Alfie All Alone (4 page)

“Alfie! Biscuit!”

Evie’s dad was calling. Alfie gave the door one last hopeful look. Ah well. He supposed a biscuit was better than nothing…

When Mum and Evie got back from school they were both looking a bit frazzled. Sam had snoozed most of the way, and then woken up just in time for everyone to say how cute he was, but now he was hungry, and cross, and a thin wailing noise was coming from his nest of blankets.

Mum sat on the sofa to feed him, and Evie curled up next to her to watch – she’d really missed seeing Sam while she was at school. Alfie jumped up too – he thought they were going to watch television together, like they usually did. But Evie squeaked in horror and pushed him off. “Alfie, no! You might squash Sam!”

Alfie’s tail drooped, and he slunk miserably into the kitchen. The baby
was going to watch all his favourite programmes with Evie instead. It wasn’t fair.

All the next week, people kept popping round with presents for the new baby, and quite often one for Evie too. Everyone seemed to think Sam was very special, and he got fussed over all the time. Alfie wasn’t quite sure why. Sam didn’t do a lot, and he certainly couldn’t do tricks like a dog could. Alfie couldn’t help wishing that things would go back to normal, and everyone would fuss over him instead, but he had a feeling it wasn’t going to happen.

But at least Alfie had been able to reclaim his place on the sofa, as Mum said she thought it was OK for Alfie to
sit there when she was feeding Sam, as long as Evie was careful not to let Alfie lick him.

“Alfie’s used to sitting there with you, Evie,” she pointed out. “It isn’t fair if he’s not allowed to any more. Just keep an eye on him.” She sat Sam up to get him to burp, and smiled. “Look, Sam’s watching Alfie’s tail wag. I should think he’ll love having Alfie for company.”

Evie scratched Alfie behind the ears, and he settled down on her lap, keeping a watchful eye on the baby. He supposed he didn’t mind sharing the sofa.

Chapter Four

“Evie! Evie! You’re going to be late for school!” Mum was calling up the stairs, sounding cross. She had Sam tucked under one arm, and he was grizzling too. “You won’t have time for breakfast!”

Evie stomped down the stairs looking very gloomy. “I don’t want any. And I don’t want to go to school either. I don’t feel very well. I’m really tired.”

Evie’s mum took a deep breath and counted to five. “I know. We all are. But it’s Friday, you can sleep in over the weekend.”

“If Sam doesn’t keep me awake all night, like he did last night,” Evie growled.

“It’s not his fault, Evie, he doesn’t understand the difference between night and day yet.” Mum was sounding really strained.

“Well, can’t you teach him?” Evie looked up at her mum and suddenly grinned. “Oh, all right. I suppose not. But I am really, really tired.” She sighed and hooked her finger into Sam’s tiny hand. “Don’t you dare nap all afternoon, Sam. Stay up and then you’ll sleep tonight!”

It hadn’t been a good week. Evie’s dad was back at work now, and it was harder to get everything done without the extra help. Sam was gorgeous, but he wasn’t sleeping well, and when he was awake he was loud. Everyone’s temper was fraying.

Alfie was trying his best to keep out of the way, but he never managed to be in the right place. Most days Evie’s mum walked into him about three times just doing the washing-up. When she got back from taking Evie to school that Friday, she tripped over Alfie while she was carrying a basket of washing, and trod on his paw, but she didn’t seem to be sorry. He held it up and whined, but all she did was snap, “Alfie! Not again! Get out of the way,
you silly dog!” Alfie limped out of the kitchen, feeling very hard done by.

He sat in the hallway, thoughtfully chewing on a small teddy bear he’d found on the stairs. He just couldn’t seem to do anything right any more. Things had been much nicer before.

At that moment, Sam started crying upstairs and Mum dashed past to go and fetch him – and saw the small pile of shredded fur that had once been a teddy. “Alfie!” she wailed, and Alfie gazed up at her. He didn’t know why she was cross – furry toys were there to be chewed, and he didn’t see what the fuss was about. But it looked like Mum didn’t agree, judging by the way she snatched up what was
left of the teddy and glared at him.

Alfie was still in disgrace when Gran popped round that afternoon, and he was delighted to see her. At last someone who actually had time to sit and scratch him behind the ears properly! He leaned against Gran’s leg affectionately. For a moment he almost wished that she would take him back to her house. Then he shook his head and snorted. No! He was Evie’s dog. He was sure that she would get over the baby thing soon, and then maybe they could go back to proper walks and more cuddling.

“You look exhausted!” Gran was saying to Mum. “Why don’t you pop upstairs and have a nap? I’ll look after Sam for you.”

Mum sighed. “I’d love to, but he’s being so grumpy today. He wouldn’t even go to his dad this morning – every time I put him down he howls. I just don’t know what’s the matter with him. Anyway, I’ve got to go and fetch Evie in a minute.”

Gran stood up firmly. “There you are then. Put him in the pushchair and I’ll take him with me and get Evie for you. You go and have a rest. Sam will probably sleep too.”

“If you’re sure…” Mum tucked Sam in, and set off upstairs, looking grateful.

Me too! Me too!
Alfie whined hopefully, bouncing round Gran’s ankles as she headed for the door. He was still desperate for more walks.

“Sorry, Alfie, I’d love to take you, but I’m not used to this pushchair and I can’t manage both of you.” She looked down at the little dog thoughtfully. “I’d better talk to Evie about you. I don’t think she’s exercising you enough.”

Alfie yelped in agreement, and she nodded to herself.

Unfortunately, Gran’s master plan for settling Sam didn’t work. At five o’clock, when she had to leave to go and get Tigger and Ben their tea, Sam was still wailing. And when Evie’s dad walked in at six, he was greeted by a howling baby, a frazzled wife and a cross daughter.

“Looks like we’re in for a fun weekend,” he joked, but nobody else thought it was funny.

Alfie watched Dad hopefully. Mum and Evie had been so stressed by Sam’s crying that they had forgotten to feed him. He nosed eagerly at his food bowl, and looked up at Dad. He wasn’t watching. Alfie sighed and trailed back to his basket, where he curled up with his back to the rest of the family. Maybe he’d better just have a sleep and try again in a bit.

A couple of hours later, Alfie was convinced he was going to starve if he didn’t get fed soon. He trotted into the living room, where Mum and Dad were taking turns to walk Sam up and down. Evie was just getting ready to go up to bed. Alfie was horrified. If Evie went to bed, they’d never remember to feed him! Desperate measures were needed. He nipped back to the kitchen.

“Oh, thank goodness,” Mum murmured, watching as Sam slumped slightly on his dad’s shoulder. “He’s going off to sleep. No, don’t stop!”

Dad nodded grimly, and resumed his trek up and down the room. “I think he’s fallen asleep,” he sighed, a couple of minutes later. “Can we risk laying him down, do you—”

It was at that moment that Alfie trotted back in, carrying his metal food bowl in his teeth. He dropped it hard on the wooden floor, and barked.

Sam shot upright and let out a blood-curdling wail.

“Alfie! You bad dog!” Mum groaned. “That’s it. Kitchen! Now! In your basket!” And she shooed him out, flapping her hands crossly.

Alfie was banished. It was the first night he’d ever spent in the kitchen, instead of curled up on the end of Evie’s bed. He was so confused. He’d only wanted his tea! Everyone else had had theirs, and he was starving.

For the next hour, Alfie and Sam howled together. Then Sam suddenly decided not to bother any more and fell
blissfully asleep; but Alfie lay in his basket, and stared at the dark kitchen. Why didn’t Evie want him upstairs? What had he done?

Didn’t she love him any more?

Chapter Five

The next morning was Saturday, and the family was having breakfast. It was always a really nice time – the beginning of the weekend, when they all had a chance to relax. They usually had something extra-nice for breakfast too. Today, not even croissants could cheer everyone up.

At least Sam seemed to be in a better
mood. He was lying in his bouncy chair in the living room.

“He’s fine,” Dad reported back after a quick check. “Seems to be enjoying himself actually – I think he’s learning to bat at that dangly toy you bought him, Evie.” He gave a long, slow sigh of relief, sat down and poured himself a large cup of coffee.

Alfie jumped up, his paws on Dad’s knee, holding his squeaky bone hopefully in his mouth. Dad was usually good for a game.

“Not now, Alfie,” Dad muttered, pushing him away gently.

Alfie went to paw at Evie’s ankles, hoping for a bit of croissant. She dangled a piece by his nose, and he gulped it down gratefully.

“Evie!” Mum said sharply. “Are you giving Alfie scraps? How many times have I told you not to feed that dog at the table?” Mum didn’t normally mind that much, but today she was tired and snappish.

“Shoo, Alfie!” Evie whispered, nudging him out from under the table with her foot.

Alfie took one look at Mum’s cross face, and trailed sadly into the living room. He sat down next to Sam. The baby was half-smiling at the bouncy animals toy stretched across the front of his chair, and vaguely waving a hand at it every so often. Alfie watched. It was quite fun. He lay down with his nose on his paws and gazed up as the little creatures jumped and danced.
Sam smelled nice – milky – and he was relaxing to be with after the tense, grumpy mood in the kitchen. Sam made little squeaky, grunting noises to himself, and Alfie wuffed quietly back, his eyes slowly closing as he drifted off for a snooze.

After a few minutes, the jingling of the toy was joined by an irritating buzz. Alfie opened one eye. Was it Sam making that noise?Was he supposed to do that? No, Sam was asleep. The buzzing was from a large fly that had landed on the baby’s arm. Alfie bristled as he watched it crawl over Sam. He hated flies, and he knew Evie’s mum did too, if ever a fly buzzed near she always shooed it away. That fly should
not
be crawling over Sam.

Alfie watched, waiting for his moment to pounce. He was so intent on the fly, that he had no idea Evie and her mum had come into the living room to check on Sam. They watched in horror as Alfie pounced, his sharp white teeth snapping on the fly – just millimetres away from Sam’s arm.

“Alfie, no!” Evie screamed, as her mum threw herself forward to grab Sam away.

Alfie had never heard Evie sound like that before – terrified and angry at the same time. He shot under the sofa and lay there cowering.

Sam hadn’t noticed the fly, but he certainly noticed when his mum snatched him out of his nice sleep. He roared angrily, and waved his arms about.

“Mum, is he OK? I can’t believe Alfie tried to bite him!” Tears were rolling down Evie’s cheeks.

Evie’s mum was breathing fast – from where she and Evie had been standing, it really had looked as though Alfie had meant to bite Sam’s arm, and
she’d been terrified. She was pushing up the sleeve of his sleepsuit, searching for marks, but he seemed fine – just cross at being woken.

“What happened? Are you all right?” Evie’s dad rushed into the room, dressing gown flapping. “Is something the matter with Sam?” he asked, taking in the scene.

“No. No, we’re all OK,” Evie’s mum said slowly.

“Dad, Alfie nearly bit Sam!” Evie sobbed, throwing her arms around him. She couldn’t believe that her lovely puppy would do such a horrible thing – but then she’d seen it with her own eyes and watched him jump at her baby brother, teeth bared.

“I don’t think he did, Evie.” Mum
sounded as though she was trying to work it all out. “Look.”

Lying on the floor next to the bouncy chair was a huge bluebottle, legs in the air, still buzzing faintly.

“You know how Alfie hates flies, he’s always snapping at them. I think he just tried to catch a fly that had landed on Sam’s arm.”

Evie lifted her head from where it was buried in her dad’s dressing gown. “Really?”

Evie’s dad was looking serious. “Are you sure?”

“Well, no, I suppose not. But Alfie’s never done anything like that before, has he?”

Evie shook her head, smiling in relief. “Never! Oh, Mum, thank
goodness you saw that fly – we’d never have known otherwise.”

“Where is Alfie?” Dad asked, looking round.

“I shouted at him and he disappeared under the sofa!” Evie went pale. “Oh, he must think we’re so angry! Poor Alfie.” Evie crouched down to look, but Alfie flinched away from her, and retreated right to the back. Evie sat up, looking hurt. “He won’t come,” she said miserably.

“You probably need to give him a bit of time.” Dad put an arm round her, and the other round Mum and Sam. “Come on into the kitchen.”

Alfie huddled under the sofa, trembling. No one had ever shouted at him like that before. Evie had behaved as though he’d done something terrible. But he’d been helping Sam! Evie’s mum was always saying that flies were horrible, dirty things. She waved them away if they got anywhere near the baby.
Did Evie and Mum think I was trying to bite Sam?
Alfie wondered.
I’d never do that! Don’t they know I’d never do that?
Alfie lay there, feeling confused. No one seemed to understand him very much here any more. He was always in trouble, and even Evie, who used to love him so much, didn’t seem to have any time for him. Maybe they really did think he was the sort of dog who would bite.

“Alfie! Alfie!” Evie was calling him. She was lying down, peering under the sofa. “Come out, Alfie, please? I didn’t mean it. Please come out, I’m so sorry for shouting at you.” Her eyes met his hopefully, and Alfie couldn’t hold back any longer.

He crept forward, tail slowly starting to wag. As he wriggled out from under the sofa, she hugged him tight, burying her face in his thick white fur. “Oh, Alfie.” Alfie put his paws on her shoulders and licked her face, tasting salt from her tears. Why was she crying? Everything was all right now. He wagged his tail, and licked her again lovingly.

“Uuurgh, Alfie…” Evie giggled and sniffed. “I’m covered in lick. Oh, I do love you.” She sighed. “I’m so sorry. I haven’t been showing it much, have I?”

Alfie wuffed encouragingly. He adored Evie, and he trusted her. Hearing the love in Evie’s voice as he snuggled against her was all he needed to feel better.