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Chapter 33

They ran. Ben and Dawn pushed the elephant’s back legs; Kirsty stood between the front legs, gripping the knees to steer. It was like pushing a huge, hairy shopping trolley. At the end of the alley, the cobbles gave way to road. A car swerved to avoid them and its horn sounded loudly. The elephant picked up speed, gaining momentum until it seemed to be stampeding away from the museum.

‘Did we lose him?’

‘I can’t see him.’

‘Can you hear him?’

‘I dunno, there’s too much noise.’

‘What is that noise?’

‘Oh no. Sirens! Police!’

‘Can they really know so soon?’

‘It must have been the alarm. We have to move. Quick!’

They picked up the pace. The road dipped down a gentle hill. The elephant picked up speed. A man standing outside a pub nearly dropped his phone in amazement as they hurtled past. With a bit of force behind it, the elephant moved through the night as though it were running along by itself. It was almost impossible to steer, though. It careered around corners and veered towards walls; it took all Kirsty’s strength to push it back on course. She was panting heavily with the effort, inhaling great lungfuls of dust and grime from its skin. She could hear Dawn and Ben struggling too.

Chug, chug, chug. There was a new noise thumping through the dark skies.

‘What’s that?’ Kirsty asked, looking around.

‘Uh-oh,’ Ben said. ‘That is a helicopter. A police helicopter. They’re looking for us. We have to get under cover.’

‘They won’t be able to see us,’ Dawn said. ‘It’s too dark.’

Suddenly, a beam of white light shone down from the sky behind them. A searchlight, stretching from the helicopter down to the museum. The light hovered for a moment and then started tracing circles along the ground – a larger and larger spiral as the search spread wider. Somewhere nearby a drunk person yelled something rude at the helicopter.

‘Move!’ Kirsty yelled.

They were sprinting now, pushing as hard as they could, speeding away from the police search behind them. They couldn’t hope to stay hidden. Under a searchlight the elephant would be an obvious shaking mass of stolen animal. They needed darkness. Proper darkness.

‘The park!’ Kirsty said and threw her weight on to the elephant’s left leg, steering them away from the road and towards the park. The river meandered through the centre like a black snake. There were no street lights there, only open grass and small clumps of trees. And, best of all, if you followed the river past the boathouses and old trees you would get to the warehouses, and if you went past the warehouses you would get to the Jubilee Street allotments.

They pushed the elephant through the ornate park gates. The skateboards moved more easily over the wide tarmac path. It was as though the elephant was happier in the park, rolling faster as if it could sense the grass and trees and water around them. Perhaps it was reminded of home after all those years indoors.

The throb of the helicopter was further away now, still hovering over the streets and buildings.

The path ahead was dark. The only light came from the stars, cold and high above.

Then, between gasps, Dawn spoke. ‘We have to get to the allotment. It won’t be long before they find us. It was hardly the most subtle robbery in the world. They’ll be coming. They have to know why we’re doing this, otherwise there’ll be no point to any of it. We’ll just be arrested and that will be that.’

‘Dawn’s right,’ Ben agreed. ‘We have to go down fighting. We have to get there and make a last stand. You know, like the Alamo.’

‘Never heard of it,’ Kirsty said.

‘Or the Charge of the Light Brigade.’

‘Nope.’

‘OK. Try to imagine something pointless but heroic.’

‘Oh, I see. Fine, let’s go.’

And despite their burning lungs and aching arms and the fear of the police helicopter buzzing like a hornet in the sky, they all pushed ahead harder.

Kirsty’s legs felt like unwieldy lumps of stone by the time they reached the warehouses. And when they reached the turning for the allotments, her arms were like sacks of wet sand. She was so tired! But she had to keep moving, for Grandad, for Dad and for Ben and Dawn too. She couldn’t give in now.

Out of the park, they moved through damp, mossy alleyways. The houses on either side were all dark. An occasional security light winked on as they passed and a few cats hissed in the darkness, but no one woke up. The elephant was a tight fit in the final alleyway, the coarse skin of its flanks just skimming the glistening brick walls as they trundled through. Then the path opened out again and the allotments were before them.

‘We have to go to the big gate,’ Kirsty said. ‘Where the trucks get in.’

They followed the wire fence as far as the gate. Together, they managed to heave them open.

‘Shush!’ Ben said suddenly. The sound of the helicopter’s blades slicing through the night sky was louder. It was definitely coming closer.

‘Get inside, now!’ Kirsty hissed. With one final heave, they rolled the elephant on to the track. It slowed to a halt just next to grandad’s painted shed.

‘How can we hide it?’ Ben said. ‘Is there anything in the shed?’

‘We don’t want to hide it,’ Kirsty said.

‘We don’t?’ Dawn was gasping, barely able to speak after the effort of pushing an elephant for nearly three miles cross-country.

‘No. We’re making a statement, aren’t we? Letting Mr Thomas know that we won’t be ignored? How can we do that if no one knows what we’ve done? Stands to reason. I’ve made something. Wait here.’

Kirsty disappeared into the shed. They could hear banging as she looked around in the darkness. Then she re-emerged.

‘Ta-da!’ Kirsty held up the edge of a white sheet that looked more grey in the moonlight. Ben took the opposite edge and stepped back. There was writing on the sheet in dark paint.

‘“The elephant for our allotment Mister Thomas!”’ Ben read. ‘The letters aren’t very straight.’

‘Well, the sheet was bigger than the shed. It was very hard to paint right,’ Kirsty said. ‘It says what we want it to say, doesn’t it?’

‘Hang on,’ Ben said. ‘Is it me, or can anyone hear two helicopters now?’

Kirsty lowered the sheet and listened. Ben was right. The slow throb of two sets of blades, coming from different directions, cut up the night sky. ‘I didn’t know that the local police had two helicopters. Actually, I didn’t even know they had one helicopter,’ she said.

‘I don’t think it is the police,’ Dawn said. ‘Looks like Mum’s going to get her media campaign after all.’ She pointed upwards.

A small helicopter had banked up from the south side of the town. The on-board lights lit up a logo painted on the bottom of the fuselage – ‘Atmo News Channel’ in its familiar chunky font.

‘Oh no,’ Ben said. ‘We’re going to be on the news.’

‘It’s not “oh no”, it’s brilliant! This is a great way for Mr Thomas to see our message. Come on, quick – let’s put the sheet over the elephant, so they can read it.’

Kirsty jumped up, throwing the sheet above her as though she were making a massive bed. Dawn and Ben hurried to help, tweaking and tugging the sheet into place. When they had finished it looked like the elephant was wearing a huge saddle blanket.

The Atmo helicopter swept across the allotments. It didn’t have doors, so they could see a cameraman leaning out, desperate to be the first to capture the news story. The helicopter circled again, lower down. Someone switched on a searchlight that locked on to the colossal shape of the elephant. Kirsty heard whoops of joy coming from the sky above them.

It felt for a moment as though time had stopped, that the elephant was held in the searchlight by a powerful force and that everything around it was frozen too. Dawn, Ben, the elephant, the shed – everything caught in a steady beam of light.

Then the night suddenly became bedlam. Sirens rang out all around. Police cars roared up to the allotment site. The helicopters circled overhead. Lights came on in the houses nearby and the first trickle of people opened their curtains, then their doors, to get a better view.

‘Blimey!’ Kirsty whispered.

Officers in black uniforms slipped out of the squad cars; police formed a cordon around the perimeter fence. Some crouched down behind their cars, others stood calmly, waiting for instructions.

‘I think we might be busted,’ Dawn said.

‘Really? You think?’ There was a high note in Ben’s voice, like the beginning of hysteria. Kirsty reached out her hand and rested it on his shoulder. She gave a little squeeze.

Ben turned to her. In the harsh beam of the searchlights, his eyes seemed wild, his jaw loose somehow. And then Kirsty saw something change as he looked at her. His mouth closed firmly, his eyebrows furrowed. Kirsty realised that Ben was trying his absolute hardest to be brave. And he was managing it!

‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘I know it’s going to be all right.’ Then he stepped away from them and started waving his arms above his head to attract attention. He yelled at the police officers, ‘Listen up. We’ve got the museum’s elephant. It’s ours now. And if you don’t do what we ask, we’ll . . . we’ll kick it! It’s hollow, you know! We’ll kick it and then it will be ruined! No use to anyone. So you’d better listen!’

There was a moment of silence. Then an officer in a peaked hat brought a loudspeaker up to his lips. ‘OK, son. No need to be hasty. We’ll send in a hostage liaison officer to talk to you. You can tell her what this is all about, OK?’

‘No. All we want is for Mr Thomas at the council to give this allotment to my sister. That’s it.’

‘I don’t think I heard you right, son. Did you just say you’ve burgled the museum so that your sister can grow lettuces?’

‘That’s right! So you need to get Mr Thomas down here right now!’

Kirsty and Dawn both stared at Ben in amazement. He smiled at them, a huge, contented smile that seemed to stretch his face wide open. ‘They’re sending in a hostage liaison officer!’ he said. ‘We’ve got a hostage! How cool is that!’

‘Ben, are you all right?’ Kirsty asked. He was grinning at the circle of police as though they were long-lost friends.

‘I’m fine! This is great!’

‘This is a stand-off, right?’ Dawn asked.

‘Yup.’

‘So, all we have to do is wait until Mr Thomas gets here?’

‘I suppose.’

‘Well, then. I’m going to sit down. It could be ages. Come on, let’s get comfy. I brought some food for you. I thought you’d be hungry,’ Dawn said.

Dawn pulled Kirsty and Ben down into the dark space underneath the elephant. There was enough room for the three of them to sit quite comfortably. Dawn opened her bag and pulled out a sandwich box. Kirsty tugged off the lid and began chewing at the cheese butties, her cheeks puffed out like a hamster. Dawn also pulled out her make-up bag.

‘What you messing with that for?’ Ben asked.

‘We’re going to be on the news, aren’t we? In front of the TV cameras? Well, I’m going to look fabulous for it.’

‘TV?’ Kirsty stopped chewing and stared at Dawn with a grin. ‘Do you really think we’ll be on TV?’

‘Hey, look!’ Ben said. He pointed over to where the officer with the loudspeaker stood. Kirsty peered out from under the elephant. There, behind the police cars, was Mum storming up to the site. And Dad was with her! Neither were dressed properly. Mum just had a dressing gown tied around her. Dad had at least pulled on some jeans, but he was walking in his slippers across the path.

Kirsty felt Ben reach for her hand. She squeezed tight. ‘He’s out of bed,’ she said. ‘And he looks pretty interested in what’s going on.’ It suddenly felt like there was nothing else that mattered. The police, the helicopters – it all seemed to fade into the background. The noise and the lights and the action were not important any more. Dad was here.

‘Oh no, look!’ Dawn said. She pointed in the other direction. Angela was forcing her way through the crowd. She was fully dressed and groomed, her make-up done perfectly. She’d been thinking of the telly too, Kirsty thought. Angela was smiling and waving at Dad. Dad half-raised his hand back. Angela reached the car where Mum and Dad stood. They were talking, but Kirsty was too far away to hear their conversation.

‘What do you suppose they’re saying?’ Kirsty asked.

‘Oh, you know. A lifetime’s grounding. Shut in our rooms till we’re old enough to vote. Bread and water for every meal till Doomsday.’ Ben shrugged and bit into a chocolate bar that he’d found in the sandwich box.

‘Do you really think so?’

Dawn was silent for a moment. Then she sighed deeply. ‘I think they’re doing their best to get us out of trouble with the police. They love us, don’t they?’

‘Dad looks quite angry now,’ Kirsty said, reaching for another cheese sandwich.

Dawn peered out from behind the elephant’s leg. Dad was slapping the bumper of a police car. Someone had given Mum a mug of tea.

‘Any sign of the council yet?’ Ben asked.

Suddenly the loudspeaker crackled into life. ‘This is impossible!’ a voice blustered. Kirsty looked out. It was Mr Thomas. He was here. He walked forwards, his slippers flapping as he climbed over a row of leeks. ‘This is ridiculous!’ he bellowed. ‘Preposterous! I’ve been woken up in the middle of the night! So has Mrs Thomas! And for what? An escaped elephant ransomed by some cheeky monkeys!’

‘Does he mean us?’

‘Yup.’

Mr Thomas was closer now and still yelling.

‘We have to give him our demands,’ Ben said. ‘Do you want me to do it?’

‘No. I’ll do it,’ Kirsty said. ‘But it would be nice if you’d stand near me, both of you.’

Kirsty stepped out. Ben and Dawn followed and stood right beside her. She took a deep breath. ‘Mr Thomas,’ she said. ‘Mum, Dad. Everyone. We took the elephant for a reason. Not just for fun. Although it was fun. We want to keep Grandad’s allotment. We want you all to listen to us. Especially Dad. Dad, we love you and we want you back. That’s all.’

Mr Thomas stopped walking. The loudspeaker hung down by his side. A ripple ran through the police officers as Kirsty spoke. Dad sat down on the bonnet of the car. Would they listen? Would they understand?

And then, Mr Thomas began to chuckle – slowly at first, but then louder and louder until he was clutching his sides and crying. ‘They stole a ruddy elephant! A great, big elephant!’ he gasped.

Dad gasped. ‘They ruddy did too!’ Dad stood shakily and walked out towards them. He held open his arms. He looked so thin and pale in the glow of the searchlight. Kirsty ran forward. Dad scooped her into the air and held her close. She could feel the rough growth of his beard against her cheek as she hugged him back.

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered.

Kirsty could hear Mr Thomas still giggling to himself as she closed her eyes against Dad’s shoulder. He carried her back to Ben and Dawn. She could feel them hugging her too. She squeezed Dad as hard as she could.

For the next hour, the police officers scribbled in their pads; Dawn answered questions in front of a few television cameras; Ben snuggled inside a warm blanket, holding a white mug full of hot tea.

Kirsty sat on an upturned bucket as she watched the elephant being driven away on a truck. The sky was getting lighter, the stars winking out one by one like the candles on an old man’s birthday cake. The sun would rise soon. She lay her palms down on to the grass and pushed against the earth. What would happen now? To the allotment? To them? The earth was damp and cold from the gathering dew. The allotments were emptying out. Soon there would be no sign that any of this had ever happened.

Kirsty stood up and wiped her wet hands on the front of her shirt, then went to find her family.