floors.
I stepped forward ⦠there was a smashing sound in the undergrowth behind me, and something hit me squarely in the back and knocked me onto my face in the mud. Instinctively, I covered my head with my arms; I could hear a low, guttural growling, and feel hot breath on the back of my neck.
I was too scared to move; too scared to cry; too scared to do anything except lie with my face squished into the mud and wait for the dog to shred me to pieces.
His muzzle was nearer now; I could feel his cold nose sniffing, and his stiff whiskers tickling the back of my neck. I held my breath.
I felt a hot tongue lick my ear, and heard a worried, almost apologetic whimper. And then I did start to cry â great, hiccuping sobs that seemed to go on and on. I sat there and bawled like a baby, while the dog whined and licked my face and clambered all over my lap with his huge, muddy paws.
He was the size of a tank, black and fearsome, with a studded leather collar and teeth like a tiger. But his eyes were as soppy as a spanielâs, and his ferocious-looking face was creased with embarrassment and concern. When eventually I got up, he wagged his little stump of a tail and walked the rest of the way to the house pressed against me, glancing up into my face every few seconds. He was so big I could walk with my hand on his back, without even having to bend down.
We scrunched past the cars, and up to the huge, arched door. I took a deep breath. The dog watched me with his warm, brown eyes, tongue lolling, grinning encouragement.I lifted the heavy knocker, and let it fall once, twice, three times.
Then I put my hand on my new friendâs neck again, and waited.
An unexpected visitor
The door opened, and I blinked in the sudden spill of light. An enormous man was silhouetted against the brightness. I felt so dazzled that for a second I had the crazy impression he was a giant.
âWell, my giddy aunt,â goes the giant. âWhat âave we âere? Where in carnation âave you come from, young feller? But never mind that, come in outta the cold. And as fer you ââ he bent and scratched the dog behind one ear â âCall yerself a guard dog, yer old shandy-pants!â
A huge hand was on my back, gently propelling me into a flagged hallway the size of a soccer field. I shuffled in, digging in my sodden bag for my letter.
âPlease, sir,â I said, my voice sounding thin and quavery. âPlease, sir, Mr Quested, Iâm Adam Equinox, and ââ my fingers found the letter at last, and I held it towards him. It looked very damp and dog-eared â âand this is my letter.â
The huge man stared at me, making no attempt to takethe letter. He scratched his head.
âYouâre Adam, are yer?â he said at last. âThe wee boy with the chicken pox? And bless yer barnacles, sonny, Iâm not Q â Iâm Shaw.â
My head was spinning. What was Q? And why was the big man telling me that he was sure he wasnât it?
âYouâll not be wantinâ to go to the party in that state.â He opened one of the heavy wooden doors off the hallway, and ushered me through into a room I realised must be a library. It was lined with books, stretching from floor to ceiling. In one corner was a massive wooden desk with a computer. A fire was blazing in an enormous stone fireplace, with battered-looking leather armchairs on either side. On one of the chairs, a small cream-coloured cat was curled up asleep.
I took a couple of steps into the room, and gasped. Shuffling towards me through an ornate golden doorway opposite was a creature that could have come straight out of the fantasy world of Karazan. It looked half animal, half human. A bowed, shaggy head covered in matted hair, with spikes of straw sticking out at odd angles. A face so streaked and smeared with mud that it gave the impression of being some kind of weird war paint. Its clothes were a dirty
I stepped forward ⦠there was a smashing sound in the undergrowth behind me, and something hit me squarely in the back and knocked me onto my face in the mud. Instinctively, I covered my head with my arms; I could hear a low, guttural growling, and feel hot breath on the back of my neck.
I was too scared to move; too scared to cry; too scared to do anything except lie with my face squished into the mud and wait for the dog to shred me to pieces.
His muzzle was nearer now; I could feel his cold nose sniffing, and his stiff whiskers tickling the back of my neck. I held my breath.
I felt a hot tongue lick my ear, and heard a worried, almost apologetic whimper. And then I did start to cry â great, hiccuping sobs that seemed to go on and on. I sat there and bawled like a baby, while the dog whined and licked my face and clambered all over my lap with his huge, muddy paws.
He was the size of a tank, black and fearsome, with a studded leather collar and teeth like a tiger. But his eyes were as soppy as a spanielâs, and his ferocious-looking face was creased with embarrassment and concern. When eventually I got up, he wagged his little stump of a tail and walked the rest of the way to the house pressed against me, glancing up into my face every few seconds. He was so big I could walk with my hand on his back, without even having to bend down.
We scrunched past the cars, and up to the huge, arched door. I took a deep breath. The dog watched me with his warm, brown eyes, tongue lolling, grinning encouragement.I lifted the heavy knocker, and let it fall once, twice, three times.
Then I put my hand on my new friendâs neck again, and waited.
An unexpected visitor
The door opened, and I blinked in the sudden spill of light. An enormous man was silhouetted against the brightness. I felt so dazzled that for a second I had the crazy impression he was a giant.
âWell, my giddy aunt,â goes the giant. âWhat âave we âere? Where in carnation âave you come from, young feller? But never mind that, come in outta the cold. And as fer you ââ he bent and scratched the dog behind one ear â âCall yerself a guard dog, yer old shandy-pants!â
A huge hand was on my back, gently propelling me into a flagged hallway the size of a soccer field. I shuffled in, digging in my sodden bag for my letter.
âPlease, sir,â I said, my voice sounding thin and quavery. âPlease, sir, Mr Quested, Iâm Adam Equinox, and ââ my fingers found the letter at last, and I held it towards him. It looked very damp and dog-eared â âand this is my letter.â
The huge man stared at me, making no attempt to takethe letter. He scratched his head.
âYouâre Adam, are yer?â he said at last. âThe wee boy with the chicken pox? And bless yer barnacles, sonny, Iâm not Q â Iâm Shaw.â
My head was spinning. What was Q? And why was the big man telling me that he was sure he wasnât it?
âYouâll not be wantinâ to go to the party in that state.â He opened one of the heavy wooden doors off the hallway, and ushered me through into a room I realised must be a library. It was lined with books, stretching from floor to ceiling. In one corner was a massive wooden desk with a computer. A fire was blazing in an enormous stone fireplace, with battered-looking leather armchairs on either side. On one of the chairs, a small cream-coloured cat was curled up asleep.
I took a couple of steps into the room, and gasped. Shuffling towards me through an ornate golden doorway opposite was a creature that could have come straight out of the fantasy world of Karazan. It looked half animal, half human. A bowed, shaggy head covered in matted hair, with spikes of straw sticking out at odd angles. A face so streaked and smeared with mud that it gave the impression of being some kind of weird war paint. Its clothes were a dirty
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