Up Close and Personal (15 page)

‘Of course not.’ Zoe licked her lips salaciously. ‘I might want to watch, though.’

Connor laughed wolfishly. ‘That’s fine by me.’

‘So, are you up for it – yes or no?’

Connor stared down at the fox head that was lying in his lap. Despite his initial reservations, he was beginning to find the idea of furring rather arousing. ‘Go on, then,’ he said. ‘But I’m warning you, if we get there and I feel at all uncomfortable, I’m leaving. Understood?’

‘Understood,’ she said solemnly.

‘Oh, and one more thing – how am I supposed to, you know, perform? These costumes are pretty snug.’

Zoe smiled. ‘I’ve come prepared.’ Reaching into the glovebox, she removed a small tool the size of a pencil. She pulled off the plastic cap at one end to reveal a curved metal blade.

Connor squinted at the device. ‘What’s that?’

‘A seam ripper. Every furvert’s best friend.’ Without warning, Zoe grabbed the crotch of Connor’s fox costume and hooked the instrument into the stitching.

‘Hey, be careful with that! I might want to have more kids one day.’

‘Relax, I’m an old hand.’ Zoe tugged gently at the seam and soon she’d created a two-inch tear.

‘Hmm, is that going to be long enough?’ she said, inspecting her handiwork. ‘You’re quite a big boy, so I’d better give you a bit more room to manoeuvre.’

‘Won’t the fancy-dress shop be a bit pissed off when they get these back?’ Connor asked as Zoe extended the tear by another inch.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll sew the seam back up before I return them.’ Zoe spread her legs and performed a similar operation on the crotch of her own all-in-one. ‘Although, if the costumes get really dirty, they’ll probably charge us extra for dry-cleaning.’

‘
Dirty?
’

Zoe giggled. ‘Use your imagination.’

A few minutes later, the pair were driving down one of the twisting country lanes that criss-crossed Loxwood. Connor had decided to leave his car in the lay-by. Costume or not, he didn’t want to risk being recognized. After a couple of miles, Zoe turned off onto a dirt track. After half a mile or so, it came to an abrupt end, the way ahead
blocked by a high wire fence. A dozen or so vehicles were parked at the side of the track. Worried that someone might recognize him, Connor pulled his fox head on.

A few feet away was a Toyota pick-up. Beside it, a six-foot stag was deep in conversation with a giant mouse.

‘I think that’s Harvey and his wife Anne,’ Zoe said. ‘They’re the organizers.’ She wound down the window. ‘Harvey, is that you?’

The stag strolled over. ‘Yeah, hi, Zoe, glad you could make it.’

‘This is my friend Connor.’

Harvey bent down to peer through the window, wincing as his foam antlers smashed against the car’s soft-top. ‘Damn these bloody things,’ he muttered as he took a step back and bent down again.

‘Nice to meet you,’ Connor said. His gaze drifted to the mouse, who now had her back to them and was rummaging for something in the back of the pick-up. Her costume was very tight and showed off her slender waist and full buttocks to mouth-watering effect. Connor swallowed hard. There was no getting away from it: the rodent was hot. He turned his attention back to Harvey. ‘Where’s everyone else?’

‘They’ve gone ahead to the woods. I said I’d wait here to collect any stragglers.’

Zoe glanced at the clock on the dash. ‘Shit, I didn’t realize we were so late. Sorry, Harvey. Connor’s a first-timer. He was having a few last-minute nerves, but I managed to talk him round.’

‘I’m very pleased to hear it. You don’t need to be nervous, Connor; we’re a friendly bunch.’

Suddenly, the mouse appeared at Harvey’s side. ‘We’re not expecting anyone else now,’ she said in a husky voice. ‘Shall we join the others?’

‘Yeah,’ Harvey replied. ‘Come on, guys, let’s get this party started.’

It was only a short walk to the woods and Connor was amazed by what he saw there. In a clearing, illuminated by the soft glow from dozens of outdoor candles, around thirty furverts were congregated. Most were chatting in small groups, but two of their number – a squirrel and a wolf – were openly fondling on a plastic groundsheet that had been scattered with hay. Two stags were watching from the sidelines. One, Connor couldn’t help noticing, was sporting an erection.

‘Couldn’t you two hang on till everyone was here?’ Harvey said in a jocular tone as he turned off his torch and set it down on a nearby tree stump. The wolf looked up. ‘Sorry, mate, we couldn’t help ourselves.’

Harvey clapped his hands together and called for silence. ‘Now listen up, everyone, we’ve got a first-timer here tonight.’ He turned and patted Connor on the shoulder. ‘So I’d like you all to be very gentle with him.’

Connor raised a paw. The evening was growing more surreal by the minute. ‘Hi, everyone.’

All at once, a bunny rabbit stepped forward out of the shadows. Her costume was more cartoon-like than Zoe’s and instead of a full head she was wearing a pair of pink ears on a headband and her face was skilfully made up with paint. ‘I’ll take care of you, Mr Fox,’ she said, going up to Connor and linking her arm through his. ‘Would you like to see my burrow?’

‘You bet I would,’ said Connor. The night was still young, but he had a feeling he was going to enjoy this furring lark.

It was nearly two hours since Bear and Nicole had begun their vigil, but disappointingly they had yet to sight a single badger. To pass the time, they talked about all sorts of things: their childhoods, their families, their favourite films. Nicole was intrigued to discover that Bear had been privately educated before starting work as a gopher at his local paper.

‘How did you end up specializing in the environment?’ she asked as she sipped tea from a plastic cup.

‘Pure chance,’ he replied. ‘Although I prefer to think of it as fate.’ He picked up the Thermos and gave them both a top-up. ‘Do you believe in fate, Nicole?’

‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘At least I think I do.’

‘So do I,’ Bear said. He looked into her eyes as if searching for something, the way a teacher might look into the eyes of a child to see if they were telling the truth. Feeling self-conscious, Nicole turned away and fiddled with the buckle on her boot. ‘Anyway, you still haven’t answered my question.’

Bear shook his head. ‘Sorry, where was I? Oh yes, fate’s hand in my career. Okay, well, after my stint as a gopher, I got a job as a junior reporter at a local paper up in Yorkshire. One day, I was sent to interview a group of protesters who were claiming squatters’ rights on an area of woodland that was scheduled for clearance to make way for a new bypass. They were living in tree houses and surviving on food donations from sympathetic members of the public. Some of them had been there for months. It was such a great story that my news editor suggested
I join the camp for a week and write a daily column for the paper.’

‘Ooh, that must have been an exciting assignment for a rookie reporter,’ said Nicole.

‘I’m afraid I didn’t see it that way, at least not at first. There was no running water or electricity at the site, and the toilet was a hole in the ground. I’d never even been camping before, so it was all a bit of a culture shock. But, within a few days, my view had completely changed. The passion and commitment of those protesters was unlike anything I’d ever seen before. That piece of woodland was so important to them they were prepared to do anything to save it, even if it meant putting the rest of their lives on hold.’ Bear’s eyes took on a distant look, as if he were imagining himself back at the camp. ‘And then, when they explained to me just what a huge environmental impact the loss of the woodland would have, I started to feel that passion myself – so much so that by the end of the week I’d forgotten I was a journalist; I was a protester just like the others, and I made up my mind that I’d do everything in my power to help them. Luckily, my column proved a big hit with the paper’s readers, so when the week was up I persuaded my editor to let me stay on. After that, the column seemed to take on a life of its own. My daily reports helped attract huge publicity for the campaign, and people from all over the county started turning up at the site to lend their support.’

Nicole’s eyes grew round. ‘Wow, that’s amazing. How long were you there for in the end?’

‘Seven weeks – and I would’ve stayed longer, even if it meant losing my job.’

‘So what happened?’

‘When the bailiffs realized we were in it for the long haul, they dropped their softly, softly approach and moved in with their wretched cherry pickers. It was six in the morning; most of us were still asleep. Against strong-arm tactics like that, we were powerless.’

‘So the bypass went ahead?’

‘Yep, and another precious piece of countryside was lost forever.’

Nicole winced. ‘Oh dear, I thought there was going to be a happy ending.’

‘Not that time unfortunately, but the campaign had a profound impact on me. My column ended up winning quite a prestigious journalism award and as a result I started getting commissions from the nationals. Eventually, I packed in my job at the newspaper and became a freelance.’

‘What a great story,’ said Nicole, smiling. ‘Your work sounds fascinating. It makes my life seem terribly dull by comparison.’

‘Oh come on, Nicole; you’re bringing up a child. How can your life be dull?’

‘Don’t get me wrong – I love Tilly to bits – it’s just that sometimes I think being a wife and a mother isn’t enough.’ Nicole sighed. ‘I suppose I shouldn’t really complain. I have a very comfortable life; Connor’s a fantastic provider. Tilly and I don’t want for anything.’

‘And what about your emotional needs?’

Nicole was taken aback. She wasn’t used to being questioned in such a direct way, especially not by someone she’d only just met. She knew that the sensible thing to do would be to lie – to smile politely and say that, yes, her marriage
was perfectly fulfilling and Connor was a dutiful and attentive husband, thank you very much. But she didn’t.

‘Connor’s your typical alpha male, so sensitivity’s not his strong point,’ she said in a quiet voice. ‘His work takes up a lot of his time and emotional energy. I don’t think he has much left to give by the time he comes home at the end of the day – or at least that’s the way it seems.’

Bear’s face crumpled in concern. ‘Oh dear, that doesn’t sound very good.’

Just then, Nicole caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. ‘Oh my God, I think I just saw a badger,’ she said in an excited whisper.

Tossing his plastic cup of tea aside, Bear sprang to his feet and shone his torch into the woods. ‘Where? I can’t see anything.’

‘Over there,’ said Nicole, pointing to the left. As Bear swung the torch, its beam picked out the glinting amber eyes of a tawny owl that was perched on a low branch. It stared at them for a few seconds before taking flight on soft, silent wings.

‘Hmm,’ said Nicole as she stared after the bird. ‘I guess I was wrong.’

Bear frowned. ‘The badgers should be out well before sunset. I wonder if something’s scared them away.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘We may as well call it a day. Your husband will probably be wondering where you are.’

‘I doubt it,’ Nicole said under her breath.

They didn’t say much to one another as they trekked back across the strawberry field. Now that it was dark, the field had become treacherous with its hidden furrows and trails
of rotting vegetation. Nicole’s progress in her high-heeled boots was painfully slow. She trod carefully, not wanting to risk turning her ankle – for how would she explain
that
to Connor? Despite her caution she nearly lost her footing a couple of times and was disappointed when, instead of offering her his hand, Bear simply asked if she was okay and waited for her to catch up. They were halfway to the boundary fence when he suddenly stopped in his tracks and lifted his nose in the air like a beagle scenting a fox.

‘Did you hear that?’ he said.

Nicole listened. At first there was only silence, but then she heard the unmistakeable sound of laughter. She looked back towards the copse. Through the trees, she could just make out some flickering yellow lights. More noises drifted through the thin night air, though these ones seemed less human: a series of sharp yelps, followed by a high-pitched keening. ‘I wonder what’s going on over there,’ she said. ‘Whatever it is, they seem to be enjoying themselves.’

Bear’s jaw tightened. ‘Badger-baiting,’ he said grimly. ‘I’d put money on it.’

‘Goodness, does that sort of thing still go on?’

‘Yes, unfortunately. Thousands of animals die every year in the name of the so-called “sport” – not just the badgers themselves, but the terriers they send down into the sett to catch them. It’s one of the most brutal activities imaginable, but I’ll spare you the grisly details.’ Bear rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘No wonder we didn’t see any badgers. They’ll have sensed the danger and gone to ground.’

‘Should we call the police?’

Bear gave a hard laugh. ‘By the time the cops get here, those guys will be long gone – and in any case, we’re
trespassing, remember? We’d probably end up getting arrested ourselves.’ He stared at the flickering lights in the distance. They seemed to be coming from the very heart of the copse, where he knew there were likely to be other entrances to the sett. ‘I’m going to take a look,’ he said.

Nicole felt a twinge of anxiety. ‘You’re not going to do anything silly, are you?’

‘Don’t worry, I’ll keep my distance. They won’t even know I’m there. I just want to get a fix on their location and see how many of them there are. At least then I’ll be able to report them to the Badger Protection League.’ He pushed the torch into her hands. ‘Why don’t you go on through the fence and wait for me on the other side? I won’t be long.’

Nicole shook her head. ‘No, I’m coming with you.’

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea. The people involved in this sort of thing are vicious thugs. If they see us, they’ll probably set their dogs on us.’

‘But they aren’t
going
to see us, are they?’ Nicole said as she began walking purposefully back towards the copse. ‘Come on.’

Bear sighed. Then, after a few seconds’ hesitation, he set off after her.