by Jane Kerr
‘Yes, ma’am. I’m fine.’
‘Good. Good.’ Her smile held more than a touch of relief. ‘Now all we need is for the show to go smoothly, and everything will be exactly as it was. Life will return to normal.’ She stopped as though a possibility had only just occurred to her. ‘You will be there, won’t you? In costume? As Prince Dandip? You’ve not changed your mind?’
Guilt hit Danny’s chest with the force of a fist. ‘Yes. I’ll be there,’ he said. It was the truth but not all of the truth – because by the end of the night, he’d be gone.
‘Oh. I am glad. And Mr Jameson will be pleased.’ This time the smile was deep and heartfelt. ‘Just make sure you’re back here by eight o’clock so we can get you dressed and ready in time.’ She stepped nearer. ‘And don’t worry about Mr Larkin. If he is your father, he’s welcome here for as long as he wishes to stay.’
The guilt punched again. Hastily, Danny nodded and moved towards the stairs.
‘Oh, wait. Just a moment!’ Reaching out, Mrs Jameson smoothed a gentle hand over his hair. And Danny knew the cow’s lick curl must have fallen down, across his forehead. ‘There that’s better. Go on then. Off with you! I’m sure you’ve jobs to do.’
Danny took the stairs two at a time, and ran the rest of the way to his room. And when he was safely inside, he closed the door firmly before sliding the bolt across.
Now the guilt wasn’t a fist, it was a giant hammer pounding away at his insides. For a moment, he thought he might be sick. And then he set his jaw and thought of all the reasons why he needed to go. And of all the reasons he’d decided not to stay.
Crouching, Danny pulled a suitcase from underneath his bed. The hinges creaked as he lifted the lid. The last time he’d tried running away – on the walk from Edinburgh to Manchester – he’d packed every belonging that he owned, but it hadn’t been very much.
This time, there was a lot more to take. An entire wardrobe of clothes; the silver-backed brush that Mrs Jameson have given him; the poster of Maharajah from his old circus days; and a newspaper cutting about the Edinburgh auction – the day that he’d first met Maharajah.
When the suitcase was full, Danny had trouble closing the lid. But eventually, it clicked shut. Grabbing the ankus, he slid it into his belt. He would need it later. And after the show, he would find a safe place to leave it – for someone else to use. The thought sent his stomach dipping to his toes.
He knew he had to leave a note, but he wasn’t sure what to say. And when he thought of some words that might have worked, he didn’t know how to write them. Hetty’s lessons had covered only the most basic of sentences.
So, in the end, he picked up the pen and carefully scrawled: ‘Thank you.’ Because he knew the shape of those words. And then after a long pause he wrote his name: ‘Danny’. Because he knew that too.
The message seemed absurdly small and miserly for what the Jamesons had given him. The queasy feeling in his stomach worsened. And once again, he tried to remember how he’d felt earlier, when he’d been making plans with Larkin. How, in that moment, leaving Belle Vue had seemed not only the right choice, but also the only one.
He’d found his father – and more importantly, his father had found him. Nothing had changed in the last few hours, so why did he feel far less certain? Far more unsure of the step he was about to take?
He pushed the doubts away and folded the paper in half. Carefully, he placed it on the mantelpiece above the hearth so Mrs Jameson would be certain to see it – but not too soon. Then he picked up the suitcase and closed the door quietly behind him.
This time, no one heard him leave.
And now that everything else was done, there was only one more task left. It was the one he was dreading the most.
It didn’t take long to walk to the elephant house. Maharajah was awake, standing alone in his stall almost as though he’d been waiting. As Danny drew nearer, the gold eyes watched him steadily.
Sliding a hand into his jacket, Danny searched for an apple. Then he offered up the fruit on his palm like a gift. Maharajah swept it up with his trunk. And it occurred to Danny that it would be the last time he would do this. The last time that it would just be the two of them, alone together.
Almost from the beginning, there had been a bond. And the connection had only grown stronger over the weeks and months since. Around Maharajah, he always felt safe and known and understood.
He stroked the warm, rough skin – as he had done many times before – and laid his head against Maharajah’s side. A rush of warm breath tickled his cheek. And he felt the ebb and flow of breathing. In and out. Out and in. For long, painful moments, the only sound was the beat of Danny’s heart, and Maharajah’s faint throaty rumble.
‘I won’t get a chance later. Not properly, there’ll be too many people around. So . . . so I wanted to do this now when it’s just you and me.’ His throat tightened and when the words finally emerged, they were threadbare. ‘I wanted to say thank you. And goodbye.’
Chapter Twenty-seven
Danny’s heart was heavy when he left the elephant house a few hours later, and his feet dragged on the ground as if they were made of bricks. He hadn’t imagined that it would hurt this much. That the ties that bound him and Maharajah together, would feel taut and twisted with the strain of being pulled apart.
But he had made his decision. And there was no going back. If there was a place where he belonged, surely it must be with his real father? The father who wanted him.
So, after waiting for as long as he could, he forced himself to leave the enclosure. And to take the path across the paddock. And unlock the gate. And walk through. And even though, every step of the way, he wanted to turn around, he didn’t. Because he couldn’t afford to swing back and forth like a button on a loose thread.
At his side, the suitcase banged against his legs. His next job was to find a place to hide it. He found the right spot under the Belle Vue bandstand. And after tucking the case out of sight, he checked the clock tower on the dance hall roof. It was almost eight o’clock. Mrs Jameson would be expecting him.
But when Danny turned along the path towards Belle Vue House, he couldn’t stop a gasp. Hundreds of people were pouring in through the gates. The steady trickle of visitors had become a torrent. Desperately, he tried to push through the crowds. He needed to get back to the Jamesons.
‘Watch it!’
‘Have a care.’
‘Don’t push so!’
But Danny ignored the angry protests and charged on. He wasn’t the only one. A few steps ahead, another visitor, wrapped in a long dark cloak, was also pressing steadily through the crowd. But this man seemed oddly separate from everyone else. Not part of a family, or a group of friends, or even one half of a couple.
Curious, Danny jostled a little nearer. There was something about the visitor that was oddly familiar but the man had drawn his cape so tightly around himself that it was impossible to see a face or figure. Suddenly, he stumbled and the cloak flew wide, exposing its bright scarlet lining.
And Danny felt another jolt of recognition. But it wasn’t the person that had set his instincts flaring. It was the cape. Because it was identical to the one Reverend Threlfall had been wearing on the day Danny had visited the vicarage.
His heart thudded against his ribs. Why would the vicar come to the show? Why was he keeping himself hidden among the crowds? And why was he alone? There were a hundred different questions spinning in his head but Danny was certain the answer to each one of them was the same.
Reverend Threlfall was here to cause trouble.
In the end, the decision to follow the vicar was easy because Danny knew there was little choice if he wanted answers. But more than that: he owed the Jamesons the truth before he said goodbye – to them and to Belle Vue.
Ahead, the cloaked figure had battled to the edge of the crowd, and was now walking more quickly, with the purpose of someone who knew exactly where they were going. Cautiously, Danny follow
ed. Pacing himself, so that each footstep matched the steps of the man ahead.
They skirted past the maze and the glass hothouses; and then the dance hall where the clock tower now read fifteen minutes past eight. But instead of veering towards Belle Vue Lake with the rest of the spectators, the figure peeled away along the path towards the aviary.
Danny slipped into the shadows and headed in the same direction. He was careful – probably more careful than he needed to be because Threlfall didn’t once look back. Silently, they zigzagged through the cages – following almost exactly the same path as Danny and Hetty had taken just over a week ago. And for a moment, Danny wondered if they were heading towards Emerald’s pen.
But instead of stopping at the emu enclosure, the vicar continued on along the track. Now there could be only one possible destination: the reptile house.
Danny could have sung with relief. The reptile enclosure was always secure, with high, barred windows and padlocks on the door. There were simply too many dangerous creatures inside to take risks. Not only was it home to Cleopatra, but there were puff adders, poison dart frogs and funnel-web spiders. Any one of them could be deadly.
So, if Threlfall was hoping to release another animal, this time he wouldn’t succeed. Besides, after Victoria’s escape Mr Jameson had promised to hire extra guards.
At the reptile house, the figure stopped outside the door, curving his body around the padlocks as though to hide them from view. Danny ducked behind a tree and watched.
Time ticked on. His breath see-sawed in and out of his chest impatiently. Surely one of the keepers would patrol along shortly? Maybe Nelson Crimple might appear, sent by the Jamesons to track him down.
But no one came. And then Danny realized why. Most of Belle Vue’s staff were on the other side of the park – taking tickets and controlling the crowds. And the rest were part of the show.
In this moment, he was entirely on his own.
Abruptly, a series of metallic clicks broke the silence, and three padlocks clattered loudly to the floor. The enclosure door moved, just a fraction, and the cloaked figure slipped through the gap and disappeared.
Danny’s heart stuttered. Quietly, he slid from his hiding place and crept towards the building. The door was still slightly ajar. He pushed it wider and stepped into the darkness.
Inside, the reptile house was dark but not silent. A purring growl vibrated between the walls, mingling with the hisses, snarls and croaks of the other reptiles. But among all the animal noises, Danny could distinctly hear another, far more human sound. The light tread of footsteps.
He stopped, raising his head to listen. The footsteps sounded again, pacing around one of the exhibition halls just off the main corridor. The intruder was with the snakes.
Edging around the corner, Danny scanned the room. Glass cabinets lined the walls, each one housing a different group of snakes – pythons, vipers, boas and mambas. But it was the cobras that seemed to interest the cloaked figure. He’d lit a gas lamp above their cabinet and was staring inside, apparently fascinated.
Danny edged closer, careful to keep to the shadows.
Then with one impatient gesture, the figure pushed back the hood of his cape. And Danny’s mouth fell open; his world tipped sideways. Because it wasn’t Reverend Eustace Threlfall. It was someone entirely and utterly unexpected.
It was the vicar’s sister, Constance.
‘Constance?’
She straightened, moving away from the glass case. ‘Danny? Is that you?’
‘Yes.’ He stepped nearer, and now he could see that the cabinet lid was wide open. A set of keys dangled from the lock. ‘What are you doing?’
‘I’m setting the animals free. I’ve thought about it. And they shouldn’t be locked up. It’s not right.’
‘Why not?’
‘Animals shouldn’t be in cages. They should be in fields. And skies. And rivers. They should be free.’
Of all the explanations Danny had expected, this was not one of them. He’d been certain that whoever was setting the animals loose was doing it to hurt Belle Vue. It had never occurred to him that there could be another reason.
‘But the animals are safe here. And warm. And well fed. And if they get ill, Mr Saddleworth makes them better.’ Danny could hear his own confusion. ‘This is their home, Constance. This is where they’re looked after. Where they’re protected. Why would you want to let them loose?’
Slowly, Constance tilted her head. It was as though she were carefully considering all that he’d said and was working through every argument. Finally, she said, ‘Would you want to be locked up?’
The question was so simple, it felt like a trap. With sudden vivid clarity, Danny remembered the lavender-blue butterfly caught between Constance’s cupped hands. He could still picture the tremble of its veined wings. And how those wings had spread and strengthened with the sudden joy of being set free. And then he remembered how they’d both watched as the butterfly had soared into the sky – and disappeared.
But he didn’t answer the question, because he didn’t know how to.
Instead, he changed tack. ‘Was it you who broke the padlock on Emerald’s cage?’
‘Yes. With a hammer.’ Constance seemed surprised to be asked.
‘And what about Victoria . . . the lioness . . . was that you as well?’
‘Yes. Of course. I did tell you it wasn’t my brother. Eustace is a good person. He obeys the rules. But sometimes, the rules aren’t right.’ For the first time, she looked worried. Lines creased the plain circle of her face. ‘He’d be cross with me if he found out. You won’t tell him, will you?’
‘I have to, Constance. You can’t let animals roam around loose. It’s dangerous. What if they got hurt? Or what if they hurt someone?’ Deliberately, Danny gentled his voice. He was struggling to make certain his words made sense. ‘Remember when Victoria escaped? Did you know we found her in a cellar? Trapped inside with a young boy? He was . . . he was terrified.’
Constance frowned. She looked to be travelling along a series of complicated paths in her mind. ‘I hadn’t thought of that. I wouldn’t like the animals to harm people. Or scare anyone. I just want them to be free.’
‘I think maybe . . .’ Danny’s mouth dried. Inside the cabinet, a king cobra, thick as a blacksmith’s arm, was unravelling slowly from its coil. It was a sign of his shock that he’d forgotten where they were. And how dangerous it could be.
Cautiously, he stepped to one side. ‘Constance. Stay exactly where you are. Don’t move.’
‘But—’
‘Stay still!’
He watched the cobra lift slowly upright, holding its head high above the opened lid, then unfurl its tongue from between thin lips.
And a warning rang in his head louder than a church bell.
There’s enough poison in one bite to kill twenty people.
He breathed out slowly. Beside him, Constance twitched.
Suddenly, the loose skin around the cobra’s neck flared into a hood, its bronze and black scales standing out like warning signs. And Danny knew he only had one moment.
Reaching out, he slammed a fist against the cabinet lid, just as the cobra’s mouth opened into a wide, pink hollow. The lid fell with a crash – knocking the snake back into the case. Sulkily, it slid away and curled into a corner.
Heart pounding, Danny twisted the key in the lock. ‘Freedom is wonderful,’ he said. ‘But, so is being safe.’
Chapter Twenty-eight
Constance didn’t protest when Danny suggested that he walk her home. He certainly couldn’t leave her here. And he reckoned that, if he was quick, he still had just enough time to get ready for the show.
But before they left the reptile house, Danny made sure to pull the door shut and click the padlocks securely back into place. Then he slipped the bunch of keys he’d taken from the snake cabinet back into his pocket. There were too many dangerous animals inside not to be careful.
At the vicarage, Re
verend Threlfall answered the door with a speed that suggested he’d been pacing the floor. His stiff collar hung loose around his neck, and his hair looked as though fingers had been driven through it.
‘Constance, where have you been? You know I don’t like you walking around at night.’ He glared at Danny. ‘And what in heaven’s name are you doing here?’
Danny hesitated. He’d spent the last fifteen minutes wondering what to say to Reverend Threlfall. How to explain the full story. But he needn’t have worried, because Constance spoke first. As usual, her words were simple, straightforward and honest.
‘It was me, Eustace. I let the animals escape. I did it.’
‘What are you talking about, Constance? I don’t understand.’ The vicar frowned, obviously confused. ‘Is the boy putting you up to this? Planting stories in your head?’ His face tightened. ‘Or is this one of Jameson’s schemes? I should have known. That man can’t be trusted!’
Danny forced himself to keep calm. ‘No, sir. This isn’t a trick. And it has nothing to do with Mr Jameson. But I think . . . I think you need to speak to your sister. Alone.’
Lightly, he touched Constance’s arm and waited until she turned to look at him. ‘I have to go now, Constance. The show is due to start soon and I have to be there. But just tell your brother exactly what you told me. I’m sure he’ll understand.’
‘Yes, Danny. I will. I promise.’
She smiled her sweet smile, and Danny couldn’t help smiling back. He raised his eyes to look at the vicar. ‘Please don’t be angry. I think your sister is just about the kindest person I know.’
But as Danny left the vicarage and sprinted back towards Belle Vue, he was aware of something niggling at him, as irritating and persistent as a splinter. Although it wasn’t until he reached the Longsight gate that he realized what it was.