Free The Amazing Adventures of Freddie Whitemouse by Elizabeth Jane Howard Page A

think of the worst.’
    Charley thought as hard as he could.
    ‘Poppy coming back and finding us and taking both of us in the aeroplane to her island.’
    ‘Mrs Keeper and Hoot creeping back here in the night and dognapping us.’
    Charley felt the fur on the back of his neck stand on end.
    ‘My turn now. Major Hawkin Jones’s sister suddenly turning up and saying she wants two dogs to protect her from wicked people and we are just the ticket.’
    ‘The sister turns up but says she can’t afford to keep two dogs, so she takes you and I’m left here.’
    ‘The trouble is,’ Charley said, after the true misery of being in the refuge without Alphonse had struck him, ‘that the Worst seems so much more likely than the
Best.’
    ‘That’s a dog’s life. Do you think you could deal with the fur at the back of my ears? And I’ll try to think of a game that’s more cheerful.’
    So Charley set about grooming his friend (whose fur had got into a sad state in his absence), finishing by washing his face with such affectionate vigour that Alphonse ended up on his back with
his paws boxing Charley’s face. After a bit of rolling about, Alphonse said he gave in and they both had another good sleep.
    Charley dreamed. He was in his bed in Poppy’s room and she was calling him; ‘Charley! Up, Charley; you know you can do it!’
    He woke quite suddenly, and just had time to realise that he was in the cage with Alphonse – that he had been dreaming – when he saw that Anne had come into the cage.
    ‘Charley . . . ?’ she was saying. ‘Are you by any chance Charley?’
    He was – indeed he was. He rushed to her – he was saying,
yes!
yes!
yes!
a hundred times – wagging his tail, licking her hands, his eyes glowing with
excitement and joy. He was Charley – Poppy must have found him – he would soon be with Poppy again . . . He turned to his friend; Alphonse was sitting bolt upright gazing at him, an
expression in his large brown eyes that Charley had never seen before – of so much love and sadness . . . He went up to his friend and touched his nose.
    ‘It’s the best,’ Alphonse said, his voice so husky and small that Charley could hardly hear him.
    Then they both became aware of the man in a white coat standing outside the cage. He and Anne started talking, and Alphonse, his ears pricked, listened. What he afterwards told Charley was
something like this.
    ‘You see what I mean? They really should stay together.’
    ‘My dear Anne, they won’t want to take on a totally unknown dog – an old dog at that.’
    ‘We could at least ask them. Explain.’
    ‘We could. If only they had someone in this country to see the poodle, they just might agree – but as it is . . .’
    ‘Well, they said they’d call us to see whether we’d identified the lurcher; I could talk to them then. The little girl will be so pleased I think she would agree to
anything.’
    ‘She may, but unfortunately little girls don’t make that sort of decision. You’ll just have to find the poodle another friend . . .’ They were walking away and Alphonse
couldn’t hear any more.
    The two dogs looked at each other. Then Charley, who had not lost his exhilaration, said, ‘They were talking about you coming with me! Weren’t they?’
    ‘Talking about it, yes. But the man is quite right: Poppy’s father won’t see the point of having a second dog – and he’s the one who’ll decide.’
    ‘If only I could talk to Poppy – get her to see how much it matters . . .’
    ‘But you can’t. You can’t talk to her any more than I can. We’re not in charge, Charley. We’re dogs. We can’t choose things. It’s all part of being a
dog.’
    A shock. He had always known that he loved
    Poppy, but now he knew that he also loved his friend. It was like having a second heart, and the vision of being led away from him, leaving him lonely and sad, was more than he could bear. He
made a heroic decision.
    ‘I won’t go without you,’