Claude's Christmas Adventure Read online

  ‘Mostly,’ Holly admitted. ‘I like, well, making things. And keeping busy. Christmas is sort of the season for homemade stuff, don’t you think?’

  ‘I’d never really thought about it.’ Jack tilted his head slightly as he looked at her, and Holly got the uncomfortable feeling that he was taking this new information and adding it to what he already knew about her. She just wished she knew what conclusions he was drawing. Talented amateur crafts-person or crazy Pinterest addict? Was it too much to want to know which? ‘So, what was today’s order? Fabric? Sequins? At least I know it wasn’t more of that incredibly heavy stuff you had last week.’

  ‘Air drying clay. Sorry.’ Holly felt her cheeks warm up and knew she was blushing. ‘Actually, today’s wasn’t craft stuff. I suspect it’s Perdita’s Christmas jumper.’

  ‘Perdita?’ Jack’s eyebrows were raised so high they’d almost disappeared under the short, dark hair just starting to curl over his forehead.

  ‘My cat.’ Great. With two words she’d crystallised his opinion of her as a crazy cat lady. So much for trying to appear normal. Too late now, though. Holly opened the package and held up the fluffy red outfit, with brown pompoms sewn on to look like Christmas puddings.

  ‘Ah.’ Jack stared at the jumper for a moment then averted his gaze, apparently horrified. ‘And does she, uh, like dressing up?’

  ‘Not particularly.’ Holly looked down at Claude, who was wolfing his way through Perdita’s cat food. She wondered if he might like a Christmas sweater. ‘But I feed and house her, so she has to go along with my whims.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ Jack said. ‘I don’t suppose Perdita is a big dog fan?’

  ‘Not at all, I’m afraid.’ They both stared at Claude who, apparently sensing the attention, sat back from the now empty bowl and stared back. ‘I don’t think she’d much like coming home to find Claude here. It might be a bit Goldilocks for her. You know, “Who’s that eating my cat food?’’’

  Jack sighed. ‘In that case, it looks like you’re coming with me, boy.’ He reached down and scooped Claude up. The dog looked even smaller, his ears even more absurd, in Jack’s strong arms. At least, Holly assumed they were strong. They looked strong. And they’d managed the air drying clay no problem.

  She might be obsessing about his arms a little bit.

  ‘I can ask around the neighbourhood while I’m doing my rounds, see if anyone has a number for the McCawleys,’ Jack went on. ‘I just wish I had a lead for him. Maybe I could borrow some ribbon?’

  Holly stopped staring at Jack’s arms and lurched towards Perdita’s cupboard instead. ‘Even better. You can borrow Perdita’s lead. It just clips onto the collar.’ She turned to hand it to him to find Jack staring at her, for a change.

  ‘You have a lead for your … cat?’

  Blood hit her cheeks again. Dammit, she’d blushed more this afternoon than in the past five years. ‘Yes. When we moved here, she was a bit skittish. And Sebastian said … anyway, it doesn’t matter. Here you go.’ No need to explain that Sebastian had said that if she couldn’t control the damn animal, she’d have to get rid of it. Holly had chosen the lead as a way to try and keep Perdita comfortable and close until she settled in.

  She proffered the lead again, and this time Jack took it.

  ‘Sebastian?’ he asked, as he clipped it onto Claude’s collar.

  ‘My ex,’ Holly said shortly.

  ‘Ah. Right.’ Was that pity in his eyes now? Or … maybe, just maybe, was it something else?

  Holly really hoped so. She was sick of pity. And perhaps it was past time for something else.

  ‘Good luck,’ she said, as Jack headed for the door. ‘I mean, with Claude.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Jack flashed her a smile. ‘I’ll drop by later, if you like? Let you know how I get on? And return the lead, of course.’

  ‘Of course.’ Holly returned the grin. ‘That would be … nice.’

  ‘Nice,’ Jack echoed.

  And then they were doing the staring competition thing again, and that wasn’t getting either of them anywhere.

  ‘I’ll see you later, then,’ Holly said, her hand on the door. She couldn’t stand around here flirting all day. She had a dozen mince pies to bake, a gingerbread house to assemble and decorate, and another lot of bunting to make.

  As Jack led Claude away up the street, he turned and waved, and Holly felt that warm rush fill her again. He was coming back.

  She wondered if Jack liked eggnog.

  There is a certain indignity to being led around on a cat lead, even if no one except you and the person holding the lead knows it is one. Still, Jack the Postman didn’t seem to mind the ridiculousness, so I decided I could probably bear it too.

  It had to be better than wearing the hideous outfit that Holly had apparently bought for Perdita. I gave a satisfied huff. Nice to know that my nemesis cat would be facing some punishment after all.

  Actually, meeting Holly had made me think that perhaps Perdita didn’t have it quite as free and easy as she suggested. The evil fluffy cat liked to lord it over me because she could go anywhere, do anything, and was answerable to no one. But it seemed to me like Holly was rather invested in her cat – and if Perdita put up with things like Christmas jumpers, and being taken out on a lead, then maybe she was more committed to her person than she liked to admit.

  It didn’t make me like Perdita any more, but I was starting to believe that we were more alike than she’d been letting on.

  Plus I got to eat her cat food. It wasn’t as good as mine, of course, but abandoned dogs had to take what they could get.

  Abandoned.

  What a horrible word. I knew what happened to abandoned dogs. Other dogs didn’t like to talk about it much but, sometimes, in the park or out for a walk, you’d hear whispers. A new dog would appear on the scene, looking haunted and nervous, for instance. And someone would overhear a human muttering about owners who didn’t deserve pets. Owners who beat their dogs, or starved them, or just left them somewhere, alone and scared. How this one had been lucky to find a new home. But they didn’t look lucky, not straight off. To start with, they just looked terrified that it would happen again.

  Over time, if they were really one of the lucky ones, they’d start to lose that haunted, hunted look. But sometimes they’d just disappear, and we’d never know their experiences.

  And sometimes, those dogs who lasted, would talk about what happened to them.

  I didn’t like to listen to those stories.

  And I really didn’t like to think that it might be happening to me, right now.

  No. I shook my head, my ears catching the wind as I trotted along Maple Drive beside Jack. I wasn’t an abandoned dog. Daisy and Oliver hadn’t meant to leave me behind, I was sure of that.

  I just didn’t understand why they hadn’t come back yet. Surely they must have realised I wasn’t with them by now?

  ‘Well, old boy,’ Jack said, and I stopped my fretting to listen. It’s easy enough to understand humans if you’re paying attention, but it’s like trying to understand a squirrel or a cat. Not quite the automatic sense that other dogs make.

  Well, it wouldn’t be, would it? Everyone knows that dogs are the most intelligent of animals.

  ‘Let’s see if we can find someone who knows where your family are,’ Jack went on, but he didn’t sound like he had much hope. I didn’t blame him. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen Daisy or Oliver talking to any of our neighbours. I talked to Perdita more than they’d ever spoken to Holly, I knew that for a fact. Maple Drive just wasn’t that sort of place; I didn’t even know the names of some of the pets on the street. And besides, my family were always dashing here, there and everywhere, often dragging me along behind them. When would they have had time to tell anyone where they were going?

  I must have looked despondent, because Jack rubbed my ears and said, ‘Cheer up, Claude. I’m sure they’ll be back soon, anyway. Definitely by the time I’ve finished my rounds, I re
ckon. They probably thought you were in the house when they left, right?’

  I knew he was trying to cheer me up, but his words only left me more depressed. What if they weren’t planning on coming back at all? They were off on their ferry, France and chateau adventure, probably having all sorts of fun without me.

  Maybe Daisy and Oliver hadn’t meant to leave me behind, but I was starting to worry that they hadn’t missed me since they left. And what did that say about my place in the family?

  The McCawleys were my pack. But to them, I was only a pet.

  In which case … I looked up at Jack, who was whistling a tune I recognised from Daisy’s Christmas CD. If I needed to find a new family, I could do a lot worse than Jack. He’d been kind so far, and he was helping me – even if he had put me on a lead. He and Holly had fed me, and they were trying to find my family for me.

  Yes, Jack and Holly were good people. Perhaps I’d adopt them. After all, why should it always be the humans who got to choose their pets? I’d bet they’d love a handsome dog like me for Christmas. Suddenly, I felt a lot better about my day, and about Christmas as a whole. All I had to do was show Jack and Holly that they were my humans now. At least until Daisy and Oliver came home, anyway.

  That shouldn’t be too hard. Right?

  ‘I don’t think you understand,’ Daisy ground out, mentally cursing the man behind the ferry information desk. Boils in very uncomfortable places. Or maybe the tinsel that lined the desk could rise up and strangle him … ‘We need to get back to England. Immediately.’

  Jay’s thin arms were wrapped around her waist, clinging on for dear life, and Daisy’s tunic felt damp around the middle from his tears. This was a disaster. How could they possibly have forgotten Claude?

  ‘Madam, I am sure that you understand that we cannot simply “turn the boat around” as you say.’ The official followed his words with an insincere smile that made Daisy wish for worse than boils for him. Maybe verrucas all over his face …

  Jay let out another wail, and Daisy decided to forgo the creative cursing and try begging instead.

  ‘Please.’ She looked down at his name badge. ‘Henri. It’s our dog, you see. He got left behind. He’s all alone back there. We have to get back to him.’

  Henri’s face twisted up in disgust. ‘A dog? Madam, these are wild creatures. They know how to take care of themselves. Really, you shouldn’t worry.’ He waved a hand dismissively, then selected a postcard from his clear plastic rack and passed it to Daisy. ‘Here. Go treat yourselves to a free drink in our bar. Soon you will be enjoying your journey with us so much that you will forget all about your animal.’

  Daisy glared at the ferry official as she took the voucher. As if a free drink could make them forget that Claude was at home, alone, scared and probably – knowing Claude – hungry.

  Still, no point turning down a free G&T.

  ‘What if it was emergency? A matter of life and death? Would you turn the boat around then?’ It had to be worth a try. In fact, Daisy thought there wasn’t much she wouldn’t try right now. One way or another, they had to get home to Claude. It wouldn’t be Christmas without the furriest member of their family there to share it.

  ‘That depends,’ Henri said, rather too knowingly. ‘On whether the life and death in question was human or canine. Now, if you’ll excuse me …’ He turned away and beckoned the next person in what Daisy now realised was a rather lengthy queue to the desk.

  She sighed. Plan A was an abject failure. Time for Plan B. Grabbing another few voucher postcards from the rack when the official wasn’t looking, Daisy headed off to find the rest of the family, dragging Jay along behind her.

  Oliver was waiting in the bar with Bella and the twins. He already had a pint in front of him, which Daisy took as a sign he wasn’t planning on driving when they reached the continent. Mind you, there were another five hours before they got there. As long as he didn’t have too many more, maybe she could talk him into it.

  Surely it had to be his turn to take charge for a change.

  She tossed the vouchers onto the table, and sank into the plush velvet of the bench seat, Jay beside her, arms still clamped around her middle.

  ‘Restaurant was full. But we have crisps here.’ Oliver held out a packet. Daisy ignored it. ‘No luck getting the boat turned around?’ he asked, eyebrows raised.

  Daisy’s shoulders tensed. ‘Feel free to say I told you so.’

  ‘It was worth a try,’ Oliver said, with a gentle shrug. She supposed even oblivious husbands had to realise eventually that there was only so far their wives could be pushed. Even if she knew he was thinking it inside. He’d made it quite clear how ridiculous he thought the idea of asking them to stop the ferry was. But she’d had to do something. Jay had been staring up at her with big wet eyes, the twins were wailing, and even Bella looked sad instead of sardonic. And just thinking about Claude … all alone, shivering in the cold, dreaming about doggy treats. It just broke her heart.

  ‘So, what do we do now?’ Bella asked. Daisy studied her daughter. Was there a hint of enthusiasm around her edges? It had been so long since she’d seen Bella enthusiastic about anything, she couldn’t be sure. ‘I mean, we have to go back, right? Spend Christmas at Maple Drive?’

  No, that was definitely enthusiasm. But what for? Going home? Daisy could understand not wanting to go to France for Christmas – Bella had made her opinions on that idea very clear. But what was it about Maple Drive that made Bella want to be there particularly? Because heaven knew she had complained enough about home over the last year too.

  There was definitely something going on with her daughter, and Daisy was determined to find out what it was. Just as soon as she’d disentangled the still sobbing Jay, fed the twins, and figured out what to do about Claude.

  ‘But I guess that will still take a while, right?’ Bella went on. ‘We need to do something in the meantime. Like … a social media campaign! Yeah, we need to start a Find Claude campaign! We could put his photo up on the internet, and get people to share it and everyone in Britain can watch out for him and report in sightings and—’

  ‘I sincerely doubt that Claude has wandered any further than Maple Drive,’ Oliver said, drily. ‘In fact, he’s probably still sitting on the front steps of our house.’

  Bella deflated at her father’s words, and Daisy glared at him.

  ‘It’s a brilliant idea,’ she said, patting her daughter’s hand.

  Bella perked up again. ‘Great! Then I can have my phone back? To start Find Claude?’ Her phone. Of course. That explained everything.

  ‘First things first.’ Daisy picked up the vouchers and handed two to Bella. ‘Get me a Diet Coke, and an apple juice for Jay, please?’ The gin and tonic would have to wait, unfortunately.

  Bella rolled her eyes, but at least did as she was asked. Daisy decided that this was progress.

  ‘So,’ Oliver said, handing Jay a napkin to wipe his nose on. ‘What do we do now? Put out some sort of tear jerker video through the major news outlets, telling Claude that we’re not angry, we just want to know that he’s safe?’ Daisy ignored his sarcastic tone.

  ‘We do need to make sure that Claude is safe,’ Daisy said, thinking aloud. ‘She’s right about that. Perhaps we could call home to one of our neighbours? Ask them to look out for him?’

  ‘Do we even have any of our neighbours’ numbers?’ Oliver frowned. ‘Honestly, I can’t even remember most of their names.’

  ‘Well … I think I might have Mrs Templeton’s in my phone somewhere. From that neighbourhood watch thing she tried to rope us into.’ Obviously, it would be better if she had someone else’s number – anyone else’s number – but this was an emergency.

  ‘Do you really think that Mrs Templeton is going to go out hunting for Claude then feed him dog biscuits until Boxing Day, just because we asked? She’s not exactly Claude’s biggest fan, you know.’

  ‘Or ours.’ Somehow, Mrs Templeton always seemed to be around when Claude
or one of the kids was doing something they shouldn’t be. Daisy half thought that the old bat spent her days peeking around her curtains waiting to catch them in the act. She sighed. ‘I don’t see that we’ve got much choice. We don’t know anyone else, and we can’t leave Claude all alone there. Maybe if we explain that we’re going to head back as soon as we can, she might agree to help us out?’

  ‘Are we?’ Oliver asked. ‘So we’re canning the whole idea of Christmas at your parents’ new “chateau”?’ He put air quotes around the last word. Daisy had a feeling he wasn’t expecting much from his in-laws’ latest property purchase. Not that she blamed him. She was expecting mice and potentially crumbling masonry.

  ‘I think we have to, don’t you?’ Daisy said. ‘We can try to get seats on the first ferry back. I’ll call Mum and Dad and explain. I’m sure they’ll understand.’

  Oliver looked rather less convinced, but really, what else could they do? ‘Okay then, so the first thing is to retrieve the phones. Give me the key?’ That, at least, Oliver seemed pleased about. Even Jay perked up for a moment at the prospect of getting his tablet back.

  ‘Fine,’ Daisy huffed. Reaching into her jeans pocket, she felt around for the tiny silver key she knew she’d put there.

  Nothing.

  As Oliver watched with a look of mounting horror, Daisy pulled out a stack of used tissues, a rogue dummy, a receipt from the petrol station, two jelly babies and a glittery green bow from the top of a present.

  But no little silver key.

  ‘Maybe there’s a pay phone?’ she said, hopefully, as Oliver’s forehead clunked against the table.

  Jack couldn’t remember the last time he walked a dog. When he was growing up, they’d had dogs as family pets – usually something of a decent size, like a Labrador or a Border Collie. Never anything as small as Claude. But the last dog had passed away not long before his dad followed his mum up to heaven, just after Jack enlisted, and since then … well, the army lifestyle hadn’t been very conducive to pet ownership.