Читать книгу The Animal House - M.D. Milton-Smith - Страница 4

Lady Speaker led the girl down a series of narrow corridors carpeted in green and adorned with portraits of important looking animals. It was difficult to keep up with the rabbit, as she hopped this way and that. They rushed past doors with brass plaques with names such as “The Queen’s Chamber,” and “The Prime Minister’s Suite.”

Lucy saw creatures scuttling back and forth, piled high with documents and folders labelled with “Cabinet-in-Confidence” and “Memorandum of Understanding.” She almost tripped on a small brown field mouse that declared, “Pardon, oh pardon me!” sending documents into a flurry as he ran past.

Finally, the rabbit and the girl arrived at a grand entrance. Lady Speaker whispered to Lucy, “this is the House of Representatives — where every decision affecting every animal is made.”

Lady Speaker turned the polished brass handles and the great doors parted. A thunderous roar resounded through the chamber. Never had Lucy seen so many animals gathered. Creatures of all colours and breeds sat in rows. A kaleidoscope of feathers cascaded from the upper gallery, as a pink galah swooped down and landed on a circular bench, which formed the first of many rows.

Moments later, a scrawny weasel scurried in, casting suspicious glances over his shoulder, before meandering over to a leopard, which gingerly licked a vermilion stain from his paw. Lucy saw the great cat look in Lady Speaker’s direction, as he hissed wryly to the weasel, “Mmm, rabbit season!” Despite looking the other way, Lucy was certain that she heard the softest of “thumps” coming from the rabbit’s direction.

As Lucy looked around, she felt the heavy gaze of other animals staring back. She saw a mother duck whisper excitedly to her brood, and a grey goose gossiping with a prairie dog, which immediately looked in the girl’s direction.

Lady Speaker whispered, “Follow me,” and the pair made their way to the front. Silence befell the chamber as the rabbit leaped onto a great chair made of carved mahogany, with a coat of arms at its head and a green velvet seat. A black Scottish terrier placed a green cushion on the floor beside it and directed Lucy to sit.

“These are testing times," Lady Speaker began, addressing the circular rows of animals. “There are those among us who believe in the importance of pure breeds and seek to exclude other animals from Parliament.”

Lucy saw feathers fly and claws stretch. Sensing a cold gaze, she turned to see a brown spoodle studying her. The dog, named Mr Hughes, looked away as soon as their eyes met, and muttered in the ear of his off-sider, Contessa — an immaculately preened King Charles Cavalier. Contessa surveyed Lucy and turned up her little black nose.

The chamber erupted into a raucous, and Lady Speaker cried, “Order, order!” Different animals, in turn, offered their contributions to the debate. A majestic peacock raised the problematic implications of excluding others from Parliament. “It is a regressive and discriminatory policy!” he boldly declared, as a mottled cat called Mr Mog slinked into the shadows.

But then the spoodle took the stand. “My dear associates!” he languidly purred, “I am sure that all of us can appreciate the need for…” he carefully chose his words, “the purity and integrity of our nation’s leaders.” A small cohort of animals applauded, led by Contessa who was clearly in rapture. “Politics,” the spoodle continued, “is murky enough without adding mutts into the equation.”

The session proceeded, with arguments emphatically made in favour and against the purity of breeds. As the discussion became more heated, boos and hisses emanated from the back benches. Lady Speaker drew the meeting to a close, declaring that the bill proposed by Mr Hughes required further deliberation, and would be reviewed at a more opportune time.

The Hansardist tabled the close of the sitting, and the animals poured out of the chamber. As the banter trailed down the corridor, Lady Speaker collected her papers and switched off the great chandelier that hung high above the parliament and acted as a bright beacon of justice and revelation. In the dark, the chamber had a very different feel, as ominous shadows gave the space a spectral quality. The rabbit silently observed the girl and then simply said, “Let us go.”

The hour was late, and the last of the pink galahs were settling into their nests for the evening. Mr and Mrs Platt would be completing their ablutions and preparing for bed, thinking that Lucy was having a merry old time at her sleepover with “that lovely Bronny.”

“It is late, and you must be famished,” said Lady Speaker. “I have something warm for you on my stove.”

And so, with no other plans, Lucy gratefully accepted Lady Speaker’s invitation. She followed the rabbit down through a series of tunnels, far beneath the Animal House. It was a secret world that Lucy could never have imagined in her wildest dreams. All of her senses were intensified — attuned to the heady scent of overgrown moss, and the magnified sounds of dripping pipes and scuttling beasts. In this dark and unfamiliar realm, the girl had no option but to trust the rabbit, who led her further and further away from the world she knew.

Finally, they arrived at a round wooden door. A bronze plate stated, “Speaker’s Residence.” As Lady Speaker welcomed her in, Lucy looked around in wonder. She had never been inside a rabbit’s burrow before. It had low vaulted ceilings and flickering lanterns affixed to walls that lit up portraits of rabbits in corduroy jackets and feathered hats. Many of them had bronze plates with descriptions such as “Judge Thomas James and Dame Allegra Rose at the Duke’s Garden Party” or “Senators Oliver, Daniel and Nicholas in the Conservatory.”

Lucy determined that some must be Lady Speaker’s ancestors, for they had her characteristic caramel hued fur. In one painting, an elegant rabbit wore a top hat and tails — he looked rather imperial! The lady next to sported pearls with an aquamarine clasp, her nose pointed towards the sky with some degree of regality.

Lady Speaker disappeared into the kitchen, and after making loud clattering sounds returned with a china pot clad in a purple knitted tea cosy. She directed Lucy to a dainty chaise and served her tea. The rabbit finished slurping from her teacup and turned to address the girl.

“We have waited for you for a very long time. Now that you are here, please allow me to tell you how everything began.” Lady Speaker dimmed the lanterns, casting shadows on the faces of all the rabbits that peered down at them from the walls.

“Some years ago,” she began, “this majestic building functioned as the humans’ Parliament House. It was their seat of government — a place where decisions were made and laws implemented that affected every living creature in the land.” The rabbit looked away wistfully. “Then one day, the humans decided that this House was too small for them. So, a bill was passed and a new parliament was built, just over the hill.”

Lady Speaker pointed to a souvenir postcard pinned to a board with the bold caption: “Welcome to Parliament House,” above a picture of a grand white building surrounded by manicured lawns.

“The new parliament was much larger than this and fitted with the finest marble sourced from far and wide.” The rabbit looked wistfully away. “So, this building was left abandoned for years. It was then that it became known as the Old Parliament House.”

The pair shared a long moment of silence. Lucy politely sipped her tea, as the rabbit surveyed the portraits of dignitaries that lined her walls. “Grand Kings and Queens once graced our halls,” she paused, “after time they stopped arriving on our steps, for a new, more extravagant parliament had been built. This House was boarded up, and its opulent fixtures were left just as they were, frozen in time.”

Lucy had been quietly taking it all in. However, there were still many things left unexplained. “And so how did it come to be occupied by…um…” she carefully considered her words.

“…animals?” asked Lady Speaker.

“Indeed,” blushed Lucy.

“Well now, my father John discovered it quite by accident!” Lucy followed Lady Speaker’s gaze to a portrait of a handsome rabbit in a grey Gatsby hat. “Pop was burrowing down by the river one day. As he was making his way back up to the surface, he suddenly cried “up periscope!” for he had found himself right in the centre of Queen’s Hall!” Lucy quietly chuckled, as she imagined a family of rabbits waltzing merrily in this fine vestibule.

“And so, we made this place our home.” Lady Speaker paused thoughtfully. “Before long, we were joined by others that had found their way in — first the pink galahs that swooped down through the cracked windows, and then the millipedes somersaulted down from the roof! My father became the first Speaker of the new Animal House.”

Lady Speaker hesitated and then offered, “You may recall Mr Hughes, the ‘sprightly’ spoodle who was somewhat vocal in Parliament?”

Lucy thought that the term “sprightly” was something of an understatement, given the dog’s aggressive approach to parliamentary debate.

“It is not something I speak of widely, but I feel it is important for you to know,” the rabbit continued. “Mr Hughes found his way here many years ago, but of course back then he did not have a name. My father was locking up the House one winter’s night. It was freezing outside, and great gusts of wind were battering the doors. As he turned to come inside, something caught his eye — a little brown tail poking out from a crumpled blanket.”

Lady Speaker looked rather forlorn. “The puppy had been abandoned — he would have surely frozen to death if he had stayed out there. So, my parents took him in until he was old enough to make his way.”

The rabbit paused for some time before continuing. “To this day, very few animals are aware of this. Mr Hughes never mentions his past — he is a very proud creature indeed. Sadly, I think it is one of the reasons that he resents me. He knows that I know where he came from. Prime Minister or otherwise, to me he will always be that scared and shivering pup.”

“Prime Minister?” questioned Lucy.

“Indeed. Mr Hughes has been elected to make decisions on behalf of us all.”

Lady Speaker signed then gently nipped the girl’s toes. “I’m afraid it is what it is. It has been an eventful day Lucy and you need your rest, for tomorrow the Queen arrives.”