“Come on, sweetheart. We really need to get home. Mum wants to give Jessie some Calpol – she thinks she’s got a tooth coming through.”
“Dad, can we stop? I just saw Molly – you know, Rachel’s dog? She’s back there and Rachel’s not here. I think Molly’s lost.”
Dad glanced worriedly up the path. “Are you sure, Anya? This isn’t a good time to stop…”
“I know! But I’m really worried. What if something happens to her? If she goes up the path she could end up on the road.”
Dad sighed. “All right. You go and see if you can get her to come to you. I’ll text your mum and tell her what’s happening.”
Anya dropped her bag of swimming things and raced back through the people wandering along the promenade.
“Molly! Molly!” she cried, looking around for the golden puppy. “She was just here,” she murmured, looking at a blue and white painted beach hut. “I’m sure she was just going past this one.”
But there was no little dog to be seen and Molly didn’t come when Anya called.
“Did you find her?” Dad asked, catching up with Anya.
“No!” she said anxiously. “And I’m sure it was Molly, Dad, I really am. What will I say to Rachel, Zach and Lily? I should have gone after her at once.”
“They’re probably further down the beach somewhere and she’s gone back to them,” Dad said soothingly. “Don’t panic, Anya.”
“But they’re not here,” Anya explained, trying not to let her voice wobble. “I’ve looked. And their mum said they were probably going to an adventure park today. They must have left Molly behind at their cottage and she’s slipped out somehow. I don’t know what to do!”
“Well, at the moment, there isn’t anything we can do. Besides, you might just have mistaken another dog for Molly. There are a lot of dogs on the beach – it’s one of the nice things about Saltmere. I mean, look. That little spaniel over there seems quite like the dog you were playing with yesterday.”
Anya looked over eagerly to where Dad was pointing, hoping that he’d spotted Molly. But it wasn’t – the spaniel was cute and curly eared, but it had much darker fur than the golden-haired puppy, and it wasn’t all frizzy and curly.
“She’s just disappeared,” Anya said sadly. “Oh, Molly, where are you?”
Chapter Four
Molly pattered along the seafront, sniffing for food. A little boy had given her half a sandwich at lunchtime, but then his mum had told him off and shooed her away. Half a sandwich was not enough to fill her up and now she felt empty and miserable.
There was a delicious smell coming from somewhere up ahead – so good that Molly couldn’t stop her tail wagging in delight. She hurried along, sniffing hopefully and trying to work out where the food was.
A family were sitting outside one of the beach huts, eating their fish and chip dinner out of the paper. It smelled so good that Molly felt herself begin to dribble a little. She crept up closer, her tail trembling from side to side in a shy wag. She sat down next to a girl who was sitting in a canvas chair and looked up at her. She glanced between the girl and the chips, her dark brown eyes pleading. Please can I have some?
The girl giggled, peeked over at her mum and dad to check they weren’t looking and sneaked Molly a chip.
“You’re so cute,” she whispered. “I bet you’re not allowed those though. Where’s your owner gone? Did you slip your lead?” she added, giving Molly another chip.
“Is that a dog, Ella?” her mum called over.
“Yes, look, isn’t she lovely?”
“I hope you’re not feeding her!”
“Oh no, course I’m not.” Ella grinned down at Molly. “Our secret,” she whispered. “But they’ll see if I give you any more, sorry.”
Suddenly, there was a wild flurry of barking and a big golden Labrador surged out from under one of the chairs, almost overturning the man who was sitting in it. He yelled loudly, and Molly backed away in horror, turning tail and running as the huge Labrador raced after her. He was much bigger than she was and his legs were a lot longer, too. Even though he’d got caught up in all the chairs, he was soon right on her tail, barking and growling furiously. She had been bothering his people.
Molly raced along the promenade as fast as she could, but she didn’t have very much energy – not like the Labrador, who was fit and well fed. He caught her, knocking her down with one of his massive paws and rolling her on the concrete. He stood over her, growling and showing his massive teeth, and Molly whimpered with fear, her paws in the air, trying to show that she wouldn’t fight. She was sorry – he was in charge.
“George! Get off!” The man who’d nearly been tipped over and the nice girl came racing up.
“Get off that poor little dog!” the girl shrieked.
“Bad dog, George!” The man grabbed George’s collar and dragged him away from Molly.
“Awww, she’s so scared, poor little thing,” the girl said, crouching down by Molly. “Where’s your owner, hey? We’d better go and take you back and say sorry that George chased you.”
“I’m not sure she’s got an owner,” the man said, still trying to hold George back. The big dog was growling and trying to lunge at Molly. “George, stop it! No!” he said firmly, and George edged away, with muttery growls. “I think I saw her the other day by the ice-cream kiosk. Maybe she’s a stray? But she’s such a nice little dog. I’d be surprised if people weren’t looking for her.”
Molly peered sideways at the big Labrador and realized that he wasn’t about to chase her again. She sprang up, trembling, and backed away, step by step.
“Oh no, come back!” the girl cried. “We need to find out who you belong to!”
But Molly was already gone. As soon as she’d got far enough from George, she whipped round and ran away down the promenade, darting behind a row of beach huts so that she was hidden. She could hear the girl calling behind her, but that big dog was there, too. She couldn’t go back.
Anya sat at the kitchen table with her bead kit, listening to Jessie fussing upstairs and worrying about the puppy.
“Oh no,” she muttered, looking at the bracelet she was threading.
She’d done it wrong again – for about the third time. She just couldn’t concentrate. Anya was sure it had been Molly she’d seen on the beach. She kept wondering if the little dog had got home yet. Maybe Rachel and her family were out looking for her – if only she could go and tell them where she’d last seen Molly, it might help. But she didn’t even know where Rachel’s holiday cottage was.
Anya stood up and went over to the window. At least it was still light. The only time that she remembered being lost herself was a few years before, when she had been Christmas shopping with Mum. She had stopped to look at a beautiful window display, with a toy Father Christmas that waved. She had been transfixed – and then she’d turned round to point Father Christmas out and her mum had gone.
It had been late afternoon and getting dark – just the right time to see all the sparkling Christmas lights, but the darkness had made Anya feel even more scared.
Mum had found her, of course. She had only gone on a few steps up the street before she realized that Anya wasn’t right beside her any more. She’d come dashing back and scooped Anya up and hugged her. But Anya still remembered that panicked moment in the dark when she thought that she was lost forever. Now she wondered if Molly was feeling the same way.