Harriet stared at the brooch and the book on her bedside table. Bridge to Terebithia had been published in 1977 – twenty years before Harriet was born, but it didn’t feel like an old book when she read it. It was about a boy whose best friend drowned in a flooded stream. At first, the boy didn’t believe his friend was really dead, and Harriet understood that. She knew why someone had given it to her – somebody who knew about Toby.
When she went to bed that night, she held the brooch in her hand for a while. “Tell me where you’ve come from,” she whispered, “tell me in a dream.” She put it by the book and snuggled down …
She dreamed she was with the boy in the book. The boy looked like Toby and she felt deeply happy. He pointed to a stream running through some trees at the bottom of a slope. “That’s where it happened,” he said, and his eyes filled with tears. Harriet saw something glinting in a branch across the stream. She scrambled down for a closer look.
“Don’t go down there!” shouted the boy. “It’s slippery!”
But Harriet kept going. She held on to overhanging branches until she was near enough to see that it was the brooch, caught in some twigs. She reached to pluck it off. At that moment, Gus and Max ran out of the trees on the opposite bank, barking excitedly. Harriet looked up – and lost her footing. She fell towards the stream.
She woke with a thumping heart – but the barking kept on. She recognised Gus and Max immediately, but not the other dog. She climbed out of bed and went to the window. On the lawn below, in the light from the street lamp, stood Gus and Max – and Honey! They’d found her! She leant out of the window. “I’m coming down,” she called softly. She pulled her clothes on over her pyjamas and picked up her shoes. Creeping out on to the landing, she listened. The light was off in her parents’ room and she could hear them breathing. Better take my torch, she thought.
She went downstairs, hardly breathing for fear of making them creak. She let herself out the back door and put on her shoes. The dogs trotted round the corner to find her. Harriet’s heart filled with happiness.
“Honey, Honey,” she murmured as she stroked her. “How’s your paw?” She turned to Gus and Max. “You are so clever,” she said, “where did you find her?” Her mind was racing. Where could she put Honey for the rest of the night? How could she convince her to stay there? Would her parents still be willing for Honey to be her dog?
Then she became aware that something was wrong. The dogs were whining and nudging her with their noses. They walked around her restlessly, not wanting to be patted any more. Gus gave several short barks and moved towards the gateway.
“What is it?” asked Harriet. “Do you want me to follow you?”
Honey bumped the back of her legs and Harriet moved towards Gus. She felt worried about going anywhere without telling her parents, specially so late at night. Should she wake them? But she didn’t think they’d understand that the dogs wanted Harriet to follow them. But where to? It was dark and damp. She didn’t want any more adventures. She hesitated at the gate. Gus barked again – urgently. There was an answering bark from Brutus, and Honey yelped and moved closer to Max. Why’s she scared? wondered Harriet.
The three dogs trotted on to the road and set off at a brisk pace. I have to trust them, Harriet thought. There’s something they want me to see. I’m safe with them. She ran to catch up.
They kept to the side of the road, finding places to duck into when cars passed them. Harriet could see that Gus and Max had done this often. As they trotted along the main road and turned the corner into Ngaiwi Street, Gus barked from time to time and was answered by other dogs.
At the far end of the street he stopped by a large bush, panting heavily. Please turn left, Harriet thought. I don’t want to go up Bell Road again.
“I hope we’re not too late,” Gus said to Girl. “It’s a long time since we left the Old House.”
“Harriet woke up pretty quickly,” said Girl. “She was out in no time.”
“She’s brave,” said Max. “Humans, specially young ones, don’t roam round at night like we do. From now on it gets spooky – and we don’t know what we’ll find.”
“What are you three talking about?” said Harriet. The dogs wagged their tails and licked her.
“OK, let’s go,” said Gus and they turned up the road towards the Old House.
Harriet was filled with dread. The last time she’d walked up this road it had led to trouble. She didn’t know whether it was safer in the light from the street lamps, or in the shadows. Something rustled in the undergrowth. She shone her torch and two eyes gleamed. She squeaked and stopped. Gus stood beside her. She held on hard to his collar with a trembling hand.
“Don’t give up now, Harriet,” said Gus softly, “we’re in this together. It’ll be all right.”
Girl licked her knees. “You’re fantastic, Harriet,” she said. “I’ll be proud to be your dog.”
Max thought of his warm kennel and tried to look intrepid.
Still holding on to Gus, Harriet found the courage to start off again. She almost knew what the dogs were saying to her – she could feel it. It must be important for them to have brought her here at night. Even when they turned off into the muddy drive, she kept going. And when they turned the bend, and there was the house lit up in the front, she tightened her grip on Gus’s collar – but she didn’t stop.
The worst part for Harriet that night was what came next. With Gus, Max and Honey beside her, she walked up the front steps of the house, pushed the front door open and stepped inside.
She gripped her torch. “Is anyone there?” she called in a wobbly voice.
There was a groan, and a faint voice: “In here.”
Honey trotted towards it. She turned into a room and yapped. The others followed. On the floor lay an old woman. She fixed her eyes on Harriet.
“Help,” she whispered, and closed her eyes.
Harriet didn’t feel frightened any more. It was up to her to get help. Although the old lady seemed to be breathing without any trouble, Harriet tilted her head further back in case her throat was blocked. She thought the old lady must be cold and thirsty and had probably broken something – one of her feet seemed to be pointing in the wrong direction. She looked around for a blanket and pillow, which she found in a bedroom, noticing, also, a phone on a table next to the bed. Water first, she thought, and found a bathroom with a glass in it. She filled it up, and returned to the old woman. She placed the blanket over her and the pillow under her head.
“Would you like to rinse out your mouth?” she asked. “I don’t think you should swallow anything, though.”
The old woman raised her head and Harriet helped her to take a sip. She spat the water back into the glass before resting her head again. That would be enough, thought Harriet. People who have had an accident aren’t supposed to eat or drink, she remembered from the first aid course at school.
Then Harriet picked up the phone and rang 111. She asked for an ambulance and explained the situation. “I can’t give you an exact address,” she said, “but it’s a very old house at the end of an overgrown drive on the left off Bell Road, at the end of Ngaiwi Street.” She gave them her name and the number on the telephone.
Next she rang her parents. Her father answered. When he had got over the surprise of hearing Harriet on the phone in the middle of the night, he listened carefully. They’d be there in no time at all, he said.
Harriet found a kitchen. She filled a bowl with water for Honey, Max and Gus. After that, there was nothing to do except sit beside the old lady, with the dogs lying next to her. The old woman lay with her eyes closed, moaning from time to time. Harriet held her hand and explained the ambulance was on its way.
First to arrive were her parents. Her mother gave her a big hug and said, “Well done, Harry.” Her father looked as though he was getting rather tired of Harriet having adventures. Harriet told them what she’d done so far. They bent over the old woman and explained who they were, but she lay still with her eyes closed.
“We’ll have to save the whole story till later,” Harriet’s father said, as the sound of a vehicle and a flashing red light filled the room.
They went out on the verandah and watched the ambulance manoeuvre as close to the steps as possible. A man and woman got out. They were wearing green and yellow parkas with reflecting stripes which shone in the semi-darkness. The woman came over to them and smiled:
“I’m Diana Anderson, and this is Rick Brown,” she said. “Can you show us where the patient is, please?”
Harriet led the way into the house.
The ambulance officers crouched down by the old woman. They introduced themselves as they set about measuring her blood pressure and taking her pulse. They were quiet and kind as they asked her name and other questions and continued with their examination.
“Who found Mrs Bell?” asked the man.
“I did,” said Harriet, and she told him what had happened.
“You did all the right things,” said the man when Harriet finished. “Mrs Bell is lucky to have been found by such clever dogs and such a sensible girl. It must have been scary coming here in the middle of the night.”
The woman was holding a blue canister attached to a mask.
“We’re going to be putting you on a stretcher in a minute, Mrs Bell, and we think you should have some pain relief first. She placed the mask in the old lady’s hand. “You can breathe in as much gas as you need. When you’re ready, we’ll lift you on to the stretcher.”
The man went back to the ambulance and opened the rear doors to get a stretcher. Harriet watched, wide-eyed, as he pulled the yellow stretcher towards him along its silver track. As it slid out on to the drive, its legs unfolded automatically, turning it into a narrow bed on wheels. Harriet’s father helped to carry it up the steps and the man wheeled it inside. He placed it beside the old woman and lowered it.
“We’re going to stabilise you first by holding your legs firm with bandages,” explained the woman, and she bound the old lady’s legs together.
“Now, if you’re ready, we’ll lift you on to the stretcher,” said the man.
Mrs Bell nodded her head.
Harriet held her breath. How much would it hurt? But the two officers lifted her quickly and deftly and the old woman only grunted. They covered her with a blanket, strapped her on, raised the stretcher and wheeled it out to the verandah. Lifting it down the steps, they slid it smoothly back inside the ambulance and closed the doors.
Harriet was fascinated with the way they did their job.
“Well, Harriet,” said the woman. “You’ve done a good night’s work here.”
The officers said goodbye and drove away. By then, Harriet had begun to feel shivery.
“We need to get you home, young lady,” said her father.
Harriet looked at her parents. “I can’t leave Honey behind,” she said.
“Ah,” said her mother, “so this is Honey.”
Harriet picked Honey up. “I think Mrs Bell has been feeding her.”
“OK,” said her father, “everyone into the car.”
He shooed them out, turned off the lights and closed the front door. They stopped to let Gus and Max off on their way. Harriet held tightly to Honey because she felt very cold. Occasionally Honey wriggled free and licked Harriet’s face.
Harriet felt terribly pleased to be home. They all went into the kitchen where her mother made hot drinks and even found some leftover fried rice for Honey, which Honey loved, spices and all. Harriet told them more about what had happened, but her eyes got heavier and heavier. 2.45, said the clock.
“I’m not sure who should be tied up,” said Harriet’s father, “you or Honey. You’re both escape artists.”
But by the time Harriet’s mother had put a hot-water bottle in her bed and tucked her in, Harriet, with Honey next to her, was sound asleep. Neither of them had the slightest intention of escaping.