I'm sure Dad is serious about letting her and the puppies go.

‘Quick then,' I say, ‘let's get them out before the others get back. We can think about everything else later.'

Before Nick can have second thoughts we whiz out to the shed and grab everything. Queenie, four puppies, bits of sacking and some feed and water bowls. I run back into the house and get the bag of dog biscuits, wishing there were more left. Nick makes space in the back of his van and we get Queenie in. The puppies think it's a great laugh and leap about like anything. I'm panicked thinking Dad might come home any minute, but we get away and Nick drives us up the hill to the allotments. It isn't far.

But as we turn a sharp corner near the edge of the estate, we see Frank walking out of the flats where he lives. His disgusting hairy stomach is sticking out between his shirt buttons and he has no coat on, even though it's cold. He stares, clocking all three of us sitting in the front. His small, mean little eyes follow us as we go up the hill. I can see him in the wing mirror.

Nick swears. ‘I could do without that,' he says.

‘But Frank doesn't want the dogs,' I say.

‘No,' says Nick. ‘It's me he wants. He's waiting for some money I owe him.'

It's not like Nick to tell me stuff like that. It makes me anxious. ‘Why did you borrow from him?' I ask. ‘Everyone knows what he's like.'

‘How d'you think I got this van?' asks Nick. Then he says, ‘Look, forget it. And say nothing at home. I'll sort Frank out. You concentrate on hiding the greyhounds.'

I can't say Margaret's
that
pleased when we roll up with five greyhounds just as it's getting dark. She's ready to go home and has all her tools packed away in the outbuilding. Jan's got a lot of explaining to do. But as we tell the story and the puppies fly around the place like mad things, rolling
and playing with delight at being out of their shed and in this exciting new place, we can see that Jan's gran is going to give in. She likes all animals and the puppies are unbelievably sweet. Add to that Queenie's begging looks, and in the end she agrees that they can stay for a few days.

I carry in the sacking and bowls. There's enough food for a week and we collect water from the allotment tap. Then we kiss them all goodnight, with a special kiss for Margaret, and get back in Nick's van.

‘So that was the easy bit,' he says. ‘What are you going to tell Dad and Pearl?'

‘I'll tell them the truth,' I say. ‘I'll tell them a friend from school wants to give them a home, to save them going to the rescue.'

When we get back to our house, having dropped Jan at hers on the way, Mum and Dad haven't even missed the dogs. They are talking about the rent man who's been calling again, saying we're behind and if we don't catch up with the payments he'll put us out. So I casually drop in to the conversation that I've sorted the problem of the dogs and that they've gone.

‘What?' says Dad, ‘what did you say Ellie?'

‘I said the greyhounds have gone, Dad. Don't freak,' I add quickly, as he starts changing colour.

‘What d'you mean “they've gone”?' he asks, turning to Nick. ‘D'you know about this lad?' He often calls Nick ‘lad,' as if Nick's someone from the old days.

Nick looks at me and shrugs, so I get in quick.

‘Jan's gran's taken them,' I say, ‘and she'll help us find homes for them.' Of course, this isn't exactly true. ‘I thought you'd be pleased.'

‘You're getting above yourself my girl,' he says, but I can tell by his face that he's thinking
there's one less thing to worry about
. It makes me sad to think that this is the only
thing he feels about Queenie going, after all she's done for him and Frank. But when I go to bed I can't help worrying. Jan's gran certainly hasn't said she'll help us find homes for the puppies and, in fact, she's made it clear that they can only stay with her for a few days.
What if they dig up her beans? Eat someone's cat
? I can't sleep for picturing five full-sized greyhounds going crazy on the allotments and getting even less food than they had in our shed, as I've got no money at all. Maybe we haven't thought it through properly after all.

Thankfully, next day at school, Jan has another of her ideas.

‘Why don't we advertise them? There could be loads of kids that want a greyhound.'

‘But what about us?' I say, ‘we want a greyhound, don't we? And if all that happens is they get new homes with other people we could have let Dad take them away in the first place!'

‘True,' Jan agrees.

‘D'you reckon your dad might let you have Jade, if you told him it was an emergency?' Jan looks doubtful.

‘It
is
an emergency,' I insist.

‘I'll talk to him,' she says, ‘and I'll ask Gran to help.'

When Jan tells me next day that her dad has agreed to her having Jade I'm thrilled to bits – and jealous. ‘What's more', she says, ‘Gran's thinking of keeping Queenie herself.'

‘What d'you say Ellie?' Margaret asks as we arrive at the allotment later and the puppies jump all over us, ‘would
you like me to have Queenie? I'd look after her very well and you'd be able to see her whenever you want.'

‘It's a great idea,' I say, feeling terrible.

As I walk home later I decide that I'll
make
Dad agree to let me keep Princess, even if it takes me all night.

‘You've got Tag,' I tell him, ‘Mum's got Sam and Patrick, and the twins have got each other. I want someone of my own!'

‘But you've got all of us Ellie,' he says.

‘
Please
!' I keep on at him. I sit on his knee and tickle his neck. I get up again and make him a cup of tea and a jam sandwich (his favourite). I promise to help Mum with the baby. I even promise to try and stop fighting with the twins.

‘Now, that is tempting,' Dad says. I can see he's weakening.

I decide I'd better do a demonstration, so I wash up a pile of dishes. I turn to make pleading faces at him in between plates as he sits on the sofa with Tag. I notice that Mum's giving him looks, too, until, in the end, just before bed, he gives a big sigh and says crossly, ‘
All right
!'

I shout with joy. I kiss him and Mum, and then I text Jan. I'm
so
excited. Jan and I send texts to each other until midnight, planning all the stuff we're going to do as dog owners. It's brilliant.

Next day at school, we carry out Jan's idea for the other two puppies. We print off the advert, after we've checked a few spellings:

FREE TO GOOD HOMES!

TWO 10 WEEK OLD CHARMING GREYHOUND PUPPIES WANT LOVING HOMES WITH SOFAS AND GOOD FOOD
Apply Ellie or Jan

It seems worth it to say about the food and the sofas, to make sure the puppies will be comfortable, wherever they go.

All we have to do is to pass the advert round in our year. It turns out that loads of kids, and their parents, want them, so Jan and I take trips up to the allotment to show the puppies off and choose who to give them to. In the end, the same family takes both of them. They've already got two greyhounds but they live in a village and have plenty of room for more. That's the thing about greyhounds. You can never have too many.

We're so happy as we send everyone to their new homes, and Jan and I take Princess and Jade at the same time. Queenie's overcome with excitement and trots off with Margaret to her warm cosy house, without a backward glance at me. I know I'll see her often so, when it comes to it, I don't mind. I tell myself she's Margaret's dog now, and I have Princess to love. It's a perfect story, which should end there. But for me and Princess, it's only just beginning.