Labradoodle on the Loose (7 page)

‘Shall we call her?' said Jonno.
Good idea
. He got his phone out. Held it to his ear for a while.

‘Hello,' said Jonno. ‘Bee?'

The person at the other end must have spoken.

‘We're outside.'

The person at the other end must have spoken again.

‘OK,' said Jonno, and ended the call. ‘She's coming to let us in,' he said. ‘She was asleep.'

Bee came to the back door wrapped in a brown, fluffy dressing gown that went all the way to her feet. She looked like a brown bear.

‘Sorry,' she said, rubbing her eyes. ‘We stayed up really late. We were looking for Doodle everywhere. It was after midnight when we got back.'

Bee's mum appeared. She looked like a bear too, a bigger black one, but with red eyes.

‘Oh, the Tribers.' She put her hand on Bee's shoulder. ‘Your lovely friends. Thank you. Thank you.' She looked like she was going to cry. ‘We've overslept.'

It was a bit awkward standing outside the door with Bee and her mum talking to us in their dressing gowns, all upset and teary-looking.

‘Shall we come back later?' said Jonno. ‘We'll look for Doodle on our own . . . and come back later.'
Well done. Jonno
.

Bee looked at her mum. ‘OK, thanks.' She shut the door. We walked back round to the front and told Mum.

‘I expect they're exhausted,' she said. ‘Never mind. We can search without them – go to the park and a few other
places. You never know.' Mum used a cheery voice but I didn't feel very cheery. Bee's family had looked all last night. We'd looked all day. The chances of finding Doodle were zero.

‘OK,' said Jonno.

‘Same,' said Fifty.

‘Why do you always say “same”?' asked Flo, through the loudspeaker. She didn't care that it didn't work.

‘Because I always agree with the other Tribers.' Fifty smiled and put out his fist. Copper Pie, Jonno and I made fists too and we all banged knuckles in the Tribe fist of friendship, but didn't feel as good as normal.

Mum and Amy and Flo and Fifty headed off. I dawdled behind with Jonno and Copper Pie in silence. I heard a car coming. We were about to cross over the road, so I checked behind and saw it was a police car. Mum always says if you see a police car you should step right over to the far side of the pavement or onto the grass if there is any. She says policemen race around and kill more pedestrians than they save. (That probably isn't true.) She also says you should never stand on the hard shoulder of the motorway – you should climb up the bank, or whatever's there, or a lorry will mow you down. (I'm not sure how useful that information is to an eleven-year-old who can't drive for another six years.)

‘Police car,' I shouted, to warn the others. Everyone stopped. Mum took her own advice and pressed her back against a garden wall, leaving her two daughters to be
flattened (only joking). We all watched the car drive, incredibly slowly, towards us.

‘Must be a learner,' said Copper Pie.

I would have laughed but I was too busy staring at the driver, and the passenger, and what looked like a third head between the two people in the front seat. The sun was in my eyes making it difficult to work out what was face and what was shadow. I squinted to see if that helped. It did. The police car drew up by my side. I didn't wait for the police to get out. I grabbed the handle and flung open the back door.

Doodle leapt out of the car. He bypassed me even though I was the closest, and jumped all over Jonno (his best friend after Bee). Jonno pretty much jumped all over Doodle too.

The passenger door opened and out stepped our favourite policeman ever, the nice one from the day before, the one and only Sergeant Farrow.

‘Hello again,' he said.

‘Hello,' I said. ‘You've got Bee's dog.'

‘Bright boy,' he said. ‘Nearly as bright as your kidnapper friend over there.' He nodded at Fifty. Fifty waved back. (There was something about Sergeant Farrow that reminded me of Copper Pie's neighbour, Big Jim. He jokes about things, rather than being serious like most adults.)

Mum came over. ‘Hello, I understand you've met my son and his friends.'

‘Yes,' he said. ‘I was lucky enough to run into them yesterday. A small matter of a missing person.' He raised his eyebrows. Good job I'd told Mum.

‘I heard,' she said. ‘I hope it didn't cause too much trouble.'

‘Actually, the boys gave me a cake so I decided to let them off.' He winked at me. Mum talked to him for a few minutes. Gradually everyone gathered round, waiting for her to ask the question that we all wanted the answer to. (Doodle stayed right by Jonno's side, as though he didn't want to get lost again.) In the end, it was Flo who butted in. Typical.

‘Where did you find Doodle, please?' she said, through the loudspeaker of course.

‘He came with our breakfast,' said Sergeant Farrow, grinning. ‘Not long after we saw you, in fact.'

‘Really?' said Flo, eyes popping out of her head. I think she thought Doodle had served the policeman a full English wearing an apron.

‘Sort of,' he said.

‘Please tell us,' said Jonno.

Sergeant Farrow could see we were all desperate to hear the full story. ‘You know the café with the tattoo parlour at the back?'

We all nodded. There aren't many cafés where you can get a cappuccino and a scorpion down your neck at the same time.

‘Well, we go there for our bacon butties. But this morning, Toni, the owner, had a surprise for us. Doodle turned up last night as he was closing. There was no tag on him, but Toni recognised him, said he belonged to a girl with a long, black fringe and a boy with frizzy hair and glasses. So he locked him up in the back with a tasty meal and a bowl of water.'

‘Like a sleepover,' said Flo.

‘Exactly like a sleepover.' He really was a nice policeman.

‘When we turned up this morning Toni handed him over. And of course we knew
exactly
who he was talking about.'

It was time to tell Bee. Time to tell Bee the fantastic news.

We shouted ‘thank you' a hundred times and ran back to Bee's. Jonno held Doodle's tag-less collar which made him lopsided so he got a bit left behind. Copper Pie hammered on Bee's front door. I rang the bell, even though it doesn't work. Fifty yelled through the letterbox.

Bee's mum shouted, ‘I'm coming,' a bit crossly, and opened the door just as Jonno caught up with us. He let go of the collar and Doodle flew through the door. I can't properly describe what happened next. Bee came charging down the stairs and threw her arms round Doodle and there were tears all down her face and all down her mum's. Jonno pressed his face into Doodle's fur. The relief was amazing. My face started to ache because of the non-stop smiling. I wasn't a dog-murderer. I was just Keener again.

Bee's mum is a wicked cook and she loves feeding people, so she started frying things and we had a Tribe breakfast of some kind of omelette followed by hot chocolate with whipped cream and almond biscuits. Doodle had treats too, dog biscuits in gravy.

I couldn't believe that I was having biscuits for breakfast for the second day running, and that so much had happened in between. But that's Tribe for you. I don't know why, but ever since we've been Tribers, life's got livelier.

It was Wednesday six p.m. and that meant it was the weekly Tribe meeting in the Tribehouse. Fifty was sitting on the safe, and we were all on the bench except Bee who was lecturing us about something. I wasn't listening. I was working out how I could afford to buy a mountainboard without waiting until my birthday. I wished I had a June birthday like Bee's.

I was about to ask Bee exactly when her birthday was when . . .

‘Let's have a sponsored silence as well,' she said.

I had no idea what she was talking about. ‘What for?' I said.

‘For the charity day on Friday.' We have one every term. It's always the same.

‘But we wear home clothes and bring in a pound,' I said.

Bee gave me her special withering look. ‘Who says we can't do something else?' I don't disagree with Bee unless I absolutely have to, so I shut up.

‘Not speak all day?' said Fifty.

‘Only while we we're at school,' she said. ‘It'll be fun.'

‘It won't,' said Fifty. ‘I can't be quiet
all
day.' He was probably right.

‘OK. You can talk, but we'll be silent. You can be our . . . translator.'

‘Translating what?' said Fifty.

‘Sign language and . . . whatever.' Bee made a stop-fussing face.

‘OK,' said Fifty.

That's often how things get decided. Bee suggests them, Bee persuades us, we agree. (Or we say nothing and she assumes we agree.)

‘Right. We need sponsor forms and sponsors,' said Bee. ‘Lots.'

‘My dad won't sponsor us. He hates sponsored anything. He says people should give money to charity because it's the right thing to do, not because someone jumps out of a plane,' said Jonno.

‘You'll join in though, won't you?' said Bee.

Jonno nodded. ‘I'll get Ravi to sponsor me.' (Ravi is Jonno's friend from where he used to live.)

‘Keener?'

‘I'll get Mum.' Bee waited. ‘And Dad . . . and Amy.'

That seemed to do the trick. Bee turned to Copper Pie. He was ready for her. ‘Big Jim next door, Mum, Dad.'

‘Fifty?'

‘Can I get sponsors for interpreting?'

She thought for a second, moved her fringe (which
is more like a black-out blind) off her face, and said, ‘Rewind. Let's just have one Tribe form. We'll each have it for a day and see how much we can get. Agreed?'

‘But there's only two days till Friday,' I pointed out. Being able to count can be an advantage.

Bee paused. I grinned. Getting one over on her is rare.

‘OK,' she said. ‘Text any sponsors you get to Keener. He can keep the sponsor form. And can you make it too, Keener?' She smiled her just-do-as-I-say smile. ‘Don't forget to include the name of the charity.'

‘What is the name of the charity?' I asked.

‘Twenty forty-one.' The way Bee said it made me think I should know what
twenty forty-one
was. ‘Didn't you listen to
anything
in assembly?' she said, rolling her eyes. Asking how to spell it didn't seem like a good move.

‘What sort of charity has a name that's all numbers?' asked Copper Pie.

‘A charity for sad people who like adding up,' said Fifty.

‘They're called mathematicians,' said Jonno.

‘Or Keeners,' said Fifty.
Thanks!

‘Listen,' said Bee. She sliced the air with a karate chop to shut us up.

‘2041 isn't the sort of thing we usually have,' said Fifty. ‘We usually have donkey sanctuaries.'

‘Who cares about donkeys?' said Copper Pie.

‘Someone on the school council cared or it wouldn't have been picked,' I said.

‘So who on the school council cares about 2041?' asked Jonno.

No idea
, I thought.

Bee looked round at us all, smirking as though she knew something we didn't.

‘It can't have been you,' said Jonno. ‘You're not on the council.'