DANIELLE DOESN’T KNOW anything about her dad. She knows she has one, but that’s all. When she asks about him her mum just shakes her head and sighs and says, ‘I’ll tell you some time.’ But she never does.
‘I don’t think I mind not having one,’ she told Jenny. ‘But I really mind not knowing. It’s as if there was a bit of me missing. A sort of hole.’
‘Why won’t she tell you?’ said Jenny.
‘I don’t know. I think she really wants to, but she can’t bear to talk about it,’ said Danielle.
‘And I’ve got too many dads,’ said Jenny. ‘It isn’t fair.’
She has two. There’s the one she lives with, because he’s married to her mum. He’s called Stephen, and she gets along with him fine.
And there’s her Other Dad, who’s her real father, so she does her best with him when he comes to take her for a visit, though she knows quite well he’d much rather be out fishing, or doing judo. He’s a black belt, which means he’s really good, Jenny says.
Still, visits aren’t much fun for either of them, which is why Jenny asked if she could bring Danielle along next time. And Chuck, of course.
‘Provided it isn’t going to be sick in my car,’ he said.
‘Of course she won’t,’ said Jenny. ‘Chuck’s very good about cars.’
She was guessing. Danielle’s mum can’t afford a car, so Chuck had never been in one since she came from the breeder. She’d been a puppy then, so not very good about anything.
They arranged to meet outside Jenny’s house on Sunday morning. Just as they were getting to the gate a car drew up.
Chuck thinks most cars are harmless. Only a few of them make coming-to-get-you noises, a tyre which goes swish-swish, or a rattly fender, or a squeak, or something. This seemed to be one of the harmless ones until, just when they were alongside it …
BAAARRRP!
Even Danielle jumped.
Chuck hit the end of her lead so hard that she almost pulled Danielle over. And then, just when Danielle was getting her balance …
BAAAARRRRP!!
Usually hitting the end of her lead once is enough for Chuck. It seems to jerk her out of her panic so that she can just sit there, tremble, tremble, tremble, until she decides that the coming-to-get-you thing must have missed, or taken a wrong turning, or something. But at the second hoot she threw a real wobbly, plunging and threshing against the lead like she used to do when she was a puppy, so that Danielle had to haul her in and pick her up and hold her until she could sense the panic ebbing away.
The driver got out and stood by the car, looking at Jenny’s house and then at his wristwatch. He was a stocky, red-faced man with sandy hair, going a bit bald. He was wearing a baggy green and purple jersey. He didn’t seem to have noticed what was happening to Danielle and Chuck.
After a bit he leaned into the car.
BAAARRRP!
Chuck gave a violent squirm, but even when she’s in a panic she knows that as long as brave Danielle is holding her tight, nothing really bad can happen, so after that one squirm she just huddled there, tremble, tremble, tremble.
Jenny came running out of the house.
‘Hi, Dad,’ she said. ‘Hi, Danielle. Hi, Chuck. I was just putting my shoes on. Dad, this is Danielle. And Chuck. This is Dad.’
She spoke in a quick, bright gabble, trying to pretend nothing was wrong.
‘Hello, there,’ said the man. ‘That animal had better not throw up in my car.’
Danielle was tempted to say she wasn’t sure, because then perhaps she wouldn’t have to go. She didn’t like Jenny’s Other Dad at all, so far. But she decided it wouldn’t be fair on Jenny.
‘She hasn’t had anything to eat,’ she said. ‘And I’ve got lots of newspaper and plastic bags.’
In fact Chuck had the best of the journey, because she settled onto Danielle’s lap, where nothing bad could happen to her even in a whippet-eating car, and went to sleep. Danielle sat in the back so that Jenny could talk to her Other Dad.
Danielle spent the journey being scared. Jenny’s Other Dad drove very fast. If there was another car in front of him he got right up close to it and flashed his lights and swore at the driver until it got out of his way. Jenny chatted and prattled but Danielle could tell she wasn’t having a good time either.
Jenny’s Other Dad lived in a one-storey brick house near the edge of another town. There was lawn all round, and a climbing-frame and a swing, and a caravan parked against the hedge. He had a wife, whom Jenny called Mary, and twin boys, Dick and Derek, about four. Mary was almost-fat, with smile-dimples, but she was busy getting dinner ready and stopping the boys fighting, so Danielle and Jenny took Chuck out onto the lawn and fed her, and then gave her a walk round the block.
‘Dad’s in a mood,’ said Jenny. ‘He’s usually better than this.’
The mood seemed to get worse. He yelled at the twins for behaving the way small boys do behave, wriggling and wanting to play with Chuck and acting up in front of the visitors, and between yelling he griped at Mary as if it was her fault.
After a bit of this she said, ‘Why don’t you take the girls out to the canal this afternoon? You could do a bit of fishing and they could take the doggie for a walk along the canal.’
‘Oh, yes,’ said Jenny at once. ‘That would be great.’
‘All the spaces will be gone,’ said Jenny’s Other Dad, but he cheered up, gobbled the rest of his food and rushed off to get his fishing gear together. Jenny and Danielle offered to help with the washing-up, but Mary said, ‘No thanks. You’re much more use getting that great lummock out from under my feet.’
The canal was a few miles away along twisty lanes. Jenny’s Other Dad went whizzing round the corners as if there couldn’t possibly be anything coming the other way. There was, twice, and he had to jam on his brakes and screech to a stop. Then he made rude gestures at the other drivers as he went by.
They came to a humpy bridge with cars parked along by it, and got out. Jenny’s Other Dad got his fishing gear out and led the way down beside the bridge on to the towpath. The canal was very still, and stretched away between tall hedges. The path was firm and dry and wide enough for two people, with a steep, narrow bank between it and the water. Every few yards along the bank there was a man sitting on a stool, with a couple of rods poking out over the water beside him. The rods were on special stands, so that he didn’t need to hold them. Some of the men had huge umbrellas up over them, to keep the sun off. Or the rain, perhaps. Hard to tell, as it wasn’t a particularly sunny or rainy day.
Anyway, Chuck didn’t like the umbrellas at all. The first one they came to, she hit the end of her lead with a bang, so Danielle picked her up and carried her past the rest.
‘Too many blanking idiots down this end,’ said Jenny’s Other Dad. ‘We’ll take a look round the bend.’
The canal curved, and just beyond the bend there was a fence across the path with a stile, with a footpath-sign pointing ahead. But there was also a notice saying ‘NO FISHING BEYOND THIS POINT’.
‘Blank that for a lark,’ said Jenny’s Other Dad.
He climbed the stile and got out his stool and started to get his gear out. Danielle put Chuck down and let her jump the stile a few times, for fun.
‘OK, kids,’ said Jenny’s Other Dad. ‘Got a watch, Jenny? Be back in a couple of hours. Don’t get lost. You’ll be OK if you stick to the canal.’
So Jenny and Danielle and Chuck set off. When they looked back before the next bend, Jenny’s Other Dad had his rods set up and his Walkman over his ears and was just settling down to fish. They walked on round the curve.
‘I wish Stephen was my real dad,’ said Jenny.
She seemed a bit depressed, so of course Danielle was too. The canal made it worse. It seemed so empty, as if there was nobody around for miles except Jenny and her and Chuck. It made her feel nervous.
Chuck didn’t feel nervous. She thought the canal was lovely, and full of thrilling new smells. She strutted ahead with her ears pricked, looking as if she was certain something to chase was going to pop out of the hedge right in front of her.
They came to a gate, with a footpath-sign pointing off across the fields. The towpath went on ahead, though, so they did what they’d been told and stuck to it, but then, only a couple of bends further on they came to a place where the canal and the towpath went into a tunnel.
They stopped at the entrance and looked. The other end was a tiny, pale blob. There seemed to be a lot of darkness in between.
‘I don’t think Chuck’s going to like this,’ said Danielle.
(Chuck sometimes has her uses.)
‘Don’t let’s make her,’ said Jenny quickly. ‘There’s that other path. Perhaps we were meant to go that way. To get round the tunnel, I mean.’
So they went back. The path was quite clear, running slantwise across the field. The gate was tied with a piece of orange cord and looked wonky at the other end, so Danielle patted the top bar and said, ‘Hup, Chuck.’
Chuck eyed the bar. It was higher than anything she’d ever jumped.
‘Come on, Chuck,’ said Danielle. ‘You can do it. Hup.’
OK, thought Chuck. If Danielle says so.
She gathered herself on to her haunches and sprang, got her front feet on to the bar, scrabbled over and leaped lightly down. The girls climbed after her, and started off across the field.
‘Ugh, cowpats,’ said Jenny.
‘Oh, oh, cows,’ said Danielle.
The cows were black and white, over on the other side of the field, a bit away from the path. Some of them were standing up and eating, but most of them were lying down.
‘They don’t look very big,’ said Jenny. ‘I think they’re just calves.’
‘We’ll be all right if we’ve got Chuck with us,’ said Danielle. ‘Cows don’t like dogs. I saw a little dog chasing cows all over the place on Emmerdale.’
(They were both right, and both wrong. These cows were half-grown heifers. Jenny and Danielle were town kids, so they didn’t know how inquisitive heifers can be. And cows really don’t like dogs. It’s an instinct from long, long ago, when cows were still wild, and the only dogs around were wolves. If you’re a wild cow, and a wolf happens along, the best thing you can do is get together with the rest of your herd and charge it down. Jenny and Danielle didn’t know that.)
They started off along the path. When they were about a third of the way across the field one of the cows looked round and stared at them.
‘Watch it, cow,’ said Danielle. ‘When Chuck saves the universe and I get my Big Mac, you might be it.’
‘She’ll be a very old cow by then,’ said Jenny.
Now several of the cows were staring at them.
The lying-down ones were heaving to their feet.
All staring …
Beginning to move …
Fanning out …
‘We’d better go back,’ said Jenny.
‘Walk, don’t run,’ said Danielle.
They turned and walked, fast as they could, but looking back over their shoulders they saw that it wasn’t fast enough. The cows were trotting, heads down, shoulder to shoulder, like a moving wall.
The girls’ nerve broke, and they ran.
It still wasn’t fast enough. Danielle could hear the drumming hooves. She tripped, fell, let go of the lead …
Just in time. As she scrambled to her feet the cows came thundering past. None of them touched her. Or Jenny, who was still running along the path. It was Chuck they were after, and Chuck had raced away as soon as her lead was free, swerving off to one side. She was far faster than the cows, of course, streaking away …
Danielle and Jenny raced for the gate, climbed it, and turned, gasping.
‘Chuck!’ yelled Danielle. ‘Chuck!’
For a moment she couldn’t see her, but she knew where she must be by the way the cows were charging. Yes, there she was, a small, fawn blob, racing across the middle the the field …
‘Chuck!’
Perhaps she heard, or perhaps she just swerved that way. Danielle climbed on to the middle bar of the gate, balanced herself and waved and called, and now Chuck had seen her and came racing towards her.
But the cows came too, cutting the corner …
‘Hup!’ cried Danielle. ‘Hup!’
But Chuck couldn’t. She’d forgotten how. All she knew was running. She scuttled along the fence, panting, tongue lolling out, looking for a hole.
The cows were coming.
‘Run, Chuck! Run!’
She’d heard them too, and was racing away along the hedge.
Off they charged, after her.
‘Get the gate open!’ shouted Danielle. ‘We’ll let her through and shut it before they come.’
They scrabbled with the orange cord, undid it at last, and heaved the gate open. It swivelled half sideways on its wonky hinges, but Danielle hardly noticed. She ran out into the field and looked for Chuck.
The cows were charging in towards the corner. And there was Chuck, trapped, right in the corner, scuttling to and fro, looking for a hole.
‘Chuck!’ screamed Danielle. ‘Chuck!’
And this time she did hear her. Definitely, Danielle said afterwards.
The cows were almost on her, but she looked towards Danielle’s voice and ran straight at them, jinked through a gap and came streaking across the grass.
The cows turned to follow.
Danielle raced for the gate, but Chuck was there first. With a gasp of relief Danielle saw her whip through the gap.
She ran to help Jenny with the gate.
It wouldn’t shut.
It was too heavy for them, and it had jammed itself on its hinges somehow.
They were still wrestling with it when the herd came streaming through.
Aghast, panting, they stood and watched the cows thundering down the towpath after Chuck. They disappeared round the bend.
‘Oh, oh,’ said Jenny, and pointed.
There was a man running across the field, shouting. There was no point in running away, so they waited.
He was a big man, red-faced, panting, furious.
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing, letting a dog loose in a field of heifers?’ he yelled.
‘She wasn’t loose,’ said Danielle. ‘The cows charged us and I fell over.’
‘And we were on the path,’ said Jenny.
‘Out of the way,’ snapped the man.
They stood clear and he lifted the gate bodily and heaved it right open, and then propped it so that it blocked the towpath, and when he fetched the cows back they’d have nowhere to go except into the field.
Without even looking at the girls he marched off down the canal.
They followed. Soon they began to hear noises of snorting and trampling and splashing, and when they came round the bend they saw a lot of cows milling around by the fence with the stile.
Two of the cows were in the canal.
So was Jenny’s Other Dad.
There was no sign of Chuck.
Jenny’s Other Dad had been peacefully fishing, and he hadn’t heard any of the rumpus because of his Walkman. He hadn’t even noticed when Chuck had come racing past and jumped over the stile.
The first he knew was when a mass attack of cows came hurtling down on him and barged him into the river. Two of the cows had fallen in with him and the rest were trampling around on his fishing gear.
It was perfectly obvious what he’d been doing.
Now the big man really blew his top. He yelled and swore at the cows and drove them back up the path. The two in the water got frantic about being left behind by their friends and managed to scrabble up the bank. Jenny and Danielle gave Jenny’s Other Dad a heave out, and then Danielle climbed the stile and went to look for Chuck.
She found her a little way down the path, panting with exhaustion and staring at a really menacing umbrella. She certainly wasn’t going past that without Danielle to look after her. She wasn’t worried about the cows any more. They must have taken a wrong turning.
Danielle picked her up and hugged her with relief. She could feel the little heart hammering away, but Chuck licked Danielle’s face in a glad-to-see-you-where-have-you-been way and lay there, panting.
Danielle waited. She expected the other two to collect the fishing gear and leave before the man with the cows got back, but they didn’t, so she went cautiously round the bend to see what was keeping them.
She found Jenny sitting on the stile, Jenny’s Other Dad standing in the path with his arms folded and his fishing gear beside him, and the man with the cows striding back towards him.
As soon as he was in earshot, the man with the cows started to bawl Jenny’s Other Dad out for fishing the wrong side of the fence. Jenny’s Other Dad bawled right back at the man for keeping heifers in a field with a public footpath where kids might want to go with their dog.
They were both furious. They both knew a lot of language. The man with the cows was much bigger, but Jenny’s Other Dad was the better bawler-out.
He was the tops.
He said things which would have got up anyone’s nose.
They got up the big man’s nose all right.
He lost his cool completely and took a swing at Jenny’s Other Dad.
Jenny’s Other Dad somehow swayed out of the way, grabbed the man’s wrist as it swung past, spun himself round and bent and flipped, and the big man was flying through the air with his arms flailing.
He landed in the canal with a really major splash.
‘That’s it, then, kids,’ said Jenny’s Other Dad.
He picked up his fishing gear, climbed the stile and led the way back down the path.
He was soaked. His fishing had been spoilt. His gear was all trampled, but he drove quietly home, humming to himself. Then he had a shower and changed and came back beaming and said he was going to take them all out to a McDonald’s for a Big Mac.
‘You don’t have to tell your mum,’ whispered Jenny while they were getting into the car.
Danielle wasn’t even tempted. It wasn’t just cheating on her mum. But suppose Chuck did save the universe – somehow, one day – then it would spoil everything if she’d already had her Big Mac in a sneaky kind of way.
‘I’ll tell him I’m a vegetarian,’ she whispered.
‘You had fish for lunch,’ whispered Jenny.
‘Fish doesn’t count,’ whispered Danielle. ‘Karen’s a vegetarian, and she has fish.’
‘I hope he doesn’t mind,’ whispered Jenny.
But Jenny’s Other Dad only laughed when she asked for a salad, and ordered Big Macs for everyone else. He told Mary everything that had happened as if it was all a wonderful joke, and being barged into the canal by the cows was part of the joke too.
‘Was that judo you did to him?’ asked Danielle.
‘Judo it was, kid,’ said Jenny’s Other Dad. ‘You ought to try it.’
‘Mum keeps talking about it,’ said Danielle. ‘She says women ought to be able to look after themselves, but she hasn’t got around to doing anything yet.’
‘You ask my friend Perry,’ said Jenny’s Other Dad. ‘Don’t wait for your ma. Do it yourself and tell her she can come along if she wants. Perry’s an A-one teacher, and he can’t be more than a bus ride from where you are. I’ll give him a call when we get home, tell him you’ll be ringing. You too, Jenny, and I’ll pay for the pair of you. Right?’
When they got back, he went into the house to fetch them Perry’s number before driving Jenny and Danielle home. While he was doing this Mary said in a quiet voice, ‘I want to tell you something, Jenny. Your dad’s a really nice, sweet guy. Only he gets a lot of hassle in his job, and he can’t blow his top because part of the job is to stand the aggro. You couldn’t have done him a better turn than letting those cows push him into the canal, so he could take it out on the farmer.
‘And another thing. If ever you’re in trouble – doesn’t matter if it’s all your fault, doesn’t matter if you’ve been really silly or bad – he’ll be on your side, no question. Just try and remember that next time you find him in an iffy mood, like he was this morning.’
‘Thank you, Mary,’ said Jenny. ‘I’ll remember.’
