Fogging Over (11 page)

“But what if someone finds out that I falsely accused my own father of embezzling…!”

“Who is going to tell?” she said contemptuously. “Not that fool Edwin Godbolt. He is terrified you will harm his sister. And the man who forged those false documents, Alfred Rose—”

“Lilly,” her husband corrected her. “Alfred Lilly.”

“Lilly is in the Union Workhouse, and the matron says he has only days to live. That leaves that old villain Lovelace, and by now he’s either dead or committing new felonies on the other side of the world. For all we know he died of typhus on the transport ship, like your father.”

Uncle Noel gazed at his wife with a kind of awe. “You make everything so simple, my love.”

“But it is dearest, it is,” Aunt Agnes said triumphantly. “Wonderfully, exquisitely simple!”

They left the room arm in arm, leaving me and Brice totally stunned.

I gulped. “This isn’t just a field trip any more, is it?”

“No,” he agreed soberly.

“It’s a mission now, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

Chapter Eight

L
et’s get out of here,” said Brice. “This house gives me major chills.”

I automatically headed for the door. Brice immediately grabbed my arm. “You keep forgetting you’re an angel!” And he pulled me through the wall into the cold dark street outside.

Melanie, you just shimmered through a wall! I told myself, stunned. It was actually quite a groovy sensation.

Brice was still ranting. “And that aunt is a complete
snake
. Her husband practically destroyed an entire family and she’s just cheering him on to the finishing post!”

I gulped. “She was talking like she wanted him to make them, you know, disappear.”

“I’m sure Noel Scrivener knows a few v. unsavoury Victorians,” he said grimly. “It wouldn’t be hard for him to find someone to bump his nieces off, no questions asked.”

“We should go back and tell Lollie and start figuring out what to do,” I said.

I saw Brice’s expression change at the mention of Lola. “Actually, I could do with a few minutes to get my head together.”

“Oh, OK,” I said hastily, “I’ll beam back by myself.”

To my surprise, he said, “Don’t rush off. Let’s just walk around the square for a bit, see how the rich live.”

It was well past midnight and the square was almost deserted. Outside one brightly lit house a coachman was dozing in his coach, waiting for someone to finish socialising inside. Most of the windows were dark. The fog had practically gone, there were just drifty veils here and there, but the air felt damp and raw. After a while I noticed Brice shivering in his T-shirt.

“You don’t have to freeze or did you forget you’re an angel?” I teased.

“Oh, yeah.” He genuinely hadn’t noticed.

I could see this struggle going on inside him. He seemed desperate to get something off his chest, and suddenly he just blurted it out. “I was just trying to take care of her, you know. Guys are supposed to do that. Then she accuses me of acting like a dog with a bone!” He swallowed. “Was that how I seemed to you?”

“Do you want the honest truth?” I asked.

“Well, I certainly don’t want you to lie,” he said scathingly.

“Well, you have been acting a bit possessive.” I took a breath. “I guess we both have.”

What are you
doing
? I thought. You almost apologised to Brice!

Just then a little grey cat came running up to us. Reuben had started teaching me this cool angel language which is understood by practically all animals, so I petted her and tried out a few basic phrases.

I noticed Brice darting sideways glances at me. Suddenly he said, “I think I’m a bit out of my depth with this boy-girl business.”

“Hold it right there,” I told him nervously. “Is this going to get embarrassing? If so I’m out of here pronto.”

He grinned. “I’m not going to ask you about the angels and the bees. It’s boy-girl
feelings
I’m having trouble with.”

I shrugged. “Yeah, well, you’re a guy. What can I say?”

“I wish that’s all it was,” he said. “Can you even imagine what my life was like before the Agency took me back? I’ve been hanging out with some dark characters, you know. I feel like one of those kids raised by wolves, except with me it was demons and ghouls.”

“I know! It must have been a total nightmare.” I pulled a face. “Sorry, that came out sounding really dumb. You’re right. I can’t even imagine what the Hell dimensions are like. I don’t know how you survived.”

“I don’t think I did, not totally,” he admitted. “But Lola seems to think - she’s so amazing, isn’t she?”

“She’s the best,” I said softly.

“I never dreamed someone like Lola would look at me twice. I guess I got a bit carried away.” Brice took a deep breath. “Sorry if I acted like a jerk.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t exactly behaving like an angel.” I paused and shook my head. “Did I really say that?”

I held out my hand palm upward to show him it was starting to rain. “Have you finished soul-searching now? Because I am dying to see Lollie’s face when we tell her Georgie is actually a girl!”

Back at The Three Cripples, we found a touching scene. Georgie was curled up fast asleep on the floor by the glowing embers of a fire, cuddling the ugly dog for comfort. Around her in a protective circle were dozens of radiant globes of rose-coloured light.

Lola had been re-reading her Angel Handbook while Georgie was sleeping. When we came in, she whipped off her glasses, smiling. “Hi.”

“Pink lights,” said Brice. “That’s nice.”

I saw his lips twitch. I knew he was thinking, pink for a girl.

“I thought they’d help him feel safe,” Lollie explained.

“Help
her
feel safe,” I corrected demurely.

Lola’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding!”

“It’s true,” said Brice. “Young Georgie Hannay here is actually Georgina. You can’t blame her for disguising herself as a boy, living on the streets and with the Ripper on the loose.”

We scrutinised Georgie’s face by the glow of Lola’s angel lights.

“I can’t imagine how I ever thought she was a boy,” I said softly.

Lola shook her head in wonder. “That’s one brave little human.”

I went to sit by the hearth where a few embers still gave off heat. “Brice knew straight off,” I said in a casual voice.

I saw my sharp-eyed friend register that Brice and I had declared a truce, but she just said, “So what else did you guys find out?”

We explained how Georgie’s uncle had developed this major grudge because his legitimate half-brother had married the girl he loved.

“So Scrivener decided to take revenge on the entire Hannay family,” said Brice. “He used his dodgy contacts to acquire forged ‘evidence’ that would make it seem as if his hugely well-respected old man, Charles Hannay, had embezzled his clients’ money. It was obviously a brilliant forgery, too, because the judge sentenced him to be transported - only he died of typhus before he reached Australia. Are you going to eat all that trail mix, Mel?”

“Oh, no, sorry!” I took over the story while Brice munched.

“It looks like Georgie and Charlotte’s papa never got over the shame of having his father publicly humiliated. He and Marguerite eventually had kids, but by then I think his world had like, basically crumbled.” It was only now I was explaining it to Lola that I totally understood this myself.

“So their dad gradually gave up the ghost and died of a broken heart,” said Brice. “And a few years later, their mama followed.”

Lola shook her head. “So Uncle Scrivener is indirectly responsible for these kids being orphaned.”

“He’s totally one hundred percent responsible!” Brice sounded furious. “Not only that, he makes it seem as if Georgie’s mama and papa were feckless parents who left their two little girls destitute. Then this guy has the nerve to whinge about having nightmares!”

“Someone must have known what was going on,” Lola said.

“Yeah, Edwin Godbolt, who was conveniently sent to gaol for a crime he didn’t commit,” said Brice. “Scrivener’s threatened his sister, so while she’s still alive, he can’t tell what he knows.”

“There is one other witness,” I reminded him. “That old forger, Alfred Lilly. But the aunt said he’s going to pop off at any minute.” I yanked at my hair. “It’s SO frustrating being invisible. If we could just materialise for five tiny minutes we could go to Scotland Yard—”

“No way!” Lola said sternly. “Last time you pulled that stunt you almost got expelled.”

Brice looked interested. “Why haven’t I heard this story?”

I let out a shriek. “OMIGOSH, guys! I know what we’re going to do!!”

I was so overexcited, I actually had to fan myself with both hands before I could get the words out. “We’ll go to Minerva’s first thing and Brice can ask his spirit buddies to tell Georgie and Charlotte what their evil rellies are up to. If the girls can get to Alfred Lilly in time, he can maybe make this like, deathbed confession to the cops or whatever.” I beamed at them. “Well, what do you think?”

“I’m grudgingly impressed,” Brice admitted.

I blew on my nails. “Not bad for an airhead, huh?”

“It’ll mean giving Georgie a cosmic nudge,” said Lola. “She might have her own plans.”

Brice emptied the last of my trail mix into his mouth. “Sweetheart, if the Agency wanted to play it by the rules, why would they send us?”

Lola and Brice started swapping troubleshooting stories. I moved closer to the fire, staring into the dying embers.

Brice had made it sound like this had
always
been a mission, a mission that just happened to be in educational disguise. This bothered me, because deep down I knew I’d let Georgie down. Not only had I allowed my personal business to get in the way, I’d deliberately distanced myself from her. Georgie’s life was unbelievably painful. So to protect myself, I’d reinvented her as some quirky little Victorian character I was studying for a project.

But now I took a proper look at her, I mean
really
looked at her vulnerable little face as she slept by the fire, and I thought, in another life she could be me and I could be her.

And you know what? I felt really grateful that after so many stupid mistakes, I’d been given another chance to help her.

Then I thought: How karmic is that! Like, before I could help Georgie, I had to learn all this incredibly heavy stuff about myself. And then I thought, it’s true what they say about the Agency. It really does move in mysterious ways.

Next morning, Georgie had dark circles under her eyes. She was so exhausted she could scarcely drag her clothes on.

“Have you got somewhere safe to sleep tonight, dearie?” the landlady of The Cripples asked her anxiously.

“Me? Lor’ bless yer, missis, I got dozens of places I can go,” Georgie boasted in her street voice, but I felt terror go through her like a blade. Because since her mama died she didn’t have anywhere safe to go, not tonight, not ever.

It was wet and windy outside and Georgie had to stop on the doorstep to turn up her collar. Two grim-faced bobbies stood guarding the alleyway where the girl had been murdered.

It made me shudder to think that we’d been in the next street when it happened.

We should have helped her, I thought guiltily. What’s the use of being an angel if you can’t save an innocent person’s life? And then I thought, but we can still save Georgie.

Georgie didn’t need nudging in the direction of Milkwell Street. She went there all by herself. The poor kid had suddenly lost all her confidence and didn’t know where else to go. She managed to keep it together, up to the moment when Ivy opened the door, and then she burst into tears, babbling hysterically about her brush with the Ripper. Charlotte came running, wide-eyed.

“I can’t do this anymore, Charlie,” Georgie sobbed. “I tried but I can’t. What’s going to happen to us now?”

Her sister looked genuinely scared. She was used to Georgie being the strong one. “Tell us exactly what happened,” she said bravely.

Minerva appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Is something wrong?” she asked. Several concerned looking spirits followed her in. Brice immediately nipped over to do a bit of cosmic networking.

“I hope you don’t mind Georgie being here, Miss Temple. He didn’t know where else to go.” Charlotte sounded flustered.

I saw a spirit murmur something to Minerva, and she made a sound of genuine dismay. “I am being told that someone has been menacing this child,” she said anxiously. “Have you any idea who it might be?”

“Oh, yes, Miss Temple,” said Charlotte. “A poor girl was killed in Whitechapel last night, and the Ripper ran right past Georgie in the street.”

Minerva shuddered. “I’m not talking about that fiend in human form. This is someone close to you, someone who did you and your sister a great wrong many years ago. You pose a threat to this person and you are both in very great danger.”

Georgie backed away, with the tears still trickling down her face. “I’ve heard about your seances,” she burst out. “All those levers and pulleys and ectoplasm and I don’t want nothing, anything I mean, to do with them, I mean,
those
‘spirits’.”