3 Heads & a Tail (31 page)

“
Yes,
of course,
”
she
replies
, scratching her ear
.
“
I want to be with you, but I
'
m scared
.
”

“
I know, but I
'
ll look after you
,
and I guess we
'
ll learn as we go on. What do you say?
”

I
'
m not sure what she
'
ll say. Maybe she
'
ll want to go b
ack and I
'
ll just go home. M
aybe we
'
ll never see each other again...

“
Voof!
”
Her bark breaks the silence. S
he gets
up
, wagging her tail.
“
Let
'
s go, n
ow, before I change my mind – wherever
the wind takes us.
”

“
Wherever the wind takes us,
”
I bark.

W
e look around goofily, wary in case anyone
heard us, b
ut no-one knows what we
'
re planning. We
'
re doggy runaways
,
sheltering under a willow tree. I
'
ve no idea what
'
s going to happen next, but we
'
re together.
That
'
s enough.

“
Let
'
s start walking,
”
suggests Mimi, wagging her tail.

I like her enthusiasm. She
'
s a bold one
,
really. I rub her nose and
we
wander out from
beneath
the willow. Its leaves bobble in the breeze
in
a silent dance. It would be nice to stay and sleep, but I
'
m guessing we should start moving
,
and be
far away
before anyone realises we are gone. I
'
m wondering if David woke Ben to tell him. I
'
m guessing he
didn
'
t
and
that he
'
ll pretend
he didn
'
t see my escape
to save his own skin. From what Mimi said, her owner
won
'
t
realis
e she
'
s
gone until morning
– 8am to be precise. She
'
s an early riser. Ben
won
'
t
be up
un
til 9
,
but
then he
'
ll be worried. I have to blank tha
t from my mind – too
upsetting to think about
.

I pad along by Mimi
'
s side as we cross the park to the other side – not the side that
goes
to my house and not the side that
goes
to h
er
s, but a completely differe
nt direction... one in which we
'
ve
never been.

Briing brrinng da ding briiing brinnng da da dee
dee dee briinnnggoooo oofff oo
ff
!

Ben sat up with a st
art, his eyes still closed. Waving
his hand backwards
,
he tried
to hit the
'
alarm off
'
button on his mobile phone. He
'
d deliberately chosen the most annoying wake-up ring he could find just so that he
'
d definitely get up
.
Jeez
, he thought, it couldn
'
t be 9am already. He
rubbed his eyes, sitting up
dazed until his brain plunged int
o gear, and then he opened them
. Y
es
,
indeed,
it was 9am. Where did the weekend go? Too short as usual. Before you know it, it
'
s Monday morning.

He kicked back the duvet and stumbled out of bed, grabbed his towel and headed for the bathroom. Halfway there, he stopped and looked back.
“
Glen?
”

No reply. Ben shook his head. He must have
crept
out and slept on the sofa downstairs again.
The dog
knew he shouldn
'
t, but he liked it. Ben took a shower, b
rushed his teeth, got dressed,
did all of the usual stuff, and
c
hecked
that
his bag contained everything he needed
for
the day
.
He wasn
'
t starting work
until 10am
,
so he was on time. There was j
ust enough time for a quick coffee.

“
Oh, err,
hi,
”
mumbled
David, striding past, heading to his room. Ben nodded. He still
wanted to punch him, but he
'
d promised Josie that he wouldn
'
t, not
unti
l they sorted out a plan
.

Ben
cursed the guy under his breath, before
walking downstairs to the kitchen
. He turned on the kettle, grabbed a mug and then headed
to
the lounge, expecting to
find
Glen
, but he wasn
'
t there
.
Perhaps
he was lying behind t
he sofa
? Nope
. Ben
checked the
entire
room. No dog. Putting
his
mug down,
he ran upstairs and checked his
own
room
again
,
followed by
the bat
hroom. He even p
eeked into
Josie
'
s room
. No dog. Someone must have shut him outside. Ben padded down the stairs and opened the front door.
“
Glen?
”
No response.
H
e would
normally
come bounding up the stairs.

This was strange
. Even stranger, he was going to have to ask David if Glen was in his room – unlikely – or if he
'
d seen him lately. He knocked on the hatch. After a while,
Mr Flicky Hair
opened it
, looking worried
.

“
Seen Glen?
”
asked Ben in a none-too-
friendly voice.

“
No mate, I haven
'
t,
”
said David, acting more shift
y than usual.

Ben frowned. I
'
m not your mate, he thought.

David watched as Ben walked back to his room. Should he
tell him?
He
would go mad
. David knew he should tell him, but what difference would it make? Ben would realise the dog
was
missing
at some point
, and then it would either be lost or found. It would make no difference now if he told him. Ben would only blame him and then there would
be a bad atmosphere. Better to say nothing. He
closed the hatch.

Ben check
ed the house one more time,
even though
he
realised
the dog was missing.
He grabbed his mobile and dialled a number. It rang four times before
his co-worker
answered.

“
Hi, Elaine, I
'
ve got a slight emergency at home. Can you cover for me?
”

“
What
'
s happened?
”

“
It
'
s Glen. H
e
'
s vanished.
I think he might have got out.
”

“
Oh,
Ben, d
on
'
t worry. Report the dog and put up some posters or something. Ring the vet. That stuff is all important – don
'
t worry
about coming in.
”

“
Are
you sure? I can come by later.
”

“
I
'
ll be fine,
”
she said.
“
Today
'
s a quiet day anyway. You know that!
”

“
Thanks. I owe you one,
”
said Ben.

“
I know!
Good luck!
”

Ben put the phone in his pocket. He took down a couple of photos of Ben from his bedroom wall an
d put them into his wallet. Grabbing
his keys and jacket,
he walked outside and whistled for Glen. T
here was no response. Ben walked the
local
street
s
and the park, looking. Whenev
er he passed anyone, he
'
d stop and
show them one of the photos and ask if they
'
d seen his dog lately. The dog walkers
said they were
sorry,
but
they hadn
'
t. Other people were less patient
,
and one or two drunk
en
guys told
him to get lost. All in all, no one had seen Glen, which
was
odd in itself
. The park was
his dog
'
s
favourite place. If he
'
d wandered off, Ben would have expected to find him
t
here, chasing something.

There were only two possibilities: Glen had
been in an accident or someone had
stolen him. Ben sat down on a park bench and
rang his vet
to report
him
missing. The receptionist wished him good luck in finding his dog and said they would put up a
picture
of him in the
surgery. Ben thanked her. What
next?

The next stop was the
police station. They weren
'
t much help
,
and told him to try the RSPCA or PDSA in case his dog had been
brought in. Nice. Barely controlling his anger, he
left quickly. He rang both organisations, but no golden Labradors had been brought in.
Ben tried the other local vets: nothing
.
Determined to find his dog
,
he
walked home to make up some posters.
On the way, he stopped
in
at the library and made A4 colour printouts
of
one of
Glen
'
s photos.

Back home,
Ben
made up some posters in the kit
chen. He
stuck them on the lamp
posts
on his
street and those nearby,
in the park,
at
the local shop
,
and anywhere
else
h
e could think of.
By
early afternoon, he was exhausted of ideas
.
Glen had never gone missing before. He never wandered off.
Ben wondered what
else
he
could possibly do.
Wait, he guessed. Just wait.