Somebody Stop Ivy Pocket (26 page)

I was nearly halfway there when I came to a shuddering stop. A corridor peeled off to my left. The smart thing would have been to run right past it as fast as I could. But I heard the distinct echo of voices. I pulled up. Panting wildly.

A man was speaking. Then a woman bellowed over him. Her voice unmistakable.

‘My granddaughter tells me that she is as impossibly cheerful as ever,’ snapped old walnut head. ‘Why is her spirit not broken? Are you running a resort or a madhouse, Professor Ploomgate?’

‘We have deprived her of liberty, sunlight, nutrition,’ came the Professor’s insipid reply. ‘I do not know what else we can do.’

‘Think of something, you lumbering jackass!’ she barked.

With every moment their voices and the click of Lady Elizabeth’s cane grew louder. They were coming right towards me. The obvious solution was to run back – but where would that lead? Jago was about to raise the alarm and the halls would be swarming with orderlies all on the lookout. The only option was to risk exposure and make a run for it.

I had to get an idea how close they were. So with tremendous care, I took a peek. It was only the briefest of glimpses, but
it was enough. The group consisted of Professor Ploomgate, Lady Elizabeth and Matilda. They were perhaps thirty feet away. Lady Elizabeth and the Professor were deep in conversation and did not see me. But Matilda did. I was practically positive.

‘Grandmother,’ said the pretty brat, ‘there’s something you should know.’

‘What is it?’ said the old bat gruffly.

The game was up. I prepared to run.

‘My bracelet is missing, and I know I had it on when we arrived. We simply
must
go back and look for it – after all, if anyone in this beastly place were to find it, I would never see it again.’

‘I assure you,’ said Professor Ploomgate, ‘that my staff possess the highest morals and character.’

‘Claptrap!’ huffed Lady Elizabeth. ‘Come, we will retrace our steps and see if it has fallen off somewhere along the way.’

And with that, I heard them turn around and walk back the way they had come.

Just then the bell began to ring and I heard raised voices sounding the alarm.

I took off, racing towards the eastern door.

‘We’ve got a runner!’ came a frantic cry.

My hands shook as I found the right key and unlocked the heavy door. I charged outside, cold wind swirling around me. There were lamplights dotted around the high brick wall and I
soon spotted the way out. I could hear other footsteps pounding upon the ground as I ran.

The back gate had a large padlock connected to a thick chain.

‘Check all the gates!’ bellowed a guard.

I said a silent prayer that the key would work as I slipped it in. The padlock released with a glorious click. I pulled on the chain. Unlatched the gate. Practically leapt through it. And all the while, I was unable to comprehend why Matilda Butterfield had let me escape. It was astounding! Impossible!

A narrow lane hugged the wall surrounding Lashwood and I ran along it until a side street came into view. I could hear frantic exchanges on the other side of the wall, whistles being blown and boots thumping across the yard.

A single gaslight lit the next street. As I charged along the footpath, my cape flying out behind me, I could hear a carriage approaching. So I slowed down, hugging the row of terraces to obscure myself. Waited for it to pass.

Then I felt it. A presence behind me. Terribly close. Just as a hand gripped my arm. Without turning around I pulled fiercely away. The carriage swept by, the sound thunderous, and I sprinted on to the road and lunged at it. Grabbing the luggage brace I managed to hoist myself up, holding on for dear life.

As it sped away, I dared to look back. But I could see no sign of my attacker.

There was only one place I could think to go. One place I might seek refuge. So that is where I went.

After all, my options were limited. The Snagsbys’ was out of the question on the grounds that they were violent criminals. Miss Carnage was tragically out of reach, as I did not know where she lived. And the London Library would surely be closed at this late hour. So that only left one option, and I felt that under the circumstances it was a good one.

Unfortunately, not everyone agreed.

‘Miss Estelle and the Baron have retired to bed.’

It was the butler again. He looked me up and down with disapproval. Perhaps because I looked like a girl who had just escaped from a madhouse – matted hair, dirty clothes, stinking to high heaven.

‘I have news for Miss Estelle – I would have come sooner but I was rather preoccupied at Lashwood.’

‘As I said, Miss Estelle has retired to bed.’

‘It’s all right, Lampton,’ came a bright voice.

Estelle appeared in all her loveliness. Almost as if she had
been hiding behind the door. ‘Ivy is a dear friend and is always welcome.’

I was terribly moved by her bright smile. How it would fade when I told her about Sebastian’s fate.

As I walked in, I hit the butler on the shoulder and spoke from the corner of my mouth. ‘Have a mop and bucket brought in immediately – there is sure to be an ocean of tears.’

When I entered the magnificent drawing room, Estelle took my cape and offered me a comfortable armchair.

‘Ivy …’ said Estelle, frowning as she sat down opposite me. ‘I do not quite know how to say this, but you look rather dishevelled. Where have you been?’

‘In a madhouse, dear.’ I felt the truth was my best option. ‘It’s a dreadfully long story, but I was the victim of a vengeful old bat with hatred in her heart.’

Estelle gasped with great conviction. ‘Where were you imprisoned?’

‘Lashwood. Actually, dear, I’m almost certain I saw you there.’

‘Me? What a strange thing to say.’

‘I’m sure it was just someone who
looked
like you but the resemblance was stupendous.’

A maid came in and Estelle ordered tea and refreshments. Then the girl stood up.

‘We must run you a bath and do something about your
clothes. You wait here and have something to eat, while I see to all the details.’

‘Do hurry, dear, for I have some rather grim news to report.’

Estelle nodded and quickly walked from the drawing room. I sat back and took a long breath as I glanced around the sumptuous room. My friend would no doubt insist that I stay on with them. As a treasured friend and sister. It was sure to be a perfectly pleasant life.

Oh, but the Clock Diamond. And Rebecca. I could not forget my mission. At first light, I would return to the Snagsbys and demand the necklace back. Failing that, I would find a way to steal it, before they could use it again on another unsuspecting victim. But for tonight, I would allow myself a brief window of rest and fine food.

I closed my eyes. But the sound of sobbing out in the hall brought me quickly to my feet. I hurried out and found a maid carrying a tray up the stairs, crying like a rainstorm. It was Bertha, who had been so helpful on my last visit.

‘Whatever’s the matter, dear?’

It turned out that her mother had taken ill. And all she wanted to do was rush home to care for her, but first she had to serve Baron Dumbleby his coffee and read to him until he nodded off.

‘Here, give it to me,’ I said, taking the tray from her hands. ‘You go home to your mother and I will take the coffee to the Baron. I practically live here now.’

Bertha hurried away, wiping her eyes, and I made my way upstairs to the Baron’s private quarters.

I found the little aristocrat in his bed, propped up on a small mountain of satin pillows, fast asleep. His teeth were in a jar beside the bed and as he breathed in and out, his lips would sink into his mouth, then shoot out, flapping with abandon. It was delightful.

As I set the tray down beside the bed, he roused. His head lifted from the pillow then fell back again. Though still groggy, he seemed to recognise me. ‘Has she gone?’

‘Who, dear?’

‘Anastasia,’ he whispered. ‘I cannot bear to hear her … she will not stop.’

I frowned. The poor thing was still half asleep. ‘You are confused, Baron Dumbleby.’

‘She came back,’ said the old man, and his milky eyes stared intently into the darkness. ‘She came back to this house.’

‘Yes, I know all about that,’ I said, sitting on the bed beside
him. ‘Do not ask me how – Bertha swore me to secrecy and I’m a girl of my word.’

Baron Dumbleby looked startled. ‘You know about Anastasia?’

‘Yes, dear, I just said as much.’

His trembling hand reached for mine. ‘We only wanted the truth about Sebastian – you understand, don’t you? We had no choice …’

‘No choice about what, dear?’

‘A year had passed without a word,’ said the Baron, ‘and then she turned up and told us such a tale – she was delirious.’

‘Who? Anastasia?’

‘That’s right.’ Estelle had come into the bedroom chamber. She stood with her back to the fire, a blue nightdress in her arms. ‘Anastasia told my mother that she and Sebastian had been married and that my brother was dead – my mother turned her away at the door.’

My mind was a fog. I was tired and hungry. It was hard to make sense of what I was being told. ‘Anastasia told your mother that Sebastian was dead?’

Estelle nodded curtly and threw the nightdress aside.

‘But if you knew …’ I stood up and let Baron Dumbleby’s hand slip from mine. ‘Why did you pretend that your mother had not set eyes on Anastasia since she dismissed her?’

‘Because she is a liar!’ hissed Estelle. ‘My mother searched
the whole of England and could not find any record of a marriage between them.’ The girl looked at me with something like hatred. ‘I remember her sitting down on the stairs in the hall and telling my mother a story so absurd only a lunatic would believe a word of it.’

‘McCloud was our very best maid,’ declared the Baron, making no sense at all.

‘Hush, Uncle,’ said Estelle firmly, walking towards the bed.

The Baron chuckled. ‘Her name was McGrath, of course, but from the first moment Lady Vivian clapped eyes on her and saw that birthmark under her eye, shaped just like a cloud, it had to be McCloud!’

Something did not add up. I gazed at Estelle. ‘You said that when Anastasia came back your mother turned her away at the door, yet just now you said she was sitting on the stairs in the hall telling her tale.’

‘What does it matter?’ came the terse reply. ‘She sat on the stairs and spun a ridiculous story about being from some faraway world, cursed by a terrible plague.’

I gasped.

‘She wanted my mother to believe that when she was forced to return to this
other
world, Sebastian had followed her, even though he knew it would cost him his life.’ Estelle laughed coldly. ‘It was the ravings of a lunatic.’

Could it be? Was Anastasia – the mysterious lodger of whom no record could be found – from Prospa? It was shocking. But in a strange sort of way it made sense.

‘Sebastian loved her so much,’ I muttered to myself, ‘that he put on the Clock Diamond and went after her.’

Estelle lunged at me. ‘How do you know about that foolish necklace? It doesn’t exist! It is all lies!’ She shook me rather violently. ‘You saw her, didn’t you?’

I pushed the unhinged girl away. ‘Saw
who
, you mad cow?’ I patted down my filthy apron with great dignity. ‘As for the
foolish
necklace, if I weren’t sworn to secrecy, I would tell you that it certainly exists and that there is every chance that Anastasia’s story was utterly true.’

‘You are as deranged as she is!’ spat the girl.

‘The child will have no name,’ said Baron Dumbleby sadly.

I saw blind panic flash across Estelle’s face. ‘He is half asleep, his mind is confused.’

But it was already too late. ‘Anastasia was with child?’ I asked.

‘Don’t be absurd,’ said Estelle.

‘I didn’t see her after it was over,’ said the old man, his voice shaking, ‘but I heard her, for she would not stop that haunting –’

‘She wanted money,’ said Estelle, silencing her uncle again,
‘and my mother knew that Sebastian would never have married her. Yes, she carried a child, but it could not have been his and she was thrown out on to the street.’