Willow The pack leader!
Meet the
Sorrel The wise old dog.
Pepper The cheeky pup!
Clover
Shy and sweet.
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First published 2024 001
Text and illustrations © Rose Lihou, 2024
The moral right of the author and illustrator has been asserted
Text design by Jenny Stephenson
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ISBN: 978–0–241–63117–1
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For Lily and Bea
Say hello to Beatrix Bloom.
For seven years, Bea had lived with her mum in a very small house in a very big town. But today, they were going to drive for hours towards a very big house in a very small town. They were moving in with Grandma and Grandpa!
As life got busier for her mum and travelling got harder for her grandparents, they found new ways to be together.
But Bea couldn’t wait to see them in person.
Will they even recognize me in real life? she thought.
Mum said it was time for a new challenge, and that Grandma and Grandpa could do with some helping hands. Luckily, Bea had very helpful hands – she was her mum’s chief assistant dog-groomer. Together, they drove around in their doggrooming van, transforming scruffy pets.
Bea cared deeply about all animals, but especially about dogs. She loved their warm paws and shiny eyes, but most of all she loved how they said so much without words. Sometimes, Bea wished that people could have conversations without words too.
Some people find it easy to speak up. To say what’s on their mind and explain how they feel. To ask others about their day and describe their dreams at night.
Bea was not one of these people. She had plenty of thoughts, just like you and me, but by the time the thoughts reached her mouth they became . . . quiet. And Bea left them there. She didn’t try to make them louder. She was shy.
Every Parents’ Evening, her teachers would tell Mum she was a quiet and easygoing girl who never made a fuss. In fact, Bea was so quiet and so easy-going that she once went missing from class and no one noticed! For twenty minutes!
They found her in the playground, busy piling up leaves for the hedgehogs.
Bea wondered what her old classmates were doing now.
Outside, the miles of green fields turned into pretty streets and the air smelled like smoky fireplaces.
‘Ooh, that could be a new customer, Bea!’ said her mum, pointing out a glossy mass of caramel curls bobbing along the pavement. It was a cockapoo walking with its owner.
‘Maybe in our new house we’ll be able to get a dog of our own?’ asked Bea hopefully.
‘It’s on my to-do list!’ said her mum. ‘One day it will get to the top!’ Bea knew it would be a long wait. There were a lot of lists.
The van turned into a driveway and, peeking out of overgrown bushes, Bea could see a house gleaming in the sunset. A blackbird sat on a sign that read BLOOM COTTAGE, watching the new visitors arrive.
‘This is it! Our new home! Do you remember this place?’ Mum asked as she heaved a suitcase out of the van.
‘You were only this big the last time we were here.’ She held her hand level with her knee.
As she looked around, Bea could feel old memories flowing back to her. These are the things she pictured in her mind:
The smell of tomato plants in the greenhouse
moss on Falling spongy down
Dipping her dummy in a pond
Grandpa’s garden was beautiful! She remembered it now. Bea stepped out on to gravel and straggly clumps of weeds. It was
not as . . . beautiful as it used to be. The blackbird soared over her head, ruffling her hair as he flew past.
‘I think that means hello,’ Mum said, laughing.
Through the front door came Grandma and Grandpa, open-armed and overjoyed.
‘Oh, look how lovely you are, my little pen-pal!’ Grandma said, shaking her head in happy disbelief. She had brilliant white hair and dark eyes that sparkled.
She held out a biscuit jar, removed the cork lid with a POP ! and said ‘Here!’ Bea grabbed a jammy one.
‘And one for later,’ said Grandpa with a wink, as he stuffed an extra one into her pocket. He was shorter than Mum, but with the same wide smile. His grey hair sat all fluffy above his ears and his blue shirt had orange pockets stitched on to it. Bea instantly remembered how much she loved them both.
‘Thank you,’ said Bea very gently.
‘She has a quiet little voice,’ explained her mum. ‘It’s just her way.’
‘You can be as quiet as a fieldmouse if you like – I’ll just turn up my hearing aid!’ Grandpa said, hooting with laughter.
