Fang settled in surprisingly quickly. Mum said nothing more about Fang (or Wolfie, as she called her) being too big. In fact, she and Dad seemed glad that Lucie had a companion. Although both Mum and Dad were around the house a lot during the day, in another way they weren’t around, because they were always working. Dad was usually hunched over his computer, writing computer programmes, and Mum taught French to people who came to the house, so neither of them had much time for Lucie. They were glad Lucie had Wolfie, especially as it was still the summer holidays.
Marcus’s Mum, on the other hand, worked out of the house. This meant that Marcus spent a lot of time in summer camps, which suited Lucie and Fang just fine. They hardly ever saw him.
Lucie loved being with Fang. She was so clever. She could smell things before she saw them, and hear things that were happening on the other side of the house. She showed Lucie stuff she had never noticed before, even on Acorn Avenue, like a foxes’ den, or hedgehogs, or a blackbirds’ nest. And she could run like the wind. Every night Fang slept next to Lucie’s bed. In the middle of the night, jolted awake by a bad dream, Lucie would hear Fang’s steady breathing, and feel safe again.
Best of all, there was a big park near Lucie’s house, and as long as she went with Fang, her parents let her go without them. Their favourite part (although Lucie’s parents did not know this) was the wild bit on the far side where there weren’t many people and there were woods and a gorge with a stream. Fang could run about and get some real exercise. She showed Lucie how to spot kingfishers. She also caught fish and rabbits to eat.
Lucie did not mind about the fish, but she did mind about the rabbits.
“Do you have to eat them?” she asked, looking the other way while Fang gnawed on a hind quarter.
Fang licked her lips. “Yes,” she said simply. “I must eat meat. Or would you rather I ate little girls?”
Lucie jumped.
“Just my little joke,” said Fang. “I wouldn’t really eat little girls.” She winked. “Too chewy.”
“Humph,” said Lucie. Of course Fang was a wolf, and a wolf could not live off bread and butter. But sometimes Lucie wished she could just go to a supermarket and buy a big tin marked Wolf Food — as Sophie had done in the story after the Tiger Came for Tea.
“You eat meat,” Fang pointed out. “You eat cows and pigs and chickens.”
“I know. But they are kept on farms.”
“Exactly,” said Fang. “Poor things. At least these rabbits have a good time right up until I eat them.”
Lucie had to admit that this was true.
Afterwards they walked down to the lake. Lucie often brought bread for the ducks, and enjoyed feeding them; and Fang enjoyed snapping playfully at the gulls if they came too close (at least, Lucie hoped she was being playful). But today she had forgotten the bread, and because it was such a nice day and she did not want to go home, she wandered into the children’s playground.
It was a very sunny day, and lots of parents had brought their children to play on the swings and slides. Lucie made her way towards the swings, with Fang beside her. Some of the grown-ups were sitting on benches, chatting. Some of them looked up as Fang passed. But none of them said anything. They just turned back to their conversations.
Then a little boy looked straight at Fang. He stood staring at her for a long time. Then he lifted a hand, pointed, and shouted, “Wolf!”
Everything went still. The children stopped playing. The parents stopped gossiping. Everybody turned and stared at Fang, who suddenly looked very big and very…wolf-like.
Lucie knew she had to do something quickly. She reckoned she only had a moment before everyone started screaming.
“Of course she’s not a wolf,” she said as loudly as possible. “I mean, how could she be a wolf? What an idea!”
Still nobody said a word. Lucie remembered talking to Mum in the kitchen. She forced a laugh. “I mean — a wolf! Ha, ha! Hee, hee!” She kept going. “Ho ho! Tee hee!”
It wasn’t working. They were still staring at Fang.
“Fang!” Lucie whispered. “Roll on your back!”
But Fang just gave her a Look that said that she wasn’t going to roll about on her back, like a silly dog, for anything.
So Lucie tried one last time. “I mean — just think of it! Whoever heard of a WOLF in a children’s playground!” She forced herself to giggle.
Slowly the terrified faces relaxed. They began to grin. Then they began to laugh. “Ha ha ha! A wolf in a children’s playground? How ridiculous!” A few wiped tears from their eyes.
And the next moment everybody had gone right back to their gossiping, their swinging, their sliding or cheerful shrieking. It was just as if nothing had ever happened.
Except for the small boy who had shouted in the first place. He stared at Fang solemnly with his thumb in his mouth.
“Don’t worry,” Lucie whispered. “She’s a nice wolf.”
The boy nodded and toddled off to the roundabout.
“It really was strange,” said Lucie to Fang later. “You’d think everybody would have run away. After all, there you were, teeth and everything. Running away would have been the sensible thing to do.”
“Agreed,” said Fang. “How you humans get by I can’t imagine. Rabbits now — they would have been off like the wind. And rabbits have no brain at all. But you humans seem even stupider than rabbits. How you’ve done so well as a species is beyond me.”
“I think,” said Lucie slowly, “because they didn’t expect a wolf to be there, they decided that there wasn’t a wolf after all.”
“That’s it,” Fang agreed. “They didn’t believe their eyes and nose. Not that you humans have much of a nose. Now rabbits —”
“Or was it your Magic Powers?” Lucie interrupted. “Maybe they protected you?”
“No,” said Fang cheerfully. “It wasn’t magic. It was just what you said. They decided they couldn’t have seen something, so they didn’t.”
“Well,” said Lucie, “at least it means we can go to the playground whenever we want.”
So they did, and to lots of other places too. If people ever looked at Fang strangely, and even muttered the word “wolf”, then Lucie knew what to do: “Whoever heard of a wolf in a garden centre!” or “Whoever heard of a wolf in a skate park!” or “Whoever heard of a wolf on a bus!” and then laugh as hard as she could. It always worked.
So the days went by until one Sunday Lucie was quieter than usual. She grew quieter and quieter, until by evening she hardly said anything at all.
Fang noticed. “What’s the matter with you?” she asked just before bedtime.
“Oh, nothing.”
“There must be something. You look like a bear that’s woken up only to find it’s still winter.”
Lucie sighed. “It’s the opposite really. I keep hoping and hoping it’s still summer, but today is the last day of the school holidays.
“Tomorrow I go to school.”