Werepuppy and the Werepuppy on Holiday Read online

  ‘And when he howled all night and disgraced himself on the carpet and bit the other guests I’m sure they wouldn’t really mind that either,’ said Dad sarcastically.

  ‘How about if Wolfie stayed in the car then? I could sleep in the car too just to make sure he’s all right and – ‘

  ‘Micky,’ said Mum. ‘We’ve been through this a dozen times. Stop it. Wolfie’s going into the dog shelter. Now, I can appreciate it’s very upsetting for you, so I’ll take him in if you like.’

  ‘No. If he’s got to stay there then I’ll take him,’ said Micky. He had his arms tightly round Wolfie, his cheek pressed hard against his head. Wolfie squirmed and whimpered a little, starting to feel uneasy.

  Dad drew up outside Webb’s Dog Shelter and Wolfie gave a sudden startled yelp.

  ‘Here, Wolfie. A little treat,’ said Granny Boot quickly, delving in her handbag. She popped two chocolate toffees in Wolfie’s mouth. ‘There now. Take him in quickly, Micky.’

  Micky gathered up his pet and carried him to the door. Wolfie scrabbled to escape. He sniffed the air, tensed, and then let out a long howl, chocolate drooling down his chin.

  ‘I recognize that howl!’ said Miss Webb, opening the door.

  Her twin labradors, Rough and Tumble, growled, and little Jeannie the Scottie scuttled out of harm’s way. They obviously recognized Wolfie too.

  ‘Shall I take him?’ said Miss Webb. ‘Here, boy. Remember me?’

  Wolfie howled harder. He twisted and turned, scrabbling and scratching Micky desperately, his amber eyes big with betrayal.

  ‘Oh Wolfie, I’m sorry,’ said Micky. ‘It’s not my fault, honest. They won’t let you come on holiday with us, and I know it’s not fair, and I’d give anything for you to come too. Please don’t look like that. It’s only for a week and then I’ll come and get you.’

  ‘Don’t worry about him. We’ll see he’s OK and make a big fuss of him,’ said Miss Webb, holding out her arms for Wolfie.

  Wolfie stiffened all over and bared his teeth, snarling. He did his best to cling to Micky, practically winding his paws round his neck.

  ‘Oh Wolfie, please, you’ve got to try and be a good dog,’ said Micky, though he knew how unfair it was to expect a baby werewolf to be anything but bad.

  He gave Wolfie one last long loving hug and kiss, and Wolfie stopped struggling and snarling for a moment and licked Micky mournfully, coating his cheeks with chocolate.

  ‘Better go now, while he’s quiet,’ said Miss Webb, taking hold of Wolfie.

  The moment she held him Wolfie stopped being quiet. He howled and growled and snarled and snapped, so that Miss Webb had her work cut out holding on to him.

  ‘Here’s his blanket and all his bits,’ said Micky, giving her the carrier bag. ‘And for a special treat he loves chocolate toffees. I’ll just run and get another toffee or two from my gran.’

  ‘Well, that’s not really very good for his teeth,’ said Miss Webb, shaking her head.

  Wolfie’s teeth certainly seemed in very good shape at the moment. He was doing his best to bite hard.

  ‘Oh Wolfie,’ said Micky helplessly. ‘You do understand, don’t you? I’m not leaving you here for good.’

  Wolfie seemed to think Micky was leaving him for bad. He was working himself up into such a state that Micky couldn’t bear it. He ran to Granny Boot for a whole handful of chocolate toffees.

  ‘Here, Wolfie,’ he said, offering the treat.

  Wolfie usually gobbled chocolate toffees in one gulp. But this time he seized just one, holding it in his teeth, looking straight at Micky.

  ‘What is it, Wolfie? You can eat it,’ said Micky.

  Wolfie didn’t swallow. He’d stopped struggling. He stayed still, his eyes bigger than ever, glowing gold, looking straight at Micky.

  Micky looked back at Wolfie. He blinked back his tears. Wolfie was saying something, as clearly as if he were speaking. Micky nodded and Wolfie nodded too. Then Wolfie swallowed his chocolate toffee and started chewing Miss Webb’s fingers instead – and Micky gave him one last pat and trailed back to the car.

  ‘About time too,’ said Dad. ‘We’re never going to get there today at this rate.’

  ‘Wolfie will be fine, Micky,’ said Mum.

  ‘Wolfie will probably be in his element chatting up all the lady dogs,’ said Meryl.

  ‘And he’ll have fun winning all the dog fights,’ said Mandy.

  ‘Isn’t it quiet in the car without Wolfie,’ said Mona.

  ‘Micky’s crying,’ said Marigold.

  Granny Boot didn’t say anything at all, but she passed Micky her hanky and offered him her bag of chocolate toffees when all his sisters were looking the other way. Micky took one. He was hidden behind the big hanky so no one actually saw him eating it.

  ‘Do you mind if we have the window open a bit, Granny?’ he asked.

  ‘Of course not, dearie, I like a bit of a blow,’ said Granny Boot, winding the window down.

  Micky stuck his head half out of the window and let his arm hang out too.

  ‘Sit down properly, you silly boy,’ said Dad. ‘That’s dangerous!’

  Micky moped again. Granny Boot offered him another chocolate toffee. And then another. And another.

  Micky kept edging up to the open window.

  ‘Are you feeling all right, pet?’ Granny Boot whispered.

  ‘I – I feel a bit sick,’ Micky mumbled.

  ‘Well, no wonder! You’ve nearly finished the chocolate toffees, and I had a great big jumbo bag full when we set out!’ Granny Boot sounded worried. ‘Ooh dear, I shouldn’t have let you have so many.’

  ‘You shouldn’t have let Micky have so many what?’ said Marigold.

  ‘It’s not fair,’ Mona moaned. ‘Granny’s been giving Micky toffees and we haven’t had any.’

  ‘I want a chocolate toffee!’ Marigold demanded.

  ‘Pipe down you lot!’ Dad shouted, but he stopped at the next motorway service station and bought a big bag of chocolate toffees for everyone. Micky still claimed his fair share.

  ‘Don’t make yourself ill, lovey,’ Granny Boot whispered. ‘I’ve never known you eat so many. It’s almost as if you were feeding young Wolfie too.’

  Micky fidgeted and hung his head.

  ‘He’ll be all right, you’ll see,’ said Granny Boot, putting her arm round him.

  ‘I hope so,’ said Micky, snuggling close.

  5…

  The Amber Hotel looked lovely, with hanging baskets of flowers, tubs of geraniums all round the porch, and honeysuckle and roses climbing up the white walls. The doors and window frames were shiny yellow, as if a giant Micky had just coloured them in with his crayon.

  ‘Doesn’t it look wonderful?’ said Mum.

  ‘There! We’re going to have a great holiday,’ said Dad, putting his arm round her.

  ‘It looks ever so friendly and welcoming,’ said Granny Boot.

  ‘Not to some people,’ Micky muttered. ‘I’m surprised they haven’t got barbed wire round the flowerbeds and notices all over saying DOGS KEEP OUT!’

  The lady who owned the hotel was standing in reception all smiles, but Micky glowered at her.

  She showed them to their rooms. Mum and Dad seemed very happy with theirs, and Granny Boot loved the old-fashioned furniture, admiring the art deco mirrors and Lloyd Loom chairs, but the girls were less impressed.

  ‘We haven’t got an en suite bathroom! I can’t go trailing down the corridor in my nightie, someone might see me!’ said Meryl.

  ‘We haven’t got a telly in our room and I wanted to see a bit of Grandstand,’ said Mandy.

  ‘No television! How am I going to watch Neighbours and Home and Away?’ Mona wailed.

  ‘And where’s the mini-bar?’ said Marigold, rushing round the room she was sharing with Micky and Granny Boot. ‘All my friends say you get special mini-bars in your room in hotels and you can have all these ice-cold cans of Coke whenever you want. And you get baby bottles of drink,