Wolfie (7 page)

Lucie said, “It was me who said she was, right at the start. And you both said she wasn’t. Didn’t you, Dad?”

“Did I?” asked Dad vaguely.

“Yes!”

“Oh.”

“So why don’t you just tell Mr Dundas the same thing!”

“Oh, we will, we will,” said Dad. But he didn’t sound very sure. Then he put his cup down and said in a falsely hearty voice, “I’m sure there’s nothing to
worry about! Don’t you give it another thought, Lucie. Just leave the whole matter to us.”

* * *

But of course Lucie did think about it — all the time. Her parents wouldn’t talk to her any more about it, but they kept having muttered conversations when they
thought she couldn’t hear. When she asked what was going on they just said, “don’t worry” and “everything’s under control.”

This did not comfort Lucie one bit.

“Oh Fang, what do you think will happen now?” Lucie asked as they sat together in Lucie’s bedroom.

“Who knows? But I am afraid they will decide I’m a wolf, and get rid of me.”

Tears sprung into Lucie’s eyes.

“It’s not fair! You’ve
always
been a wolf! Nobody minded before. Nobody even noticed.”

“The trouble is, when I saved that child, people paid attention. For the first time, they really looked. Close up. Using their eyes. Human beings often do not notice what is right under
their noses. But when they do start looking…well…” Fang shrugged. “Even human beings are not
completely
stupid.”

“But what can we do?”

“I don’t know,” said Fang. “The trouble is, I don’t understand human beings well enough. I don’t know what would make people change their minds.”

“Can’t you use your Magic Powers?” asked Lucie desperately.

Fang snorted. “There are no Magic Powers that can change what goes on in peoples’ heads! If there were, I could rule the world!”

Lucie sat silently for a while. Then she said, “Maybe we could change what goes on in Mum and Dad’s heads. Maybe that would be enough…”

“How would we do that?”

“What happens if
you
talk to Mum and Dad? You could tell them that you are a wolf, but you’re a nice wolf, a talking wolf, who doesn’t eat people.”

“
Nice
?” said Fang, who seemed a bit offended. “You make me sound like a golden retriever. And I could eat people if I wanted to. If only I’d eaten Marcus, none of
this would have happened.”

“Whatever you do, don’t say that! Just explain that you are kind and loyal and you don’t do anyone any harm…except rabbits.” Lucie considered. “In fact,
don’t mention the rabbits.”

“It’s a good idea,” said Fang kindly, “but unfortunately it’s impossible.”

“Why?”

“Because we Talking Wolves have sworn a Solemn Vow of Secrecy. We never speak to any grown human being if we can help it.”

“But why?” asked Lucie.

“It’s too dangerous. If humans knew we could talk they would lock us up, and put us in laboratories, and study us and do experiments. Maybe they’d cut us up to see how we work.
And they wouldn’t stop until they had hunted down the whole of our kind.”

“Mum and Dad wouldn’t tell.”

“Maybe not. But I still can’t risk it.”

“Then why did you talk to me?”

“You are only one person. And you’re a child. Nobody would ever listen to you. Besides,” added Fang, “I liked you. You smelled right.”

Lucie considered. She still thought that her parents might help, if only they knew the truth.

“All right then, what if
I
told them?” she said at last. “I know they’re grow-ups, but still…they are nice, really…surely they’d
understand.”

Fang wrinkled her nose. “You can try.”

Later that day Lucie went into her Dad’s study, where he was working away on his computer as usual.

“Dad,” said Lucie, “what would you say if I told you that Wolfie wasn’t a dog, she was really a wolf?”

“Eh?” said Dad. “What’s that?”

Lucie repeated her question. “And not just any wolf,” she added. “A
talking
wolf?”

“Hmm,” said Dad, rubbing his nose as he did when he was thinking. (Although whether he was thinking about his computer code or what Lucie had said it was hard to know.) “Do you
think it’s the sort of thing you’re likely to say?”

“I’m not sure,” said Lucie, “but what if I did?”

“Hmm. I suppose I’d say you’d been reading too many storybooks. Or maybe I’d call up the zoo — yes, they ought to be able to put you straight.”

Lucie turned and quietly left the room, and Dad went back to his computer and immediately forgot the whole conversation.

Later on she asked her mother the same questions.

“A talking wolf!” cried her mother. “Quelle idée! Lucie, are you feeling all right?” And she put a hand to Lucie’s head. “You must have a fever to say
such things. Come and lie down right now.”

“Err…forget it,” Lucie mumbled.

There was only one person who was still on her side, and that was Alex. Of course, Alex did not know that Fang — or Wolfie, as he thought of her — could talk. But he was almost as
worried about what was going to happen to her as Lucie was. He also felt terrible that he had got Wolfie into so much trouble by saying that she had wolf blood, even though Lucie kept telling him
it wasn’t his fault.

The two of them spent ages trying to work out what to do next.

“What we need,” he said one day during lunch break, “is someone like a vet or a zoo keeper to say definitely that Wolfie is not a wolf. Maybe they could sign a certificate.
What do you think? Shall we take her to the zoo and see if they’ll say she’s not?”

“The trouble is,” said Lucie, “what if they say she IS?”

They both shivered. It was true that the weather had gone very cold lately, but that was not the reason. They were thinking of what might happen next.

That evening Lucie and Fang sat in Lucie’s bedroom, talking. Lucie was supposed to be doing her homework, but it lay forgotten on the rug.

“What do you think’s going on?” Lucie asked Fang. “I know something is. But Mum and Dad won’t tell me anything.”

There was a pause. Then Fang said, “I think they are planning to take me to a vet.”

“No! Why do you think so?”

“I overheard them talking while you were at school. Of course, they don’t know that I can understand what they say.”

“And a vet — ” Lucie began, then stopped.

“— will know that I’m not a dog,” Fang said.

At that moment they heard footsteps on the stairs. They both fell silent, and the next moment Mum came into the room. Lucie leapt to her feet.

“You mustn’t get rid of Wolfie!” she cried.

“Sweetheart,” said Mum. “You mustn’t get into a state.” She came and sat down on the bed and put her arm around Lucie. “We’ve already told you
we’re going to deal with this.”

“Are you going to take Wolfie to a vet?”

“We’re making enquiries. And after all, Lucie, Mr Dundas does have a point. I phoned Uncle Joe, to find out more about Wolfie. And would you believe it, he doesn’t know
anything about her! He bought her from somebody he met in the street. Imagine that! We can’t even ask her old owner about her. So really, it’s only sensible to find out more about
her…before we decide whether to keep her.”

Lucie was so horrified that for a moment she could find no words. “But we
have
to keep her!” she croaked at last.

Mum hugged her tight. “You’re our little girl and we love you and we have to do what’s best for you. After all,” she went on brightly, “it’s not long till
Christmas! Who knows — maybe Santa will bring you a new pet!” She got up. “Just one more thing,” she added, “until we find out for sure, Dad and I think it might be
better if Wolfie sleeps downstairs.”

Lucie found her voice. “What are you so worried about? That she might save my life in the night?”

But there was no point arguing. There never was when her parents had an idea fixed in their heads. Fang gently licked her palm. Lucie was quiet. Her Mum gave her a big kiss, and then took Fang
downstairs.

That night Lucie lay in bed, staring at the empty patch of rug where Fang usually slept. It felt strange without her. Lucie was used to the sound of her breathing. She was used to looking across
and seeing her in the night.

Lucie imagined going to sleep without Fang, maybe for the rest of her life.

A tear trickled down her cheek.

Night drew in. Outside the air grew colder. Downstairs, Lucie’s parents turned off the TV and went up to bed. The full moon rose, sending its light through the gap in Lucie’s
curtains to lie in a silver bar across her bed.

The church clock chimed eleven. Then twelve.

It was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop.

Or a wolf, breathing.

L
ucie tossed and turned. In her dreams she was wandering deep in a snowy forest. She could hear wolves howling in the distance. For a moment she
woke up, and thought she could still hear them. Then she drifted back into a troubled sleep.

Suddenly she sat up, wide awake. Two eyes were gleaming at her.

“Fang!” whispered Lucie.

Fang laid a paw on Lucie’s arm. Then she glanced at the window. “The moon is full,” she said. “And Wolves are Roaming.”

“Roaming where?” Lucie whispered. Fang did not answer.

“Oh, Fang,” Lucie whispered. “You’re not leaving?”

Fang was still gazing at the moon. She seemed to be thinking.

“Are you brave enough to come too?” she asked at last. “Are you brave enough to Roam with Wolves? Are you ready to seek out their Wisdom?”

“Yes,” said Lucie. “But,” she added, “we won’t go
forever
? I mean, I know my parents are sometimes stupid and annoying, but I can’t leave them
forever
. They would be so upset.”

“One night should be enough. Either we find a way or we don’t. Climb on my back, She-Child.”

Lucie slipped out of bed and put on her warm dressing-gown and slippers. Then she climbed onto Fang’s back. It felt very odd. Lucie had once tried riding a pony. But riding a wolf felt
completely different.

“Hold tight,” said Fang. “Don’t worry about pulling my fur. You won’t hurt me. And grip tight with your heels. If you are
very
frightened,” she added,
“it might be best to shut your eyes.”

Lucie
was
a bit frightened then, especially as the next thing Fang did was to leap onto the window sill. To her astonishment, Lucie saw that it was snowing. Snowflakes swirled through the
air and down onto the darkened garden, as if someone was emptying bags of feathers.

Fang pushed at the window with her paw, and even though Lucie had been sure it was locked, it came open.

Then Fang crouched low, gathered her strength…and leapt into the night.

The air roared around Lucie’s ears.
This must be a dream
, she thought.
Because if Fang really did jump out of the window, we’d have hit the ground by now and that would be
the end of us!

But the cold snow on her face was real. So was the owl that almost flew into them, with an alarmed “Tu-Whoo!” And the enormous drop beneath her, that Lucie saw when she dared to look
down — yes, that was real too.

“We are flying!” yelled Lucie. “We’re really flying!”

“I know,” said Fang. “No need to make so much racket.”

Lucie gazed around at the steep rooftops and the swirling snow. She began to laugh with surprise and delight.

“Don’t do that,” said Fang. “You’ll fall off.”

So Lucie sat quietly and tried to see what she could recognise. They were circling round over the old professor’s house. Lucie had always thought it looked like a haunted house, with its
turret and twisted chimneys like tall, black candlesticks. It looked more haunted than ever in the snow.

They approached the church clock.

“What’s that?” Lucie cried, as a black shadow squeaked.

“Just a bat,” said Fang.

They were gaining height now. The moon was rushing towards them. The air round Lucie’s ears grew into a wind. Fang was flying — but it felt more as if she were running.

And the strange thing was that although Lucie was in the middle of a snowstorm, and in only her night things and dressing-gown, she felt warm as toast.

A plaintive howl echoed through the sky. Fang lifted her head and howled too. Then she ran through the air even faster than before.

For a while Lucie was so giddy that she just clutched at Fang and shut her eyes. She felt they must have travelled miles and miles. The air was much colder, and there were no traffic sounds.

When she was able to look down again, she saw that they had not come so far after all. They were over the park.

At least, Lucie thought it was the park. But she could not see the playground. Nor the bandstand. Nor the cafe by the lake. Nor any of the concrete paths.

All she could see were trees, with wide, snow-covered spaces running between them; the lake; and the darkness of the ravine.

“Is that the park?” she asked Fang. “I mean, it
looks
like the park. But then in another way it doesn’t.”

“It
is
the park,” said Fang. “But it was a meeting place for us wolves long before you humans came and put your walls and fences round it.”