The Puppy and the Orphan Read online

  ‘What are you doing out here in this weather?’

  ‘Well, I could ask you the same question!’

  ‘Erm, well, I just, erm.’

  ‘Is it something private, Cook?’ Nancy shouted.

  Unfortunately, at that moment there was another clash of thunder and Cook couldn’t hear over the roar of the storm. ‘Pardon, Nancy.’

  ‘I said is it …’

  ‘Nancy, this is ridiculous.’

  ‘You’re telling me, Cook.’

  Cook grabbed Nancy’s arm and dragged her towards the stable. ‘It’s a secret,’ she shouted and suddenly Nancy blushed, not knowing what on earth she was going to find. Never in all her days would she, or could she, have possibly guessed what she was about to see. Cook pushed open the stable door and they stood there huddled together as Cook shone the torch into the stable. There in the corner, snuggled up in the nativity stable hay, surrounded by children’s dressing gowns and cake crumbs, lay a little puppy in a crate.

  Oliver looked up at Nancy and barked.

  ‘Sweet, isn’t he?’ said Cook.

  Nancy said nothing at all. For the second time that night she stood completely still with her mouth hanging open.

  Oliver looked up at her, his tail wagging under the blankets. He tried to come over to her, then must have realized how cold it was and snuggled back into his dressing gowns and blankets waiting to be told what a very clever boy he was. He barked again.

  ‘Quiet,’ said Nancy, finding her voice. ‘Someone will hear you.’

  ‘Oh, no, they won’t,’ Cook said. ‘He’s been here for days and nobody’s heard a thing.’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘I said he has …’

  ‘Yes, I heard what you said. Days, Cook? How many exactly?’

  ‘Well, as far as I know, old Mr Bell found him wandering around the wood on Christmas Day evening and took him in. He let him out for a run on Boxing Day morning, which was when little Billy found him. He hid him in here. I saw the children from the kitchen window taking turns to go the stable and wondered what on earth they were up to. I went out to check when there was nobody around and found the puppy.’ Cook looked Nancy in the eye. ‘Anyway, you’re the one who wanted little Billy to be happy and start talking, so I wasn’t going to tell on him. Oh Nancy,’ Cook said, ‘I’ve been coming out to feed the pup and make sure he’s warm.’

  Nancy sighed and shook her head. ‘Whatever will we do? The puppy can’t stay here. It needs to be properly fed and looked after.’ Nancy wrinkled up her nose.

  Cook roared with laughter. ‘It’s just doggy smell, Nancy.’

  ‘Well, it can’t stay here and that’s that,’ she replied. They stood in silence listening to the storm and Nancy walked across to the puppy, knelt down and stroked him. He jumped up, trying to lick her. ‘Goodness, you’re a lively one,’ she said. ‘I know a million things about children, Cook, but nothing about dogs.’

  Cook looked at her sadly. ‘He’s called Oliver.’

  ‘Oh, I see you can talk to dogs now, can you, Cook?’

  ‘Very funny, Nancy,’ she replied. ‘Look this what I know. Mr Bell heard Billy chatting to Oliver on Boxing Day morning, saying his daddy had read him a story about an orphan boy called Oliver Twist, and as the puppy had no home that’s what he named him. He said they could be orphans and best friends together.’

  ‘Then why in Heaven’s name,’ said Nancy, ‘didn’t Billy take the puppy back to the caretaker’s cottage.’

  ‘Because, Nancy, little Billy found Oliver in the woods; he had no idea that Mr Bell knew anything about him. He was totally unaware that Mr Bell had seen them together, let alone heard them. You know what Mr Bell is like, he doesn’t get involved, and when he saw Billy hide Oliver in the stable he assumed the puppy would eventually either come back to his cottage or find his way home.’

  ‘Oh, Cook, whatever will we do?’

  ‘Do you think we should take him back to Mr Bell’s cottage?’

  They paused for a moment and looked towards the cottage but all the lights were off and there was no smoke coming from the chimney. ‘Well, I’m not knocking him up out of bed,’ Nancy said.

  ‘Look, I’ve given Oliver some water and good wholesome food, along with some extra blankets,’ Cook said. ‘He’ll be safe from the storm in here tonight, and we can decide what to do tomorrow. Now we have to go inside and warm up, Nancy, or we’ll get pneumonia and that won’t help anyone.’

  Nancy and Cook opened the stable door and Oliver scampered around outside for a couple of minutes, then hurried back inside. They dried him, gave him some water, then snuggled him up in the big blankets Cook had brought. The storm was beginning to die down now and Oliver lay curled up and content. He looked up at Nancy. ‘Don’t look at me like that,’ she said, then smiled. ‘Be back tomorrow little one.’

  Nancy and Cook, arm in arm, returned to the warmth of the kitchen, where Cook insisted there would be a good strong cup of tea waiting for Nancy when she had changed into some dry clothes.

  A few minutes later, Nancy was sitting in one of the comfortable chairs at either side of the still-hot range. Cook carried over two hot steaming mugs of tea, then sat down opposite her. There was a comfortable silence until suddenly Nancy looked at Cook.

  ‘What is it now, for Heaven’s sake, Nancy?’

  ‘Cook, where did you get those blankets?’

  ‘Cake, cake, I forgot the cake! Woooh, silly me. Where is my head tonight?’ Cook said, ignoring her.

  ‘Cook?’

  ‘You know fine well I got them from your secret stash in the attic, Nancy Harmer. Now drink your tea and eat your cake.’

  The two friends sat together as their feet warmed by the oven.

  ‘A puppy, Cook! I never would have believed it.’

  ‘Well, it was you that was forever on bended knee, praying for a miracle.’

  ‘Dear God, Cook, I didn’t mean a dog.’

  ‘Well then, Nancy Harmer, you should be more specific when you pray.’ Cook roared with laughter at her own joke.

  Nancy sighed. ‘I knew there was trouble brewing,’ she said.

  What to Do, What to Do?

  Nancy hardly slept for the rest of the night. Every time the wind strengthened she got up and looked out towards the stables. She turned to her holy pictures. ‘A dog,’ she said. ‘Really? Is that your answer? A puppy that needs feeding, taking for walks? It’s not like I have anything better to do, is it? I’ve looked after hundreds of children and I know exactly what to do with them, what to say, how to help them. I fail once and you send me a puppy. Well, thank you for that. Now I have a child that won’t talk to me but spends his time talking to stars in the sky, one that is refusing to walk and wants to go to Heaven and you send me a puppy. Well, that solves all my problems doesn’t it?’

  Nancy was feeling just a little bit angry not to mention out of her depth. It wasn’t just that the puppy needed looking after. It was what Cook had said about little Billy. His little eyes were lit up like none of them had ever seen, apparently, so how would he feel when the puppy was taken away? Because it must belong to somebody, although how it had got here in the first place God only knew. ‘Yes,’ she said, to her holy pictures. ‘You know what’s going on, don’t you? Well, if this is your idea of a miracle then I am completely bemused and you will have to explain this yourself. Am I to understand that this puppy will solve all our problems?’

  Nancy sighed. She would have to tell everyone about the puppy, and break the news to Billy when it was taken away. Cook should have told her sooner, yet Nancy knew her friend’s heart had been in the right place. Nancy’s anger was suddenly replaced by a sinking feeling inside. How in God’s name will I tell Mother? Sister Mary Joseph on the other hand will be highly amused, no doubt. Oh Billy, Nancy thought, what on earth am I going to do?

  Nancy got up and went along the corridor into the children’s bedroom. She sat on the little chair next to Billy’s bed and patted his shoulder.
‘Don’t pretend you’re asleep,’ she whispered. He turned over and gazed into her eyes. ‘I hear you found a puppy, young man.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘it was all my fault. Martha – I mean, some of the children helped me. I’m sorry,’ he said again, looking frightened.

  ‘Well,’ said Nancy, wiping his tears away with the edge of her apron, ‘shall I tell you something?’ He nodded. ‘You must have made some wonderful friends and for them to help you like that they must think you are very special indeed.’ There it was, thought Nancy, the sparkle in his eyes. ‘When you’re frightened or upset, it’s always your best friends that help. You’re lucky, Billy, to have such good friends, and I think you’ve been very brave and extremely clever.’

  Billy sat up in bed. ‘We’ve been so worried, Aunty Nancy,’ he said. As Nancy sat holding his hand, he told her about taking the cakes and the straw and Nancy had to hold her apron up more than once to stifle the laughter threatening to burst out. It was quite a speech and, most importantly, he hadn’t mentioned the stars in the sky once. Little Billy’s heart was healing, and Nancy was about to break it again. Well, she couldn’t have that; something had to be done. Nancy settled Billy down and tucked him in. ‘Somewhere there’ll be an answer to this,’ she told him. ‘You leave it with me and I’ll sort it out if you’ll go back to sleep. I need a strong cup of tea – this is a problem of epic proportions,’ she told him, smiling. Little Billy didn’t understand what that meant but he was comforted. Aunty Nancy was really rather wonderful.

  ‘Do you promise, Aunty Nancy?’ he whispered.

  ‘I promise, Billy,’ she replied.

  The next morning, Nancy went downstairs to see Cook who called out, ‘Slept well?’

  ‘Don’t be funny,’ Nancy replied. ‘I need to know what to do about Oliver,’ she said.

  ‘I’ve made him a nice breakfast.’ Cook handed her a bowl. ‘Now, away with you. I have a houseful of people to feed and you’re under my feet.’

  Nancy looked at Cook who was smirking. ‘You are just loving this, aren’t you?’ Cook roared with laughter and Nancy left to make her way over to the stable, where Oliver was delighted to see her. She watched him gobble his breakfast, then went to the door and looked outside. ‘We have to get you out of here,’ she said. ‘You need a good run around, to do your, erm, well, your business,’ she said, and let the puppy out. Oliver bounded over to the wood and she watched as he ran around the trees and scampered through the snow. Every now and again he would return to Nancy and, standing on his back legs with his front paws on her knees, stare up at her, wagging his tail. ‘What is it, boy?’

  Oliver barked.

  ‘Quieten down,’ said Nancy. ‘We have to figure out what to do with you.’ She set off around the wood, Oliver trotting beside her. ‘What to do, what to do, oh my goodness, what am I going to do? It’s my day off, Oliver. I’m supposed to be having a lovely lie-in and going to see my friend. I hadn’t planned on walking around the wood half freezing myself this time in the morning, thank you.’

  Oliver sniffed and looked up at Nancy. ‘Never mind looking at me with those big puppy dog eyes. It doesn’t help.’ Oliver kept looking over to his left and back at Nancy again. ‘What can you see, pet?’ she said stroking his head. Suddenly she realised what he was looking at. ‘Of course, clever boy,’ she said. Together they hurried towards the smoke which was now billowing out from old Mr Bell’s chimney. She went straight to the cottage and knocked and Oliver barked. ‘Ssssh, be quiet,’ she said. Nancy waited then knocked again. Still there was no answer. She was beginning to shiver uncontrollably and Oliver began once more to bark. She knocked again and, at last, heard a bolt being pulled back and the door opened.

  ‘Found the puppy then, have you?’ he said.

  Nancy looked stunned. ‘Dear God, am I the only person in the world who didn’t know about him?’

  Mr Bell gave a low chuckle. ‘Been watching the goings-on, I have,’ he told Nancy. ‘Seen Cook running back and forwards. Kept hoping the basket in her hand was for me.’

  ‘Look,’ Nancy said, ‘I’d rather not die of pneumonia on your doorstep so will you take him until I can sort something out?’

  Mr Bell opened the door wider to let the puppy in, then closed it.

  ‘I’ll take that as a yes,’ muttered Nancy. Then, satisfied for now, she hurried back to the comfort of her room, where she changed into warmer clothes and hurried along to the kitchenette for a hot cup of tea.

  Nancy sat quietly listening to the familiar sounds of the house around her. People were getting up and going about their business. She looked at the kitchen clock. Well, another crisis averted and all before seven in the morning. She would tell Dolly where Oliver was and who would let the children and staff know all about it. The rest could be sorted when she got home later. Nancy heaved a sigh of relief. She returned to her room and heard the children walk past on their way to breakfast. She put on her best hat and coat then left to get the trolley bus to visit her friend Tilly, feeling very pleased with herself. What tales she had to tell her friend. Tilly, she knew, would be highly amused.

  After breakfast, Billy told the other children that Aunty Nancy had found Oliver and they were extremely relieved to hear they weren’t all in deep trouble. ‘She wasn’t cross at all and she said she’d think of something. She promised.’

  ‘Well,’ said Martha, ‘if Aunty Nancy promised, everything will be all right.’

  ‘If everyone knows about him, we can just ask to go and see him,’ Billy said, ‘and we can ask Cook for food for him.’

  The children were all very excited indeed. When Sister Mary Joseph came into the playroom they all ran over to her.

  ‘Sister, can we go and see the puppy?’

  ‘He’ll be hungry now, Sister.’

  ‘Oh Sister, he is ever so lovely.’

  ‘We need to ask Cook for food for him.’

  Sister Mary Joseph listened to the children’s cries and wondered, not for the first time, why Nancy was always away when these things happened. She had absolutely no idea what they were talking about. ‘Puppy, what puppy? Children, is this a game?’

  ‘No, Sister, the puppy in the stable that came at Christmas.’

  Sister Mary Joseph was completely confused. ‘I am sorry, children, there is no puppy in a stable.’

  ‘There is, there is, we can show you, Sister, really we can.’

  When Caroline, one of the helpers, came along, Sister Mary Joseph asked her to help put the children’s hats and coats on. Maybe if they saw the empty stable, that would solve the problem. It was very strange indeed.

  Five very excitable children almost dragged Sister Mary Joseph down the stairs, along the corridor and out of the door leading to the stable. ‘Hurry up, Sister,’ they called, then let go of her hand and ran to the stable, pulling open the door. When Sister caught up with the children they were standing silently inside the stable. Suddenly Billy ran over and began to dig through the straw, throwing the blankets and dressing gowns all over before turning to the children and a very shocked Sister Mary Joseph. Little Billy Miller sat amongst the straw in the empty stable and began to sob. ‘She lied,’ he cried, ‘Aunty Nancy lied.’

  The Tallest Christmas Tree in the World

  Billy thought his heart would burst open and his throat hurt badly with unshed tears. He was too angry to cry. He didn’t believe anybody any more. Aunty Nancy had promised she’d sort Oliver out but she hadn’t after all. Oliver had gone. They had taken him away and he would never see him again. Billy remembered how good it had felt to play with him. It had made Billy feel all happy inside, like when he played trains. He’d told the puppy all about Mummy and Daddy being stars in the sky and how he had been the driver on the Ragdoll Express. It was easier to talk to Oliver than anyone else: he understood and would wag his tail furiously, making Billy laugh.

  Billy Miller might be only five years old but he was nearly six and Daddy had said that when he was six he would be a b
ig boy and they would go to the train station together and ride on the steam train. Billy could forget about that now. The Ragdoll Express was fun, but it wasn’t real. It was just pretend. Mummy had told him that pretend things were fun but not real. There was no steam or hissing sounds like a real train made. Daddy had bought Billy books about trains and they had read them over and over again. Billy had no idea where they were now. It didn’t matter anyway: without Daddy it was no fun – and he didn’t want to be here any more, where people made promises they didn’t keep.

  There was a pain inside him that was getting stronger and stronger, a grief that would not leave him, and young Billy Miller began to sob, his small shoulders shaking. Until, finally, in anger he screamed at the injustice of what the world had done to him. They would come looking for him soon, but he wouldn’t be here. He was going to run away and never come back. They had been playing hide and seek that afternoon before it got too dark to play out, but Billy was fed up with playing games. He walked through the wood, kicking the snow in anger. His face was red with the cold but he didn’t care in the least. He stepped out of the wood and found himself at the large iron gates. If he was going to do it, it would have to be done now. He could hear his name being called. He looked around but there was nobody about.

  He made up his mind. He ran out of the gates onto Sandyford Road and kept running until he was out of breath. He stopped for a moment and looked around. It was only a few days after Christmas but there were lots of people on the streets.

  Jesmond was a busy area, full of houses and corner shops, and many trolley buses ran along Sandyford Road to the centre of Newcastle upon Tyne. Children were playing in the snow wherever he looked. Billy stood against a wall and watched a young child being pulled on a sledge by his father. How wonderful that looked, he thought. He continued to watch them, day-dreaming about how it would feel to be pulled around on a sledge. The door opened behind them and a lady came out carrying hot drinks. Billy closed his eyes and imagined the taste of whatever was in those mugs she was carrying. It would be hot cocoa or something else just as wonderful, he just knew it. Bet they’ve got a dog as well, he thought and he kicked the snow angrily. He watched the little boy get picked up and swung around before being carried indoors. There were pretty lights on the Christmas tree in the window and he watched them twinkling until the lady closed the curtains. It wasn’t fair, it just wasn’t fair.