The Fox of Richmond Park Page 7

  ‘Stay where you are, fox! I mean it!’ The security team closed in on the platform.

  ‘His name is VINCE! SCRRRRRAAAAACK!’ Rita’s shriek pierced the air. She emerged from within the dense leaves of a nearby tree and soared high above the mass of birds. In her talons, she clutched something white and round.

  ‘Arreeeee! My egg! She’s got my egg! ARREEEEE!’ Gabriela screamed and flapped hysterically, launching a spray of water over Oswald.

  ‘Let him go, or I’ll drop it,’ Rita called from the air as she circled the bank, her long tail outstretched behind her, shimmering green in the dusky moonlight.

  ‘No! No!’ Gabriela flapped furiously and pedalled at the water as she tried to make her way to the bank. Felipe followed, squeezing through the packed rows of geese, swans and ducks.

  ‘Stop her! Someone fly up and stop her!’ Oswald shouted.

  A horde of water birds beat their wings, but there was no room for their near-horizontal take-offs. The shallows were a frenzy of feathers. Swans knocked ducks sideways with their massive wings, the ducks angrily nipping at the swans’ flanks with their blunt beaks in retaliation.

  On the bank, the land birds simply watched and smiled as Rita zipped across the shadowy sky. Probably fearing retribution, the squirrels, rabbits, mice and rats had already fled.

  Gabriela finally made it to shore. The small land birds flitted away in an instant as she barrelled across the grass.

  ‘No! Rita!’ Vince yelled.

  Gabriela sprang into the air and beat her wings desperately, but tumbled back to the earth.

  Oswald honked at his colleagues surrounding Vince. ‘Do something! You know her wings are clipped!’

  The birds looked at each other, then at Vince, then back at Oswald.

  The ineptitude of his team had worn away the last of Oswald’s already thin patience. ‘I’ll stay with the fox, you two get the magpie, the rest of you calm everyone down. GO!’

  The birds split up. Two geese turned away from the bank and made their long take-off, running along the water’s surface as if it were solid ground beneath their webbed feet. Eventually, their broad wings lifted them into the air and they circled around, soaring over Vince and towards the bank.

  The remaining security paddled into the throng. Arguments had broken out; some birds had left the water and were trying to settle Gaby and Felipe. The team honked loudly, calling for everyone to compose themselves.

  Oswald remained, his dark marble eyes fixed on Vince. ‘Don’t think for one second that you’re going to get away with this, fox,’ he spat. ‘You move one inch and I’ll drown you myself.’

  Vince said nothing. His eyes followed Rita. She whirled in large circles above the entire rabble, unable to land on any branch due to the egg tightly gripped in her feet. She seemed to be slowing, her wingbeats laboured, sinking lower to the ground with every loop.

  ‘Rita!’ Vince called. ‘Be careful!’

  Still she soared. The two Screamers hopped helplessly below her, air rushing uselessly through their clipped wings. The two geese approached like arrows, streamlined beaks and sleek, white bodies ripping through the sky. Rita turned her small head and looked at Vince, her tiny black eyes glittering.

  ‘SCRAAAACK-ACK-ACK-ACK!’ she sang, as her talons opened.

  The skirmish in the water ceased. A hundred birds – including Oswald – turned in an instant to witness the egg fall to earth and splatter on the patchy grass. Gabriela screamed.

  Vince’s gaze was locked on Rita, all thoughts of escape long gone. The magpie forced her final drops of strength into her wings, and careered into a tree, leaves quivering in her wake. The geese were close behind. Their bulky bodies slammed into the treetop with a flurry of feathers and leaves. They struggled and honked, the branches creaking as their flat webbed feet grasped and slipped on the smooth bark, but their sheer size and the density of the branches kept them suspended aloft. Rita was utterly lost in the tangle.

  ‘Rita!’ Vince called again as the front of platform rose out of the water. ‘What the—’ The back end sunk into the dark pond. He staggered backwards, scrabbling at the wood with his front claws as his rear end splashed into the water. Oswald heard Vince’s shouts and turned. He opened his beak to signal the rest of the team, but the honks turned to muffled whispers as Vince was dragged under the surface and icy water filled his ears.

  *

  Sophie found Edward in the copse of trees near the lake – Vince’s former territory – settling down to sleep in the grass. She looked sadly at the ruined earth before addressing the deer.

  ‘Edward, can I have a word?’

  Edward sighed melodramatically. ‘Can’t it wait until morning?’

  She took a deep breath. ‘I’ll make it quick. Jake said you agreed to send a bird after Vince. Shouldn’t we have heard something by now? It’s been a whole night and day. I’m worried, I can’t sleep… I just need to know that he’s okay.’

  ‘I am aware of your feelings towards your friend, which is why I sent Kara. And a fat lot of thanks I’ve got for it too,’ he snorted.

  ‘You sent Kara?’ Sophie said.

  ‘Of course. She’s the best hunter in Richmond Park. If anyone can find a fox out there, she can.’

  ‘She’s a rat’s backside.’

  ‘A rat’s backside who will get the job done,’ Edward said.

  ‘Have you forgotten what she did? When she dug up all the rats we were storing and ate them all herself?’

  ‘And didn’t I sort that out for you?’

  ‘Yes, but…’

  Edward turned away from Sophie. He dropped his forelegs to the ground, then bent his back legs before lowering his body to the grass with a thump. ‘Will that be all?’ he said.

  ‘What if Vince is in danger? What if he needs our help? Will she try to help him?’ Sophie said to the back of Edward’s head.

  Edward slowly turned to face her as he spoke. His voice was calm, but irritation laced the silence in between his words. ‘Kara’s instructions were to find him and report back. You forget, Sophie, that Vince left of his own accord, and as he is no longer a resident of Richmond Park, his welfare is not my concern. Unless you make it my concern, of course.’

  ‘A bribe, you mean,’ Sophie said.

  ‘A deal. But call it whatever you want. Help doesn’t come for free. You should know that by now.’ Edward smirked.

  ‘No thanks. You’ve already got enough idiots doing your bidding. I’ll wait for Kara,’ Sophie said before turning away.

  ‘So true,’ Edward replied, still smirking, but Sophie was already gone; a rufous blur tearing across the open park.

  4

  Small paws gripped the fur on Vince’s back and sharp teeth clenched his scruff and tail. He squirmed as he was hauled through the water, twisting and kicking, but the teeth and claws held firm. The moments rolled by like days and nights. His lungs burned. The urge to gasp for air was overpowering, but he held on.

  Eyes clamped shut, he concentrated on the muted noise fading fast behind him. The creatures were obviously taking him somewhere, and not trying to drown him. He stopped resisting, letting his body go limp.

  The jaws around his tail jerked and released their grip, but the rest didn’t budge. A sharp pain ripped through his flank. Instinctively, he kicked out, but the animals clamped down harder and swam onwards. Lungs now empty, he bucked and wrestled, clawing his way to the surface. The animals yielded, pushing him upwards. His snout broke the surface and he gulped down lungfuls of air, wheezing, as he beat his paws against the waves. Otters – four of them – emerged around him, their small heads like round, mossy rocks. They had dragged him away from the bank and the birds, towards the middle of the lake.

  Then Vince saw the bird. A cormorant. Black, slick like oil, riding low in the water. It dived.

  ‘Quick!’ one of the otters shouted. ‘Follow us!’

  Vince pedalled his front legs frenetically – the only way he knew how to swim – but found
little resistance, his tail and back legs trailing uselessly behind him. His whole body ached and his right hind leg throbbed, but he moved as fast as his paws could manage. The otters were swifter, winding their way through the water with their undulating tails. They made it a few leaps before realising Vince couldn’t keep up, then turned back to help him.

  A strong beak grabbed the brush of his tail and jerked him down, submerging his head. He thrashed, kicking with his back legs and reaching for his attacker with his front, but the bird was agile. It let go, and zig-zagged away.

  Vince resurfaced, gasping, and the otters arrived at his side. ‘We’ve got to get to land,’ one of them panted. Two of them each grabbed a front leg and the other two supported his sides. Again, they began to drag him, this time on the water’s surface, their tails blurred as they whipped back and forth. Despite the pain, Vince pedalled his back legs. With the extra force, they seemed to motor across the pond. He took a deep breath. There was no way that bird had given up.

  His instinct was right. The cormorant grabbed him again, higher up his tail this time. Another beak closed around his foot. Backup had arrived. Together the birds wrenched him towards the depths, thrusting against the water with their powerful wings and webbed feet. The otters pulled back, paddling upwards. Vince was caught in the middle. A fox tug-of-war.

  Vince twisted and snapped at the birds, missing by inches. He tried again, throwing the otters off, and grazed a wing with his teeth. A bundle of black feathers hung in the water, but the cormorants held fast, pulling him backwards, further and further down into the darkness. A shelf of mud rose up underneath him. Black rocks jutted at all angles like daggers. His chest raged with pain. The air in his lungs was almost gone. One last chance. He bent forward, head towards his tail, and lunged. His jaws slammed shut onto the bird, fangs sinking into the soft flesh above its tail. With a deft twist of his neck, he wrenched it free and cast it away into the obscurity of the deep water, a trail of crimson blood dispersing behind it.

  Horror in its eyes, the other cormorant darted away before Vince could make another move, but it made no difference. The last fizz of Vince’s oxygen had gone. Reaching his front paws towards the pale orange light shimmering above him, he pulled his hind legs towards him and kicked back one last time. The dappled sun faded. His muscles relaxed. Water rushed over his tongue and down his airway, filling his crumpled, empty lungs.

  *

  Inside the fence the animals had dispersed and returned to their homes but, high among the trees, the land birds and squirrels whispered to one another about the fox and the magpie. They had never seen a mammal escape the platform, nor seen Oswald angrier. They worried for the otters, and the repercussions their actions might have on all of them.

  Below, water birds paced the undergrowth, stomping down the long grass and weeds with their flat feet, no doubt searching for signs of the fox. A feeding pair of rabbits, disturbed by a goose, darted away and hid under a nearby bramble.

  ‘Get back to your burrows,’ the goose honked, then tilted his beak upwards. ‘And stop that noise up there!’

  ‘No rules against talking,’ one of the squirrels squeaked.

  The goose puffed his chest out and continued on his search for traces of Vince. A bird laughed, and several others joined in. The rabbits crept back to their feeding spot and looked up at the squirrels overhead. Flashing a smile, not caring whether the goose heard or not, the squirrel shouted down to the rabbits, ‘They can’t put us all on the platform.’

  The rabbits grinned at each other.

  *

  ‘Push again! Nearly there!’

  The empty darkness embraced Vince like a cool, mossy blanket. His limbs were numb, the voices around him distant and foggy.

  ‘One more time! Come on… Come on…’

  Tiny paws pounded his tender ribcage. ‘Vince! Wake up!’ A faint voice pierced the fog, like a thorn through skin. ‘You’re not dead. I know you’re not dead.’

  A fiery pain roared through his chest. The safety of the darkness unfurled from around him, a throbbing swelling in his leg. The breeze nipped at the peck wounds that peppered his wet fur.

  The paws thumped again, again, again, the pain rising with each heavy beat.

  No… Just leave me.

  ‘I saw him move! I did! Keep going!’

  As the hammering on his chest continued, his mind drifted back. The cormorants, the swans, the platform on the water. Sid, the train tracks, Richmond Park. It felt like a season – a lifetime – ago, yet it had only been two nights. He’d barely gone anywhere, seen anything of the world.

  Thump, thump, thump… His ribs ached, his bones longed for silence and rest, but something wanted him alive. Thump, thump… But he had so far to go, still. How could he make it now?

  ‘Wake up! Yes! You can do it!’

  Only half voluntarily, Vince relented. His jaws fell open and he gasped. His chest and stomach heaved and he vomited over the damp grass, watery bile stinging his nostrils and throat. He opened his eyes and blinked away the stream of tears. The four otters sat around him, smiling and clapping their wet paws together.

  Not dead.

  Drowned. Wounded. Homeless. Lost… But not dead.

  Now that they were all on land, Vince could see they were a family. Two adults and two pups, a male and female of each. He took a few rasping breaths as one of the smaller otters stroked his flank, then rolled onto his front, facing them.

  ‘Wh… Where…’ he croaked.

  ‘Just outside the fence. We can’t hang around too long, though,’ the young male otter replied, looking around nervously. ‘Security will be searching for us. We shouldn’t be out here.’

  Vince blinked at his new surroundings. They had brought him – dragged him, probably; wet blades of grass still clung to his filthy fur – to the edge of a long dirt path where the familiar fence divided the tall, dense trees of the wetlands’ perimeter from the short grass where they now crouched. He slowly pulled himself upright and coughed deeply, his lungs a mass of brambles in his chest.

  ‘You need to find somewhere to hide and rest,’ the mother otter said. ‘You can’t outrun them like this. They won’t look out here, none of us ever come past the fence.’

  Vince looked down at the bloody wound on his back leg where the cormorant had ripped his flesh away. ‘Why are you helping me?’ he said, each jagged word catching in the rawness of his throat.

  The father explained, ‘The little ones saw what happened with the Screamers. We know you didn’t do anything wrong. We don’t normally get involved, but—’

  ‘We heard the security team talking,’ the mother interjected. ‘They had no intention of letting you go free, even with a proper vote. It makes us so angry, the way they treat you… Us.’ She shook her head. ‘We wish we could help you more, but…’ She trailed off and looked towards the fence.

  ‘Why can’t you leave?’ Vince said.

  ‘Where can we go? The city isn’t the place for otters,’ the father said. ‘And it’s okay, really. The humans take care of us, there’s always food. It’s clean and safe, no cats or dogs running around after dark. It’s hard to leave somewhere like this, you know? The votes don’t really affect the residents too much, it’s more of a power trip for the water birds. It’s just…’ He paused and sighed. ‘Hard. We feel responsible, you know? Season after season, we have to stay here and watch mammals get… get drowned, or… or…’

  ‘Don’t upset yourself, darling. Let’s try to forget about it for now.’ The female nuzzled her mate and smiled sadly.

  ‘I understand, and it’s not your fault. I came from somewhere a bit like this. If there’s anything I can do…’ Vince said.

  ‘You’ve done more than enough. What you said up on the platform…’

  The young female grinned. ‘It was so great! Everything’s going to change! No more mean swan bossing us around!’

  ‘Calm down, sweetie,’ the father said. ‘It might not be that easy. Oswald has been
in charge for a long time, but Vince has started something good, I’m sure.’

  ‘Well, that’s something.’ Vince coughed again and shook his damp fur. ‘Thank you. For saving me.’

  ‘Well, you should thank your magpie friend. If she hadn’t—’

  Rita.

  He’d almost forgotten. His empty stomach heaved with guilt and dread. ‘Rita. Is she okay? Where is she?’ he said.

  The otters looked at each other, then back to him. ‘We don’t know.’

  ‘I have to go back. I have to find her.’ Vince turned and sniffed at the fence, searching for the way through.

  ‘The security team will be looking for you,’ said the young male pup. ‘And you need to rest your leg.’

  ‘What if she’s in danger? She saved me, I need to save her.’

  ‘She’ll be okay,’ the pup said. ‘Birds always—’

  ‘Shut up! Don’t you dare compare her to those birds!’ Vince snarled.

  The pup backed away into his mother’s arms.

  ‘Oh, Mother Nature, I’m so sorry,’ Vince said. ‘I’m just worried. I didn’t mean to…’

  ‘It’s okay, we know you care about her, but he’s right. There will be security everywhere. In your state, you won’t make it out of the trees before they’ve got you back on that platform, if the Screamers don’t finish you off first,’ the father said.

  Vince paced back and forth along the fence, limping as his wounded leg failed to hold his weight. ‘I know, but… I just can’t leave her,’ he said.

  In his mind’s eye, he watched again as Rita flew in circles, energy drained, then slammed into the tree, the geese so close behind. A tired and injured magpie wouldn’t last a night and day alone, especially with the Screamers out for revenge. And what was the point of trying to find his grandparents’ park if she wasn’t there with him? How could he live in peace anywhere now, knowing what it had cost?

  ‘What if she’s hurt and can’t fly? What if she’s hiding somewhere, waiting for me? I have to go back.’