Oy Yew (The Waifs of Duldred Trilogy Book 1) Page 14

  Everyone nodded. They took their places equally spaced around the table, hands clasped behind their backs. Inch appeared in the doorway. She looked around the room and sniffed. ‘Who’s put you in here then?’

  ‘Extra guests,’ said Lucinda. ‘It needs a bigger room.’

  ‘Why they leave a job like this to you I don’t know,’ said Inch. ‘It’s musty in here and you haven’t even got a fire going.’ She walked over to the fireplace and struck a match.

  ‘Don’t!’ Lucinda moved towards her.

  ‘Don’t you “don’t” me milady, ’less you want a kick in that scrawny behind.’

  The fire caught and crackled.

  ‘The guests will be here any minute,’ said Lucinda.

  ‘I’m going but I’ll catch you later Miss Thinks-she’s-somebody.’

  As Jeopardine neared the Mirror Room he began to frown. There were no waifs to be seen. He would have to open the doors himself. All eyes were on him as he began folding back one three-panelled door and then moved across to the other one.

  ‘Do come through and sample Duldred’s hospitality.’ He waved his arm at a cold and empty room. His face took on a crazed smile. ‘Lucinda!’ he called in a high, cracked voice. Lucinda appeared at his side. ‘Where are the refreshments?’

  ‘Rook’s Parlour, sir. You said we was to serve the misses and guests in there.’

  The Master’s face split in two. For Lucinda his eyes held fifty harsh punishments. For his guests a bland smile remained.

  ‘Never mind,’ said Miss Spindle, stepping in to save Jeopardine’s embarrassment. ‘Rook’s Parlour. I would certainly be interested to see another of your fine rooms. It’s been renovated recently, I believe. This way isn’t it? Lead on child.’

  Gritty and Gertie opened the doors. The impoverished Lacklanders gasped at the table laden with food and blazing with candles. The party set to; even the wittering of Miss Spindle ceased as they ate. The waifs waited tensely by the sideboard, their eyes and ears bent in one direction over the heads of the guests.

  Alas picked his way along the final roof ridge. There were the Rook’s Parlour chimneys: heavy, bowl-shaped, crowned and fretted on top. He peered into the dark tunnel of the north chimney and scratched his arm where the rash was flaring. He straddled the narrow hole and climbed in.

  It was tight. Bricks and panic squeezed his stomach. He thought of all the waifs who had ever slaved at Duldred and in the factory, all the names he had seen in the ledgers, and for their sakes he let himself down into the darkness. If anything the chimney seemed to get even narrower. Soon he was wedged so snug he could barely breathe. He began to struggle. Air – if he could just get his head back out for a minute. But the chimney would not let him up, only down. There was nothing for it but to go on. He made himself as small as possible and gravity did the rest. Oggit by oggit he edged downwards, scraping skin from his spine and shins as he went.

  The party had almost sated and slaked its appetites. Jeopardine had done his best to hurry them through the meal, ordering courses to be cleared so quickly that the waifs had to wrest the plates from the puzzled guests. Now they had reached the dessert a light chatter had begun. Lucinda and Lizbuth stacked plates at the sideboard with their backs to the room.

  ‘He’d better hurry,’ whispered Lizbuth, ‘they’re nearly done.’

  Elyut came up behind them. ‘He must be stuck.’

  There was a sound like muffled coughing. Lucinda turned around to see Jeopardine staring hard at the chimney breast. She looked back at the fire which was taking hold, the flames curving over the logs and rising up the chimney. She closed her eyes.

  ‘Without Master Jeopardine these children would be left to scavenge and forage on the street like so many stray animals. It’s quite likely that many of them would never see adulthood,’ Miss Spindle enthused.

  ‘I do what I can,’ said Jeopardine, distractedly.

  ‘I can certainly recommend the system to you in Lackland, yet I do feel that its success depends so much on having the right master. Strength and authority are needed, but also a caring disposition.’

  Thuds and scrapings overlay her words. The party paused, glasses and spoons aloft. The Master chewed furiously behind the bridge of his hands. There was a rumble and a sudden dark dampening of the fire. Miss Spindle was at the head of the table nearest the fireplace. She turned and peered through the puff of smoke and then she screamed. Among the twigs and soot were bony fingers and a smoke-tarnished skull.

  Chaos followed. Lucinda dashed to the fire and hurled water, jug and all into it. There was hissing and more smoke. Jeopardine leapt from his seat and began ushering the visitors out of the room.

  ‘These things will happen in old houses. Not pleasant, but one of those things. Do bring your drinks.’ He grabbed Larkin in the hallway. ‘Get Baracula, now!’

  As the room emptied, Lucinda took hold of the skull. She looked into its sockets and laid it carefully to one side. The other waifs watched solemnly. Lucinda shovelled hot ashes out of the grate and stuck her head up the chimney. ‘Alas, are you alright?’

  He coughed in reply.

  ‘It’s done. Get out, quick as you can!’

  ‘I’m stuck.’ His voice was full of dread.

  ‘You can’t be.’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘What can we do?’

  Oy came forward and leaned into the chimney. ‘Alas. You got in there, so you can get out again.’

  ‘He didn’t.’

  ‘Don’t think about that now. Think small and slippery. You’re a slither fish; you know how they jump right out of your hands.’ There was a grating sound and a shower of soot freckled Oy’s face. ‘That’s it, you’re slipping and slithering down.’ Oy moved aside just as a heap of branches and bones fell into the hearth.

  ‘I’m moving. Get that… that thing, out of the way. I’m coming down.’

  Alas fell into the fireplace tangling with Oy who ended up as black as Alas.

  Miss Spindle came back into the room, with one hand over her mouth, stopping and starting in confusion and fright. ‘Oh dear,’ she said, looking from Alas to the waifs to the bones and back again. ‘This is most distressing. A child is it? Would you happen to know the identity of the unfortunate individual?’

  ‘Owin Bracket, miss,’ said Lucinda. ‘Chimneys waif.’

  ‘Oh yes. I recall the name. Oh dear, dear, dear.’

  ‘He’s not the only one, miss,’ Alas butted in. ‘Whatever Master tells you, don’t believe him.’

  ‘Miss Spindle.’ She spun around. It was Raymun. ‘If you’d be good enough, Master would like to see you in the Lily Lounge.’

  2 3 Proposals

  ‘Please Gwendalyn, be so good as to sit and listen.’ Jeopardine fixed his gaze on her eyes so as not to dwell on the weak chin and long nose. ‘I’ve carried this with me for so long. Many times I have been tempted to lay all before you, but I was afraid. Can you guess why I feared your reaction, and no one else’s?’

  ‘Jeremiah, I...’

  ‘Well I am tired of hiding my feelings. Let me tell all. What you have just seen was the result of a tragic and most distressing accident.’

  ‘Liar,’ said Gritty, rather loudly, in the hatch.

  ‘Ssh,’ said Gertie.

  ‘True, I deceived you in order to cover up what had happened. I did it for one reason only, because I dreaded your condemnation. There had been an unusual spate of accidents, but that is how fate operates; I have often noted the clustering of such events. I feared that you would think badly of me. I know how strictly you stick to your duties. It is all part of your admirable nature. And I, I do my best; but waifs are so careless. It is impossible, at all times, to protect them from themselves.’

  ‘Scoundrel,’ said Gritty.

  ‘You are telling me that the death was an accident, but you reported it as a leaving,’ said Miss Spindle. ‘This is really very serious. I should call my assistant and have this in writing.’

  ‘
No – I mean of course, as you see fit, only do not look on me so coldly. Dear Gwendalyn,’ he touched her arm, ‘I only wished to spare myself this pain for as long as possible and t-to keep my hopes alive.’

  ‘Your hopes, Jeremiah?’

  ‘Can you believe I once thought of... I once dreamed of making you my wife?’

  ‘Oh….’ Miss Spindle grew limp.

  ‘Poor thing,’ said Gertie, ‘she’s gone to pieces.’

  Jeopardine lowered one eyelid a fraction. ‘Don’t speak. Let us walk. Walk with me and consider what you will do with me. I am in your hands. Let us go to the orchid bowers.’

  Miss Spindle paused. ‘Jeremiah.’

  ‘Yes, Gwendalyn.’

  ‘This is very sudden. If what you say is true – well, I have heard certain things concerning female visitors here. I wonder why you have not yet asked me to see your bone collection?’

  ‘Ah,’ he placed his hand over his heart, ‘I have longed to do just that, but you have always seemed so cool, so indifferent. How could I make such a leap without a sign from you? Would you, could I show it to you now?’

  She nodded and he led her out with fawning delight.

  ‘No hatch in the Bone Room,’ said Gritty. ‘We’ll have to wait till they come out. Why can’t she see through him?’

  There was a long wait before the couple emerged from the Bone Room. As they walked back towards the Lily Lounge upservants and waifs melted around corners, a heel here, a trailing skirt there.

  Gritty and Gertie fell over each other to get back to the hatch.

  ‘And of all the exhibits, which one did you prefer?’ Jeopardine was saying, watching her carefully with sideways eyes.

  ‘The rabidus and the battles are impressive, yet I was most drawn to the miniatures. Those tiny skeletons, delicate as lace; the thumb-sized birds and even smaller fish, but best of all I liked the timpanus of the Affland field mouse.’

  ‘You are a woman of great taste. It has always been my favourite but no woman has yet seen the charm of it.’ He dropped in cautious stages to one knee. His hip clicked, but it did not lock. He seized her hand and asked: ‘Gwendalyn, will you marry me?’

  ‘Don’t do it,’ whispered Gritty.

  The inspector’s eyes welled. ‘Everyone makes mistakes and everyone deserves another chance. Yes Jeremiah, I will marry you. Yes, yes and yes.’ She swallowed a joyful sob and fell into his arms. There they stood until she had collected herself. Then she pulled back and looked into his face. ‘There shall be no secrets between us. The shock I received just now in Rook’s Parlour reminded me of another shock I had as a young woman. My first beau, you know, killed by a runaway cart horse. It caused me to lose all of my hair. If we are to be married you must see me as I am.’

  ‘Really, it’s not necessary.’

  She put a finger to his lips. ‘Behold your unadorned Gwendalyn.’ With a sweep she pulled off her wig.

  ‘Even more beautiful!’ he exclaimed, clutching her to him while he mastered his face. Then bravely, he held her at arm’s length. ‘My own napless shaveling!’

  She gazed at him rapturously. ‘Dear, do you really find me more beautiful without the wig?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then shall I… shall I face the world without it?’

  ‘No,’ he said hastily. ‘I… I only say that to protect you from unnecessary pain. Ideas of beauty are very narrow in the world and I would not have you mocked.’

  ‘I would bear it for you.’

  ‘Please Gwendalyn, don’t think of it.’

  ‘Then when we are alone.’

  ‘You might catch a chill.’ She shrank a little. ‘Well perhaps in the heat of summer then.’

  ‘Who would have thought,’ she said, becoming pensive, ‘that such happiness would come from tragedy?’

  ‘Tragedy? I wouldn’t put it so strongly. Don’t forget they are only Porians. They don’t feel fear and pain as we do.’

  ‘They?’

  ‘He. He was only a Porian. A workhorse sometimes dies in its harness; it is no tragedy.’

  ‘It is at least an inconvenience and a loss to the owner.’

  Gertie and Gritty could not see each other but they felt the same flush of warmth under the skin. It felt like shame to know how they were regarded.

  ‘So for you, dear, I intend to investigate these accidents fully,’ Miss Spindle said. ‘There’s a mystery here and I intend to solve it.’

  There was a tap on the door. It was Raymun. ‘Mr Baracula’s here, sir.’

  ‘I forbid you to move,’ Jeopardine told Miss Spindle. ‘I’ll be right back.’

  The girls watched as Miss Spindle moved around the room, hugging herself, laughing, staring out of the window, doubting, looking wet-eyed at the ceiling, laughing again.

  Jeopardine came back very quickly. He looked relieved to see that she was still there. He leaned his back against the door and took a deep breath before advancing into the room again.

  ‘Now, what you were saying about investigating. I won’t hear of it. You are to think of nothing but our wedding day. You must decide on your dress, the flowers, the ceremony, the guests. If you wish I’ll hire a man to look into this other business.’

  ‘Ah, you don’t know me yet. Nothing delights me more than a puzzle. I am the Chair of Crust District Puzzlers and Supreme Champion of The Jigglers – the Jigsaw Society. I want to do this for you; it will be my pleasure.’

  Jeopardine covered his mouth hiding his irritation. ‘Well, we’ll see. The new Mistress Jeopardine might find herself distracted by greater pleasures.’

  Miss Spindle blushed violently.

  ‘What’s wrong with her face?’ said Gritty. An eyebrow was hanging off. As though this was a common occurrence, Jeopardine stuck it back in place.

  24 A Day Off

  Sly had been instructed to gather up the waifs and lock them in the bottomest basement until further notice.

  ‘I wonder what’s happening now,’ said Lucinda, winding her hair around her finger.

  ‘Do you think the sheriffs took him away?’ said Billam.

  ‘I wouldn’t count on it,’ said Alas. ‘His lawyer is wily as a weasel, I heard.’

  ‘You don’t think we went through that for nothing?’ said Blinda.

  ‘Miss Spindle said she wanted to investigate, but I doubt if she’ll want to cross him too much. We’ll find out soon enough,’ sighed Gritty. ‘But, you know what? We got our first day off ever.’

  Slow grins ran around the room.

  ‘A day off,’ said Blinda, ‘you’re right. I’m going to do what I’ve been wanting to do for six years. I’m going back to bed.’ And with the most luxurious of movements she stretched herself out and melted into the covers.

  So the hours passed. They sprawled and dozed. Gertie read at least eight stories while they burned their entire emergency supply of candles. They remembered that there were things called games. Alas and Oy made a chequer board.

  Towards evening there was a light tapping at the door. Lucinda ran up the stairs. ‘It’s only me,’ Molly cook hissed. A tube slid under the door and the waifs lined up to drink. Thin slices of bread followed.

  ‘What’s going on Molly?’ asked Lucinda.

  ‘I thought you might be able to tell me. Whatever have you done to get yourselves locked up like this?’

  ‘Ain’t you heard anything?’

  ‘Inch says there was a falling out between Jep and his visitors. The upservants was sent home so they don’t know much. Inch had to be dragged out; she didn’t want to go anywhere. Raymun tells me he had to take the Lacklish round the wine cellars and let them sample whatever they wanted. He kept them there for hours, then Master’s lawyer, Mr Baracula, turned up. He took them away in his own carriage. They’d got all the wine they could carry and more besides. They talked of moving to Merit Island and living like kings. All very odd. And after that, Baracula went to see Viniga. According to Sly she’s come into money – fifty gildans! That’s five yea
r’s wages. Then, this morning, Mr Baracula’s back here again. Still no upservants. I took the tea up myself. Master looked like he hadn’t slept, hair standing up, blue shadow on his chin. I don’t know what to make of it all.’

  Lucinda turned to the waifs crowding the stairs behind her. ‘I’m going to tell,’ she said.

  ‘Wait a bit,’ said Alas. He dropped his voice. ‘Can we trust her?’

  ‘It’s Molly,’ said Lucinda, ‘of course we can.’

  ‘But Master said she stayed loyal to him over that poisoning nonsense.’

  ‘I know what that was about,’ said Oy. ‘Molly wouldn’t add nothing to Master’s food – not even to help him ’cos it’s against the cook’s oath. It’s a law going back to when the big families in Affland were battling. All the cooks were taking bribes to poison their masters. Cooks take the oath very serious. But Molly’s on our side, we can trust her.’

  Lucinda nodded. ‘I’ll tell then.’

  Molly listened in silence with her face pressed against the door. ‘Oh mercy. You did that without telling me.’

  ‘You would only have worried.’

  ‘I would,’ she sighed. ‘So he’s paid them all to keep their mouths shut. That’s cost him very dear: whatever he gave to the Lacklish plus fifty gildans and now a penniless wife.’ There was a pause while Molly mulled. ‘I can’t seem to take it in – Gwen and the Master, man and wife. A wife can’t testify against her husband. As soon as they’re wed her mouth is stitched. You must hope she sticks to her guns and delves a bit first. We’ll see what the morning brings.’

  The morning brought Raymun as usual, on the heels of the bells, shaking his head. ‘I don’t know what you all hoped to gain yesterday, but you earned yourselves an extra hour’s work a day and twenty new rules.’ He held up a sheet of paper covered in drawings. Raymun paused. ‘I ain’t no gargant in the brain department, but I knows exactly how big I am. And how big I am is small. Always was and always will be. Only thing to do then is make a virtue of it. Ain’t no use small pitting itself against big, no use at all.’