The Last Family in England Read online

  powder

  Hal was pouring his white powder into a glass and filling it with water. He was in his pyjamas, as he had been for the past few days.

  ‘Mum’s still at the hospital,’ he told Adam, without being asked.

  ‘Oh,’ said Adam. ‘And Lottie?’

  ‘Yeah, she’s back. Sarah’s mum dropped her off. She’s upstairs.’

  Adam started to tell Hal about the smashed bottle, but before he had time to complete the story, Hal leant forward clutching his stomach. He then turned, and moved quickly towards the downstairs bathroom. Ill-smells lingered.

  Adam went to watch TV.

  I followed him and, as Kate still wasn’t back, curled up by his side on the settee.

  He stroked my head as he flicked through the channels, past dogs playing the piano and cats dancing.

  Hal returned from the toilet, still clutching his stomach.

  ‘How was it?’ Adam asked him.

  ‘Still the same.’

  ‘Oh dear.’

  Charlotte was coming down the stairs. She had left her bedroom door open, to let her music filter through. Adam and Hal didn’t say anything as she entered. Charlotte seemed to have a new look.

  ‘All right, shitpants?’ she said to her brother.

  ‘Don’t talk like that,’ said Adam.

  ‘Why? That’s what he is, isn’t it?’

  ‘He’s got diarrhoea. He feels very poorly. And what has happened to your face? You look like Death.’

  ‘It’s make-up.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Dad,’ Hal said with mock-reassurance one hand still on his stomach. ‘She’s thirteen. She’s lost and confused. She needs to experiment with different identities. Last week Britney, this week Marilyn Manson. We should try and be there for –’ He clutched his stomach and made a sound to indicate he was in pain.

  ‘Piss off, shitpants.’ And before Adam had time to reprimand her she was already making her way back upstairs.

  mess

  When Kate came home Adam asked her how her father was. She didn’t answer him, at least not directly.

  ‘Who’s left that there?’ she said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘The dog’s lead. Why hasn’t it been put away?’

  ‘I was going to. I got hurled abuse by some kids in the park. I used to teach them –’

  Kate moved forward, into the kitchen. ‘Oh, Adam, look at all this mess.’

  ‘Love, I’m sorry. Come on, sit down. You look exhausted.’

  I went over to smell her, and it was the same as it was most nights. Hospital smells. Grandpa Bill. She must have been holding his hand, I noted, as I sniffed her own. And she must have been holding it for a long time because it was stronger than the night before, when they had all gone to visit him together.

  Kate looked down as I sniffed and she smiled her soft smile. The smile she saved for me. ‘Hello, Prince.’

  everywhere

  Later, when I was shut away, Lapsang arrived back. She had been gone for two days, and I was just starting to feel her absence. Of course, she had been away before, many times, in fact she was away more than she was in the house. But still, after a shaky start our relationship had blossomed of late, and when she was not there, at night, I missed having someone to talk with.

  So when she luxuriously slid in through the cat-flap, my heart lifted.

  ‘Where have you been?’ I asked her. My tone was curious, not cross.

  ‘Everywhere,’ she purred. ‘Everywhere.’

  ‘I think the Family has missed you.’

  She looked at me with her heavy, sceptical eyes. ‘I think you will find that the Family hasn’t even noticed.’

  ‘Be assured: they missed you.’

  ‘Well, darling, they’re going to have to miss me some more because I’m not back for long.’

  ‘But –’

  ‘In fact I’m thinking of leaving for good.’

  ‘You don’t mean that.’

  ‘I’m afraid I do, sweetie.’ She licked her paw. ‘Don’t you ever just want to get away?’ she asked as she stretched out in her basket.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Don’t you sometimes feel the urge to just take off, to run away, to start afresh?’

  ‘No. I have to say I don’t.’

  ‘Oh, I do. Imagine how liberating it would be. Imagine, darling. To go from house to house, collecting new identities, new names, and an endless supply of milk.’

  ‘But you couldn’t, could you, really? You couldn’t leave the Family for ever?’

  ‘And may I ask why not?’

  ‘You’d miss everyone.’

  ‘Oh no. You see, that’s where you are mistaken. I wouldn’t miss them at all. Not one bit. I would just be thinking of all those new laps I could lie on.’

  I sighed. ‘I think you are in denial.’

  ‘Denial?’ she miaowed in disbelief.

  ‘Uh-huh. I’ve seen you. I’ve seen the way you are around Charlotte. You’re very fond of her.’

  Her head sank back into her neck. ‘She has the warmest lap in the house.’

  ‘Is that all she is to you? A warm lap?’

  ‘Yes, Prince. I’m afraid so. That’s all she is to me.’

  ‘I don’t believe it.’

  Her voice switched. ‘Well, believe this. If you get too close to humans you will only end up hurt.’ Although she had a tendency to melodrama, I could not deny the conviction in her eyes.

  ‘How come?’

  ‘Darling, listen. I go around this town every day and every night. I am not like you. I am mobile. I can go where I want. I look through windows and I see what is happening. I cross their gardens and sometimes, when I know it is safe, I walk through their doors. I hear the stories other cats have to tell. The humans are in crisis. They pretend to everybody that they are all still as happy as they ever were, but behind the closed doors it is a different story. They are out of control. Parents and children are at war – with each other, and with themselves.’

  ‘So, what are you saying?’

  ‘I’m saying that if you get too close to the Family, you will end up going down with them.’

  ‘There are things, Lapsang, that even you don’t understand.’

  Lapsang looked at me, doubtfully. ‘What don’t I understand?’

  ‘That the Family will be safe.’

  ‘How can you be sure when it is already happening? When the signs of its own sorry but inevitable destruction are already there.’

  ‘The houses you visit, are they occupied by Labradors?’

  ‘I don’t know, I don’t think so. Most of them probably don’t have dogs at all.’

  I placed my head on my paws and closed my eyes. ‘As I thought.’

  ‘As you thought what?’

  ‘Nothing. All you need to know is that there is no need for you to worry. There really isn’t. I am a Labrador,’ I told her. ‘The Family will be safe.’

  There was a pause, and then she started to purr. ‘Oh darling, you are a silly little dog,’ she said. ‘I wasn’t worried.’

  * * *

  Of course, Lapsang didn’t know about the Pact. She didn’t know that we were the only dogs left who were willing to devote our lives to the protection of our masters. She didn’t realise that every other breed had given up on the cause. She didn’t even realise there had been a cause to begin with. She was a cat, after all.

  But as I reopened my eyes and stared at the four pairs of shoes, neatly arranged by Kate in front of the vegetable rack by the back door, I couldn’t prevent Lapsang’s words from echoing in my brain.

  . . . get too close to the Family, you will end up going down . . .

  The Labrador Pact: Prepare for changes in human behaviour

  Human life does not fit comfortably within a plan. Despite their best efforts, humans are continually jolted off course by the events around them. Even when the event has been anticipated, or experienced before, it can still have a profound effect on our masters’ be
haviour.

  It is our duty, as Labradors, to be prepared for change at any time. We must realise that it is our presence, and its suggestion that some things will always stay the same, which can help to return humans back to normality.

  Whatever changes occur, we must remain consistent to our goal. Ultimately, we should remember that the security of the human Family is not placed at risk from the alterations in behaviour, but from our under-prepared reactions to them.

  happy

  Adam unclipped the lead but kept his hand on my nose.

  ‘Stay.’

  This was always his favourite game.

  ‘Stay.’

  To keep me still for as long as possible.

  ‘Sta-ay.’

  Sitting on the grass in the park.

  ‘Good boy. Stay.’

  While he trod backwards.

  ‘Stay there. Stay.’

  To give him a head start.

  ‘Go on, boy! Come on!’

  I was off like a whippet. Mind you, I needed to be, seeing that Adam’s starting post and finishing line were only a dog’s length away from being the same thing. But I loved this. I loved making him happy. I loved watching him, the way he craned his head back as he pushed his way through the invisible tape.

  ‘It’s a draw,’ he panted, although I was sure he knew I had him by a nose.

  power

  If I am trying to remember when it all started, when I first began to question my power, it would be hard to isolate a specific moment. It certainly didn’t happen overnight. I never woke up in my basket to find the whole Family suddenly beyond my control as they sat down for breakfast.

  All I can say is that there was a time when everything seemed to be OK, when the Labrador Pact held all the answers and the Hunters appeared unthreatened by the world outside.

  It may have been an illusion. In fact, I know it was. But it was an illusion every member of the Family bought into. And although I can’t remember when I started to doubt the Pact, I can remember when this illusion started to fade.

  It didn’t start with the broken bottle, not really. It happened the week after. The day Hal got better.

  mirror-girl

  I was worried about Hal, but this was not a new thing. I had been worried for quite some time.

  About the way he never seemed to be himself, in front of anyone. About the way he was loud and confident within the Family, but remained petrified of the world outside. About the way he would talk to the mirror as if it was the girl of his dreams, Laura Shepherd. That evening I just lay there, on his bedroom floor, watching intently.

  ‘Hi, Laura,’ he said. And then he tried it in a different tone. ‘Hi, Laura.’

  He asked her out on a fictional date. ‘What are you doing on Friday night?’ he said, raising an expectant eyebrow.

  Of course, the mirror-girl did not reply, and he did not press her. Instead, he waited for her to turn away, or disappear entirely, so that he could squeeze his blackheads.

  voice

  A voice, from downstairs. His mother’s: ‘Your meal’s ready.’

  meal

  I went back downstairs and sat in my basket to observe everything, as I always did. Halfway through, Charlotte put her knife and fork down. Kate noticed she had left her fish. ‘You’ve left your fish,’ Kate said.

  Charlotte took a deep breath, and announced: ‘I’ve decided to become a vegetarian.’

  ‘But, Charlotte,’ protested her mother, ‘you don’t like vegetables.’

  ‘I don’t like eating dead animals either.’

  ‘One in ten people in Britain are vegetarian,’ said Hal, as he swallowed a mouthful of fish.

  Adam placed a hand on Kate’s arm. ‘If Charlotte doesn’t want to eat meat, that has to be her own decision.’

  ‘Adam, she’s thirteen.’

  ‘And out of all population segments, teenage girls are most likely to be vegetarian,’ continued Hal. ‘I think it’s because they like to take control over their own diet. It’s a power issue, basically.’

  Charlotte tutted at her brother in disdain. ‘In a hundred years’ time everyone will be vegetarian because everyone will realise how disgusting and primitive and barbaric it is to eat other animals. We should all be equal.’

  ‘But Charlotte, you need to eat fish and meat to get all your vitamins and protein,’ said Kate.

  Charlotte looked at me. ‘Well, Prince has got a lot of vitamins and protein so why don’t we eat him?’

  Hal snorted in amusement. ‘Because he wouldn’t fit in the oven.’

  ‘Charlotte, you’re being ridiculous,’ said Kate. ‘Dogs are different.’

  Adam sat forward in his chair. ‘But she does make an interesting point. I mean, we only find the idea of eating Prince more repulsive because we humanise dogs more than other animals.’

  Kate stared at the ceiling, while Adam carried on. ‘I mean, dogs have their own therapists now, don’t they? And their own perfume ranges. I read in the paper that in London there’s even a restaurant for dogs. It probably won’t be too long before they even have their own vegetarian restaurants. Imagine that.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Kate, disappointed but unsurprised by her husband’s lack of support on this issue. ‘Imagine.’

  phone

  And that was it. Right there. The last time everything was normal.

  Because that was when the phone rang.

  gravity

  Adam went to get it, shutting the kitchen door behind him. His voice was muffled, but Kate could tell something was wrong. She opened the door as Adam put the phone down.

  ‘He’s –’

  She looked at him, desperately scanning his face for some sign that the news she had been dreading for weeks hadn’t finally arrived. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Your father. He’s –’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Kate, I’m sorry.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘It was the nurse, from the High Dependency Unit. She said she didn’t have time to phone, you know, before –’

  ‘No.’

  ‘It happened quickly, she said. Painless.’

  ‘No, it can’t –’

  ‘Darling, I’m so sorry.’ He stepped forward. ‘I’m so . . . sorry.’

  Her head fell onto his shoulder, her hands clutched his shirt. Charlotte was standing in the kitchen doorway. Then Hal, behind her.

  ‘What’s happened?’ they asked, together. Or maybe it was just Charlotte. I can’t remember.

  ‘It’s Grandpa,’ Adam explained. ‘He –’ The word which couldn’t be said filled the whole house and gave gravity extra force.

  Charlotte and Kate were both struggling to stay standing. Hal and Adam were both struggling to support them.

  I just stood there, beside the kitchen table, not knowing what to do. Not knowing what this all meant, for the Family.

  trouble

  It was only when Adam told Hal, later on, that Grandma Margaret was going to live with us, that its significance started to become clear.

  ‘Dad, you’re joking.’

  Adam sighed. ‘I’m afraid it looks like it’s the only option.’

  ‘But she’s still got the bungalow.’

  ‘It’s too expensive for her on her own. And anyway, your mum thinks she’d be better off here.’

  Hal placed his peanut butter and Marmite sandwich back down onto his plate and swallowed what remained in his mouth. ‘But it will be a total nightmare.’

  Adam went over to where I was standing, between the kitchen and the hallway, and tugged me forward, by the collar. He shut the door, to stop the words filtering upstairs. ‘Now, come on. Think about your mother. She wants her here.’

  ‘But I’ve got my A-levels. I’ve got to revise.’

  ‘Please, Hal. Don’t make this any more difficult than it already is.’ Adam was now staring out of the kitchen window, watching Lapsang as she sauntered the length of the fence’s top edge.

  ‘I don’t know why we’re all
meant to be so bothered anyway. Grandpa wasn’t able to speak for years, not properly. He just sat there, wheezing away in the corner.’

  ‘Hal, you don’t mean that.’

  ‘If that had been Prince, we’d have put him down.’ I looked up at the sound of my name, feigning stupidity.

  ‘Hal, come on. Think about your mum, think –’ Adam broke off, hearing the mumbled voices of Charlotte and Kate upstairs. He looked at me and said: ‘I suppose I should feed him.’

  ‘No, Dad. It’s all right. I’ll do it.’

  But I wasn’t hungry.

  I just stared at my bowlful of meat and biscuits, trying to work out how to act. Who needed my support most? Was it Kate and Charlotte, tormented by what had happened? Or was it Adam and Hal, tormented by what was about to?

  I had to be careful. It was a Sunday. Sundays were always danger-days, even at the best of times. The Family spent too long together, and spoke too much. But this Sunday was worse, the atmosphere heavier.

  Tomorrow would be OK. I would be able to speak to Henry, my mentor and fellow Labrador. He would tell me what to do, he always had, ever since I had arrived at the Hunter household. Ever since I had been saved.

  But right then I couldn’t focus. I sensed something was wrong but couldn’t quite put my paw on it. Grandma Margaret was coming to stay. That was bad, yes. Granted. But dangerous? Surely not. And yet there was definitely something amid the sad-smells, thickening the air.

  The room around me was charged with a negative energy. The washing machine, the freezer, the vegetable rack, even my basket – each seemed like secret weapons in some invisible war. And that was when it became clear for the first time. Trouble was coming, and I was the only one who could stop it.

  dream

  That night they forgot to shut me away so I was asleep on the landing, lost in a violent wolf-dream. I ran wild. Fast through trees, together with the pack, the sun struggling its way above the horizon. I heard a distant howl. There was the smell of blood: we were getting closer, moving towards our morning kill, heart and legs in equal gallop. More smells. Pine, bark, earth, sweat, bone, wolf, sunshine. And faster, downhill, zigzagging timber, then falling out into the open, one last turn, moving as one. Wolves together, back on the flat, kicking up dirt. The promise of blood was everything, overpowering all else. In seconds we would have it, our prey, from every angle. We lowered our heads, and moved in. That was it. There was no escape. We tore and ripped the flesh apart, blood spraying our faces. But before I had time to taste it, I woke.