The Runaways Page 5

  A few hundred yards brought them to the long, sandy beach of St Bees.

  Neither Tara nor Harvey had ever seen sand before, and the beach at St Bees stretched for miles. It felt different under her feet from the grass and stone Tara had been used to. Better somehow, softer and easier to kick up. She started to run along it with Harvey, still aching, hobbling after her – the sea wind whipping around them.

  But suddenly, Tara stopped, so quickly that Harvey almost ran into the back of her. The little elephant raised her trunk to the pink sky and made a mournful sound totally unlike her usual laughing squee, but very like the sounds Harvey had heard the night before. It came from deep within her – an elephant cry to her mother, but Shanti did not reply.

  A moment later Tara began running to the sea. She was thirsty and here was water, lots and lots of it. Harvey chased after her, barking at her to slow down, be careful, look where she was going. None of which the baby elephant listened to.

  Her trunk went into the waves and she sucked up the water and then took it to her mouth and swallowed it all down. Harvey lapped at the wavy water too. It didn’t taste quite right, but he was very thirsty so he kept on drinking it.

  Then he was sick. Tara retched too and then was sick as well, right beside him on the sand.

  But it didn’t stop her from wanting to go into the wavy water. She paddled out as the sea washed over her feet and then over her knees, until finally she was forced to push her way through the water as it did its best to push her back.

  Harvey didn’t follow her in. He didn’t like the water that had made him sick. He didn’t like the way the waves came for him either, and he jumped back as they rushed towards him. He barked from the edge to tell Tara to come back, but she was having too much fun in the wavy water to listen to him.

  Harvey barked even louder when she went out further still into the sea. He ran along the beach and back again whimpering as a wave went right over her head and she disappeared. But Tara wasn’t fazed at all by it and the next second her feet could no longer feel the seabed beneath them and she instinctively started swimming through the water.

  Harvey was frantic with fear for her as she went further and further out. He hobbled up and down, left to right, barking to her to come back. And finally she must have heard him because she turned and he was very relieved to see her swimming towards him, but only to worry him again by rolling on to her side in the shallower water and start using her trunk as a snorkel.

  Further out to sea, in a small rowing boat, young Tom was with his grandfather helping him check the crab pots, as he usually did.

  ‘At least the crabs aren’t affected by the war,’ his grandfather said. ‘Plenty of crabs about still, but not plenty of anything else much.’

  The old man sat staring into the sea lost in thought. ‘It’s gone on for far too long,’ he said, half to himself. ‘And what’s it all for? Greed, that’s what it’s for, and millions of lads who don’t even have a penn’orth of land to call their own have to lose their lives because someone else wants more of it.’

  ‘Grandad …’ Tom said.

  He was looking shorewards at a grey rock that seemed to be moving in and out of the waves, and a dog barking at it. It looked almost as if the grey rock had an arm coming from it, although it was hard to see for absolute sure because of the sea spray and the brightness of the early morning sky.

  But there was definitely something different about the shoreline today. He saw it again and stood up in the boat.

  ‘Careful, lad,’ his grandfather warned him.

  ‘It looks like there’s an elephant in the water,’ Tom said. ‘An elephant!’

  His grandfather looked too, but his old eyes weren’t as sharp as Tom’s ten-year-old ones.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ he said.

  And now Tom couldn’t see it either. ‘There was an elephant. No – yes – look, there it is again.’

  They were still a long way out, and the tide was against them, but Tom started rowing towards the beach.

  Harvey was hungry, and the saltwater had scratched his throat. He hadn’t had to catch his own food for a very long time, but now his hunger brought his hunter instinct to the fore. When he saw the crab scuttling along the beach, he pounced on it, his jaws clamping round it. Harvey was an old dog, but there was nothing wrong with his teeth.

  He finished it off as Tara finished playing in the waves and came back to the shore. She started kicking at the sand with her front foot to soften it and then used her trunk to scoop it up and throw it over her back. Her headdress was looking very much the worse for wear, but somehow it had managed to stay on her.

  Harvey headed for some rock pools where food was even easier to find and chomped on an oyster and some razor clams.

  Tara had been hungry yesterday, but now she was starving. Usually she drank milk from her mum throughout the day. She ate some of the seaweed from the rock pools, but what she liked most was the sea spinach that was growing all along the coastline. She pulled whole plants up by the roots and ate them, flowers, leaves and all, and when she found some sea kale she ate that too.

  Tummies partially filled, Tara and Harvey finally headed back inland towards the rising hills of the Lake District.

  By the time Tom and his grandfather reached the shore the two animals were gone.

  ‘What do you think an elephant was doing here?’ Tom asked, as he rowed the boat back out to sea to collect their crab pots.

  His grandfather didn’t know as he hadn’t seen what Tom had seen.

  ‘You sure there was an elephant?’ he asked. He didn’t disbelieve his grandson, but it did seem a bit unlikely.

  ‘Yes!’ said Tom.

  ‘Maybe there’s a circus coming to St Bees,’ his grandfather said mildly. Tom had always been very fond of them.

  But Tom shook his head. He’d have known about it if there were. There’d been a circus at Whitehaven, but the last show was yesterday afternoon.

  ‘Do you think it’s lost? Maybe we should report it to the police?’ he said.

  His grandfather didn’t think that was a good idea. ‘Best leave things be.’

  Chapter 9

  After Shanti had munched her way slowly through a wheelbarrow full of potatoes, carrots and cabbages, Yolanda, AJ and Mr Jones showed her around the farm.

  Standing on the bottom rung of the wooden gate, Yolanda and AJ called to the cows. The inquisitive animals immediately came over to sniff at Shanti. But when she gave a trumpet of greeting one of the cows jumped back in surprise, which made AJ laugh.

  ‘She’s only trying to be friendly!’ he said.

  The sheep, however, didn’t come down from the hills when the children called them, and were much more wary of the huge elephant.

  Eventually, they started back towards the barn and the cottage. ‘Come along, Shanti,’ Mr Jones said, turning his chair to follow AJ and Yolanda. He’d only gone a few yards when he was suddenly surprised to find his wheelchair moving along of its own accord. Shanti had taken it upon herself to grip it with the finger-like tips of her trunk and push it just like she’d done with the pram at the circus.

  ‘That’s it, Shanti,’ AJ said, turning round and laughing at the spectacle.

  ‘Good girl,’ said Yolanda. ‘Not too fast though.’

  ‘She’s surprisingly good at wheelchair pushing,’ Mr Jones said, over his shoulder, once he’d got over his shock of having an elephant pushing him. ‘This way, Shanti.’ He pointed in front of him to show the elephant the way he wanted her to go and Shanti took him past the barn all the way back to the cottage where he pushed himself up the wooden ramp he’d had made to the front door. ‘Th-thank you,’ he said, feeling slightly shaken by the whole incident, but unable to stop smiling. ‘Good elephant,’ he said, giving her a pat.

  Shanti raised her trunk and opened her mouth for a treat but Mr Jones had nothing to hand so he gave her another pat instead while Yolanda ran inside to find some bread.

  ‘Here you are Shanti,’ she said, and the elephant took the loaf from her and ate it in one great gulp.

  ‘Who’d have thought she could push a wheelchair?’ AJ said.

  ‘I think there might be quite a lot of things Shanti can do that we didn’t know about,’ said their dad. ‘She is obviously very intelligent and able to think for herself.’

  They went inside the house to have their own breakfast, minus any bread.

  ‘I’d rather have porridge anyway,’ said Yolanda, and AJ nodded, although he didn’t much like its gloopiness. Yolanda was terrible at making porridge, but he didn’t ever say so because it would be unkind and he knew that she probably didn’t like it either. He didn’t think Yolanda liked cooking anything much, but she did it anyway.

  After breakfast Mr Jones wheeled himself to his study and over to his desk. There was a picture of Yolanda and AJ’s mother hanging on the wall and he looked up at it as he always did.

  ‘You’d be proud of how well our children are doing,’ he told her picture. ‘And you’d have loved our new pet.’

  You should still be here, he thought, as he did every day. He sighed as he picked up a pen and wrote to Jedediah Lewis, the owner of Lewis Brothers’ Circus.

  Dear Sir,

  Your elephant has arrived safely and seems to be settling in well. However I’m puzzled by the note that accompanied her, sadly water damaged so we cannot read most of it, and the mention of the name Tara …

  ‘Ready to see what else Shanti can do?’ he called to Yolanda and AJ once he’d finished the letter. He headed outside, carrying a handbell he’d brought back from Ceylon. He’d seen people there use a bell to attract elephants’ attention and sometimes the elephants wore large cow bells so everyone would know where they were and when they were heading their way.

  ‘Do you think Shanti could help with the apple picking,’ Yolanda asked, as they walked back to the barn. The trees were laden with them.

  ‘Shanti does love apples,’ AJ said.

  ‘I’m sure she could,’ said Mr Jones. ‘Although she might eat them all.’

  Shanti was munching on her second breakfast of hay in the barn, but she looked up as soon as Mr Jones rang the bell.

  ‘Let’s pick some apples, Shanti,’ he said, and she followed him and the children to the orchard.

  Apple picking, from even the tallest branches, was no problem for Shanti’s dextrous trunk. But they didn’t go in the fruit-collecting basket – they went in Shanti’s mouth.

  ‘Like this, Shanti,’ Yolanda said and she dropped an apple in the basket and Shanti copied her and dropped the next apple she picked with her trunk into the basket – and continued to drop those that she didn’t eat herself into it.

  AJ threw the elephant an apple and was amazed when she caught it with her trunk.

  ‘I bet she’s even better at playing ball than Lizzie,’ he said. They’d all read about how the people who worked at Tommy Ward’s factory had put Lizzie in goal when they were playing football against another team.

  Shanti made easy work of picking plums from the tops of the trees too, and no one minded that she ate quite a lot of these as well.

  ‘She’s amazing, Dad,’ said Yolanda. The fruit picking had taken far less time than it would normally have done.

  ‘What else do you think she could do?’ AJ asked.

  ‘Lots of things to help the war effort,’ Mr Jones said. ‘Maybe she could help transport the trees that need to be cut into logs to help support the trenches at the front and of course help with the ploughing and take the wheat to the mill for grinding. Although I’d never let her push the grindstone. It’s too mind-numbing a job for such an intelligent animal. I’d never make Shanti do a job she didn’t want to or that I thought she’d hate.’

  Once the orchard fruit had been picked Mr Jones and the children went back inside the cottage.

  Shanti went back to the barn at first, but then she headed off to the cow field, opened the gate, went inside with the cows and closed the gate after her.

  The cows looked over at her but didn’t stop eating as she came to join them.

  ‘Would you take this to the post office for me?’ Mr Jones asked Yolanda and AJ. ‘I want Shanti’s previous owner to get it as soon as possible.’

  Yolanda and AJ took the letter and headed down the hill from the farm to the village with it.

  In the village they met Annie and three of the other women from the WLA who lived in the hostel at the end of the street. They were all dressed up ready for a night out in Whitehaven.

  Yolanda had never seen Annie wearing a dress, and a hat with what looked like a recently found pheasant feather in it.

  ‘Are you going somewhere nice?’ Yolanda asked the women shyly. The farm women always seemed to be having lots of fun, although she was sure working on the land was very hard work too.

  ‘The music hall at the Royal Standard in Whitehaven,’ Annie told her.

  Yolanda wished she could go with them. The music hall sounded so glamorous.

  ‘We’ve got a letter for the Lewis Brothers’ ringmaster at the Whitehaven circus ground,’ AJ said, and Yolanda told Annie and the other women about the mysterious Tara.

  ‘Shanti got really upset when we said her name,’ she finished.

  ‘We’ll take the letter for you if you like,’ Annie said, and the other women nodded.

  ‘Oh no, it’s too much to ask,’ Yolanda said. But Annie told her it was no bother at all and took the letter from her.

  ‘Thanks,’ AJ said, as the women headed on towards the railway station. The sooner they found out who Tara was the better. Maybe Tara was Shanti’s mum or best friend and that was why she’d bellowed so loudly at the sound of her name.

  The ringmaster was very surprised when there was a knock at his caravan door a few hours later. His first instinct was not to open it, in case it was one of the many people he owed money to. But when he heard a female voice shouting: ‘Anyone in there!’ he opened it a crack and peeped out.

  ‘Can I help you, ladies?’ he asked, staring at the young woman brandishing an envelope.

  Annie handed him Mr Jones’s letter. ‘Who’s this Tara then?’ she said.

  The ringmaster gulped. ‘One minute,’ he said, and he closed the door taking the letter with him.

  He sat down on a rickety old chair and read: We’ve all come to love Shanti and her sweet gentle nature.

  The letter made him feel bad for the way he’d treated the elephant, and even worse when he thought about what could have happened to her daughter. He’d never have separated them if he’d known that Tara might starve. He’d thought Cullen’s Circus would have another elephant from which Tara could nurse.

  Inside Shanti’s headdress we found a note that mentioned ‘Tara’ and I was wondering who this might be and where she is.

  The ringmaster sighed and picked up a letter he had received from Albert instead. Albert had written it on the train from Whitehaven and posted it before he’d got on the boat headed for the Middle East. Every time the ringmaster read the letter it made him feel even more awful about what had happened.

  As I leave for Egypt it seems so, so far away from home, but I know you always have my, and the animals’, best interests at heart … I hope to make you and my father proud.

  Albert had also included a letter for Shanti’s new owner and asked the ringmaster to forward it to him.

  ‘You going to be long?’ Annie called from outside the caravan door.

  ‘One more minute.’ The ringmaster sighed even more loudly as he picked up his pen. He’d be off to fight in the war himself soon enough. He’d decided to enlist and this was his last day in Whitehaven. Cullen’s Circus would be setting up on the field in a few days’ time and he didn’t want to be here when they arrived. It was time to tell Albert and Mr Jones the truth.

  Back at the farm, Yolanda and AJ were getting Shanti’s supper ready.

  ‘She does love her food,’ said Yolanda, as she added maize and carrots to the wheelbarrow.

  ‘But I still think Shanti’s sad,’ AJ said, as he re-filled the elephant’s water barrel. It wasn’t a sadness you could easily see – not an on-the-top sad. Shanti’s unhappiness was buried deep down and didn’t always show – but AJ knew it was there. It was like the heavy heartedness he felt when he thought about his mum, who’d died when he was just a baby.

  Sometimes when AJ felt low-spirited he liked to go off by himself and play the harmonica his grandad had given him. Tunes from the harmonica always sounded mournful to AJ. He didn’t play it in the house much because Yolanda or his dad would ask him what was wrong. And sometimes he just wanted to have time to feel blue.

  He took his harmonica out to Shanti in the barn. Whatever anyone else said, he knew the elephant was sad.

  He wasn’t taking it out to her to try and cheer her up. He couldn’t really even play a tune on it himself apart from ‘London’s Burning’ and a not-quite-right ‘Happy Birthday’. He was taking it with him to let Shanti know he knew she was sad and that it was OK for her to be so.

  Shanti had eaten all her food and was lying on her side on the straw when he pulled open the barn door. But when he came in she half sat up and then lay back down again.

  AJ plonked himself down on a convenient hay bale. Not too near the elephant but not too far away from her either.

  He pulled the harmonica from his pocket pressed it to his lips and blew. Shanti’s eyes flickered, but she didn’t sit up. AJ ran his lips along the harmonica so that all the notes played. He did it again and Shanti’s top ear flapped. He tried playing ‘London’s Burning’ and got it almost right and then ‘Happy Birthday’ and got it mostly wrong.

  ‘AJ,’ Yolanda called. ‘It’s time for dinner.’

  And AJ went, leaving the harmonica on the hay bale.

  It wasn’t much of a stretch for Shanti’s trunk to reach the bale, or for her trunk to feel along it until she found the harmonica. Her breath made it play notes even before she’d properly picked it up.

  AJ smiled to himself as he ate his burnt stew. In the distance, coming from the barn, he could hear the faint sound of an elephant learning to play a harmonica.