The Fox of Richmond Park Page 4

  Vince was several trees away, rolling a small log with his snout. The pair watched from afar as he pawed at the newly revealed ground and then guzzled down a mouthful of what Rita presumed were insects. Vince coughed and bared his teeth in a grimace, then shook his ears. Rita couldn’t help but giggle.

  Sid shouted at Vince, ‘I was conserving those actually, but Sid supposes you may have a few.’

  ‘Oh, er, sorry,’ Vince replied, startled. ‘I didn’t realise they belonged to someone.’

  ‘No trouble, red-furred Vince.’ Sid plodded towards him, but Rita held back, worried Vince might still be angry with her. ‘My, my, you certainly appear as a park creature should to Sid’s eyes. Such a glossy coat!’

  ‘Um, thanks. I suppose you’ve met Rita, then?’

  ‘Oh no, the legend of your adventure has spread far-long among the creatures of this woodland!’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘No. Sid just met your pie-bird friend.’ Sid waved a paw towards Rita.

  ‘Oh. We’re not friends.’ Vince’s stomach growled and he looked at the ground. ‘Anyway, I should go. I need to find some food before I—’

  Now that her cover was blown, Rita seized her chance to make amends and hopped towards them. ‘I can take you to where there’s lots of frogs.’ If there’s one thing that would get him back on her side, it was the promise of an amphibian-based meal.

  ‘No thanks.’ Vince turned away and began to head off into the trees.

  ‘Wrong way!’ Rita called.

  ‘You don’t know where I’m going,’ Vince shouted back.

  ‘Hang on!’ Sid barked. ‘Sid thinks you should listen to the pie-bird.’

  Vince stopped and faced them both. ‘With all due respect, this is none of your business.’

  Sid ignored Vince and turned to Rita. ‘Grumpy fellow, your red-furred friend, isn’t he?’

  ‘He is indeed,’ Rita replied to Sid.

  ‘I can hear you,’ Vince said.

  ‘I know you’re going the wrong way,’ Rita said. ‘And I know you’d rather eat frogs than beetles.’ She flapped into the air and swooped in front of the fox, attempting to block his way.

  ‘Beetles, frogs, magpies. I’m not fussy.’ Vince weaved around her.

  Rita flew up to a branch ahead of him. ‘I know you’re angry with me. I’m sorry about the train tracks. I’m really sorry. But this was just a silly misunderstanding. You don’t need to punish yourself.’

  Vince ignored her and continued on through the undergrowth. Rita flapped behind, keeping close on his tail, then Sid started to follow them both with slow, laboured steps. Vince’s pace quickened, while Rita began to zig-zag through the mesh of branches above to keep up.

  Rita settled on a high bough. ‘Okay, fine. You don’t want me around. I get it. But you’re going back the way we came. You’ll reach the train tracks again if you keep going.’

  Vince stopped dead and blinked up at the bird. ‘Really?’

  ‘Really,’ Rita said.

  Sid bellowed from behind them, ‘Turn your ears to your pie-bird friend, you ungrateful mammal!’

  The long grass behind Vince parted and badger trudged through, the saggy fur under his chin wobbling.

  ‘Can you please mind your own business?’ Vince snapped.

  ‘This is Sid’s home and you just swallowed half of Sid’s dinner, so my business I’m making it. Your pie-bird friend is correct about the frogs, and the train tracks. Sid has heard about the wetlands. Many green-hoppers there indeed, so I’m told. Never been myself, no. Or have I? I can’t quite remember…’

  ‘Wetlands?’ Vince said, turning to look at Sid, then at Rita. ‘In the city?’

  ‘Yes. Wetlands,’ Rita replied. ‘Look, I know I’m not your friend. But I like you. I want to help you.’

  Once again, Vince’s belly rumbled noisily. He collapsed on his haunches, defeated by his own hunger. ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘Just tell me which direction this wetlands place is. I’ll find my own way.’

  Rita pointed her wing behind them. ‘It’s this way. Although I’m heading there myself, so you might as well follow me.’

  ‘Whatever.’ Vince made an about-turn, then stopped as he came face-to-face with Sid, who had finally caught them up. ‘Oh, uh, thanks for the food, by the way. Sorry for snapping at you,’ Vince mumbled.

  Sid furrowed his furry brow. ‘No trouble, red-furred Vince. However, it’s not Sid you should be delivering your apology to.’

  Vince looked at the ground between his front paws.

  ‘These fresh litters, I don’t know…’ Sid shrugged his hefty shoulders. ‘Well, be having fun, both of you. Sid believes yourselves to be most peculiar to be leaving Richmond Park, however I suppose Sid is too old now, for all this nonsense, indeed.’ He began to sniff at the ground, as if he had forgotten where he was, then suddenly remembering, lifted his head. ‘Wait… Wasn’t that…? Hmm…No. Never to be minding. Like a dandelion, Sid’s memory is. Good luck to you.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Rita smiled warmly at Sid, then turned to Vince. ‘So, you’re coming with me?’

  ‘I’m going this way. If you are too, then I suppose I can’t stop you.’

  ‘You could always eat me.’ Rita laughed, then flew ahead to a low branch and waited for Vince to catch up. Their previous travelling routine quickly re-established.

  ‘True,’ Vince replied. ‘You’re in luck though, because I’m in the mood for frogs.’

  *

  As Edward lounged in the long grass, he watched Kara approach high in the jet-black sky. The dark chestnut heart of feathers that outlined her ghostly face was unmistakable. He stood up as gracefully as any deer could, straightening his back legs to lift his rear end and then resting on his forelegs, before extending them one at a time. The barn owl swooped down and, with a few deft beats of her grey and ochre wings, landed gracefully in front of the deer.

  ‘You’re late. I sent for you an hour ago,’ Edward said.

  ‘Things to do, mice to eat,’ Kara said with a shrug. ‘Heard you need a message sent.’

  ‘Not quite,’ Edward replied. ‘I need you to find Vince. I need you to make sure he doesn’t get to where he’s going.’

  ‘Right, and I’m s’posed to do that how, exactly?’ Kara asked, then began preening the long flight feathers on one of her wings.

  ‘Find some animal – a dog, another fox or something – and tell them there’s a home for them here if they get rid of Vince.’

  ‘You mean kill him.’ The owl paused her primping and blinked her large eyes at Edward.

  ‘Exactly,’ he replied. The thought had entered Edward’s mind as soon as Vince left the previous morning, but Jake’s request had cemented it.

  ‘Why bother? He’s already gone.’

  ‘His death will be a warning to everyone here. They need to be reminded that the city is dangerous and that Richmond Park is the best home they’ll ever have. I have little doubt that Vince will fail on his own, but I’m not risking it. I can’t have him sending messages back, encouraging others to flout the rules or leave or… worse. Park Watch would fall apart. I’ve spent seasons making this park what it is and I won’t have that flea-ridden creature ruin it for me.’

  Kara spotted another ruffled feather. She dragged her pointed beak along it and the fine barbs bounced into pristine alignment. ‘What’s in it for me?’

  ‘You can hunt near the golf course. Where all the big rats are. Twice a week.’

  ‘Rats? Is that it? Make it four times a week, and two rabbits per moon.’

  ‘Three times a week, and one rabbit per moon,’ Edward said with a grunt. ‘But you have to be discreet about it. That’s my final offer. And I want Vince sorted as soon as possible. No dilly-dallying.’

  ‘Would I?’ she trilled innocently. ‘You have yourself a deal, Mister Deer. You know which way he went?’

  ‘North. He won’t have got far, though. I doubt he’s crossed the river yet, but check the bridges and ask around. You’ll fi
nd him. Wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already got himself killed. A soft park fox like him won’t last long in the city.’ Edward laughed. ‘Don’t let me down, Kara.’

  ‘Wherever he’s going, he won’t make it, don’t worry.’ Kara stretched her wings and turned away from the deer. ‘Nice doing business with you,’ she said over her shoulder, before a couple of wingbeats lifted her small frame off the ground. Straightening her legs back under her speckled tail feathers, she spiralled upwards, before disappearing into the darkness.

  The rabbits won’t thank me for that .

  But he could always blame one of those trespassing hawks that conveniently popped up every now and again, when he needed them to. He would vow to defend them from the malicious murderer, then do another deal with Kara so the rabbit deaths stopped, leaving Edward looking like the hero. Yes, with Vince dead thanks to the dangerous city and another deadly intruder seen off, his constituents would soon feel safer than ever.

  3

  After Rita chirped a goodbye to Sid, the badger beckoned her towards him. ‘Look after your red-furred friend. Sid can see you are a caring pie-bird, but that one is an angry creature. It is a most peculiar situation, but Sid believes you can locate the old-litter’s sleeping place. But watch out for the two-legged ones. Dangerous, they are. Sid remembers that, at least.’

  Rita thanked him, although his warning seemed unnecessary. Of course humans could be dangerous. Every animal knew that. She shrugged and wished him well, before leading Vince in the direction of the wetlands.

  It was a short walk from where they’d met Sid, across a few small fields separated by paths. The last field they crossed appeared to be used by humans for their play. There were white lines painted on the ground, the grass was cut uncomfortably short and trees were scarce. Vince hurried across it, eager to get out of the open space and gorge himself on the frogs Rita had promised him.

  The fox was sceptical, though. Not that he didn’t believe her, but he couldn’t understand why the humans could possibly want a bunch of great big ponds with no grass. In Richmond Park they ate picnics, played games, ran, let their dogs loose from their leads… But he couldn’t argue with the sign he’d seen as they turned up the path. Dark green with white human writing. He couldn’t read it, of course, but the white silhouettes of two geese above it were obvious even to his eyes. Geese meant water. Water meant frogs.

  ‘This is it! Scrraaaaack-ack-ack!’ Rita sang.

  ‘Please stop that,’ Vince said through clenched teeth. Despite Sid’s harsh words, he still hadn’t gathered the courage to apologise to Rita and her squawking wasn’t improving his motivation to do so.

  ‘No. You’re not asleep. That was your rule. No singing while you’re asleep. You’re not asleep, so I’m singing,’ she replied, before launching into a particularly loud bout of chattering. ‘SCRRAACK! SCRAAACK-ACK-ACK!’

  Vince bubbled with envy for humans, who could walk and hold their hands over their ears at the same time. He flattened his own ears to his head, but it made little difference.

  The pair passed over a bridge spanning a small pond before arriving at a large pale-brick building dotted with windows and dark wooden doors. A high slatted wooden fence stretched left and right, butting up against the building, with no apparent gates or gaps. Apart from a small paved area in front of the building, it was surrounded by thick greenery and flowers. Vince imagined it in daylight: insects buzzing, frogs plopping into the water, birds chirping among the plants.

  ‘If this is the outside, it must be amazing inside,’ Vince said, thinking out loud. ‘I’ll bet the fence goes all the way round. The humans must have to go through the building to get in. If they’re this restricted, then it must be even more exclusive than Richmond Park.’

  ‘Looks fancy,’ Rita squawked.

  ‘Mmm,’ Vince replied, then wandered off to look for a way in.

  ‘I’ll fly over. See if there’s anyone inside who can help.’ Rita flapped away before Vince could respond.

  Vince padded up to the fence and sniffed along the bottom, among the flower beds. A fox had been here before. Not recently, but there was definitely a lingering scent. A female. He followed it along the wood panels, then stopped, overcome with a desire to mark his own scent on the wood. As he did so, he thought back to the last time he’d had to mark his territory. Although his den back in the park was his and his alone, the pack had an understanding to never encroach on anyone else’s space. Even Jake, who was far from Vince’s biggest fan, respected his den. It was only the deer who didn’t. When he was a cub, Vince’s parents had taught him about marking territory, and how foxes outside the park would try to one-up each other to claim the best areas, but it wasn’t until he was older, and his parents were gone, that he was forced to claim the den for his own. Even then, he’d never fully understood why he had to do it. He’d grown up in a safe community where even enemies respected one another, but this instinct, to mark his territory, ran deep.

  He continued along the fence as it turned a right angle, the unfamiliar scent leading him further and further from the building.

  If anyone knows a way through this fence, a fox does.

  His intuition was right. The scent intensified as the covering bushes disappeared, making way for a road and a large gate made of the same wooden slats as the fence. A thick metal chain hung from the middle, locking the two halves together, but it didn’t matter to Vince. The bottom edge of the fence was a couple of paws’ width higher than the surface of the road, giving him – or any other fox – room to squeeze underneath. A smattering of red hairs caught on the wood left him in no doubt.

  Belly flat to the ground, Vince gripped the solid concrete as best he could and pushed himself through the crack with his powerful hind legs. He shook his ears and looked around. His paws remained on hard ground, and the fence doubled back on itself, forming an enclosed square, with another gate, identical to the one he’d just navigated, directly in front of him. A large human truck sat in the far corner, along with a pile of boxes and some rubbish bins. The back of the brick building sat to his right, making up the fourth side of the square. Unsurprisingly, the area was devoid of ponds and frogs, but over the far fence he could see the tops of tall trees, leaves rustling invitingly. He grinned.

  He hurried through the concrete area, ears up and eyes forward, then – just as he reached the second gate – Rita appeared from behind the fence and perched on top of it. ‘You found it! Good. Come on, come on! Quick!’ she chattered, before disappearing as quickly as she’d arrived.

  Vince quickly slid under the gate and was met on the other side by Rita hopping gleefully in the middle of a round, paved area. ‘Look at it all! Isn’t it lovely?’

  Vince took it all in. Paths snaked around small, pristine grassy areas dotted with picnic benches and irregular shaped ponds, glossy lily pads floating serenely on their surfaces. It was blissfully quiet. The only things breaking the silence were the water lapping at the banks and the reeds rustling in the breeze.

  ‘It looks great.’ He smiled at Rita, the stress of his journey so far all but forgotten. ‘I’m dying for some dinner, there’d better be some frogs in one of these ponds.’ He leapt over the fence with ease and made his way down the bank to the shallow water, Rita following close behind. Vince scanned for shadows under the surface. ‘Be quiet, or you’ll scare them off,’ he whispered, crouching low, ears up.

  They remained motionless, Rita watching Vince intently, for half a minute or so. Suddenly, Vince’s ears twitched and he sprang forward, his forelegs piercing the mirror of water, droplets spraying in all directions. Rita jumped back, protecting her feathers, as Vince dragged a squirming, dark-green frog from the pool, which was now murky from the disturbed silt. The frog croaked a protest in rudimentary water-language from under Vince’s paw. ‘No! Away, fox!’ Vince lowered his head to consume his long-awaited prize, when a piercing scream tore through the air.

  ‘Arreeeee! Eeoo! Arreeeee! Eeoo!’

&nbs
p; Vince jumped, showering water around them both once again as he stumbled in the shallows. The frog made its escape and disappeared into the water with a plop. ‘What on earth was that?’

  ‘Arreeeee! Who’s there?’ the voice screeched. ‘Danger! Danger!’

  ‘We’re sorry, we didn’t mean to intrude,’ Rita called into the dark. ‘We were just looking for some food and somewhere to sleep for the day.’

  ‘Thought you could eat my eggs, did you?’ A vast, grey bird appeared out of the darkness and, after clocking them, cried, ‘Fox! Magpie! DANGER! ARREEEEE!’ The bird spun in a circle and shook her enormous wings wildly.

  They had never seen or heard anything like her. She was ash grey, as tall as Vince, her huge, clawed feet and angry face both the same shade of vivid pink. The comical tuft of dark feathers protruding from the back of her head did not lessen the impact of her curved, razor-sharp beak.

  ‘Calm down!’ Vince began. ‘We’re sorry, we didn’t realise—’

  The bird stopped spinning and lunged at Vince. In a flail of feathers, she jabbed her pointed beak into the flesh of his cheek.

  ‘Ouch! Mother Nature!’ Vince raised a paw to his bleeding face.

  Rita beat her wings, ready to retaliate, when the bird shrieked again. ‘Felipe! Felipe! Get over here! Danger!’

  Vince searched the area for whoever she was calling to but saw only two otters in the distance, their dark-brown fur slick with water. They crouched, avoiding his gaze, and looked at each other worriedly.

  Vince’s stomach lurched. Rita trembled beside him and whispered, ‘I shouldn’t have brought us here. I’m so sorry. Come on, Vince, run…’

  ‘No! ARREEEEE!’ The bird lunged again and ripped at the fur on Vince’s neck.