I’d imagined that, after my late night at the cinema, I’d take it easy the next morning. Oliver and Sarah were grown-up humans. They could probably take it from here themselves. I deserved a morning off.
But apparently the Palace had other ideas for me.
‘Come on, you lot,’ a footman said, as he opened the door. ‘Quick breakfast this morning, and then we’ve got to get you all on the road.’
‘Where are we going?’ I asked Willow, while Vulcan was eating his breakfast.
Willow gave a lazy shrug. ‘Hard to say. We’re always in high demand, you know. Could be we’re needed for an event somewhere in the Palace, or outside. Road suggests outside, I suppose.’
‘Outside?’ That was where I needed to be. But only a very specific part of outside – the part where the Walkers lived.
I had a feeling that wasn’t where they’d be taking us.
‘Maybe She is back,’ Candy mused. ‘Or maybe we’re being taken to wherever She is! Normally She always takes us with Her.’
‘Except that Vulcan had that upset stomach,’ Willow said. ‘And She had to go and collect the New Dog.’
They all looked at me – the wrong new dog – then.
‘So maybe we’re all being taken to join them now?’ I asked. That sounded bad. That sounded like I might be about to be outed – and if they kicked me out on the street wherever the Queen was, I might never find my way home, and the Walkers would have no idea where to look for me.
Suddenly, I’d lost my appetite for breakfast.
I spent the morning panicking. We were loaded into a car in the most comfortable transport crates I’d ever experienced, before the car started pulling away from the Palace.
I put my paws up against the wall of the crate, and peered out of the car window through the bars. From the front, the Palace looked even more impressive – and familiar. I could almost imagine Amy and Jack and Claire standing out there by the railings, waving at our car as we passed.
But, of course, they weren’t there.
As the Palace began to disappear into the distance, I settled back down in the crate. If I was going to be out on the streets of some strange town by this afternoon, I might as well try to get some rest before then.
I might need all my energy just to survive.
‘So, Henry, where do you think we’re going?’ Candy pressed up against the side of her crate to talk to me through the mesh wire. She was practically panting with excitement at the idea of a day trip.
‘I wish I knew,’ I replied.
Outside the window, the streets of London passed us by. Shop windows, stations, a whole world I was no longer free to explore.
Then, suddenly, the car came to a stop. ‘We’re here,’ Candy whispered.
‘But where’s here?’ Vulcan pulled himself up to look out of the window, but the view didn’t seem to give him any answers.
I wished Sarah had been allowed to come with us. Or Oliver. Neither of them would let me be left in the middle of nowhere, all alone.
A nameless Palace staff member, dressed in an ordinary black suit and red tie, pulled open the back of the car, and we were all clipped onto leads and helped out. I glanced around, curiously. As far as I could tell, we were on just another London street. And there was no sign at all of Her Majesty.
For now, I was pretty sure that was a good thing.
‘Come on, then,’ the man said, and tugged across the pavement, towards a door that was painted a deep blue.
Above the door was a sign. I couldn’t read the words, but the picture of a dog in a bath tub were pretty clear.
Oh no. This was worse than even I’d dreaded.
We’d been brought to the Puppy Parlour.
Amy had tried taking me to our local Puppy Parlour a few times when I was smaller. When she didn’t know me so well. The one near us wasn’t half as nice as the parlour the Palace dogs used, though.
The moment we were inside, the person running the parlour flipped a sign on the door over – presumably to show that the place was now closed to any other customers. I couldn’t imagine that the Queen would want her dogs being primped and clipped alongside everyday dogs – or that Willow, Vulcan and Candy would stand for it.
‘Hi, Quentin,’ the owner said, smiling widely. ‘And hi, you four!’
‘Thanks for squeezing us in today, Jasmine,’ Quentin – the Palace staff member – said. He looked like a Quentin, I decided. I’d known a dog in the local park called Tiddles once, and he’d looked anything but – being a giant, hulking, slobbering Doberman. But Quentin was definitely a Quentin. ‘I know we’d normally arrange for you to come to us, but this was a bit last minute, for the photo shoot.’
‘It’s no problem at all,’ Jasmine said. ‘Always a pleasure to pamper Her Majesty’s prize pooches.’
‘Great. Well, I’ll just leave you to it?’ Quentin asked.
Jasmine nodded. ‘Give us a couple of hours, and these four will be sweet-smelling, coiffured and ready for their close-ups.’
Hmm. I wasn’t sure I liked the sound of this.
‘Don’t worry,’ Candy whispered, as she was led past me by another groomer. ‘You’ll love this. It’s great!’
For Candy, maybe. My experiences of groomers was of soap in my eyes, a rushed clip job, and someone complaining about the state of my nails – or claws, as I preferred to call them.
I should have known, though, that the Palace dogs would get a rather different experience.
Jasmine walked me to my own private room, where a fresh bath was being run. ‘Now, let me see,’ she said, as she perused a shelf full of bottles. ‘What sort of a dog are you? Citrus? Floral? No … woody, I think.’ She plucked one bottle from the middle of hundreds of others, and tipped some of the contents into the bath. A cascade of bubbles shot up immediately, covering the surface of the bath. ‘Don’t worry,’ Jasmine said. ‘We have matching shampoo and conditioner for your coat, too.’
I had to admit, I was rather more eager to hop into this bath than I had been previous ones.
‘Come on then,’ Jasmine said. ‘In you get.’
The water was just the right temperature, and the bubbles were soft and soothing on my skin. I even liked the scent – not too overpowering, unlike the one at the parlour Amy took me to. (After the first few times she gave up and just bathed me at home. Let’s just say I had made my displeasure known.) That one had made me stink of flowers for days, which Sookie had found hilarious.
After the bath, I was dried, groomed and clipped, which was more relaxing than I expected. Then my claws were trimmed, without any comments on the state of them.
Overall, it was a surprisingly pleasant experience.
Which is why I felt a sudden jolt of panic when Quentin, looking over the four of us, nodded and said, ‘Time for our next stop, then.’
‘They said something about a photo shoot,’ Candy said, as we were lifted back into the car. ‘We often get tidied up a little before one of those.’
‘A photo shoot?’ I’d heard the words, of course, but that didn’t mean I had any idea what they entailed. ‘What’s one of them?’
‘Usually, we get taken somewhere with Her, and made to sit around in stupid poses while someone takes our picture,’ Willow explained. ‘Goodness knows where today’s will be.’
Wherever it was, it took us a long time to get there. And I was growing more and more nervous by the second.
If we were going to meet the Queen, that was it for me. I didn’t think my fancy doggy manicure was going to last long out on the streets.
Eventually, the car pulled off the main road we’d been travelling on and started approaching another building. This one looked just as giant as Buckingham Palace, but it was made of grey stone, and had funny bits of building sticking up at the top of the walls.
‘Windsor Castle,’ Vulcan said, happily. ‘I think this is my very favourite of all our homes.’
‘How many do you have?’ I asked, incredulous. I’d assumed that the Palace was more than enough home for three dogs.
Willow frowned. ‘Do you know, I’m not actually sure. Obviously there’s Windsor, and Buckingham Palace.’
‘And Sandringham, and Balmoral,’ Candy put in.
‘Do we still count the one in Ireland?’ Vulcan asked.
‘Hillsborough Castle? Yes, I imagine so,’ Willow said. ‘So that’s how many?’
‘I think we’ve forgotten a couple,’ Candy said.
‘Never mind.’ My head ached just imagining how many Palaces these dogs had the run of. ‘Let’s just say it’s a lot of palaces.’
‘But this one is my favourite,’ Vulcan repeated.
I could see why, I thought, as we pulled up the driveway of Windsor Castle. Vulcan liked to think he was intimidating, the big dog of the Palace. Windsor Castle looked like exactly his sort of place – all threatening grey stone walls and battlements. It looked like a proper castle from one of Jack’s old books on medieval wars and stuff. (He’d gone through a phase of wanting to be a knight when he was eleven. I was his trusty steed.) Of course Vulcan would love it.
Especially if Her Majesty was there, and it meant he got to see the back of me.
The car pulled inside the castle proper, and swung to a stop before a large door. Outside it stood a collection of new people – one carrying a heavy and expensive-looking camera, along with what I assumed were bags of other photography equipment.
Quentin climbed out of the car and shook hands with the new people, before coming round to let us jump down.
‘So, where do you want them, Tessa?’ Quentin asked, as he clipped our leads on.
‘Well, the magazine really wants a full, glossy feature on how Windsor Castle does Christmas. So lots of shots of the decorations inside the castle, and a few of it looking festive and frosty from the outside.’ Tessa, who seemed to be in charge of everything, checked her clipboard. ‘We were thinking some photos of the dogs on the Long Walk would be perfect, as well as some shots of them inside, by the Christmas trees, reflected in the odd bauble, that sort of thing. Maybe even under the mistletoe. In fact, we have a few props we hoped to use …’
One of the men with Tessa came scurrying forward with a large bag, which he held open for her. Tessa reached in, and pulled out a shiny golden crown. Bending her knees, she reached down to place it on my head. ‘What do you think?’
‘Perfect.’ Quentin’s smile was a little weak, I thought. But nothing compared to the glare Vulcan was giving me as Tessa placed a red Santa hat with a fluffy white pom-pom on his head.
‘Great!’ Tessa beamed. ‘Then let’s get started!’
‘It’s just as well Her Majesty isn’t here to see this,’ Quentin muttered under his breath, as he led us into the castle.
Candy and I exchanged a quick look, as I felt my spirits start to soar.
‘She’s not here,’ I said.
‘Looks like.’ Candy beamed at me. ‘Seems your secret is safe for a little longer, Henry.’
Suddenly, this photo shoot seemed like a brilliant idea.
It turns out that posing for photos is kind of boring. The photographer – Juan – spent a lot of time saying, ‘No, no, no!’ when one of us moved out of position (okay, it was usually me. And usually when a particularly sparkly decoration caught my eye). But it was fun to see the inside of Windsor Castle, with its many, many Christmas trees, festive greenery twined everywhere, and the lights.
But the best part was when Tessa, possibly sensing that Juan was close to a breakdown, suggested that we take the shoot outside.
Tessa reached down to straighten my crown (it had a tendency to slip over one ear) as we left the castle walls through a large arch and stepped out into grounds. Ahead, a long, long straight path disappeared into the distance in front of us.
‘I thought maybe the dogs could stretch their legs on the Long Walk for a little while,’ Tessa said to Juan. ‘I’m sure you’ll be able to get some fantastic shots of them frolicking in the gardens.’
Juan didn’t look fully convinced, but he nodded, all the same. Quentin let us off our leads, waved his hands at the Long Walk, and we ran.
Winter was really here now, and even with the sun sparkling overhead in a crisp, clear blue sky, there were shadowed parts of the ground that were still covered in frost. It crunched under my paws in a way that made me smile, even as I shivered.
The Long Walk really was very long. I chased along it, crown slipping, enjoying the freedom of being outside the Palace, even if it was only for the afternoon. Candy ran alongside me, sometimes, looking happier than I’d ever seen her. Her ears flapped in the wind, and she grinned at me as we dashed ahead of Willow and Vulcan who were walking along properly.
All too soon, though, it was time to head back.
Tessa plucked the crown from my head as I climbed back into my crate in the car. I was tired, worn out from racing around the Long Walk, and cold from the frost.
As I circled round to settle down, head on my paws, I heard Vulcan mutter, ‘Well even if She wasn’t here today, She has to come home soon. Then we’ll see.’
I knew he was right. And I knew there was nothing I could do about it.
So instead, I snoozed all the way back to the Palace, dreaming of a world in which I was the king of all I surveyed. Including the kitchens.