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“Poor lass. You’ll let us know the minute you hear anything, won’t you?”

“Of course.”

Donald was about to hang up when his father asked one more question. “Was the dog with Hal when he disappeared?”

“What dog?”

“Fleck. He wrote to tell us he had a dog.”

“No, no. That was days ago. We took the dog back. It was only out on hire. Hal didn’t mind. He made a fuss at first and then he forgot all about him. He was excited about going away to school.”

Alec went upstairs very slowly. He thought about saying nothing to Marnie but he’d never been much good at concealing things from his wife.

“What is it?” she asked. “Come on, it’s bad news I know.”

Alec told her.

“Donald is sure the boy’s been kidnapped, but I wonder.”

They sat up in bed, very close together, trying to bear what seemed to be unbearable – that Hal was missing and in danger.

“What exactly did Donald say?” Marnie wanted to know.

She listened carefully while Alec repeated his conversation with his son.

“Well, there’s one thing in all that that’s nonsense,” said Marnie. “There’s no way Hal has forgotten about the little dog.”

“That’s what I thought,” said Alec.

After a while they gave up all attempt at sleeping and went downstairs and made a pot of tea. They sat with it while the night turned gradually paler, thinking about the boy they saw so rarely and loved so much. And old Meg lay with her head resting on Alec’s feet and kept watch also.

12

The Murgatroyd Family Wedding

The children had walked for several hours and it seemed as though London would never end. They were no nearer a road where lorries might slow down and give them a lift. Hal had had no sleep and very little food. He was completely exhausted, and even Pippa was secretly wondering if they should give up.

They reached a big petrol station with a café attached. It was part of a concourse and was completely jammed with a row of cars and lorries and caravans which seemed to belong together.

The children flopped down on a bench by a messy ornamental pool and the dogs had a drink. From the lorries and caravans came unexpected noises – the stamping of hooves, the sound of a parrot squawking, snatches of music. On some of the caravans were red circles and a picture of a clown’s head. Scrawled on the sides were the names of the places they were going to: Todcaster, Berwick, Aberdeen… And above them, in big letters: Henry’s Circus for Today.

“Why is it a Circus for Today?” Hal wondered, and Pippa said it was because they were only allowed to have animals that did tricks anyway, like dogs and horses, not lions or tigers or sea lions.

“They tried having circuses without any animals at all but no one went to them so they brought back all the animals that are tame already.”

Wandering between the caravans were gaily dressed people, and mechanics in grease-stained overalls. A woman in a red shawl carried a baby in her arms. Now there was a sort of stirring and everyone began to go back to their cars or caravans. The circus, it seemed, was getting ready to move on.

It was at this moment that they noticed that Francine was missing.

It was an awful moment. The dogs had kept together throughout the journey; the children had hardly needed to check where they were. Now, though they called and searched, the poodle was nowhere to be seen.

“Find her,” said Pippa to the other dogs. “Come on, Otto, you’re a rescue dog. Find Francine.”

The dogs put their heads down. It was difficult with so many smells coming from the parked vehicles, not to mention fumes from the petrol pumps. Then Otto took off towards a trailer parked near the end of the row and galloped round to the other side. They all followed him – and stopped dead.

At first they just thought they were seeing double. There was not one black poodle on the grassy verge, there were two. The second poodle was black like Francine and clipped in the same way – he could have been her twin – but as they stared they saw that he was slightly bigger, and a male.

But it was what the two dogs were doing that made them gaze with open mouths.

The dogs were dancing. Not tottering about on their hind legs as dogs sometimes do, but properly, beautifully dancing to the sound of an accordion played by a tall man in overalls. They pirouetted, they turned, they looked into each other’s eyes, held by the music. The big male poodle was absorbed, but Francine was transformed; her eyes shone, her head tilted to catch every drop of sound. They could see how happy she was, how exactly where she wanted to be.

The man put down the accordion and picked up a hoop that had been lying on the grass and held it up. He was a big man; the hoop was high. The male poodle went first, flying through it effortlessly. Then, without a moment’s hesitation, Francine followed.

Even in mid-air, with her ears blown back by the breeze, she seemed to be smiling with pleasure.

But now the man had caught sight of them.

“Well, well,” he said, “that’s one of the best trained dogs I’ve seen. She’s got the measure of Rupert all right. I didn’t have to tell her anything; she just took off. Looks as though she was trained by Elsa. You can always tell Elsa’s dogs; they’ve got that natural look.”

Pippa nodded. “Yes, that’s right,” she said, to Hal’s amazement.

“And this’ll be her new act?” said the man, looking at the other dogs. “Trust Elsa to train a St Bernard; they hate the noise and fuss of a circus usually. But Elsa could train a brain-dead earthworm. You travelling with her?”

“Yes. She’s our aunt. Well, sort of…” said Pippa, while Hal continued to stare at her.

The man grinned. “‘Sort of’ is right – she must be on her fifth husband. But what’s she doing here? Last time I heard she was doing the season in Bournemouth.”

“I’m afraid that fell through,” said Pippa.

“Oh it did, did it? Well that’s a piece of luck for us. We need a dog act. Petroc’s Poodles have let us down – Petroc’s had to go to hospital. I’m just looking after Rupert here till he gets back.” He gestured to the poodle standing very close to Francine. “But where’s Elsa’s van? I didn’t see it come in.”

“It broke down,” said Pippa. “There was a sort of horrible scraping noise. Elsa wasn’t at all pleased.”

“I bet she wasn’t. Swearing fit to bust, I’ll wager.”

“Yes, she was. She told us to come on ahead and tell you.”

“Did she then?” said the man, whose name was George. “Well, we’re just off. You’d better jump in that lorry over there for now. There’s plenty of room and it’s full of hay. We’ll sort you out when we get there. Wait till I tell Mr Henry – he’ll be over the moon, Elsa’s dogs falling into his lap like that.”

He had a word with the driver and let down the tailboard. The children climbed aboard and so did the dogs – except for Francine, who stood still and looked at Rupert, while Rupert looked at her.

“Come on, Francine,” called Pippa.

But the two poodles just stood very close together and did not move.

“All right, you can go with them,” said George to Rupert, and the two dogs jumped in together and lay down side by side.

“How can you tell all those lies?” asked Hal when they were under way. “You must be mad.”

“They’re not lies,” said Pippa. “They’re stories.”

“I can’t see the difference,” said Hal.

“That’s silly! If you’re reading a book with people having adventures you don’t think you’re reading a lot of lies. You’re just glad there’s something going on.”

Hal was not reassured. Elsa with her five husbands and her bad language sounded absolutely terrifying.