“Why can’t I have a dog?” Marcus asked his mother next morning as they sat eating breakfast in their immaculate kitchen.
“Horrid, smelly, messy creatures,” said Mrs Mainwaring at once. “Pooing everywhere. Shedding fur I hate them. Almost as much as I hate children,” she added.
Marcus did not take that personally. His mother ran a nursery.
“Noisy too,” went on Mrs Mainwaring. “Barking and yapping. That one next door doesn’t bark, thank goodness. But it was howling the other night. Looked out of the window and there it was, howling in the moonlight. Gave me quite a shock, I can tell you.” She scowled, remembering. “Looked almost like — almost like a wolf.”
“Maybe it is a wolf,” said Marcus.
“Don’t be stupid,” snapped Mrs Mainwaring. “Whoever heard of a pet wolf?” She got up and went to wash up her breakfast things.
“It could be,” Marcus said. “That Lucie has a book about wolves at school. I took it — I mean, I borrowed it — when she wasn’t looking. And that dog looks just like the pictures. Maybe it really IS a wolf.”
“And maybe pigs can fly,” said Mrs Mainwaring.
“What would happen if it was a wolf?”
“They’d stick it in a zoo,” said Mrs Mainwaring at once. “Or shoot it. But it’s not a wolf.” She put on her rubber gloves and began spraying disinfectant all over the counters. “I’m certainly going to complain if I hear it howling again,” she added.
“I still don’t see why that Lucie should have a dog and not me,” whined Marcus.
“You’ve got a rabbit, haven’t you?”
“Only because the nursery rabbit had babies. I never wanted a rabbit.”
“Then give it to next door’s dog,” said Mrs Mainwaring nastily. “I’m sure it would take care of it for you. Now get moving, Marcus, I’m late.”
She hurried out of the sparkling kitchen to find her coat. Marcus was still thinking over their conversation. Certain phrases kept niggling at him: stick it in a zoo and shoot it and give it to next door’s dog. He realised he was getting an idea.
A mean, cruel, cunning idea. Just the kind he liked best.
“What if it was a talking wolf?” he said to his Mum as they left the house. “What then?”
“Be your age! There are no talking wolves!”
“But if there were?”
“Interview it on the telly, I expect,” said his mother sarcastically. “Ask it what it thinks of the world economic situation. Really, Marcus, how should I know? I suppose they’d lock it up in a laboratory, and do tests on it. What stupid ideas you have! Talking wolves! It’ll be fairies and hobgoblins next.”
She went clicking away up the pavement on her high heels. Marcus grinned to himself. “Just shows what you know,” he said.
* * *
Next door, Lucie was still eating her breakfast. Naturally, she had no idea that Marcus was plotting. Instead, she was thinking about the picture she was going to do at school, and how she and Fang were planning to go looking for more conkers together afterwards.
She hummed to herself as she spooned up her cornflakes. Her parents were both listening to the news on the radio, but Lucie did not pay much attention until Dad suddenly choked on his tea.
“Well, what do you know,” he said, when he’d stopped spluttering. “That’s old Professor Pike they’re talking about — Professor Pike who lives next door!”
“Do you really think it’s the same one?” asked Mum.
“Must be!” said Dad. “Hush!”
They all listened hard, even Lucie, but they had missed most of it. “….awarded for distinguished contributions to scientific research,” said the announcer. “And now, moving on to the sports results…”
“Must be a brainy old bird,” said Dad.
“Are you sure it’s the same Professor Pike?” asked Mum.
“But what was it about?” asked Lucie.
“They just said our Professor Pike has been awarded a Gold Medal,” Dad said. “For distinguished scientific research. I think it’s the same one. Rather good to think we live next door to a Gold Medal Winner. Wish they’d said what kind of scientific research it was — wonder if it had anything to do with computers —” Dad finished munching his toast and slipped the crust to Fang, who crunched it whole.
“I wish you wouldn’t feed Wolfie at table,” said Mum. She gazed at Fang. “I must say she is looking very well. Wonderful, glossy coat she has.”
“It’s that vegetarian dog food,” Dad said. “Full of vitamins.”
As she left for school with Fang, Lucie found herself gazing at the house next door with new curiosity. It was a very odd-looking house. It had a high wrought-iron gate with gateposts with gargoyles on top, and it was surrounded with thick holly bushes and pine trees. But she could just make out two very high, twisty chimneys, and a turret poking up on the corner.
“Looks more like a house for a ghost, than a scientist,” Lucie said to Fang. “I wonder if Professor Pike does experiments in there? I wonder if he mixes up chemicals in test tubes. Imagine if one of them exploded…”
It was at this moment that Marcus jumped out from behind a gatepost. “Hah!” he yelled. “Gotcha!”
“Eek!” squeaked Lucie, jumping backwards. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Waiting for you,” said Marcus. “And that animal you’re talking to. Oh yes — I heard you — so no point denying it. But it can’t talk you know, Lucie, however much you go wittering on.” Marcus paused a few moments, staring at her with narrowed eyes. “Or can it?”
“What do you mean?” asked Lucie. She felt like a hand had taken hold of her stomach, and was squeezing it hard.
“Nothing,” said Marcus. “Of course, it’s ridiculous to think that a dog might talk.” He paused. “About as ridiculous as thinking it might not even be a dog.” He paused again. “That it might be a WOLF.”
Lucie said not a word. But a wave of red swept across her cheeks. She dared not look at Fang.
“Ridiculous, of course,” Marcus said. “Only if it were true…well, that would be interesting, wouldn’t it? I wonder what would happen then? If people found out? I expect they would give the wolf to a scientist to study in their laboratory. Maybe to Professor Pike. Because I happen to know that Professor Pike isn’t the kind of scientist who studies chemicals in test tubes. Mum mentioned it once. Professor Pike studies animals.” He paused again. “Cuts them up into little pieces I expect…”
Lucie gave a cry. Then she flew at Marcus. But before she could punch him in the middle of his smug, spiteful face, as she badly wanted to do, Fang grabbed the bottom of her skirt with her teeth and pulled her back.
Lucie swallowed, and tried to stay calm.
“What d’you want, Marcus?” she asked, from between gritted teeth.
“Meet me after school today. Between the gates and the After School Club. And bring that thing with you.” He pointed at Fang.
“She’s not a thing!”
Marcus shrugged.
“What if I don’t?” said Lucie.
“Oh, I think you will. Unless you want everyone to know what I know about that DOG of yours. Beginning with Mr Dundas.” Mr Dundas was the school Head Teacher.
Without waiting for an answer, Marcus turned and made off down the street, whistling.
“Thanks for stopping me hitting him,” said Lucie in a shaky voice. “It wouldn’t have helped.”
“He’d just have hit you back,” said Fang, “and he’s stronger than you. Then I probably would have bitten him, even though I promised I wouldn’t —”
“It would have only caused more trouble,” Lucie agreed. “We’ll just have to meet him. I wonder what he wants?”
“No good I expect. But I’ll be with you,” said Fang.
That was some comfort, anyway.