Great Animal Escapade

by Jane Kerr

  ‘No. I don’t imagine it did.’

  Abruptly, Mrs Jameson pushed away from her husband’s chest. Her face was still pale and she blinked rapidly, but when she spoke, her voice was firm. ‘Well, Mr Larkin. I think you’d better stay to dinner. We’re having chicken.’

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Dinner was a disaster – much like an accident that everyone can see is about to happen, yet no one knows how to stop.

  Although it started well enough. The best dinner service had been laid out on the dining room table; Danny recognized the pattern of pink roses and gold swirls. And the kitchen maid had fetched the Jamesons’ wedding crystal from the dresser. She’d even made an apple tart, with thick cream custard, to follow the roasted chicken and buttered potatoes.

  But the elegant china did nothing to make up for the awkward tension as they settled at the table. And when Mr Jameson began sharpening the knife to carve the meat, it seemed to Danny that the noise was particularly loud.

  ‘So where are you from, Mr Larkin?’ Mrs Jameson asked politely. Her cheeks had almost recovered their colour. ‘Perhaps you can tell us a little about yourself?’

  ‘From the Stirling area of Scotland, ma’am. My father was Sir Edward Larkin, of Melrose Hall.’

  The Jamesons exchanged a look that was difficult to decipher, and Danny wished he knew what they were thinking. But neither of them had said a great deal since Larkin’s announcement.

  ‘I see. And is that where you met Danny’s mother? At Melrose Hall?’

  ‘No, ma’am. I met her at the fruit market in Stirling. She was buying oranges. We married three months later, even though my family didn’t approve. Sadly, in the end, my parents managed to drive us apart. It was only after their deaths that I was able to begin searching for my wife.’ He paused and sipped his wine. ‘And of course, that search led me to my son. Edward.’

  The story was a much shorter version of the one that Larkin had told Danny. But maybe Mrs Jameson understood enough to fill in the gaps because she didn’t ask any more. In the silence, everyone ate their chicken. Then Mr Jameson put down his fork. ‘The boy’s name is Danny.’

  Larkin’s gaze flicked towards Danny and away again. ‘Now it is. But when he was born, he was christened Edward. I believe my wife named him after my father.’

  ‘Well, he’s Danny to us. And that’s all that matters.’

  ‘If you say so.’ Larkin inclined his head and stabbed at another piece of chicken.

  Scowling, Mr Jameson leant across the table. ‘Listen to me, Larkin. Don’t think you can come here and start taking over. For the last two months, we’ve looked after that boy. We’ve fed him, clothed him. Brought him into our house. Given him a home. A name!’

  Danny could feel a flush rising up his face. He wanted to be anywhere but in this room. He stopped pretending to eat and pushed back his chair.

  ‘Do you know how he was livin’ before?’ Mr Jameson had picked up the carving knife again. He was using it like a sword, jabbing the air as he made each point. ‘Do you? Well, I’ll tell you, shall I? He was stealin’. Anythin’ he could find to sell. Just so he could eat. And have you seen his scars?’

  Leaning across the table, he tugged at Danny’s sleeve with his free hand. The crude letters ‘FS’ were clearly visible. ‘There – that should tell you what his life was like. Not pretty, is it?’

  With more care than was necessary, Larkin put down his cutlery, and wiped his mouth with the napkin. ‘I came to Manchester as soon as I could. As soon as I knew I had a son. And as soon as I heard he was here at Belle Vue.’

  ‘Well that wasn’t soon enough, was it?’

  ‘Jamie, please! This is not the time, or the place, for this discussion!’ Mrs Jameson’s face was as pale as pearl, and she’d curled her fingers into fists on her lap.

  Larkin must have noticed her distress, because his voice gentled. ‘It’s quite all right, Mrs Jameson. I understand that this is a difficult situation for us all. But with your permission, I’d like to stay at Belle Vue a little longer and get to know my son. I hope you have no objection?’

  Mrs Jameson took a breath. ‘Of course you must get to know each other. If you’re Danny’s father then you have every right.’

  ‘But that’s the point, isn’t it? How do we know you are who you say?’ Mr Jameson had still not put down the knife. ‘We only have your word for it. You might be a con man . . . A swindler. A thief. You could be anyone!’

  Deliberately, Larkin pushed back his chair and rose to his feet. ‘I think I’d better leave now, Mr Jameson. Before we both say something we regret. Mrs Jameson, thank you for the dinner. It was most kind.’

  In a few swift strides, he was out of the door. Hastily, Danny scrambled to his feet. ‘I’ll go and say goodbye.’

  Mr Jameson opened his mouth as if to argue, but his wife grabbed his hand first, and silenced him with a look.

  ‘Very well, Danny, go if you wish . . .’ She paused. ‘But please come back . . . won’t you?’

  Larkin was shrugging into his coat when Danny caught up with him in the hall. He flicked an impatient glance in the direction of the dining room. ‘That could have gone better. They’re not exactly reasonable people. He practically accused me of lying.’

  ‘They’re just upset. It’s a shock. I–I should have told them earlier.’ Danny was surprised by the strength of his need to defend the Jamesons.

  ‘Yes. I suppose so.’ Distractedly, Larkin fastened the last of his coat buttons then snatched up his hat. ‘Listen, Danny. I want to stay in Manchester and get to know you better. But if it’s going to cause trouble, maybe it’s best if I didn’t.’

  ‘No! Don’t go.’ The reply was instinctive. For most of his life Danny had only ever travelled in one direction because he’d never had any other choice. But now his path had led quite unexpectedly to a crossroads, and there was more than one road. He had the strongest desire to see where the other routes might lead. ‘Please. I want you to stay.’

  ‘Are you certain?’

  Heart thumping, Danny nodded.

  Larkin smiled. ‘Then meet me tomorrow, at the elephant house. Let’s make it early. Eight o’clock. We can talk again then.’

  Chapter Twenty-five

  There were no crowds clustering around the elephant house at eight o’clock the next morning. It was too early for visitors, and Danny was glad of the quiet.

  He’d arrived well before the arranged meeting time so he could feed and clean Maharajah but mostly so he could check the broken tusk once again. It was a relief to find that the injury was still free from infection.

  ‘Good morning!’ The shout filtered into the enclosure from the outdoor paddock. ‘Are you in there?’

  Danny set down the bowl of cleaning cloths and went outside. Larkin stood by the gate, as elegantly dressed as ever. Today, he wore a top hat of shiny silk and a shirt with a high starched collar and long cuffs. A silver-headed walking stick swung from one gloved hand.

  Once again, Danny was struck by the differences between them. It was still astonishing to him that this man could be his father. And yet, for some reason, it didn’t seem quite so unlikely as it once had.

  Stepping through the mud, Danny walked across the paddock to unlock the gate. And, as he lifted the latch, it occurred to him that Larkin had not yet met Maharajah. So instead of slipping outside, he let the gate swing open. ‘Would you like to come in? I could introduce you to Maharajah.’

  ‘I’d be honoured.’ Larkin tucked his hat beneath his arm and brushed back the curl from his forehead. ‘If you’d care to show me.’

  Inside, Maharajah was chewing through a batch of sugar cane, using his trunk to grab the sticks and curl them up to his mouth. The canes crunched noisily between his teeth. Slowly, Larkin circled the pen, not seeming to care about the dirt and straw muddying his polished boots.

  ‘He’s big. Even bigger than I imagined.’

  ‘Yes. But he’s gentle.’ Danny rubbed his palm along Mahara
jah’s side, knowing exactly which spot would bring the most comfort. Almost immediately, a throaty rumble vibrated through skin and bone and muscle. Although perhaps, Danny thought, it wasn’t a sound so much as a feeling.

  ‘You’re good with him.’

  Danny felt a swell of pride. He was always at his most confident around Maharajah.

  ‘Does he understand you?’

  ‘Yes. Everything. Sandev always said elephants are the cleverest of all the animals.’

  Larkin stopped circling and raised his eyebrows. ‘Sandev?’

  ‘He used to be Maharajah’s keeper before Maharajah came to Belle Vue. Sandev was the one who taught me. In India, they called him a mahout. Someone who trains elephants.’ Danny picked up the ankus that he’d propped against one wall. They had done this many times before, but he’d never got over the wonder of it. ‘Look. I’ll show you.’

  Lifting the cane, he gave a sharp whistle. Obediently, Maharajah sank to the ground, his head resting low on his front legs. Danny pulled an apple from the jacket pocket where he kept a store of treats.

  He sat the fruit in his hand and held it out. Instinctively, Maharajah started towards it, but with one short signal, Danny told him to wait. They stared at each for almost a full minute. And then Danny whistled again. With one graceful movement, Maharajah reached out and snatched up the apple. He munched it noisily.

  And then – just as Danny had known he would – Maharajah turned the tables. He climbed to his feet, stretched out his trunk and grabbed the ankus from Danny’s hand. Lifting it out of reach, he waved it like a magician would wave a wand.

  Danny grinned – he knew exactly what was expected of him. He knelt, raising his arms up. And as soon as his knees touched the floor, Maharajah dropped the ankus into his outstretched palms.

  Larkin released a laugh, admiration clear on his face. It felt good. ‘How incredible! I’d never have believed it unless I’d seen it with my own eyes. It’s as though you can read each other’s minds.’

  ‘Yes. Sometimes . . .’ Danny hesitated. He’d never voiced the thought out loud for fear of sounding ridiculous. ‘Sometimes . . .’ he tried again. ‘I’m certain Maharajah knows exactly how I feel. And what I think. But . . .’ Danny trailed off. Larkin waited and said nothing. ‘But I let him down. I didn’t trust him . . . not like he trusted me.’

  ‘I don’t understand. Why would you think that?’ Larkin frowned.

  ‘There was an accident on the bridge . . . his tusk was broken . . . it was my fault. Maharajah stopped. He didn’t want to move further on, but I made him. If it hadn’t been for me—’

  ‘No. I’m certain that’s not true.’

  Danny blinked. ‘And it’s not the only reason. Everything is going wrong. Everything I do is wrong!’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Lightly, Larkin placed an arm around Danny’s shoulders. ‘Look if there’s something bothering you, tell me. I might be able to help.’

  Danny hesitated. He’d spent most of his life keeping himself apart. And even now there were only a handful of people he trusted. But in the last few days, this man had saved him from a gunman, tried to mend his friendship with Hetty, and taught him to skim stones on Belle Vue Lake. Talking was little enough to give him in return.

  And suddenly, all his worries poured out. From his first disastrous meeting with Snade and the other investors, to Victoria’s unexplained escape, and his accident at the firework factory. He even found himself revealing his suspicions about the padlock on Emerald’s cage. It was everything that he’d wanted to tell Mr Jameson – and hadn’t.

  Larkin didn’t say very much but he listened, in that intent way that a few people do, showing that he heard every word – and not only did he hear, he also understood.

  Finally, Danny took a breath.

  ‘And the shooting in the maze . . . when I first met you? Do you think that’s part of it?’

  ‘Yes. It has to be.’

  ‘And so you think someone is deliberately causing problems for Belle Vue?’

  ‘Yes.’ Now that Danny had laid out each detail, it seemed even more obvious.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I think someone wants Belle Vue to fail. I think they want it to fail badly. And I think they want me to get the blame. The accidents always seem to happen when I’m nearby. Or . . . or in place where I’ve just been.’

  Larkin’s eyes widened. He drew in a sharp breath, and his arm dropped from Danny’s shoulders. ‘So who do you think it is?’

  ‘It sounds ridiculous.’

  ‘Tell me anyway.’

  Danny swallowed. ‘I think it must be Reverend Threlfall. He’s the only one who wants Belle Vue to close . . . I just don’t have any proof.’

  Larkin’s grip tightened on his walking stick. Swinging it, he paced away for a few steps. And when he turned back, his expression was determined.

  ‘Look. I didn’t want to say anything before, but after what you’ve just told me maybe now is the right time.’ He dragged a hand across his jaw. ‘When I leave, I want you to come with me. We could travel. Anywhere you choose. Point to a place on a map, and that’s where we’ll go. Paris, Rome. Madrid. Further away if you’d like. It’ll just be you and me.’

  Stunned, Danny let his mouth drop loose. How many times had he wished for that? When he was scraping a living on the streets of Edinburgh, he would have done anything to escape. But it was different now. Now he had a home at Belle Vue. Didn’t he?

  ‘I have some savings. Although, not a great deal. My brothers run the family business, and most of the money’s tied up in that. But they give me an allowance so I’ve enough to get us started.’

  Danny stayed silent. And perhaps Larkin thought more persuasion was needed because he walked a little closer, his stick making pockmarks in the dirt.

  ‘Besides, what’s keeping you here? Jameson seems obsessed with his business. His wife always takes her husband’s side. Your friend, Hetty, is not even speaking to you. And as for her aunt . . . well, she obviously doesn’t approve of you at all.’ He stabbed the ground with his stick. ‘So, tell me: who is there to stop you from leaving?’

  Maharajah. It was the first name that came into Danny’s head. The only friend who wasn’t lined up against him. But then just as quickly, Danny remembered the accident on the bridge, and the bleeding, splintered tusk.

  Maybe Maharajah would be better off without him. Maybe they all would. Hetty, the Jamesons, Mr Saddleworth. Even Tom Dalton. And maybe when he was gone, all the disasters that had plagued Belle Vue would stop.

  ‘I have money.’ Danny spoke quickly. He was flinging himself off a high cliff not knowing if he would land safely. He felt a little sick. ‘Mr Jameson put it into the bank for me. And he said it was mine. To spend however I wanted.’

  ‘Did he?’ Larkin didn’t look as pleased as he might. His gloved hand opened and closed around his walking stick. ‘I see. That does make a difference. Maybe you might be better staying here after all.’

  Danny jerked. ‘Why?’

  ‘The Jamesons have done right by you, given you an inheritance. Perhaps, in time, they mean for you to take over Belle Vue. Compared to that, what can I offer you? The Larkin mill isn’t even mine to give.’

  ‘But . . . but you’re my father.’ It was the first time Danny had admitted the possibility, and he was certain he shocked both of them by saying it. Nervously, he cleared his throat and when his voice finally emerged, it was small and frayed and broken. ‘Aren’t you?’

  ‘Yes. Yes, I am.’ Larkin’s mouth curled up at the edges. ‘So why don’t you come with me? Father and son together.’

  Chapter Twenty-six

  ‘So, we’re agreed. You’re coming?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And we’ll leave tonight? After the performance?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good!’ The satisfaction was clear in Larkin’s voice. Brandishing his walking stick, he paced across the enclosure floor. Now that the decision had been made, he see
med different. Bigger. Bolder. More animated – as if he’d thrown off a heavy weight that had been pinning him down. ‘We’ll need to make plans.’

  ‘Yes.’ It was the third time that Danny had nodded his agreement. And a knot was beginning to form in his throat. Blocking the air, making his head spin dizzily.

  He watched Larkin pivot on his boot heels. ‘I’m still not entirely sure why you feel the need to take part in the show, but I suppose it’ll work in our favour. Everybody will be so busy they won’t notice that we’ve gone.’

  He pivoted again. ‘Pack a bag today, then hide it somewhere. Somewhere outside the Jamesons’ house but in a place that you can get to easily. Then as soon as the show finishes, we’ll pick it up and leave. I’ll meet you at the footbridge straight after the final scene.’ His eyes locked on Danny. ‘Agreed?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Excellent. And Danny . . . ?’ Larkin’s eyes were bright with something that was far more than excitement. ‘You’ve made the right decision. We’re going to have such amazing adventures, you and I! Don’t you think?’

  ‘Yes.’ The knot loosened. ‘I do.’

  And so, Danny thought later, how easy it had been to steer his life into a new direction with just a handful of words.

  The Jamesons’ house was quiet when Danny let himself inside, but the smell of baking lingered in the air. Mrs Jameson must have been busy all morning, and he knew there’d likely be a plate of fresh biscuits on the kitchen table, waiting just for him.

  For a moment, he let the thought drift. The comfort of home-cooked food would be one of the many things he’d miss when he was gone.

  ‘Danny?’

  He turned. Mrs Jameson was standing in the hall, wiping her hands on her apron repeatedly, even though they looked quite clean. And he wondered how long she’d been waiting there, watching out for him.

  ‘I hoped it was you. I wanted to make sure all was well after last night. I’m afraid Mr Jameson’s temper got the better of him. It was rather a shock, you see. For both of us. And he’s been under such strain. With all the new attractions and the building work and the expansions. And of course, it’s very important that he keeps the investors happy because otherwise . . .’ She stopped, took a breath and dropped the apron. ‘Well, that’s a story for another time. Anyway, are you quite well?’