The Christmas Songbird

by Emma Hardwick

  “Do you know where Thomas is? I haven’t seen him all morning?”

  “I gave him some money and sent him to St. Giles to fetch a friend of mine,” answered Max.

  “This morning?”

  “No, last night.”

  “And he isn’t back yet?”

  “I hope not,” whispered Max behind his hand with a nudge and a wink.

  David frowned, wanting more of an explanation.

  “I sent him to find my friend Sergeant Payne who served in the 22nd regiment in India.”

  “Why?”

  “I need Payne to look after Sundatara, of course,” beamed Max.

  “Sundatara—?”

  “—that elephant of Mr Thakur’s.”

  “Right,” said David, regretting starting the conversation. “When are you fetching her from the docks?”

  “Tonight. Very late tonight. Best to transport her under the cover of darkness. Sorting out the official permit to keep an exotic animal on the premises is proving tricky.”

  David did not argue. He knew it was pointless. Once Max’s mind was made up about fun to be had, that was that. The sensible young man’s logical head was spinning at the thought of the beast roaming around the theatre. He went off to the housekeeper’s office for some peace and quiet.

  “Sit down, David,” Mrs Bowles suggested. “You seem terribly glum this morning?”

  He gave her a feeble smile, then sank back into his world-weary countenance.

  “Max is up to his usual over-the-top yuletide antics, Mrs Bowles.”

  “That’s to be expected, lad,” chuckled the cook.

  “Hmm. There’s another thing. Thomas went missing yesterday evening in St. Giles. I’ve only just been told. He’s nowhere to be seen.”

  David was worried about Thomas. Like him, Thomas had enjoyed a sheltered upbringing and the ragamuffins on the wrong side of town would easily eat him alive. What if he has been robbed? Or maybe he had his drink spiked and he frittered away Max’s money on a night of hedonistic lust? On top of those concerns, he felt bleak at the thought of losing Suzanna./

  “Thomas is not your concern, David. He’s a grown man who can look after himself.”

  “I suppose so. May I please have a cup of tea and once of your legendary mince pies, Mrs Bowles? That’ll put a smile on my face.”

  “Of course you may. Let me get them for you, poppet. You sit and have a breather. This place at Christmas is enough to drive anyone round the bend.”

  David wolfed down the pie, but he still felt maudlin.

  *

  To David’s relief, Thomas arrived late in the afternoon, accompanied by Sergeant Payne and an unusual bevy of noisy, scantily clad women.

  “Welcome! Welcome!” cried Max when he saw the new arrivals.

  “We have an injured soldier with us,” said Payne. “Some thugs put the boot into him. He looks a mess, but he’ll survive.”

  “Thomas,” cried Max when he saw the battered young man and rushed to his side. “I am so sorry for sending you to such a dangerous place. I will never be able to erase this from my mind.”

  “You would have made a terrible general, Max,” commented the army man. “Gotta get used to the rough and tumble of battle.”

  “I am fine, Max. I am,” Thomas whimpered as he took a deep breath to continue. “I lost all your money. I asked for directions, and the gits sent me down an alleyway. I was like a sitting duck. They clobbered me all over, then took every penny that you gave me.”

  “Your life is more important to me than the money, Thomas. Never forget that.”

  “I do have quite a tale to tell now, though!” the aide added excitedly with a pained grin as he cracked his freshly scabbed lips open once more.

  “Let’s get him upstairs, Sid.”

  David reached the kitchen in time to see Max and Sergeant Payne manhandling the wounded assistant up the steps. He rushed to his friend’s side and relieved his exhausted father.

  “Let’s take him to his barracks,” said Payne. “He must return to active duty as quickly as possible.”

  “I’m just a bit stiff,” countered Thomas not finding the military play-acting funny in the slightest. “When it wears off, I’ll be fine.”

  “You are a fine, private. I’ll make sure you get a mention in dispatches for your bravery.”

  Thomas looked baffled by Sid’s response. David decided to take charge of the situation.

  “Let’s get you into a bath of hot water with some Epsom salts in it. You can soak your muscles. I am sure that it will help. You seem more bruised than grazed.”

  He looked at the female rabble that had descended on the kitchen.

  “Who are all these ladies?” he asked Thomas.

  “I was lucky they saved me. A girl called Lily found me after I was beaten up.”

  “Where are they from?”

  “Sally’s Bar,” he answered. “And I promised them a part in the show because they saved my life.”

  “Of course, of course, what a wonderful idea, Thomas. I would have done precisely the same thing,” roared the eavesdropping Max.

  “What a pleasure to have you all here. Thank you for taking such good care of Mr Bartlett,” gushed the old man. “Please, make yourselves at home and enjoy our hospitality.”

  David’s frustration level soared. He pulled Max to one side.

  “Where are they going to sleep, Father? We already have enough waifs and strays staying with us. They must return to St. Giles until the show. They have homes and they must return to them.”

  “Good grief, no! They must practice, David. And they need measuring for costumes. And then there are the fittings. I cannot have the seamstresses running back and forth to St. Giles. What if something happens to them? I almost sent poor old Thomas to his death, and I will not put my ladies in danger.”

  “Two dressing rooms are standing empty next to Monique’s suite, and we have some cots in the basement,” Max explained. “There is plenty of space. Sergeant Payne will sleep in the courtyard stable and keep an eye on Sundatara.”

  “Papa, we cannot fit another soul under this roof. Why you feel that you have to accommodate them?”

  Max tutted in annoyance.

  “David, imagine they took that ‘I’m alright Jack’ attitude with Thomas. He would be lying in a gutter dying in a slum. You need to show these people a little gratitude and have some humility and compassion. I expect better from you, I really do. This selfish streak of yours is most unbecoming.”

  David did not answer him back. It was on the tip of his tongue to chastise Max for sending Thomas into the horrid slum in the first place. However, he guessed that his father felt terrible enough already without an ear bashing from him, and so he let the matter rest.

  “Look at them, David. Those women have nobody else but each other. Sergeant Payne was a man who bravely joined the army to fight for our queen and country. They might seem a little odd, but they are still a family, David, and you know how I love families.”

  *

  It was past midnight when Sergeant Payne set out for the docks. His military mind had assembled a small platoon of soldiers to accompany him on the mission. Mr Thakur and his sons, a few stagehands and Max made up the small contingent. They had no experience in battle, but Sergeant Payne’s forces background told him that under his skilled leadership, they would rise to the occasion.

  “The most important thing is that Sundatara trusts us,” explained Sid. “I had to travel into the city to buy these,” he said, opening a large sack that contained lovely ripe clementines. “They cost me an arm and a leg, but ellies love ‘em—so she is going to love me too.”

  As the posse reached the dark harbour, Max warned them that they only had a few hours before the dockyard became busy again and they were to be swift. Mr Thakur paced up the gangplank and found a watchman who was only too happy to release the terrifying creature into the Indian’s care. Just a few pounds was all it took to buy the guard’s silence. Mr Tha
kur beckoned the beast out of the ship’s hold. All the men took a step back when they saw the huge elephant looming towards them. She was more of a mountain than a beast. Still, Sergeant Payne and Mr Thakur seemed fearless in her presence. Sid gazed at Sundatara with adoration in his eyes and Sundatara responded by putting her inquisitive trunk into the sack and helping herself to a juicy clementine. Max did not understand why Sid had brought so few men with him, because there would be no way they would be able to control the mighty Sundatara if they offended her. He hoped she remained placid.

  In the light of a full moon, Max stared at the beautiful majestic animal, delighting in her beautiful eyes with their lush long lashes. She was born to be a superstar. Sundatara looked at Max and but quickly lost interest when Sergeant Payne, increasingly keen to get moving, seduced her with another delicious clementine. He took a few steps back, then waved another tempting fruit in the air, steering her slowly towards the dark streets that led to The Songbird. The massive beast’s colossal feet softly padded down the winding lanes without making a sound.

  Thirty minutes later, they found themselves one street away from the theatre. Sergeant Payne was about to congratulate himself on the successful mission when he saw a figure standing beside an alley. Sundatara and the platoon stopped in their tracks. The elephant began to flap her ears wildly, a sure sign that she did not appreciate a stranger standing in her path.

  “Don’t do anything rash,” ordered Sergeant Payne through gritted teeth. “Keep calm. Sundatara is very sensitive. One sniff of panic will cause her to rampage through the streets.”

  Max’s eyes grew big and wide. He had not anticipated wild rampages when they were planning the mission. He thought the beast would be placid and easily controlled with an expert handler like Sid. That was turning out not to be the case. The concerned animal’s ears were turning into a blur they were moving so fast.

  “It’s a copper,” hissed Sid.

  The officer was walking toward them, determination in every step he took.

  “Let me deal with this. Stay back,” whispered Max.

  “Alright, Max, but move slowly and speak softly. We don’t know what to expect from the man—or Sundatara.”

  Sergeant Payne lectured his friend as if he were about to begin negotiations with an enraged cannibal in the heart of Africa, not a lone London bobby on his beat.

  Max ambled forward to meet the policeman and shook his hand.

  “Hello, Max! Nice night for a stroll, I see,” said Constable Wilkin, looking at the strange sight before him.

  “Hello there, officer. Season’s greetings to you!” he replied in a friendly whisper.

  “Well, I must say, I wasn’t expecting to be starting my beat like this.”

  —Meaning?” said Max, playing dumb.

  “Meaning what on earth are you doing processing through the streets with an elephant, Max?”

  “Ah, this old girl is going to be a part of my yuletide show on Christmas Day,” Max explained.

  “The law regarding horse and carts is explicit about not harming people or property—but this—” Wilkins paused to collect his thoughts. “—I suppose the same rules apply. Although if I am not mistaken, an elephant is an exotic animal that belongs in a circus or zoo with a trained handler, not a side street with you, Max. Do you have a permit?”

  “Constable, I have no other way of transporting this beautiful lady, and I take full responsibility for any damage she may cause en route. As you can see, she is wonderfully placid. And, we’re nearly home now.”

  As he said that, Max hoped Sid Payne still had enough clementines to hand, else they were going to be in deep trouble. The theatre owner thought it was time for a little white lie to get their operation swiftly underway once more.

  “The permit papers are in hand, I promise, officer. Things have slowed down a bit with people winding down for the festive holiday.”

  “Since I can’t recall the specifics of a law pertaining to elephants in transit, Sir, I suggest you get her off the streets as soon as possible.”

  “Of course, constable!” Max reassured. “Err, why not bring the family over on Christmas Day? Your children will love it to see Sundatara perform before their very eyes,” suggested Max hopefully.

  Constable Wilkins tutted and shook his head disparagingly.

  “I do not take bribes, Mr Liebowitz.”

  “But, it’s not a bribe, constable. We are inviting widows and orphans too. And, this year, the Christmas Day performance is completely free. My way of saying thanks to the community for all their support throughout the year. You in particular have done a marvellous job of keeping pickpockets away from our entrance.”

  “Well, that’s different then, I suppose,” said the policeman solemnly. “I will ask the missus and the kids if they want to go.”

  “Excellent! I do hope you can all make it,” said Max, patting the officer firmly on the shoulder. “Let’s move along, lads, shall we?” the old man urged.

  “Yes,” agreed Sergeant Payne. He moved his mouth close to Max’s ear. “Sundatara is becoming grumpy. I am running out of clementines and her philosophy in life is, ‘no food, no friendship’. We must get her stabled while I still have a few treats left.”

  “Good night, officer,” said Max, as he nervously beckoned the party to follow him back to the theatre.

  The band of men and the massive elephant marched into The Songbird’s courtyard, the immense beast barely fitting through the archway usually reserved for carriages and delivery carts. Max was relieved to note that Sundatara soon settled in her new home and gleefully began stripping the bark off her first Christmas tree.

  “I am sure there are no pine trees in India, but she’s tucking into that spruce with gusto,” Max cheered, delighted to see the animal happy.

  Mr Thakur’s boys gave the elephant’s trunk a light stroke with their hands and wished her goodnight as their father made sure the heavy wooden doors to the courtyard were firmly shut. He didn’t fancy the prospect of the beast breaking loose and having to explain to her rightful owners why he had lost her.

  As things finally settled down, Max invited Sid to share a nightcap with him in his sitting room.

  “I believe that the campaign was successful,” said Payne importantly.

  “Of course, it was! Congratulations are in order, old friend,” said Max, raising his glass to the military man. “Your leadership was commendable.”

  “Thank you, Sir. Tonight’s mission was highly successful—we suffered no casualties and achieved our objective.”

  Max found Sid’s quirky turn of phrase amusing. The two friends were no longer young men. The excitement of the night had tired them both, and the brandy had numbed their exhausted minds. Within minutes of settling in their plush armchairs, Max was in a trance, staring into the fire on the edge of sleep. Sergeant Payne’s eyes were already closed, and he was snoring softly, glass at a precarious angle in his hand.

  *

  The first noise sounded like a quick roll of thunder. Initially, Max ignored it until he remembered the moonlit sky during their procession earlier. Suddenly, there was an almighty explosion that rocked the building. Sergeant Payne jumped to attention.

  “Cannon fire!” he roared.

  Max looked on, mystified. The former soldier's eyes darted around the room looking for a rifle. Thankfully, Max did not have one or, in the confusion, it might have caused a greater calamity. Sergeant Payne settled for a thick iron poker, and then in his addled mind loaded it in anticipation of a confrontation. With his strange behaviour and outbursts, Max was beginning to wonder if his dear friend was suffering from shellshock or some other mental infirmity. The next observation confirmed Max’s suspicions. Sid ordered an imaginary army into an attacking formation.

  “All men to their battle stations! Follow me, boys!”

  Sergeant Payne took to the stairs at a rapid pace, heading toward the sound of the cannon fire with only a nervous Max following him. By the time they reac
hed the top floor, Lee Ting-Chong was already standing in the corridor, wearing his pure-white long johns.

  “Me solly”! Me so solly, Mr Max!” he cried.

  “What the hell is going on here?” demanded Sergeant Payne, “You have been surrounded. Give up your weapons. Surrender at once!”

  Payne was holding the poker and aiming it at Lee as he would a standard-issue army rifle.

  “Where is the general?” demanded the Sergeant.

  “No general! No war!” stammered Lee.

  Sergeant Payne kept the poker aimed at the Chinaman’s head.

  “No shoot me. I will ‘splain bomb,” begged Lee.

  In a moment of brilliance, Lee bent over and took off his long Johns. He held them in the air and waved them as if he were surrendering.

  “You cannot trick me, sonny Jim,” snarled Sid. “I won’t lower this weapon until you convince me there is no bomb.”

  Menacingly, Sid raised the poker above his head, a prime position to cleave his opponent’s skull with a single blow. Lee was cowering, covering his manhood with bunched up long-johns. A mob of little Chinese children were behind him, laughing at his naked derrière. Other people who had made the theatre their impromptu home crowded onto the landing to see what all the ruckus was about.

  Max, in desperation, tried to resolve the situation before it got any worse.

  “Stand down, Sergeant!” he ordered in a stern voice. “The enemy has surrendered.”

  Sergeant Payne lowered his weapon. Lee was hysterical, having almost lost his life to a lunatic aiming a metal poker at his head.

  “No bomb, Max. Granny Chong light match for cigarette. Granny drop match. Match light firework fuse. Me throw firework high up, out of window. Big bang in sky, not bang building! We safe!” said Lee.

  “Well, it seems there is no damage done,” said Max in relief, surprised at how well he reacted to Lee’s tale.

  Max and Sid rushed to the window and looked out. All they could see were tiny pieces of paper fluttering high up in the air, now slowly sinking to the ground.

  David heard the blast in his flat across the road from The Songbird. He bolted from his bed and ran to the window and yanked open the curtains. He could see a light way up in Lee’s attic room, and then saw his father and Sergeant Payne staring through the window in awe. The young man watched as copious quantities of ash fell like grey snow, covering everything in its path. What if the rest of the fireworks go off!