Rosy Is My Relative Read Online Free Page B

an awful suspicion.
    “What’s its name?” he asked hoarsely.
    “Rosy,” said the carter, “leastways, that’s what they told me.”
    At the sound of her name the elephant swayed to and fro gently and uttered a small squeak, like the mating cry of a very tiny clarinet. She was shackled inside the dray by two chains padlocked round her front legs, and they made a musical clanking noise when she moved. She stretched out her trunk seductively towards Adrian and blew a small puff of air at him. Oh God, thought Adrian, I’d much rather it was a drunken acrobat.
    “Look here,” he said to the carter, “what am I going to do with her?”
    “That,” said the carter with ill-concealed satisfaction, “is your problem, mate. I was merely engaged to deliver ’er and deliver ’er I ’ave. So now, as I ’aven’t ’ad any breakfast, if you’ll kindly remove ’er from me van, I’ll be on me way.”
    “But you can’t just leave me in the street with an elephant,” Adrian protested.
    “Why not?” enquired the carter simply.
    “But I can’t take her in there,” said Adrian wildly, gesturing at Mrs. Dredge’s six foot square front garden. “She won’t fit, for one thing . . . and she’d tread all the plants down.”
    “Ar, you should ’ave thought of that before you ordered ’er,” said the carter.
    “But I didn’t order her. She was left to me by my uncle,” said Adrian, reflecting as he said it how very unlikely the whole thing sounded.
    “’E couldn’t ’ave liked you very much,” said the carter.
    “Look, do be sensible,” Adrian pleaded. “You can’t just stick an elephant down in front of me and then go off and leave me.”
    “Now you look ’ere,” said the carter in a shaking voice, his face growing purple, “I was engaged to transport an elephant. It was foolish of me, I know, but there we are. I’ve been on the go all night. Every pub we passed she nearly ’ad the dray over. It’s the worst ruddy journey I’ve ever ’ad in twenty-four years’ experience as a carter. And now all I want to do is to get rid of ’er as quickly as possible. So if you’ll kindly remove ’er, I’ll be on me way.”
    Even if he succeeded in getting Rosy into Mrs. Dredge’s front or back garden, Adrian though; how was he to explain the sudden appearance of an elephant? It was too much to hope that Mrs. Dredge would not notice her. But something had to be done, for the carter was adamant and growing more and more purple and restive with each passing moment. Then Adrian had an idea Pucklehammer, he thought, Pucklehammer’s yard. That would be the place to take her.
    “Look,” said Adrian desperately to the carter, “can you take her down the mad a bit? I’ve got a friend who’s got a yard. We can put her in there.”
    The carter sighed deeply. “See ’ere,” he said, “I’ve delivered your elephant to you. I was not asked to deliver it anywhere else but ’ere.”
    “But it’s only just down the road, and it’ll be worth a sovereign to you,” said Adrian.
    “Well, that’s different,” said the carter and he slammed the doors of the dray, shutting off the sight of Rosy, who had picked up a small wisp of straw in her trunk and was daintily fanning herself with it. The carter shouted to his horses, they strained forward, and the massive dray rumbled down the road, with Adrian pacing feverishly beside it, endeavouring to persuade himself that there was nothing Mr. Pucklehammer would like better than an elephant in his yard. He left the carter in the street and went into the yard. Mr. Pucklehammer was still sitting on the coffin, consuming yet another pint of beer.
    “Hello, boy,” he said jovially, “got your acrobat?”
    “Mr. Pucklehammer,” said Adrian in a low, controlled voice, “you’ve got to help me. You are, indeed, the only person I can turn to in what is rapidly becoming a nightmare.”
    “Why, what’s happened, boy?”
    “She . . . it . . . has arrived,” said