Patrick didn’t know it, because no one had told him, but they’d phoned his dad at work. In fact, as it turned out, they’d called a whole lot of people. His dad and the police, the school nurse and a reporter from a local newspaper arrived all together. Everyone said how wonderful he’d been, which Patrick liked a lot, and everyone wanted to ask him questions, which he liked less. The policewoman was full of questions: about where exactly he’d jumped in, whether he’d seen the person who’d thrown the sack into the canal, or noticed anyone running away. The school nurse felt his head and took his pulse, and asked him whether he’d swallowed any canal water. She kept on asking him how he was feeling. Lots of them asked how he was feeling. So he told them. He said he felt fine, but that he wanted to keep Best Mate and take him home after school, that he knew he didn’t have room at home for all five. The others could go to the rescue centre, couldn’t they? He only wanted one, he was happy with one, just so long as it was Best Mate.

Then his mum came running in all of a fluster. They’d called her at work too. So by now there was quite a gathering in Mrs Brightwell’s office, and Bossy Boots was telling anyone who would listen about what had happened, about how lucky it was for Patrick that he’d been there to help him out of the canal. Patrick thought of telling everyone that actually he’d helped himself out of the canal, but he couldn’t be bothered – it just didn’t seem that important to him. All that really mattered now was taking Best Mate home with him and looking after him. His mum kept hugging and kissing him. Patrick wasn’t so keen on that, not with everyone else there. So in the end he turned and walked away. He was tired of all the talk, all the chatter going on around him. He wanted to be alone with Best Mate.

But they wouldn’t leave him alone. Within a couple of minutes he found there was someone else crouching down beside him. He had on a blue uniform and a peaked cap. He explained he was from the RSPCA. He spoke with a very soft understanding voice, the kind people use when they know you’re not going to like what they’re about to say – a bad news voice. He had come to take the puppies away, he told Patrick, and look after them for him. “We’ll find good homes for them all, Patrick. OK?” he said.

“I’ve got a good home,” Patrick replied. “So I can keep one of them, can’t I?” He looked up at his dad, “We can, can’t we, Dad?” But his dad wasn’t saying yes and he wasn’t saying no. He was looking down at the floor and saying nothing. His mum was biting her lip. She wouldn’t look at him either. That was the moment Patrick realised for the first time that they might not let him take Best Mate home with him.