Umbrella Mouse to the Rescue

by Anna Fargher

  Pip held her breath as the seagulls parted. Max stared at her and the two seagulls holding the umbrella in their bills. He gazed at Madame Fourcade, GI Joe, then back at Pip and the umbrella, and his beak fell open.

  ‘Is that . . . ?’ Max’s beak gaped with disbelief. ‘But I thought the Umbrella Mouse was just a story.’

  ‘My name is Pip Hanway.’ Pip impatiently flicked her tail. She was sick of everyone knowing who she was but not knowing who she really was at all. ‘I’m a member of Noah’s Ark and we’re fighting to help the Allies win the war, just like the rest of the Resistance. Then I am going to find the rest of my family, who live in the only umbrella museum in the world in Gignese, Italy.’

  ‘That’s close to my home in Lake Maggiore!’ Leo’s big ears popped up in surprise.

  Pip ignored him, her hackles rising in irritation. ‘We’ve travelled for days. It’s been a long and difficult journey. We’re tired and hungry and we must find the white mouse in the catacombs. We need you to take us to her now!’

  A startled silence radiated around the tunnel and Pip’s cheeks flushed with anger as Max, Leo and Philippe blinked, not knowing what to say.

  ‘O-o-of course,’ Max stuttered at last, turning to the gap in the railway sleepers and beckoning with his wing for the others to follow. ‘Right this way.’

  ‘Well said, kid.’ GI Joe smiled with pride beside her.

  Pip immediately bit her lip with embarrassment. Her temper always flared when she needed food and a good night’s sleep.

  ‘No need to look like that, mademoiselle,’ Claude added. ‘It’s about time somebody taught them a lesson.’

  Claude ordered the rest of the gulls back to the colony while Max guided Pip, Madame Fourcade, GI Joe, Leo and Philippe into the secret opening beneath the narrow railway sleeper. With Claude’s help, they lowered the umbrella into the hole. As the seagull hopped inside after it, Max lit a fresh match, jumped after them and snatched away the pole that held the trapdoor open. Slamming shut, it clicked seamlessly into place, returning to just another of the long line of timber sleepers running through the abandoned tunnel.

  From behind a crumbling brick left beside the disused railway track many years before, a pair of gleaming red eyes narrowed, watching Pip and her friends disappear into the gloom. With a sniff, the Goliath Rat scuttled to the secret doorway and collected the charred remains of Leo’s match in its bony paws.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  THE CROSSING

  ‘Wait!’ Max cried after Pip, Madame Fourcade and GI Joe, carrying the umbrella as they followed the seagulls down a dark, steep slope into the catacombs. Leo and Philippe the parrot turned when the raven hurled a matchbox card in their direction. It bounced off Leo’s head before landing beside Pip’s paws. The word Libération was printed beneath a picture of three flags: the British Union Jack, the American Stars and Stripes and the French Tricolour. ‘You’ll need one of these!’

  ‘Ah! Si! Grazie.’ Leo pulled out a pink-tipped match and a white spark flashed before an orange flame billowed in the gloom.

  ‘If you hurry,’ Max added, ‘it should last for as long as you need it.’

  ‘Andiamo! ’ Leo cried, leading the way down a well-trodden path deep underground.

  The flare rippled above Leo’s head and long shadows danced across the domed ceiling of the large chalky burrow.

  ‘Now there’s something you don’t see every day,’ GI Joe said as Leo scampered round a corner and skidded to a halt in front of a wall of human skulls jamming the tunnel, and Pip shivered, gazing at the empty eye sockets and toothy grins of humans long dead.

  ‘You’ve seen nothing yet,’ Leo said, dropping the flare on the ground upon a pile of charred matches, whittled and twisted by fire. A moment later, the flame snuffed out and plunged them into darkness.

  ‘Now what?’ Pip stared blindly into the gloom, feeling her heart begin to pound.

  ‘Just you wait,’ Philippe said behind her.

  A clunk sounded, followed by a long creak, and Pip blinked in disbelief, seeing a shaft of light creep over them. Leo’s silhouette came into view, pulling a tooth in the bottom left skull and opening its face as though it were a door. Behind it, a long passage sloped deeper underground, lit by a string of little electric Christmas lights fixed to the ceiling.

  ‘Welcome to the empire of death!’ Leo’s eyes twinkled mischievously in the half-light and the animals’ noses twitched, smelling damp air. ‘It’s a limestone labyrinth winding right beneath the feet of the Parisians! Six million of them are buried here and some bones are over a thousand years old.’

  Pip pretended not to be scared and held her head high, hoping the tiny tremor of her whiskers did not betray her unease.

  ‘After you, Pipsqueak!’ Leo winked. Pip frowned, not liking the name at all. He couldn’t be much older than she was. She walked through the skull door with Madame Fourcade, GI Joe and the umbrella without giving him a second glance.

  ‘Will you never learn, Leo?’ Claude waddled after them, ducking his head as he went. ‘She’s too clever for you. You’ll have to try harder than that.’

  ‘She’s on to you, mon ami.’ Philippe chuckled, padding past Leo. Sighing, Leo let go of the tooth and darted into the secret passage with the skull door swinging closed behind him.

  They followed the lights into the catacombs through tunnels flecked with fossils of ancient sea creatures. It wasn’t long before the path levelled and they found themselves inside a large chamber encased in beige stone, gleaming with droplets of moisture. A pool of still water lay ahead with a broad channel leading to the right. The string of little lights diverted sharply along its wall, illuminating a narrow footpath leading into the darkness beyond.

  ‘That’s where we need to go.’ Leo pointed his paw to the opposite side of the pool where a tiny ledge was just visible in the shadows. ‘You can’t see it from here, but there’s a corridor over there.’

  ‘But shouldn’t we follow the lights?’ Pip asked, feeling comforted by their glow shimmering over the water.

  ‘That’s exactly what we want you to do,’ Philippe said.

  ‘If you were an intruder,’ Leo added, ‘you’d assume the lights would guide you to our secret hideout. Seeing your way makes a route seem safer, but that passage leads into the depths of the labyrinth from which you would never return.’ Pip’s eyes widened and Leo smiled, getting the reaction he wanted. ‘Sometimes the right path is the least inviting.’

  ‘How do we get across?’ Madame Fourcade stared at the gloomy ledge. ‘It’s a long swim to the other side.’

  ‘You don’t want to swim in there!’ Philippe shuddered. ‘A catfish the size of a human prowls beneath the surface.’

  Pip stared into the murky water and the fur on the back of her neck stood on end.

  Leo went over to the parrot, who offered his wing for the mouse to climb. ‘We can’t be sure where it is, so we must always fly across.’

  ‘No need to look so worried, mes amis.’ Claude ruffled his feathers with impatience as Pip, Madame Fourcade and GI Joe glanced at one another nervously. ‘Philippe and I can carry you and your umbrella across. We’ve flown over it many times before.’

  ‘Wait.’ Leo followed Pip’s gaze and understood what was bothering her. ‘Are you afraid for the umbrella?’ Pip nodded softly and Leo stared across the pool again. ‘She has a point, you know. The ledge is too small for a pair of birds to land. The corridor is also too narrow to carry the umbrella side by side, and if any of us land on the water we risk being the catfish’s supper.’

  Claude waggled his tail feathers, knowing Leo was right.

  ‘I know! We can float across!’ Pip’s eyes twinkled at Madame Fourcade and GI Joe, frowning beside her. ‘In the umbrella! I’ll show you – point its tip towards the water’s edge.’

  The hedgehog and the pigeon followed her instructions and Pip ran her paw over the umbrella’s ornate silver handle. Pressing one of the fig leaves etched into the metal
, the umbrella canopy instantly burst open with its handle bolting up from the ground at an angle.

  ‘Now all we have to do –’ Pip smiled – ‘is push it into the water and we’ll sail across. As long as a giant catfish can’t eat a whole umbrella?’ Pip swallowed, trying not to think of it lurking beneath the surface. Her friends glanced uneasily at one another, brows furrowed. ‘Can it?’

  A silence followed as the animals considered her plan.

  ‘It’s the only way to get the umbrella and all of us across safely,’ Madame Fourcade sighed at last.

  ‘But we’ve gotta be damn sure to get you over there before that catfish realizes what’s happening, and if you wanna put to sea then you’ve gotta have wind in your sails.’ GI Joe cooed, and all eyes darted to him. ‘I’m gonna push you along with my wings.’

  ‘But, GI,’ Pip said, looking his thin frame up and down, ‘are your wings strong enough?’

  ‘I’ve gotta try.’ GI Joe’s feathers ruffled around his neck and Leo and Philippe glanced at one another nervously. ‘We haven’t come this far to lose you and your umbrella to an overgrown fish. So I’m gonna get you over there as fast as we can.’

  ‘Two birds are faster than one.’ Philippe stepped forward, with Leo nodding enthusiastically beside him.

  ‘And I’ll keep guard,’ Claude said.

  ‘All right, then.’ Pip swallowed, trying to squash her heart thumping in her throat. ‘Help me push the umbrella into the water.’

  As soon as it made contact, Pip and Madame Fourcade leaped into the middle of the umbrella’s open canopy and the handle righted itself over their heads. At once, their weight pushed the umbrella across the surface, rippling with tiny little waves, and Pip shivered, feeling the cool water bob beneath her paws. Unable to see over the side of the canopy curving up around them, Pip and Madame Fourcade gazed at Claude circling above, his eyes boring into the surface of the water. The hedgehog took Pip’s paw in her own and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

  ‘Here we come!’ GI Joe cried, his clattering wings echoing in the chamber.

  He landed unsteadily on the handle, and Pip and Madame Fourcade struggled to keep their balance as the umbrella lurched on the water in a sickening sway from side to side. Once the rocking ceased, Philippe launched into the air and wrapped his claws round the umbrella’s metal pole, and Pip and Madame Fourcade stumbled as the umbrella surged across the water with the force of the pigeon and the parrot’s wings.

  ‘It’s working!’ Leo cried from Philippe’s back. ‘We’ll reach the other side in no time.’

  But as Pip and Madame Fourcade beamed at one another, the seagull circling overhead suddenly screeched.

  ‘It’s coming!’ Claude cried, his stony eyes widening towards the channel behind them where a long tail fin sliced the surface of the water, coming swiftly towards them. ‘Hurry!’ he cawed. ‘It’s heading straight for you!’

  Pip’s heart drummed behind her ribs. Without looking back, GI Joe and Philippe frantically beat their wings and dragged the umbrella over the pool. A few terrifying moments later, the birds crashed upon the narrow footpath on the other side of the chamber and slammed the metal handle and pole against the ledge. The umbrella abruptly tipped on its side, and Pip and Madame Fourcade raced from the canopy to safety.

  ‘Get away from the umbrella!’ Claude shrieked, hovering above a monstrous black shape rising out of the water.

  ‘No!’ Pip cried, rushing to the handle. ‘We have to get it out!’ GI Joe hurried to her with Philippe, Madame Fourcade and Leo, and as each of them snatched a piece of the umbrella Pip yelled, ‘PULL!’

  The animals threw themselves backwards and Claude plunged through the air as the wide, gaping mouth of the catfish lunged at them. The gull’s sharp yellow beak stabbed its slimy, black skin and the fish belched, its speckled body thrashing in pain. A moment later, it snapped its empty, long-whiskered jaws shut and slithered back below the surface of the pool.

  ‘And stay there!’ Claude spat, landing on the ledge with a waggle of his tail feathers.

  ‘Now that was an adventure!’ Leo grinned, staring breathlessly at the murky water, with Pip and the others lying in a heap and holding the dripping umbrella, doming over them as though they were sheltering from the rain.

  ‘I don’t like this place.’ Pip grumbled. ‘We’ve travelled a long way to help the humans liberate Paris and the last thing we need is to be attacked by a monster.’

  Madame Fourcade nodded. ‘I couldn’t have put it better myself.’

  ‘The white mouse isn’t much further,’ Philippe said. ‘You’ll see.’

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  THE PARIS RESISTANCE

  Pip pressed a different button, hidden in the carved silver fig leaves on the handle, and collapsed the umbrella canopy above their heads. Letting the umbrella topple like a falling tree, she and her friends caught it in their paws and wings, and followed Leo and Philippe into the gloom.

  The large limestone tunnel soon changed from rough walls to stacks of bones and skulls, which watched them pass with hollow stares and macabre smiles.

  ‘They say this poor soul died of leprosy.’ Leo stopped in front of a cracked and crumbling face.

  A chill rippled down Pip’s spine as Leo reached out his paw and knocked on its pitted cheekbone three times, before pausing and striking his knuckles once more. A moment later, a scuttling sounded inside the skull.

  ‘Ciao, Eduardo, Céline,’ Leo said, smiling, as two voles popped out of the right eye socket.

  ‘We have good news from the west,’ Claude squawked.

  ‘We need to see the white mouse,’ Pip added, Madame Fourcade and GI Joe standing tall beside her.

  ‘Come in!’ Eduardo squeaked cheerily, spotting the little mouse carrying the umbrella. His whiskers twitched excitedly on his cheeks. ‘We have been expecting you!’

  The voles disappeared and the skull sank into the wall of bones with a creak of rotating wheels. Pip’s mouth fell open as she stared through a mist of dust at a vast chamber bustling with life under the dim glow of little electric lights strung along the walls inside.

  The animals entered the Resistance’s hideout and hesitated for a moment as a one-eyed Jack Russell terrier and pair of tall, muscular rats clutching sharp, pointed spears of wood eyed them up and down with twitching noses. Satisfied Pip and her friends were not a threat, they stepped aside and watched the animals carry the umbrella into the enormous square room. The voles rumbled the skull back into place behind them and Pip’s stomach growled, spying a large cluster of mushrooms growing in the corner of the room to her left. Continuing past a wall of tinned sardines, ham and vegetables stacked on top of one another, the air thrummed with the dits and dahs of Morse code.

  To the left of the chamber, a variety of small birds wearing little black headphones sat on halved wine corks under desks made from old cotton reels. In their wings, they held small rectangular triggers strung to little crystal radios. Tapping them with their faces scrunching up in concentration, they sent secret messages and scribbled replies on little bits of paper, foraged from waiters’ notepads. Alongside the radio operators, a group of fifty mice and rats pedalled little bicycles fixed to the ground. Every back wheel had its tyre replaced with a belt wrapped round its metal rim and a small rotary device attached to a box. Wires snaked from each one and climbed the walls to the Christmas lights illuminating the chamber, and Pip gasped with wonder as she realized the bicycles were generating electricity.

  ‘They’re vital during power cuts.’ Leo smiled, noticing her awed expression. ‘We have them almost every day now. We get our electricity from Colonel Rol’s bunker next door. He’s a human leader of the Paris Resistance and he uses bicycles to power his hideout when the lights go out and the radios are silenced. We do the same to help him keep it running. You see those coypus over there?’ Leo pointed his paw towards the opposite side of the chamber where a pair of beaver-rats, just like Madame Fourcade had described, were sitting on
their haunches with their ears pricked towards the broad end of a large speaking trumpet that was connected to a hole in the wall by its mouthpiece. ‘They listen in to Colonel Rol’s bunker all day and night so we’re always aware of movements above ground. Then we know the best way to strike the enemy!’

  Beside the coypus, a huge ornate spider’s web was draped around a Red Cross flag hanging on the right-hand wall of the chamber. Beneath it, an assortment of empty food tins were cut lengthwise into cradles, creating a large medical ward that merged into a further dormitory of beds. Lined up in rows, they bulged with soft feathers, tucked in with a little sheet made from old handkerchiefs.

  As they walked to the middle of the room, past a tea stall made from a broken carriage clock laid on its side, a shimmer of fireflies hovered above the biggest group of animals Pip had ever seen: mice, chickens, rats, ravens, coypus, beavers, bats, pigeons, sparrows, squirrels, rabbits, small dogs and cats all muttered to one another as they collected in front of a stage made from upright tins labelled with the word Tomates printed in curling red letters. Two burly rats guarded each corner, and a large map of Paris stood on an easel in the centre, where a ginger cat and a small, scruffy stray dog with very short legs and a long body talked heatedly to a white mouse whose hazel eyes blazed with life.

  ‘Look!’ a voice suddenly cried from the crowd. ‘It’s Pip, GI Joe and Madame Fourcade!’

  At once a wave of ears pricked as all furry and feathered heads whipped round to watch the new arrivals pad across the chamber with the umbrella. The crowd promptly dispersed and the birds at the radios and the mice and rats pedalling the bicycle generators looked up for a moment and smiled, knowing the Umbrella Mouse had finally arrived, before diligently returning to their work.

  A number of animals hopped from different directions through the throng, and Pip beamed, recognizing familiar faces from Noah’s Ark and the Maquis. Noah’s Ark’s largest rabbit was the first to meet them, closely followed by a beaver with his wife and son, and the umbrella dropped on the floor as the animals embraced one another. Monique the ermine and Pie the magpie, carrying Amélie the spider on his back, were next to arrive, with the fireflies floating overhead and the two bats whirring high above them. So often in wartime, to part with one’s friends meant never seeing them again, and to reunite brought a rush of hope to the animals’ hearts that they could survive more dark days ahead.