Great Animal Escapade

by Jane Kerr

  There was a long silence, then cautiously, Hetty loosened her arm from around Maharajah’s trunk. She put out her hand but the distance between them was still too wide. ‘I . . . I can’t.’

  ‘Yes, you can.’ Danny wriggled along the board and leant out even further. Below him, the water swirled around the bridge columns. His heart thudded. ‘Try again. Come on!’

  This time, their fingertips touched and held. Slowly, Danny slid his palm across Hetty’s, inch by inch, until finally, his fingers locked around her wrist. He tested the grip then pulled. With a deep groan, Hetty slid up, past Maharajah and across the boards.

  Quickly, Danny crouched down beside her. ‘Are you hurt?’

  ‘I’m fine. My wrist’s a little sore. That’s all.’ She flexed her hand. ‘See! Perfectly fine.’ Her glance flicked past him and he saw her eyes widen. ‘But Danny . . . look!’

  He spun round. Once Hetty had been pulled free, Danny had expected Maharajah to clamber to his feet easily. But he hadn’t – because he couldn’t. One of his tusks was impaled in the bridge. However much he tried, he couldn’t seem to free himself.

  Slipping the ankus from his belt, Danny raised the cane and brought it down as hard as he could. The wood ripped. He did it again and again, and the crack widened. Then Danny was on his knees, pulling at the timber with his fingers. Splinters dug into his skin but he ignored them. And finally, the board pulled free.

  Jerkily, Maharajah climbed upright. The bridge swayed and groaned, and this time none of them bothered being careful. Pelting across the boards, they ran back to the safety of solid ground. Behind them, the rest of the bridge collapsed into the swirling water.

  ‘Oh my heavens!’ Hetty panted, staring at the chaos.

  Danny let out an unsteady breath and smoothed a hand along Maharajah’s face. But when he took his fingers away, they were red. Blood was dripping from the base of Maharajah’s left tusk.

  Chapter Nineteen

  ‘Hetty, there’s some iodine in the keeper’s cupboard. Top shelf. Fetch it, please.’

  ‘Crimple, I need some water. And rags. But make sure they’re clean.’

  ‘And someone fetch a saw. Now!’

  Danny threw out the commands quickly, and for once the words came easily and fluently. He didn’t stumble at all. Perhaps that was the reason no one argued. Or maybe it was because his fear was obvious. If they didn’t treat the wound properly then the chance of infection was high. And with the chance of infection came the possibility of death.

  He and Hetty had brought Maharajah to the elephant house immediately after discovering the bleeding tusk. It had seemed the best place to work out what to do. Crimple had followed shortly afterwards, and this time Danny was grateful to see him. Another pair of hands might prove useful.

  Lifting one of the lanterns from a hook on the wall, Danny turned to face Maharajah and drew the ankus from his belt. His whistle was a soft hiss. Obediently Maharajah lowered his heavy frame to the floor then rolled on to his side like a cat waiting to be stroked.

  In this position, the broken tusk faced upwards. Danny knelt to take a closer look.

  The sight stopped his breath.

  The top half of the tusk was sliced almost clean through. Cracks ran down the remaining length, from the tip close to the root. And around the base, blood leaked from the circle of skin.

  With sudden, vivid clarity, Danny remembered the last time Maharajah had been injured. Now the same sick feeling ballooned in his stomach. But this time, there was one important difference. Because this time, the injury was his fault. No one else’s. He had made this happen, just as surely as if he’d used a knife.

  Why had he forced Maharajah to continue over the bridge? Why hadn’t he trusted him enough to know something was wrong – that there was a good reason for Maharajah to hesitate? And an even better reason to stop?

  ‘Do you think he’s in pain?’ Hetty had moved to stand by his shoulder. Her voice was a low whisper in the dark.

  ‘I don’t know.’ Danny cleared the roughness from his throat. ‘Maybe. Yes.’

  He closed his eyes and desperately tried to remember all that he’d learnt over the last few weeks. Mr Saddleworth had taught him so much but now, when the information was so vital, he struggled to recall any of it.

  Gradually, pieces filtered through. An elephant’s tusk was similar to a human tooth, Mr Saddleworth had said. The root was anchored deep within the skull, leaving about two thirds still visible – the tusk. Inside, near the root, there was a knot of blood and nerves that kept the tusk healthy and growing. If the cracks had reached that tissue, then Maharajah would be hurting. And worse still, there would be a strong chance of infection.

  Danny’s eyelids flew open. His unease heightened. Normally, it would be Mr Saddleworth standing here, making the decisions. But Hetty’s father wouldn’t be back for at least another week and by then it would be too late. Besides, he’d trusted Maharajah into Danny’s care. Maharajah was his responsibility. No one else’s. His heart slammed against his ribs.

  ‘We need to get rid of the broken tusk first. Saw it off. Then clean around the root.’

  Hetty examined his face. ‘Who’s going to—’

  ‘I’ll do it,’ Danny said quickly. He tried to force as much confidence into his voice as he could. But inside, he trembled.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then how can I help?’

  ‘Keep him calm. And hum. He . . . he likes that.’ Turning his head, Danny raised his voice. ‘Crimple, did you find a saw?’

  ‘Here, lad.’ The keeper handed him a small, jagged-edged blade, then patted him on the shoulder. It was a strangely comforting gesture from a man who had never been much of a friend. Danny wrapped his fingers around the handle and tested the weight.

  ‘It’ll do,’ he said.

  Carefully, he shuffled closer to Maharajah’s side and lowered the blade. It sat just below the splinter line. There was no doubt that the broken tusk needed to be cut away, but he had to make sure not to slice through the cavity of blood and nerves. If he cut too low, there was a strong chance of that happening. Too high, and the tusk would continue to fracture.

  In his head, Danny was certain he’d picked the right spot. But it seemed that knowing it was entirely different from believing it. Sweat dotted his forehead and he had to wipe it away with the back of his hand.

  ‘Crimple, will you help hold his head? In case . . . in case . . .’ He didn’t finish the sentence but Crimple knelt down anyway.

  The first drag of the blade was the worst. The cut released a cloud of white powder that rose into the air before settling on Danny’s fingers. He managed a few more strokes, before stopping.

  Hetty stopped humming and hooked a hand around his arm. ‘Danny, why don’t you let Crimple do the rest? It might be easier.’

  ‘No!’ Furiously, Danny shook his head, tightening his grip just in case someone thought to pull the blade away. ‘No. This is my fault.’ He blinked his eyes against the sudden sting. ‘I have to finish it . . .’

  He angled the saw again, pulling it back until the teeth bit into the tusk. Then he pushed forward. Once again, a metallic whine grated through the air.

  The blade was already more than halfway through to the other side. With a few more tugs, the broken tusk fell to the floor.

  ‘Pass me the cloths and the water.’

  Hetty gave him the bowl of rags and, carefully, Danny wiped around the base of the tusk. He was probably much gentler than he needed to be, but it made him feel better to take his time.

  Grabbing the bottle, Danny splashed some iodine into the bowl and mixed it with a little water. The harsh smell pricked his nose. He dipped a dry cloth into the solution and began wiping around the blunt tusk. And every moment, Mr Saddleworth’s instructions raced through his head.

  Make certain there is no infection.

  At last Danny stood back. The skin was clean and there was no sign of fresh blood. />
  ‘It’s done,’ he said.

  The sawn-off tusk lay abandoned in the straw. Crimple knelt to pick it up. It was almost as long as his arm. ‘There’s people that would pay good money for this. Those that want ivory trinkets. Jewellery and buttons and stuff. I reckon we should sell it. We’d make a fortune.’

  ‘No!’ The idea made Danny’s stomach heave. He wasn’t stupid. He knew there were poachers who killed elephants for their ivory, hacking through skulls to rip out tusks from their roots. But he wasn’t like those people. Cruel and greedy and heartless. Maharajah was his friend. What sort of person would he be to make money out of this? ‘No. Give that to me!’

  He tore the tusk from Crimple’s hands and threw it so far into the enclosure that he could no longer see it. When he turned back, Maharajah was struggling upright. They stared at each other. And Danny’s heart stuttered.

  It was strange to see this beautiful, powerful creature with a lopsided tilt to his face. Like a stately old man smiling through broken teeth.

  Abruptly the gold eyes blinked and Maharajah’s trunk hooked around Danny’s waist, dragging him close. He lay against the rough skin and turned his face into the warmth.

  ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.’ He couldn’t stop saying it. It was though with every repetition, the words chipped away at the guilt. Mr Saddleworth had trusted him. He had trusted him to take care of Maharajah. And he had trusted him to be a good friend to Hetty. He had failed on both counts.

  Somewhere behind him, Danny was dimly aware of a door opening. And then he was yanked back. Tom Dalton’s face pushed into his. They were so close their breath mingled.

  ‘So this is where you’re hiding!’

  ‘I’m not . . . hiding.’

  ‘No, of course you aren’t! You just ran off and left everyone to clear up your mess.’ Tom curled his lip. ‘Who do you think you are? You march around Belle Vue like you’re someone important but people could’ve died today. And it would have been your fault.’ He shoved his palm into the centre of Danny’s chest and pushed. Then pushed again. ‘Your fault!’

  ‘Don’t touch me.’ Pulling away, Danny rolled his hands into fists. Hostility cracked between them like a whip.

  ‘I don’t know why I shouldn’t. Everythin’s gone wrong since you came. First you let a lioness loose around Manchester. Now Threlfall’s kickin’ off again – tryin’ to close Belle Vue down! We could all lose our jobs! And tonight, this happens. You don’t care about anythin’ but yourself.’

  The accusation hit Danny square in the stomach, the heavy weight of it seemed to spread into every corner.

  But Tom still wasn’t finished. ‘I don’t know why the Jamesons even brought you here. You’re nothin’ special. You’re no better than where you came from. The slums of Edinburgh, wasn’t it? Pickin’ pockets and stealin’ purses? Well, perhaps you should go back there! Because no one wants you!’

  Later, Danny realized he must have thrown the first punch. Because he heard the solid thud of flesh on flesh – and the painful vibration as contact was made. Then he saw Tom clutching the side of his face.

  ‘You little runt!’ Tom raised his fist, and Danny had no time to steel himself. The jab hit his nose with a crunch. He let the pain settle for a moment before swinging back. This wasn’t over yet.

  But the truth was neither of them was particularly good at fighting, missing far more than they hit. It didn’t seem to matter. They were both stirred up and angry, like clockwork toys that had been wound up too tight and let go.

  Danny’s hair was stuck to his forehead. And blood and snot dripped from his nose. He wiped the trail away with the back of his hand then raised his fists to start again.

  ‘Stop! Please!’ Hetty had managed to squeeze between them, her arms outstretched and palms raised flat. The interruption was almost a relief. ‘Stop it. How can you both be so stupid? This isn’t going to help!’

  Danny didn’t answer. His chest heaved with the effort of drawing in air. A sudden cramp bent him double so that he had to rest his hands on his knees to stop himself from falling over. His head hung low. And somewhere in the background he heard the light tread of footsteps.

  ‘Danny, listen to me.’ Gently, Hetty laid a palm against his shoulder. ‘Tom didn’t mean what he said. I know he didn’t. But you shouldn’t have started a fight. What on earth were you thinking?’

  Slowly, Danny pulled himself upright until Hetty was forced to step back, and away. His heart beat painfully in his chest. ‘You’d take his side, over me?’

  ‘Of course not. I just meant—’

  ‘And what he said . . . about where I came from.’ Speech was getting difficult. ‘How did he . . . how did he know all that?’

  But Hetty didn’t need to answer; her eyes had filled with guilt. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. Forget I ever wanted your help. Forget everything. You’re no friend of mine. Just get out!’ He waved his hand around the room. ‘Get out. Get out all of you!’

  Chapter Twenty

  Charles Larkin was sitting in the hotel reception reading a newspaper when Danny sneaked inside. At first sight he appeared engrossed in the pages but Danny noticed that every time the front door opened, Larkin lifted his head to look.

  It was the reason why Danny had slipped, unobserved, through the side entrance. He wanted to watch without being seen, because he still wasn’t quite sure what he was doing here. Or what he was going to say.

  He’d spent the night in the elephant house, curled up beside Maharajah’s warm body. Not that he’d had much sleep. His body ached from the fight, and bruises had started to bloom across his skin. But even if there had been no pain, guilt would have stopped him from sleeping.

  This was his fault. He’d made a mistake. And now he’d made everything worse by pushing Hetty away. He’d regretted the angry words almost from the moment they’d left his mouth. But by then, everyone had gone.

  At least Maharajah appeared unharmed. He’d slept as peacefully as any baby, breathing in slow even breaths with no sign of any pain or discomfort. At dawn, Danny had cleaned the skin around the broken tusk for the third time, dabbing the mix of water and iodine along the root. And by the time he’d finished, one of the elephant keepers had arrived for the day shift.

  Reluctantly, Danny had said goodbye, but only because there was nothing left for him to do. Maharajah had seemed perfectly content. And Danny had known he needed to go home. The Jamesons must be wondering where he was – although no doubt Crimple had already told them the full, shameful story.

  But when Danny finally walked out of the elephant enclosure, he hadn’t taken the right fork towards Belle Vue House. Instead, he’d followed the opposite path towards the Longsight entrance. And then – expressly against Mr Jameson’s orders – he’d sneaked out of the park alone.

  Larkin’s hotel was just a short distance away, along Redgate Lane, and it had been easy enough to slip through the side door. But now that he was here, Danny wasn’t sure what to do.

  He lifted his head and looked at the man who claimed to be his father. If anything, Larkin was even more finely dressed today. His boots were polished to a glossy sheen, and he wore gold cufflinks in the sleeves of his crisp white shirt.

  He looked like a man who didn’t work. But more importantly, he looked like a man who didn’t need to. Danny wouldn’t have come otherwise. Past experience had taught him not to trust anyone who looked like they needed money. They were usually willing to do anything to get it.

  For a long time, Danny did nothing but watch – and Larkin continued to inspect each new arrival. Danny wondered how long it would take before he gave up. And then he wondered how long it would be before he did too. And after a while, he was surprised to find his mouth was dry and his palms were damp.

  Swallowing, he wiped his hands down the front of his jacket. Perhaps the movement alerted Larkin because he turned abruptly. Their eyes locked.

  ‘You came.’ Larkin lif
ted out of the chair. ‘I wasn’t sure if you would. It’s been five days.’

  Danny said nothing but he raised his chin to show he was listening. Hesitantly, Larkin walked nearer, his eyes flicking over Danny’s face and clothes. ‘You look as though you’ve had a difficult night.’

  Danny nodded again, but he still didn’t say anything. He’d no intention of explaining all that had happened over the last few hours. His feelings were already far too confused. But, to his relief, Larkin didn’t ask.

  ‘So, have you eaten? Maybe we could talk over breakfast?’

  The dining room opened off the hotel’s reception hall. Larkin pulled the door ajar and waved Danny inside. They settled at a table set with silver cutlery. A vase of yellow roses stood in the centre. And it occurred to Danny that, despite the fine surroundings, Larkin didn’t seem to care that his dining companion was rumpled, dirty and had obviously been in a fight. It was one mark in his favour.

  A waitress brought them a pot of tea and some toast, then another fetched a plate of eggs and some boiled ham. Danny’s mouth watered. He hadn’t eaten since yesterday afternoon, and the smell alone was enough to set his stomach rumbling.

  He gulped down the food with embarrassing haste. And it was only when he’d finished that he realized Larkin’s breakfast remained untouched, and that, instead of eating, he must have been watching the entire time.

  ‘So, I assume you want to know the whole story.’

  Carefully, Danny placed the knife and fork on his empty plate, and then he nodded.

  ‘Very well.’ Larkin leant forward and tugged at his shirt sleeves. ‘My name is Charles Edward Larkin. My family comes from Stirling. I’m the youngest of three brothers. My father made his money from woollen mills. I suppose most people would probably say we’re wealthy.’

  Deliberately, Danny kept his face blank. At the next table, a young couple settled into their chairs. Their excited chatter filled a long pause.

  ‘It was always expected that I would go into the family business, get married, raise children. But I was young and enjoyed my freedom a little too much to settle down. Then one day I met your mother. She was at the market. I couldn’t take my eyes from her. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Then or since.’