The Fox of Richmond Park Read online

  ‘It’s Kara.’

  Why would she come looking for Vince? She doesn’t care about him… But she obviously didn’t want Socks to know… Unless someone else sent her? Sophie? She wouldn’t trust Kara, surely? Maybe Edward? But why? And why so secretive?

  Rita hopped frantically. ‘Something’s not right. I don’t know what, but if it involves Kara then it can’t be good. We have to find Vince.’

  ‘Right, I’ll—’ Socks was cut off by footsteps above them. ‘He’s awake.’

  ‘Can you get me out of here?’

  ‘Shouldn’t you rest? You looked pretty banged-up…’

  The footsteps grew louder.

  ‘I can walk. I’ll be fine. Or you can carry me. I need to see Vince.’

  ‘Alright, if—’

  ‘Socks! Stop winding up the bird! If you can’t be quiet then you’re going outside,’ the human said from the other side of the door.

  Rita heard the scraping of Socks’s claws on the wood, then a pitiful mew. The man’s voice was stern. ‘No! Birds are not for playing with! You’re scaring the poor little fella.’

  Fella? Hmph.

  The door opened and, with a click, pinpricks of light appeared all around her from tiny holes pierced in the cardboard. Through them she saw the outline of the man moving across the room, a large, black cat in his arms.

  ‘Scraaaaaack! No!’ She knew screaming wouldn’t help, but she couldn’t do nothing.

  The man moved his face close to the box. ‘Shhhh… It’s okay, little bird, the scary cat is going away now…’

  ‘Put me down, stupid human! I don’t want to hurt her!’ Socks must have lashed out and wriggled from his grip, because the man screamed and sucked air through his teeth.

  ‘Ow! Get back here you little—’

  Socks leapt from the floor, his paws landing softly next to Rita’s box. His silhouette moved across the pinholes until he was behind her. ‘There’s something on the top holding it shut. Get ready!’ said Socks. He pushed and the box slid across the counter.

  Rita wobbled and water spilled from the dish, soaking into the bedding. ‘It’s moving! Keep going!’ she called.

  ‘No you don’t!’ The man leaned over the box, briefly blocking out what little light could make it through, and suddenly it ceased to move. Socks’s shadow was gone.

  ‘It’s nearly there. Push, Rita!’ Socks wailed from the man’s arms.

  Rita used all the strength in her legs to propel herself into the side of the box. Her head made contact with the cardboard and she fell backwards, dazed from the impact.

  ‘That’s it! Once more!’ Socks yelled, further away now.

  ‘Shush, Socks! You’re scaring the poor thing. Out you go.’

  A door opened and thin blasts of cold air rushed through the holes, ruffling Rita’s feathers.

  She threw herself against the box once more. It fell. The bottom became the wall as it revolved in the air. The water dish and now-sodden blanket tumbled around her, coming to an abrupt stop as the whole thing hit the smooth, hard floor. Whatever was on top of the box smashed and the folded flaps that formed the roof loosened, a sliver of light beaming through the corner as they parted.

  ‘Shit!’ The man rushed over. The air was still cold, which meant the door was still open. Rita thrust her beak into the opening and pushed. Her head emerged and she scrabbled at the cardboard with her needle-like claws. Too smooth – she couldn’t get enough purchase. Socks was keeping the door open, half in, half out, watching helplessly.

  Kneeling, the man covered Rita’s head with his smooth, pink hand and tried to push her back inside. She jabbed with her beak and a berry of blood erupted from his palm. He recoiled and fell sideways, steadying himself with his other hand.

  Rita pushed and scraped again. One toe punctured the cardboard. It was enough. Shoulders, chest, wings… She screamed as she dragged her injured wing through the narrow gap, then tumbled onto the floor. The man made for the door, but on his knees he was slow and awkward. Rita found her feet and hopped across the tiles, ducking underneath Socks’s chest before collapsing onto the concrete path. Socks turned and grabbed her gently in his mouth, the door clicking shut behind them.

  *

  The path hugged the entire length of the lake, then curved around the end to follow it back in the opposite direction. Vince carried on straight. The foxes were no longer in earshot, but whether they’d given up or not he wasn’t about to assume.

  They’d let one of their secrets slip back on the bridge, though. They’d been promised a home in Richmond Park. And the only animal who could do that was Edward. He must have sent someone to follow him. Vince hadn’t noticed anyone, but a bird would have been near impossible to spot, if it was sneaky enough.

  But why would Edward want me dead?

  Whatever the reason, he could dwell on it later. His fur was still damp and the pain had crept back into his leg, forcing him to slow down as he crossed the grass, but the edge of the park was in sight. Beyond the boundary, the maze of roads and densely packed buildings was just as unfamiliar to him, but they promised hiding places in abundance.

  He looked over his shoulder. No sign of the foxes. They could be near, though. Still chasing, drawing closer every second as his pain and exhaustion threatened to overwhelm him. But he couldn’t run anymore. He needed somewhere to hide. Preferably somewhere that didn’t involve getting wet.

  He jogged onwards, gritting his teeth as the searing ache spread to the rest of his limbs, and was soon greeted by two tall, silver gates. The bars were twisted into ornate shapes and looming between them, fashioned from the gleaming metal, were two animals he didn’t quite recognise; a white horse with a long, golden pointed horn, and an oversized cat with a halo of fur. He passed through the gate, careful not to snag his tail on the thin coils of metal and wondered whether the creatures actually existed. He knew so little about the city; the thought that animals he’d never seen, or even heard of, could actually be real terrified him.

  The roads were all but empty now, but there were so many and they intersected so haphazardly that Vince had no idea where to begin. Instead, he decided to trust his instincts and limped straight across towards the towering buildings, trying not to think about a huge horned mare appearing over the top and impaling him on its spike.

  That would be just my luck.

  Passing a multitude of multicoloured signs adorned with all manner of lines and markings, he reached the closest building and followed the path round to the back, into the grey labyrinth of the city. He turned left down a narrow street, then right onto another. Every few paces, streets branched off like twigs on a tree. All was quiet. There were few bins for rats to forage in and no trees for birds to nest in, which was fine by him. He retraced his footsteps a couple of times so his scent would take any pursuer in circles. If the foxes were following him, there was no way they’d find him now.

  *

  High above the street where Vince walked, Kara settled on a black metal rail in front of a window and cursed under her breath. First the geese, then the foxes. Useless.

  Blake had eventually climbed out of the lake, shivering and whimpering, but the shock of the fall combined with his exhaustion meant he barely reached a jog before he collapsed in a soggy heap. His sisters were more determined but their detour back around to join the path drained what was left of their energy. They slowed to a walk, barked one last futile warning at Vince, then gave up.

  They’d come close, but Vince was more cunning than Kara had realised. If she could have taken Vince down herself, she would have. Her speed and hunting instinct were second to none, but it was her size that was the problem. As much as she hated to admit it, she needed help.

  Down below, Vince zig-zagged through the streets, sniffing at doors and pawing at piles of boxes. Hopefully he’d find somewhere to rest and stay put for a while. Enough time for her to find the foxes again.

  Kara flitted silently from railing to windowsill to lamp post, eyes nev
er leaving the wandering fox below. She yawned, wondering if she’d get back to Richmond Park before the next moon, when Vince finally finished his endless inspections and settled on a resting spot. Midway along a row of shops was a building-sized construction site, hidden from the pavement by tall wooden boards. Cut straight into the wood was the outline of a door, but a heavy chain and padlock kept it flush. Four large plastic bins sat in a row on the path in front. Vince jumped onto one and, from there, onto the edge of the narrow boards, then dropped onto a tall pile of rubble behind, then to the dirt floor below. He yelped as he landed, clearly in pain. After a few more sniffs and a quick lick of his wounded leg, he curled up against the neighbouring building wall behind a pile of wooden planks.

  Kara waited a few moments in case he changed his mind but he quickly fell asleep. Perfect. She was bored of chasing him and wanted this over and done with. She flapped away and headed back to Hyde Park where the foxes were waiting, gathering their strength.

  8

  Socks carried Rita to the high street, where they found Laurie about to duck behind a loose board into the empty shop she sometimes called home. The vixen listened as Rita explained her suspicions about Kara.

  ‘What can an owl do on her own, though?’ Laurie said. ‘She could just be keeping an eye on him.’

  ‘Maybe, but Rita’s worried, and I feel terrible… I’m supposed to be vigilant about suspicious goings-on around here. I can’t believe I trusted her,’ Socks said. ‘We should check on him, just to be sure.’

  ‘We both did. We weren’t to know,’ Laurie said. ‘And it’s your job to help strangers.’

  ‘I know, but if anything happens to Vince now, I’ll never forgive myself,’ Socks said. ‘You’ll have to run on ahead, Laurie. Rita can’t fly yet and I’ll just slow you down. You can track him better anyway. We’ll catch up with you.’

  ‘Me? Oh, yeah, of course.’ Laurie tried to settle her scattered thoughts. She’d assumed reuniting Rita and Vince would be simple. It hadn’t occurred to her that she might have to help Vince out of trouble again. But Socks felt responsible, and she had to do whatever she could to ease his guilt. ‘How will you find me?’

  ‘Leave a trail in the grass. Scratch some marks?’ Socks said. ‘The human ones, you know, on the signs? The ones that point the way.’

  ‘Yes, I think I know the ones. Okay, well, hopefully there’s nothing to worry about anyway,’ Laurie said.

  Socks couldn’t manage a smile. ‘Mmm, hopefully.’

  ‘Please find him, Laurie,’ Rita said.

  Laurie nodded, then turned away and began to run.

  ‘Good luck!’ Socks called after her. ‘We’ll be right behind you.’

  Laurie pointed her ears forward and tore along the high street towards the junction, before heading along the road she’d directed Vince down only hours ago. How had she become embroiled in this fox’s drama so quickly? A good deed here and there, sure, but this was above and beyond anything she’d helped Socks with before. Hopefully this was all just a misunderstanding and they could get back to normal as soon as possible.

  The rain had formed deep puddles in the pavements, soaking her paws as she galloped through them. The sunrise was only an hour away and cars were creeping back onto the roads. Tinny chirps from the keenest of the morning birds rang like alarms from the trees and bushes. Laurie ignored all of it. She ran as fast as she could, eager to put Socks’s and Rita’s minds at rest, until she reached the outer fence of Hyde Park.

  She slipped through the railings and crept along the path, ears twitching at each leaf-rustle and twig-snap. Every few paces she stopped to scrape the human sign into the dirt, hoping Socks would remember what the angular lines meant. She cocked her head as she finished one of them. It made sense, sort of. Not like the long strings of symbols they used, which were incomprehensible.

  She wanted to shout for Vince, but stopped herself. The owl was obviously a good deal smarter than the geese, so if she was spotted, talking her way out of it might not be an option this time. Padding through the park, she did her best to look inconspicuous. Then something caught her nose. Blood. She lowered her snout to the ground and sniffed at a dark wet patch of it, scouring the path for a trail. The scent was muddled.

  Foxes.

  A couple more blood droplets led her further, but seemed to stop.

  That’s good…

  … isn’t it?

  She followed the smell past a statue and then north, towards the bridge over the Serpentine. He’d come this way, she was sure of it, but so had these other foxes. Were they working for the owl, or just looking for a fight?

  Eventually, she reached the bridge, where, halfway across, the scents disappeared. She slowly turned, sniffed the handrails on either side, then peered over the edge into the water. She didn’t know what she expected to see – Vince’s bloated corpse, perhaps – but breathed a sigh of relief when only her distant, shimmering reflection stared back at her from between the clumps of algae.

  She walked back the way she’d come, ears and nose primed for the next clue, when a distant murmur echoed across the expanse of grass to her left. She stopped dead and turned her ears towards the noise. The muttering continued, then a sharp laugh burst through the still air, making her jump.

  Foxes.

  A path snaked its way across to the voices, but enough trees lined it so that she could sneak up undetected. Animals could come and go as they pleased here, so her scent wouldn’t be suspicious if she kept hidden. She scratched another pointed arrow-mark into the dirt and skulked through the shadows, the laughter growing louder.

  ‘… And your face when you were trying to swim… So ridiculous!’ a vixen said.

  ‘Terrified!’ another female chuckled. ‘Like one of those little Chihuahuas!’

  ‘Shut up, both of you!’ a male fox whined. ‘And if you push me in again, I’ll tear both your tails off.’

  ‘Ha, sure you will,’ the first female said.

  Laurie stopped and lowered her belly to the ground, keeping her breathing light, just in case.

  ‘Anyway, thanks to you we won’t get our fancy den in Richmond Park,’ the female continued.

  ‘You heard the owl. She’s going to find Vince and come back,’ the male said.

  ‘Yeah, she says that, but I bet she’s gone and found someone else to do the job. Someone who isn’t a bug-eyed human-dog.’

  Richmond Park… The owl… The job… Bingo! And Vince is okay. Or not dead, at least.

  The feeling of relief surprised her but she pushed it to the back of her mind. Now, she just had to wait for Kara to get back, find out where Vince was, then beat the foxes to him. As long as Kara did come back. If she didn’t, then Laurie might have to employ some more of her conversational skills on the foxes.

  Closer now, she could just about see them lounging on the edge of the human-built circular river. They lapped lazily at the bubbling water as it flowed around the loop. The triplets. She’d seen them hanging around once or twice before on previous visits but had never spoken to them. They were scrawny and immature, more concerned about tussling with one another and being noisy than anything else, but the owl’s offer was obviously too good to resist.

  Laurie settled down under the nearest bushes and watched them for a few moments, then, like a ghoulish apparition, the owl appeared in the distance. She swooped down to a spindly sapling nearby and called to the foxes. They ran over, whispering excitedly to each other.

  ‘I’ve found him. I’ll take you there now and we can have this done before sunrise,’ Kara said.

  ‘Can’t we wait until tomorrow? I’m beyond tired,’ Blake said through a yawn.

  ‘Do it now or the deal’s off,’ Kara snapped.

  ‘Don’t listen to him. We’ll do it,’ Bonnie said, shooting her brother a stern look.

  ‘Right, follow me then.’ Kara flapped away without another word.

  Damn.

  The owl had given no clue to Vince’s whereabouts. She woul
dn’t be able to beat them there.

  Laurie waited until they were suitably far away before sneaking after them, darting from tree to tree to stay as concealed as possible, leaving hastily scraped markings in the grass as she went. The owl led them all the way out of the park, through the tall silver gate and across the wide road. Laurie hung back as they crossed, then dashed to a patch of grass that separated the two directions of traffic as they disappeared behind the buildings on the other side. She marked another arrow, then looked back at the gates. Would Socks know to cross? She couldn’t worry about that, though. She had to get to Vince.

  She checked for cars, then negotiated the rest of the road before following the foxes’ route into the backstreets. They were already out of sight, hidden among the multitude of crisscrossing thoroughfares, but she dropped her snout to the ground and quickly found their scent trail. The three of them together would be more than enough for Socks to sniff out too, if her directions were good enough to get him there.

  Laurie scurried through the narrow roads, ducking behind bins and buildings when she got too close for comfort. Eventually Kara settled on the edge of a tall wooden board that concealed what Laurie assumed to be a building site. Laurie remained at the end of the street, peering around the corner.

  ‘He’s in there, sleeping behind the pile of wood,’ Kara said, her voice low.

  ‘Right, that means be quiet.’ Bailey prodded Blake with a paw.

  ‘Get on with it. The sun’s nearly up, I want to get back to my roost,’ Kara whispered sharply.

  Laurie pictured Vince curled up inside, worn out from the previous ambush, the three foxes attacking him unawares. He had no chance this time.

  The foxes jumped onto the bins and then, one by one, onto the edge of the board, before disappearing behind it. Kara rotated her head halfway to watch them below.

  Laurie bolted from her position and tore down the street. ‘VINCE!’ She bounded onto the bins and straight over the hoarding. She landed hard and skidded across the sandy dirt. ‘VINCE!’