Claude’s Christmas Adventure: The must-read Christmas dog book of 2018!

Daisy glared at the ferry official as she took the voucher. As if a free drink could make them forget that Claude was at home, alone, scared and probably – knowing Claude – hungry.

Still, no point turning down a free G&T.

‘What if it was emergency? A matter of life and death? Would you turn the boat around then?’ It had to be worth a try. In fact, Daisy thought there wasn’t much she wouldn’t try right now. One way or another, they had to get home to Claude. It wouldn’t be Christmas without the furriest member of their family there to share it.

‘That depends,’ Henri said, rather too knowingly. ‘On whether the life and death in question was human or canine. Now, if you’ll excuse me …’ He turned away and beckoned the next person in what Daisy now realised was a rather lengthy queue to the desk.

She sighed. Plan A was an abject failure. Time for Plan B. Grabbing another few voucher postcards from the rack when the official wasn’t looking, Daisy headed off to find the rest of the family, dragging Jay along behind her.

Oliver was waiting in the bar with Bella and the twins. He already had a pint in front of him, which Daisy took as a sign he wasn’t planning on driving when they reached the continent. Mind you, there were another five hours before they got there. As long as he didn’t have too many more, maybe she could talk him into it.

Surely it had to be his turn to take charge for a change.

She tossed the vouchers onto the table, and sank into the plush velvet of the bench seat, Jay beside her, arms still clamped around her middle.

‘Restaurant was full. But we have crisps here.’ Oliver held out a packet. Daisy ignored it. ‘No luck getting the boat turned around?’ he asked, eyebrows raised.

Daisy’s shoulders tensed. ‘Feel free to say I told you so.’

‘It was worth a try,’ Oliver said, with a gentle shrug. She supposed even oblivious husbands had to realise eventually that there was only so far their wives could be pushed. Even if she knew he was thinking it inside. He’d made it quite clear how ridiculous he thought the idea of asking them to stop the ferry was. But she’d had to do something. Jay had been staring up at her with big wet eyes, the twins were wailing, and even Bella looked sad instead of sardonic. And just thinking about Claude … all alone, shivering in the cold, dreaming about doggy treats. It just broke her heart.

‘So, what do we do now?’ Bella asked. Daisy studied her daughter. Was there a hint of enthusiasm around her edges? It had been so long since she’d seen Bella enthusiastic about anything, she couldn’t be sure. ‘I mean, we have to go back, right? Spend Christmas at Maple Drive?’

No, that was definitely enthusiasm. But what for? Going home? Daisy could understand not wanting to go to France for Christmas – Bella had made her opinions on that idea very clear. But what was it about Maple Drive that made Bella want to be there particularly? Because heaven knew she had complained enough about home over the last year too.

There was definitely something going on with her daughter, and Daisy was determined to find out what it was. Just as soon as she’d disentangled the still sobbing Jay, fed the twins, and figured out what to do about Claude.

‘But I guess that will still take a while, right?’ Bella went on. ‘We need to do something in the meantime. Like … a social media campaign! Yeah, we need to start a Find Claude campaign! We could put his photo up on the internet, and get people to share it and everyone in Britain can watch out for him and report in sightings and—’

‘I sincerely doubt that Claude has wandered any further than Maple Drive,’ Oliver said, drily. ‘In fact, he’s probably still sitting on the front steps of our house.’

Bella deflated at her father’s words, and Daisy glared at him.

‘It’s a brilliant idea,’ she said, patting her daughter’s hand.

Bella perked up again. ‘Great! Then I can have my phone back? To start Find Claude?’ Her phone. Of course. That explained everything.

‘First things first.’ Daisy picked up the vouchers and handed two to Bella. ‘Get me a Diet Coke, and an apple juice for Jay, please?’ The gin and tonic would have to wait, unfortunately.

Bella rolled her eyes, but at least did as she was asked. Daisy decided that this was progress.

‘So,’ Oliver said, handing Jay a napkin to wipe his nose on. ‘What do we do now? Put out some sort of tear jerker video through the major news outlets, telling Claude that we’re not angry, we just want to know that he’s safe?’ Daisy ignored his sarcastic tone.

‘We do need to make sure that Claude is safe,’ Daisy said, thinking aloud. ‘She’s right about that. Perhaps we could call home to one of our neighbours? Ask them to look out for him?’

‘Do we even have any of our neighbours’ numbers?’ Oliver frowned. ‘Honestly, I can’t even remember most of their names.’

‘Well … I think I might have Mrs Templeton’s in my phone somewhere. From that neighbourhood watch thing she tried to rope us into.’ Obviously, it would be better if she had someone else’s number – anyone else’s number – but this was an emergency.

‘Do you really think that Mrs Templeton is going to go out hunting for Claude then feed him dog biscuits until Boxing Day, just because we asked? She’s not exactly Claude’s biggest fan, you know.’

‘Or ours.’ Somehow, Mrs Templeton always seemed to be around when Claude or one of the kids was doing something they shouldn’t be. Daisy half thought that the old bat spent her days peeking around her curtains waiting to catch them in the act. She sighed. ‘I don’t see that we’ve got much choice. We don’t know anyone else, and we can’t leave Claude all alone there. Maybe if we explain that we’re going to head back as soon as we can, she might agree to help us out?’

‘Are we?’ Oliver asked. ‘So we’re canning the whole idea of Christmas at your parents’ new “chateau”?’ He put air quotes around the last word. Daisy had a feeling he wasn’t expecting much from his in-laws’ latest property purchase. Not that she blamed him. She was expecting mice and potentially crumbling masonry.

‘I think we have to, don’t you?’ Daisy said. ‘We can try to get seats on the first ferry back. I’ll call Mum and Dad and explain. I’m sure they’ll understand.’

Oliver looked rather less convinced, but really, what else could they do? ‘Okay then, so the first thing is to retrieve the phones. Give me the key?’ That, at least, Oliver seemed pleased about. Even Jay perked up for a moment at the prospect of getting his tablet back.

‘Fine,’ Daisy huffed. Reaching into her jeans pocket, she felt around for the tiny silver key she knew she’d put there.

Nothing.

As Oliver watched with a look of mounting horror, Daisy pulled out a stack of used tissues, a rogue dummy, a receipt from the petrol station, two jelly babies and a glittery green bow from the top of a present.

But no little silver key.

‘Maybe there’s a pay phone?’ she said, hopefully, as Oliver’s forehead clunked against the table.

(#ulink_4ce9bb54-f730-58eb-b8d5-2a94d59f664a)

Jack couldn’t remember the last time he walked a dog. When he was growing up, they’d had dogs as family pets – usually something of a decent size, like a Labrador or a Border Collie. Never anything as small as Claude. But the last dog had passed away not long before his dad followed his mum up to heaven, just after Jack enlisted, and since then … well, the army lifestyle hadn’t been very conducive to pet ownership.

He glanced down at Claude, trotting along beside him at the end of the sparkly pink lead, his oversized black ears perked up and listening to the world around them. Maybe he’d check if his rental agreement could be amended to allow pets. He knew at the moment they were forbidden, but perhaps that could be fixed. Or if he moved …

He’d already put an email in to his boss to see if it might be possible to get a transfer. Maple Drive hadn’t lived up to his expectations at all. No point hanging around to see if things changed; they never did, in his experience. No, it was time to move on and start looking elsewhere. But in the meantime, maybe a dog would give him the companionship he craved.

A proper dog, though. One with a decent tail for wagging, and less obtrusive ears.

‘Well, I guess we’d better see if anyone around here knows where your owners are, boy.’ Great, now he was even talking to the dog. That’s how hard up for human connection he was.

Except … he’d connected with Holly. At least, he thought he had. It had been a while since he’d felt that sort of connection with, well, anyone. Perhaps he’d been imagining it. Perhaps she’d just been thinking ‘Who is this strange man in my house?’ As well as ‘Who is this strange dog?’

All in all, it had been a strange encounter all around. Although that didn’t mean he wasn’t already humming with the anticipation of seeing her again later.

But first he had to finish his round. And find something to do with Claude, who was sticking very close as he trotted alongside.

‘I just hope someone in one of these houses knows how to get in touch with Mr and Mrs McCawley.’ Who knew what he’d have to do with Claude otherwise. Claude moved a little closer again, almost tripping Jack over, as if he had the exact same fears. Maybe he did, Jack allowed, as he did a little hop-jump to avoid getting tangled in Claude’s lead. Nobody liked to be left alone, after all.

Jack knew that feeling. Except he hadn’t been left, exactly. He’d chosen to leave. He had to remember that.

The first couple of houses they came to were dark. Jack knocked on the doors anyway, as he pushed their Christmas cards and bills through the letterbox, but there was no answer. The next door was opened by a harried-looking young woman with a baby in her arms, and Jack brightened. This house had to be a better shot. After all, if the mum was home with the baby, surely she’d have more contact with the rest of the community.

‘Hi, I was wondering if you could help me. I’m trying to get hold of this little guy’s owners. The McCawleys. At number 11.’ Jack kept a friendly smile on his face throughout, but it didn’t seem to register. The woman shook her head, grabbing the small pile of post from his hand without even glancing at Claude.

‘No thanks,’ she mumbled, as she shut the door.

Jack sighed. He’d known that finding someone who knew the McCawleys well enough to be able to fill him in on their movements was a long shot, but he hadn’t expected it to be so hard to even find someone willing to listen to him.