Werepuppy and the Werepuppy on Holiday Read online

  ‘OK, OK,’ said Mandy, giving Micky a quick hug. ‘You all right, little pal? Those thugs didn’t hurt you, did they?’

  ‘No, but they hurt you, didn’t they? You’re going to need Wolfie and me to protect you every delivery day now, isn’t that right?’

  ‘Yeah. Well. Maybe,’ said Mandy, brushing herself down and grinning. ‘Here, Wolfie! Here boy! Come and get thanked.’

  Wolfie lolloped back, chomping on the jeans as if they were chewing-gum. He pranced in front of Mandy, letting her pat and praise him profusely, his amber eyes glistening.

  Micky started to gather up the crumpled newspapers and Wolfie tried to help. He’d got so overexcited now that he scattered the papers further, and chewed the few he did collect into soggy pulp.

  ‘Wolfie! No, boy. Here, leave off,’ said Mandy, but she couldn’t get cross again.

  Micky tried to piece all the floating parts together, but as Wolfie had chewed the edges where the page numbers were it was a very hard job. There was a colouring competition on the children’s page which caught his eye, a seaside scene. He’d maybe have a go at colouring it in now he had a yellow crayon for the sand. There were seaside adverts on the opposite page, including a special last-minute deal for a week in a big hotel on the south coast cliffs. The Amber Hotel. There was a blurry photo of it, too. Micky decided to colour the roof and doors and windows yellow when he was going in for the competition.

  It was almost dark by the time Mandy and Micky and Wolfie got home.

  Mum was looking out for them.

  ‘There you are! I was getting really worried. First Dad goes missing, and then you three.’

  ‘Dad’s back then?’ said Micky, wondering if he and Wolfie should make themselves scarce again.

  ‘Yes,’ said Mum, but she was smiling now. ‘He was late because his boss took him for a drink.’

  ‘Dad hasn’t lost his job, has he, Mum?’ said Mandy.

  ‘No, thank goodness. Things have picked up at his work. They’ve got a new order in. The boss is very pleased with your dad,’ said Mum, obviously enormously relieved.

  Dad was sitting at the kitchen table eating fish and chips. Marigold was on his lap, scrounging chips from his plate.

  ‘I hear Wolfie helped himself to my tea,’ said Dad, but he was smiling.

  ‘Sorry, Dad,’ said Micky. He nudged Wolfie, to try to make him look sorry too.

  Dad laughed. ‘Oh well. As long as I don’t have to go and fetch myself fish and chips every teatime. Anyway, things are looking up, chaps. My boss was even hinting at a wage rise. So we could maybe have had a bit of a holiday after all. Still, I suppose everywhere will be booked up now.’

  ‘Hey, I know where we could go,’ said Micky. He delved into Mandy’s shopping bag amongst the totally chewed-up leftover papers and tried to piece one together. ‘Here it is! Look– the Amber Hotel. A week’s bargain break.’

  ‘Couldn’t we go on a week’s bargain break to Disneyland?’ said Marigold.

  ‘You never give up, do you, pet?’ said Dad, feeding her another chip. ‘No, we can’t quite make it to Disneyland - but let’s have a look at this hotel deal, Micky.’

  ‘Oh, I love that bit of the coast,’ said Mum, reading the advert too. ‘Do you think we could really afford it? Tell you what. My mum could come on holiday with us. She could really do with a bit of sea air after that bout of bronchitis.’

  ‘Oh great! Can Granny Boot really come too?’ said Micky, who adored his gran.

  ‘Mmm,’ said Dad, not sounding at all sure he liked the idea. He was nowhere near as fond of Granny Boot as Micky was.

  ‘Then she could always babysit for us in the evenings,’ said Mum, wheedling a little.

  ‘Ah. Yes. Well, OK then,’ said Dad. ‘So we’d need… three rooms. One for us. One for Meryl and Mandy and Mona. And then Granny Boot can share with Micky and Marigold.’

  ‘And Wolfie,’ said Micky.

  There was a sudden silence.

  ‘What about Wolfie?’ Micky repeated.

  Wolfie barked insistently, as if he was asking the same question.

  3…

  Micky couldn’t believe it.

  ‘What do you mean?’ he shouted. ‘Wolfie’s got to come too! I can’t go on holiday without Wolfie.’

  ‘Come on now, Micky, calm down,’ said Mum.

  ‘If you keep shouting like that you won’t be going on any holiday,’ said Dad.

  ‘I don’t want to go on holiday – not without Wolfie,’ Micky yelled.

  ‘Good,’ said Marigold. ‘We’ll leave you and Wolfie at home.’

  ‘We can’t leave Wolfie,’ said Micky, getting desperate.

  ‘Micky’s going to cry in a minute,’ said Marigold. ‘Look, he’s getting all red in the face. Baby!’

  Micky got even redder, boiling with rage. Yes, there were tears in his eyes, but it was because he was so angry. He couldn’t understand his family. How could they possibly be so mean? They all seemed happy with the idea of a holiday without Wolfie.

  Wolfie was becoming upset too, bounding from one to another, looking for reassurance.

  ‘Get off me, Wolfie. I don’t want your mangy old dog hairs all over my new skirt,’ Meryl fussed.

  ‘Down, Wolfie,’ Mandy commanded, because she was giving Wilbur rat a little ride on her shoulder.

  ‘Yuck, Wolfie’s slobbered all over me,’ Mona moaned.

  ‘Wolfie’s going for me now! Get him off me! Help help help,’ Marigold whimpered affectedly, waving her arms about. One of her fingers caught Wolfie on his soft snout, scratching him. He growled indignantly – and Marigold squealed and squirmed.

  ‘Help, Dad! He’s going to bite!’

  ‘I hope he does. I hope he bites you all – because you’re all so horrible not letting him come on holiday,’ Micky shouted.

  Wolfie growled louder in agreement, and ever so slightly nipped one of Marigold’s fat little fingers.

  Wolfie ended up banished to the garden where he howled miserably.

  Micky ended up banished to his bedroom. He howled too. He couldn’t believe how quickly everything had gone wrong, the holidays spoiled before they’d even got started. And it made it even worse knowing that it was his own fault. He was the one who’d read about the wretched hotel. He’d suggested it.

  ‘Oh Micky, don’t take on so,’ said Mum, coming into his room. ‘Look, maybe you’re getting into a state about nothing. Perhaps this Amber Hotel will let dogs stay too. There are a few hotels that don’t mind pets. Although Wolfie’s so wild I’m not sure anyone would welcome him.’

  ‘I would,’ Micky snuffled. ‘And he can’t help being a bit wild, Mum. It’s the way he was born. He’s… he’s not like other dogs.’

  ‘You can say that again,’ said Mum.

  She did her best for Wolfie, though. She phoned up the Amber Hotel. Yes, their bargain offer was still open. Yes, they had three family rooms available. Yes, they’d be delighted to accept their booking. Pets? Ah. A puppy. Mmm. Sorry. No.

  ‘We wouldn’t bring him into the hotel,’ Mum tried. ‘We could keep him in the garden. We’d try our hardest not to let him be a nuisance. It’s just my son adores his puppy and it will spoil his entire holiday if they’re separated…’

  But it was no use. The hotel said they really couldn’t take pets as well as people.

  Mum sighed and said sorry to Micky.

  ‘We can’t go then?’ said Micky, refusing to give up.

  ‘We all need a holiday, Micky,’ said Mum.

  ‘Wolfie needs a holiday,’ said Micky.

  ‘Well, he can have a holiday,’ said Mum. ‘He can go back to Webb’s Dog Shelter for the week. He’ll like that, Micky. He can meet up with all his doggy pals again.’

  Wolfie’s howls increased dramatically out in the garden. He didn’t sound as if he liked that idea at all.

  ‘Micky! Where are you, boy? Gome down here at once,’ Dad shouted, forgetting that he was the one who had banished Micky to the bedroom. �€