The Fox of Richmond Park Page 9

  ‘My bad. I’m told I sound like one of those humans’ car horns when I’m hungry,’ the vixen said. ‘This fox you’re after… He in trouble or something?’

  ‘Very much so!’ Roger said. ‘Wanted for trespassing. He’s on the run! We’re—’

  ‘Quiet, Roger,’ Frank hissed.

  ‘Trespassing? You must be from the wetlands, then…’ the vixen said. ‘What a place, eh? I’ve heard all about those big lakes. Wow, the frogs I would eat if I could get myself in there, I tell you…’

  ‘Yes, well. That’s not your concern. Have you seen the fox or not?’ Frank said.

  ‘I’ve seen a lot of foxes tonight, to be honest. So, you geese are in charge, then? How exciting! I never thought I’d get to meet the leaders of the wetlands. My friends are going to be so jealous!’

  ‘Ahem, well, not exactly…’ Frank said.

  ‘Oswald’s in charge, really. He’s our boss,’ Jules said, before adding. ‘He’s a swan.’

  ‘One swan? Well, now, that is interesting,’ the vixen said. ‘You know… No, I probably shouldn’t say. I mean, I suppose it doesn’t really matter who’s making the rules, right? Of course, I’m only a fox, so what do I know?’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Frank said.

  ‘Oh, nothing, it’s just we all assumed it was the geese who were giving the orders over there. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’ve got nothing against swans, but in my experience, geese are proper team players. Swans, not so much. And then I find you lot out here tracking down a trespasser, you know, getting scat done, teamwork… That’s what leaders do. Setting an example.’

  ‘Erm…’ Frank said. ‘I don’t—’

  ‘Look, you’re the ones putting yourselves in danger by being out here, and your boss – Oswald, was it? – he’s where? In his comfy nest, sleeping? Having a nice relaxing swim? I just hope you guys are appreciated, that’s all I’m saying.’

  ‘Appreciated?’ Roger said.

  ‘Sure. Some extra food here, a nicer nesting spot there. That’s what being at the top of the food chain’s all about, right?’

  Vince held his breath as the geese’s silence filled the air. Whether she meant to help him or not, the vixen was clearly smart. If only he’d tried harder to outwit the birds when he was on the platform. If he hadn’t lost his temper at the trial… Vince blinked away the thoughts. This was no time to wallow.

  ‘We… We don’t get that… Do we, Roger?’ said Jules.

  ‘No… No, we don’t,’ Roger replied.

  Frank interrupted. ‘Stop this pointless prattle right now. We’re here to do a job. Oswald chose us to serve on the security team because of our strength, bravery and loyalty. It’s our responsibility to serve our community. Appreciation has nothing to do with it.’

  ‘Well,’ the vixen began, ‘if you look at it that way, I suppose responsibility and respect is its own reward for a lifetime of servitude. Whatever works for you guys, I guess. Personally, if I was spending my nights hunting mammals with the potential to tear my head off, I’d want the best view of the lake and first dibs on food each morning, but that’s just me.’

  The birds fell quiet again. Damn, she was good.

  Donna broke the silence. ‘She’s right, you know.’

  ‘Uh huh,’ Jules agreed.

  ‘No! Shut up!’ Frank said. ‘It’s not like that… It’s… He’s…’

  ‘Oh dear, did I say something wrong?’ Vince detected a smirk in the vixen’s voice.

  ‘I don’t know why we never thought about it before,’ Roger said. ‘Risking our lives all this time, and what for? Not even a thank you! Oswald is the one who’s always telling us how dangerous it is outside the fence, but when he wants something done, he sends us out here anyway. He doesn’t even care if we get killed, does he?’

  ‘It’s… It’s not about caring… It’s about—’ Frank began, before Donna interrupted.

  ‘Find the fox at all costs, you said! That means us! He gets to make all the rules. It’s not fair, is it, guys? You know what? I think us geese would be better leaders.’

  ‘We should definitely bring this up at the next security briefing,’ Roger said.

  ‘No! Let’s go back and tell him right now. We can get the other geese on our side first,’ Donna said.

  ‘I cannot believe I’m hearing this! We are here to kill the fox! We are not leaving here until he is dead, do you understand?’ Frank said.

  ‘Listen,’ the vixen interrupted. ‘Clearly, I’ve touched a nerve, and I think it’s best that you have a talk with your boss. I’ll keep an eye out for this fox, but honestly, he’s probably dead by now anyway. There’s traps and cars and whatnot all around here. You know what? I thought I smelled blood earlier. That’s what brought me here, before I ran into you. I bet he’s not far. If I find him, I’ll keep him here, then you guys could come back and do whatever it is you need to do.’

  ‘We can’t trust an outsider, and we can’t go back without the fox, I’m sorry,’ Frank said.

  Indignant groans rose from the other three birds.

  ‘Guys, I don’t know what this Oswald has told you about us non-wetlanders, but I promise you we’re all perfectly nice,’ the vixen said. ‘I just wanted to help you out, one animal to another, but I understand if that’s not how things are done over your way.’

  ‘See! She’s not horrible like Oswald says! Who knows what else he’s lied about! Like the vixen said, the fox is probably dead by now anyway. Let’s just tell Oswald we found his body and leave it at that – it’s not like he’s going to come back. We’re sick of this. Aren’t you?’ Roger said to Frank.

  ‘This is not about us, it is about the community. How do you think Oswald is going to react to this insolence? We simply cannot return without the fox’s body. I will not be held responsible otherwise, do you understand?’

  ‘Fine. We’re going to speak to Oswald, aren’t we? Come on, Donna, Jules.’ The three geese beat their wings as they made their run-up along the grass, in the direction of the wetlands.

  ‘Wait! Get back here. NOW!’ Frank yelled at their backsides as they took off into the dark sky, leaving him alone – almost – with the vixen.

  *

  Sophie and Jake weaved through the mottled gravestones of the cemetery, the moon overhead lightly cloaked in silver clouds.

  ‘Get the job done. That’s what he said, Jake,’ Sophie said. Edward’s words had been playing on her mind ever since their conversation.

  ‘And?’ Jake said.

  ‘Don’t you think that sounds odd?’

  ‘Not really. You know Edward – he likes to ponce things up. Wants to sound important.’

  ‘I suppose,’ Sophie said. ‘It was the way he said it, though… Made it sound like something bad.’

  ‘I think you’re reading too much into it, Soph.’

  ‘Maybe.’ A tiny, brown ball zipped across their path. Sophie chased it, ducking behind a gravestone and emerging almost instantly with a lifeless mouse in her jaws. She gulped it down. ‘He tried to get me to do a deal with him too. Help doesn’t come for free… Blah blah blah.’ She held her paws up to her head, mimicking antlers. ‘What did he ask you to do in return for sending Kara, by the way? You never told me.’

  ‘Oh, just some food collecting a couple of times a week for the herd. You know how lazy they are – can’t be bothered to find their own acorns.’

  ‘Yeah, lazy twig-heads. I just worry, you know? I think Edward’s pride was dented. I don’t think he actually thought Vince would leave. Maybe he’s worried that people won’t respect him now and he needs to make some kind of statement.’

  ‘Hmm, maybe,’ Jake said absentmindedly as he nosed a loose pile of earth.

  ‘Are you listening to me?’

  ‘Yes!’

  ‘Then what did I just say?’

  Jake looked at her and smiled. ‘That you think Edward is worried that he’s lost our respect and wants to make a statement. See, I’m not such a terrible mate, am I
?’

  Sophie narrowed her eyes, returning his smile. ‘You’ve got dirt on your nose.’ She bounded behind a bush, giggling.

  ‘Get back here!’ Jake circled the bush from the other direction.

  Sophie lifted her eyes to meet his. ‘No, you’re alright, I suppose.’ She smiled as she wriggled her backside, whipping her tail left to right, then pounced on him, gently batting his snout with a paw.

  Jake rolled over, all four legs in the air, and laughed. ‘You have beaten me, oh strong, powerful vixen! Please, make my death quick and painless! I beg you!’

  Sophie pinned him to the ground, her front paws pressing on his white chest. ‘Your death will be long and agonising if you don’t back me up on this. I know Edward’s not telling us everything. Maybe it’s nothing, but I have a weird feeling.’

  ‘You know I’ll always back you up. I’ll ask around later. Maybe someone else has heard something,’ he said, still upside down.

  Sophie reached over and nuzzled him. ‘Thank you. Now, please catch me a nice big rat. I’m starving.’

  ‘Of course, oh brilliant, beautiful vixen!’ Jake rolled away and jumped to his feet. ‘Oh wise, wonderful vixen!’ He ran off, zig-zagging through the tall, mossy headstones. ‘Oh enchanting, excellent vixen!’

  Sophie cocked her head as she watched him frolicking around the cemetery like a lunatic, knowing he was only doing it to make her laugh. Her happiness was the reason he did most things. Vince had loved her, had been kind to her, but Vince always came first to Vince. His arguments with Edward and the other deer had ruined more evenings than she could count. Jake was different. He never raised his voice. His displays of daftness were infrequent but no less sincere than his steadfast earnestness. Everything he did was for her.

  ‘You’ll never catch anything if you keep that dreadful noise up!’ she called as she followed him.

  Jake reached a tree with an ancient stone slab resting against its trunk. Sophie watched as he crouched, waved his tail, then thrust his head and forepaws into the triangular tunnel. He struggled for a few blinks but then pulled out a rat, brown and plump. He presented it to Sophie with a grin across his cobweb-draped face.

  ‘Nope.’ Sophie smiled at him. ‘Not terrible at all.’

  *

  Frank paced back and forth in front of the vixen, the rest of his team now almost out of sight. ‘Mother Nature! They’re in for a shock when they get back. Oswald is not one to take any subordination lightly.’ Frank was almost talking to himself. ‘What am I going to do now? Even if I find him somehow, I can’t kill a fox alone. I’ll have to go back with them.’

  ‘No, this is perfect!’ the vixen said. ‘You get to be the hero now! I can help you.’

  ‘You would help me kill one of your own? I, uh…’

  ‘Sure, why not? I don’t know him, and you say he’s a trespasser, so who am I to argue? Maybe you can do something for me, as a thank you.’

  Vince tensed. She wasn’t on his side. Unless she was messing with the goose? She’d got rid of three of them and Frank was ready to leave. Why hadn’t she let him?

  ‘Oh?’ Frank said.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know… five nights in the wetlands, as many frogs as I can eat?’

  ‘Ah, I see Oswald was right about the animals out here. No community spirit. Always wanting something,’ he tutted. ‘Anyway, Oswald simply would not allow it. We have strict rules about outsiders, particularly those with four legs. No offence. I, uh, really should be getting ba—’

  ‘Come on, where are those famous goose guts?’ the vixen interrupted. ‘Don’t you want to tell your boss that you found and killed the fox? You’ll be a hero! Oswald’ll put you first in line for the humans’ bread-crusts for this.’ Frank protested, but the vixen carried on. ‘Listen, Frank, I do something for you, you do something for me – how is that not community spirit? Your friends have abandoned you and I’m offering you help. All I’m asking is a few nights of safety and some decent meals. It’s hard, living on the streets, you know. You’re not going to make me beg, are you, Frank?’

  She oozed charm. Vince was transfixed, despite not being able to see her. There were worse ways to die than at the teeth of such a brazen, captivating creature.

  Frank sighed. ‘I can’t promise anything, you understand? But if you kill the fox and help me bring his body back to the wetlands, then I’ll see what I can arrange with Oswald.’

  ‘No problem. You’re trustworthy, I can tell. Right, I definitely smelled him around here somewhere.’ Vince heard the vixen’s feet padding towards him. ‘Yep, some blood over here – fresh too. But listen, if he’s not dead then he might still be dangerous, so you’d better leave this to me, alright?’

  ‘Um, okay. And you can keep him under control, yes? Not that I can’t, you understand, just that you’re better equipped…’

  ‘Of course. Wait there. He could have been listening this whole time, waiting to pounce.’

  The bushes rustled, then parted, and the red-and-white face of the vixen appeared on the other side of the bars. Her eyes were light green, like almost-turned autumn leaves. She sniffed the cage and Vince. ‘How hurt are you?’ she whispered. Her smell was intoxicating.

  ‘Huh?’ Vince replied.

  She rolled her eyes. ‘Can you stand? Walk?’

  ‘Er, just about.’

  ‘Good. Play along.’

  ‘Okay, er… What do I—’

  Before he could finish, she disappeared from the bushes and called to Frank. ‘Believe it or not, he’s here, stuck in a trap. Half dead – won’t be too much trouble but we’ll have to let him out to finish him off, so I’ll need your help. Unless you’d rather just leave him here…’

  ‘Well I never. He was right here this whole time?’ Frank said. ‘But no, I can’t risk him escaping somehow and making his way back to the wetlands. I need him dead.’

  ‘Of course. Follow me.’ The vixen entered the bushes again, then circled the cage until she was behind Vince. The goose was close behind; Vince could feel the warmth from its massive bulk. He closed his eyes, rested his head against the bars and let his tail go limp in an attempt to look as pathetic as the vixen was making him out to be.

  Mother Nature help me.

  The vixen spoke to the goose. ‘Okay, I need you to pull back that catch there on the top. Do you see it? Then I’ll lift the door with my snout at the same time. Hopefully he’ll cooperate. You can grab him so he doesn’t escape, right?’

  ‘Certainly,’ Frank replied.

  Above Vince, the goose’s beak clanged against the bars, then came a creaking as the vixen forced the door upwards against its strong spring.

  The pressure on his tail relented and Vince began to reverse. The bottom edge of the cage door scraped along his spine, then a beak seized his tail. Vince growled under his breath and continued backwards until his front paws, shoulders and head were free and the door sprang shut again with a deafening clang. Before he could stretch his aching muscles, the goose yanked him backwards. Vince stumbled. His instinct screamed at him to fight but the vixen paced back and forth in front of him, her piercing eyes locked onto his for the second time, silently warning him to remain still, or else.

  Whose side is she on?

  Vince braced himself, ready to dodge her jaws and run – dragging the goose along with him if necessary.

  ‘Thank you, Frank. You can release him now. I don’t think he’s going to be any trouble.’

  ‘Aah hoo ure?’ Frank muttered, his beak full of fur.

  ‘I’m sure,’ she replied, with the briefest of winks.

  Was that at me or the goose? ME OR THE GOOSE?

  Frank released Vince’s tail and retreated a few steps. Vince quickly stepped to the side, forming a triangle with the two animals so he could keep them both in sight.

  ‘Now!’ the vixen barked as she sprang towards the goose, soaring through the air as if on her own pair of invisible wings. Frank honked in terror, puffed out his broad, white chest and extende
d his wings to vicious points. The vixen’s paws grazed the wall of feathers. Her wide jaws followed but missed his slender neck as he snapped it away. She was quick to react, twisting her own head and clamping her teeth onto his thick shoulder.

  Frank’s eyes bulged as he jabbed his beak towards her face. He missed, then tried again, striking her above the eye, then the temple. She began to bleed. She bit deeper, harder, but he was too large, his muscles too strong. She couldn’t adjust her grip to finish him off without him breaking free.

  Her eyes flickered to Vince, wide with desperation. He stood frozen, staring uselessly, before he finally realised that she was, indeed, on his side. He jumped into the fray and snapped at the goose’s head as it darted between the two foxes, dealing jab after jab. Vince retreated, panting, his vision a blur. His damaged leg gave way underneath him as he watched the vixen wrestle with the huge bird.

  Frank escaped her grip, deafening them with his shrieks, and began to run. He flapped, but one wing flopped uselessly at his side, his shoulder pouring with dark blood.

  ‘Help me, for Mother’s sake,’ the vixen barked in between gasps of air as she chased the goose down.

  Vince clambered to his feet, head spinning, and ran. He reached them in a moment, but the vixen had already pinned the goose to the ground. She sunk her teeth into his neck and the allotments fell silent as Frank’s head flopped to the ground, blood pouring into the grass.

  ‘Mother Nature. What the…’ Vince shook his head as he dragged his gaze from the goose’s lifeless body to the vixen. All he saw was blood. It covered her muzzle and chest, the white of her fur replaced with dark crimson. Her right eye was half closed from the blood that streamed from the beak-wound above it and pooled in the corner by her snout. Vince’s heart thumped in his chest and ears and his legs shook from the adrenaline coursing through him.

  ‘You’re welcome,’ the vixen said flatly.

  ‘Scat. I mean… Thank you. But…’ He shook his head again and his leg collapsed once more. He let himself fall this time.