Princess Phoebe (5 page)

‘It's all good,' says Frank, dropping his full weight down on to the sofa and scattering the twins, who escape off upstairs.

‘I've come for the greyhound,' he says, just like that.

‘What greyhound?' Dad asks.

‘The one you gave to the girl. She's mine, if you remember. I've been watching her and she's not bad. Agile, as a matter of fact. I'll take her now while she's young and she can train with Martin for a bit. I've got a big night on next week.'

I gasp and grab Princess, holding her close to me. Why had I opened my big mouth? I could have told Frank that Dad got her from somewhere else and he would never have known.

‘You can't have her Frank,' says Dad. ‘She belongs to Ellie now. You said you didn't want her. And you never paid me, if you remember.'

‘Paid you?' says Frank. ‘Paid you? Have you any idea how much your Nick owes me, and he hasn't paid me either. Don't speak to me about money Charlie. I've changed my mind about the dog, that's all.' He takes a bit of rope out of his pocket and stands up. His scar glows red in the flickering light from the telly.

‘Dad!' I scream, ‘he can't take her! She's mine!'

I hang on to Princess for dear life and Dad stands in front of the door, as if to stop Frank before he can leave, but he
can't do a thing against Frank's huge size. Frank pulls off Princess's lovely collar and loops the rope round her neck. He pulls her away from me and pushes past Dad.

‘The world's full of greyhounds,' he says, ‘I'll see if there's a puppy you can have sometime. But make no mistake,' and his voice is hard and scary, ‘this is my dog and she's going to learn to work for me.'

I cry and shout at him, and try to get after him to pull Princess back.

Then Mum stands up and goes after him too.

‘This isn't right!' she says to him, ‘think how Ellie feels. She loves that dog.'

‘The dog's mine, Pearl,' Frank says again, and he drags a shivering Princess to the door and out into the night.

‘I'll be in touch,' I hear him call from the gate. ‘There may yet be some money in it for you Charlie, if she turns out good.'

Dad must have been afraid that I'd run out after Frank's van and get knocked down or something, because he quickly shuts the door behind him. I can't understand why he doesn't put up more of a fight.

‘Sorry love,' he says, ‘but there was nothing I could do.'

I can't believe what's happened. In five minutes I've lost everything. I scream and cry, and kick the door. Even the twins come down to talk to me and are kind for once. David puts his arm round me but I shake him off.

‘Why didn't you
do
something!' I shout at my father. He thinks nothing of stealing other people's pheasants and selling them to his friends, and yet he let that Frank Skally just walk into our house and steal my dog.

I'm sure that if Nick had been at home, he'd have stood up to Frank.

‘How could you
stand
there and let that happen? Why didn't you argue with him Dad? You know she belongs to
me. You're just a big wimp! I'm going to call the police and tell them my dog's been stolen.' I rummage in my pocket for my phone.

‘You'll to do nothing of the sort,' says Dad at once. He looks seriously alarmed. ‘You call the police and Frank will have me in bits. He won't want the police round at his flat. I'm warning you Ellie, that would not be a clever thing to do.'

‘Then why are you so useless!' I yell at him, slam out of the room and stomp upstairs to bed. I can't get my head around the way grown-ups go on. It seems like the bigger and uglier you are, and the more violent, the more you get everything you want. While quiet reasonable people like me, who never get noticed, lose out all the time.

I'm still crying when Nick comes home in the early hours. I hear him park his van and watch for him coming up the stairs. My eyes can hardly see out after all the tears, and my nose feels twice its usual size from all the blowing, but I grab his arm and bring him in to sit on my bed, and tell him what's happened. I beg him to help me get Princess back.

‘I can't get her back for you Ellie,' he says, ‘but I may see her sometimes and be able to tell you how she's getting on. Frank's after me to go out coursing with him over the summer. I know,' he says as he sees my indignant face, ‘but I have no choice because of the money I owe him. He says if I can't pay him I'll have to work for him instead.'

‘So you just do what Frank wants as well?' I say, turning my face to the wall.

‘You don't understand,' says Nick. ‘Frank's got something on most people round here and everyone's scared of him.'

‘But why can't you pay him? You're working, aren't you?'

‘I've had to help Dad out with the rent,' he says, ‘but don't go telling Mum.'

‘Oh,' I say, but I'm not interested in rent. All I can think of is my poor frightened dog wondering why I've abandoned her. I guess Frank will have taken her to Big Lennie's with the rest of his greyhounds.

‘I'll try and see her,' says Nick again, and he leans over and gives me a hug. ‘You be a brave turnip, and now try and get some sleep.'

Of course, I don't sleep. There's no warm dog on the end of my bed, just a duvet with some of her pretty brown hairs squashed onto it. I
have
to get Princess back. Anything else is impossible.

I lie there for hours hating my parents and the twins. They're all pathetic; it will have to be me and Jan.

I get up early so I can get to Jan's house as soon as possible. I stomp around the kitchen end of the room, refusing to look at anyone. Mum hands me Jack and his bottle and asks me, more kindly than usual, whether I will help. But I pass Jack and the bottle straight to David. He and Sam are getting ready to go fishing. They smile at me nervously, and Sam hands me a clean pair of socks.

‘Are you all right Ellie?' Mum asks.

I don't answer but leave by the back door without a word. It's five minutes before I realise I haven't had any breakfast.

Why did none of them stick up for me against Frank? And why aren't they sitting round the table now, trying to think of ways to get Princess back
? I realise that it hasn't occurred to them. They've simply accepted the situation, and want me to do the same.

Well, I won't
.

I ring Jan's doorbell and wait impatiently while she gets dressed and comes downstairs.

‘What's up?' She asks straightaway. It's not that I'm calling early so much as the look of my face.

‘You're all swollen up!'

I burst into tears. ‘Frank's taken Princess.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘He came to the house last night and took her. Put a rope round her neck and dragged her away. He wants her back because she's such a good dog.' This thought sets me crying even more. ‘And my stupid family did nothing to stop him.'

‘We'll rescue her,' Jan says at once.

One of the reasons I love Jan is because she always tries to do something to help. ‘How?' I ask.

‘We need to think,' she says. She opens a packet of Jammy Dodgers and we sit in her house for a while thinking. I'm still sniffling.

‘Nick's going to try and see Princess,' I say, when he next goes out with Frank.'

‘What about going with him?'

‘I've thought of that,' I say, ‘but he'd never take me.'

‘Well, let's start by finding out where Frank's taken Princess.'

‘She'll be with Big Lennie,' I say, ‘I know which estate, but I don't know which house.'

‘Let's go anyway,' she says, ‘come on.' So we put the biscuits in a carrier bag and set off. Not thinking like polar explorers, we forget to check that we've got Jan's phone, or that mine is charged up.

‘We'd better leave Jade behind,' says Jan. People round here are often known more by their dogs than themselves, and we don't want to be noticed.

It's not far to the part of town where I've seen Big Lennie a few times, and we cut through the streets to where
I think he lives. It's hot by now in the sun, and we wish we'd thought to bring water.

The houses on Lennie's estate are built in blocks of eight, all with walls along the backs of their gardens, each one with a high gate. Not impossible to climb, but not easy either. We start by trying some of the latches but most are locked. When we do find one that opens a huge scary woman with her hair in a towel is pegging out washing.

‘Scram!' she shouts, ‘Little sods!'

‘Do you know where there's a man that keeps greyhounds?' I ask, backing away.

‘If I did, would I tell you?' she says. .

We leave, turning back along the fronts of the same row of houses, when a door opens and a girl of about our age sticks her head out of the door.

‘Number 8,' she says, ‘it's in the next row.'

We're about to ask her if she knows Big Lennie when a pink arm appears from nowhere and she's dragged out of view. We hear shouting from inside the house as we shoot off up the alleyway to the next row.

Number 8 has all its curtains drawn. Some are falling down off their rails, drooping from the top but pulled across so it's impossible to see in. We go round to the back gate. Looking at Jan and wondering whether I dare, I try the latch. The gate opens. The back of the house is the same as the front – all dark and the curtains all drawn.

‘Maybe he's out, or away,' I whisper.

Now Jan gets scared. ‘Let's go!' she says. Her face is pale. ‘Maybe we should wait till we
see
him go out or something.'

‘No, we're here now,' I say, ‘and I want to know if my Princess is in that shed. If he comes we can run for it.' I get hold of her hand and pull her after me. We creep up to the shed and I try the door. It opens.

The sight that greets us is terrible. At least ten puppies are lying in the heat on a rough concrete floor. I can't see a bitch or any grown dogs, but the tiny shed window's so dirty that it's difficult to see anything. The puppies hardly notice us, and stay where they are. I'm turning away to leave when a large brown and white greyhound hurls herself at me, her tail wagging furiously.

‘My Princess!' I hug her, and bend down to give her a proper cuddle. I look up to smile at Jan and realise with a jolt that she's disappeared.

In my excitement at finding Princess, I hadn't seen Jan go, but as the puppies begin to shake themselves and move towards the sunlight and fresh air, I see my friend being pulled towards the back of the shed, a grubby hand holding her mouth and preventing her from calling out. She's struggling and kicking like a wild thing.

‘Jan!' I scream, and in a flash I've got after her and am trying to pull Lennie's hands away to free her.

‘Oh, so there are two of you are there?' says Lennie, as he grabs me too with his free arm. ‘Maybe inside the shed is a better place to take a look at you.'

For a skinny little man he's very strong, and within seconds Jan and I are propelled back into the shed, given a shove, and then the door's slammed behind us. It opens again quickly and Princess, who'd been jumping around trying to help, is kicked inside too, together with one small puppy who had managed to get out in to the light.

Jan rubs her arm. ‘He hurt me!' she says, ‘Are you all right?'

‘Have you got your phone?' I ask. I want Nick.

‘No. Where's yours?'

‘Battery's flat,' I say. My hand's trembling as I try my phone, but it won't even light up.

‘Let us out!' we shout, and kick the shed door together.

‘I won't let you out,' barks Lennie. ‘Not till you tell me what you're doing here. Spies, are you? Well you can stay there till your parents miss you.'

In my case that could mean a long time, but hopefully Jan's gran will worry as she's expecting her at the allotment later.

The puppies begin jumping all over us. They must be hoping we've come to save them, but we can't even save ourselves.

Lennie is still outside. We can hear him breathing near the door, listening.

‘We're not spies,' I call out, although my voice wobbles like anything. ‘I just want to see my dog Princess. Frank stole her from me yesterday.' There's a silence, then the shed door opens and Lennie stands blocking the doorway, looking at us.

‘You're Charlie's girl, aren't you? I thought I recognised that face. Family likeness. Not a good thing in your case.'

‘Frank took her,' I say, ignoring his rudeness, ‘I want to see her, that's all. And I want her back.'

‘You're having a laugh, aren't you?' says Lennie. ‘If you're Charlie's daughter you know as well as I do that all the greyhounds in these parts belong to Frank. He's the man. He asked me to look after that young bitch and that's what I'm doing. If he thinks you're angling to get the dog back it'll only be worse for your dad. My advice is, go home and get Charlie to find you a nice spaniel.' He opens the door a bit wider to let us out, holding the dogs back with his foot. ‘You're lucky I know your father,' he says, ‘though I never could stand him. I hear his greyhounds are rubbish these days. Have I heard right?'