are a Labrador and you understand what that means.’ He looked over at his own master, Mick, who was busy talking to Adam on a park bench. As always, Adam didn’t really seem to be listening to what he was saying, concentrating instead on the massive newly built house which shadowed them.
I didn’t know much about Mick as Henry disclosed little concerning his own mission. Henry was older than me, much older, as old as the park itself. It was his right to remain quiet. You didn’t question your elders, not if you were a Labrador. But I didn’t need to question. The fact was: Mick had Henry. Therefore if Mick had a Family he had a happy one. Henry knew the Pact, its history, and its implications, better than anyone I’d ever met. Furthermore, he was an expert teacher, drawing (I assumed) on his own personal experience. So I didn’t need Henry to tell me everything about Mick. I had faith.
And anyway, I knew some things. I knew Mick used to be in the police force, with Henry by his side, but now was too old. I knew, as Adam had told Kate, that ‘he could talk for England’. I knew that he lived with Henry in one of the small, old houses across the street from the park. I knew, and the wind knew too, that the strands of hair which stretched across the top of his head didn’t really belong there. But that was about it.
I saw a woman once, leaving Henry’s house. A woman with a sad face and even sadder scent. She smelt too unhappy to be part of any Family Henry looked after, but then, I thought, she could have been having a bad day.
Henry continued, still looking over at the park bench: ‘You must, at any time of change, be careful. But you needn’t panic. I know this is the first time you have faced such a situation, but hopefully I have prepared you well. You must stay strong at all times. No matter how bad things become, no matter how many Family arguments there are, or how many times you are completely ignored, never forget that you are in control. That you have the power to make everything all right. Do you understand? Will you be strong?’
‘I do,’ I told him, with fresh confidence. ‘I will.’
‘Oh dear,’ he said, observing Mick and Adam stand up and start to walk over. ‘It looks like we won’t have time for this morning’s lesson – Advanced Wag Control. We will have to save it for tomorrow.’
As they walked over towards us, I noticed that Mick was more animated than usual, and even more eager to carry on talking. I could hear his voice: ‘I tell you, these youngsters you get nowadays, they don’t even know they’re born half the time. They take everything for granted then throw it all away. I mean look, look at that –’ (he gestured with his foot towards a broken bottle on the ground). ‘It’s disgraceful. They come in here on weekends, get drunk out of their faces, take drugs and get up to God knows what else. Mind you, I don’t need to tell you.’
Adam was surprised by this comment, probably unable to decide whether Mick was referring to his status as a parent or a teacher. ‘Well, I do see quite a few cases at school,’ he said. ‘But a lot of these kids have big problems, you know, at home. Parents on heroin, that sort of thing. Lots of really sad abuse cases as well. Given all the problems they’ve got to cope with, no wonder they struggle with their GCSEs. They just feel there’s no hope to begin with. It sounds weird, with me being a teacher there, but I’d never have sent my two to Rosewood.’
Henry suddenly seemed uncomfortable, and jumped up at Mick in a bid to get him to go home. But Mick was too absorbed in the conversation to pay much attention.
‘Well that’s the liberal perspective, I suppose,’ he said, as red blotches emerged around his neck and anger-smells floated across the air. ‘Blame everything on the wider “issues”. I’m more of a traditionalist myself, mind. These problems didn’t exist when we were young, that’s all I know. I just think we’ve chickened out, gone soft. Scared to treat kids like kids. The teachers and police and everyone are just powerless to do anything –’ Henry jumped higher, licking his master’s face. ‘OK, come on. I’ll take you home.’
Mick and Adam clipped on our leads, both smelling equally worked up.
‘Remember: be strong,’ Henry reminded me, pulling his master home.
‘Yes, Henry. I’ll remember.’
cleaning
Kate, who had taken the week off work, was on her hands and knees cleaning out one of the kitchen cupboards. She had cleaned every room since she came back from Grandma Margaret’s, and now she was starting again.
‘This house is so messy,’ she kept on telling me.
I had followed her around, trying to cheer her up, or at least offer support. But no matter how hard I wagged, the sad-smells weren’t lifting. They just lay in the air mingling with the sharp scent of detergent.
Every now and again Kate would stop, sit back on her heels, and bring her hand – the one which wasn’t holding the blue cloth – up towards her face. Each time, I thought she was going to cry but she didn’t. Instead, she took deep breaths and then resumed cleaning, even more vigorously than before.
When I heard the key in the door my heart lifted.
‘Mum, what are you doing?’ It was Hal.
‘I’m trying to sort everything out. This house is so messy.’
‘It looks cleaner and tidier than ever.’
Again she sat back, and again she raised her hand. This time, the tears broke through. ‘I just want . . . I just want to be doing something . . . I just . . .’
Hal placed his schoolbag down on the kitchen table and went slowly over to hold the raised hand. ‘I know, Mum. I know. It’s going to be OK.’
A little later and Adam came home. He went up to Kate from behind and put his arm around her stomach. ‘You smell gorgeous,’ he said, before kissing the back of her neck.
Kate winced. ‘Please, Adam, don’t. I don’t want you to . . . touch. Please.’
sign
The next morning in the park Mick barely spoke, leaving Adam to gaze uninterrupted at the massive new house and at the sign which said: ‘FOR SALE’.
Henry sniffed me, as he always did, to smell my progress.
‘How have things been since yesterday’s meeting?’ he asked me, with typical formality.
‘OK,’ I said.
‘There have been no arguments?’
‘No. No arguments.’
‘You have observed everything?’
‘Everything I could.’
‘And no sign of trouble?’
I thought of Kate, crying in the kitchen, and I told him about it.
‘All right,’ he said. ‘You must pay special attention to today’s lesson. We’ve covered Wag Control previously but today it’s Advanced Wag Control.’ Henry stood up and placed himself in front of me at a horizontal angle. ‘So far I’ve told you when to wag and when not to, but what we haven’t talked about is how fast.’
I thought of my own efforts, the day before, to try and wag away Kate’s sadness. Perhaps that was why it hadn’t worked. Perhaps I’d got the speed wrong.
‘Now as we’ve discussed before, tail-wagging is of fundamental importance in the preservation of Family well-being. After all, Prince, this is one of the few aspects of our communication system that humans are able to recognise.’
‘Right,’ I said, ready to digest more information.
‘And although humans don’t always realise it, the speed of our wag directly impacts on their own happiness. Our tails dictate the rhythm of Family life.’ His tail started to move from side to side in slow swooshes, then picked up speed progressively.
A red setter on