Somebody Stop Ivy Pocket (31 page)

The Miss Frost turned to Jago. ‘Have the carriage brought around the back – we leave immediately.’

The sun was just waking, blowing purple and orange breaths into the dark sky, as the carriage spirited us away from the Rambler Inn. Miss Frost insisted that the curtains be drawn, so the cab was awfully stuffy. There was much shaking about. And a great deal of silence.

Jago had drifted off to sleep, but as tired as I was, my mind was much too busy for me to rest. So I decided to make use of it.

‘Why were you so interested in the maid who took Anastasia’s baby away?’ I asked Miss Frost.

‘Anastasia was my friend,’ came her reply, ‘and I spent a great deal of time looking for her and the child. Naturally, I was curious to know what became of them.’

Miss Frost did not look at me.

‘How is it that Anastasia is able to live here? Didn’t you say that people from Prospa cannot survive in this world for very long?’

‘I suspect that carrying a baby whose father was from this world created a tolerance in her, though I cannot be certain.’

‘But you made a great fuss about the maid’s birthmark and you seemed awfully –’

‘Tell me about your travels to Prospa House, Miss Pocket,’ she interrupted. ‘I am very familiar with the place and it astounds me that you were not captured.’

‘Oh, they tried, but I’m rather good at creeping silently about – having all the natural instincts of a fox in a henhouse.’ I stuck my nose in the air rather proudly. ‘But I confess, it wasn’t easy, as I’m shockingly well known in your world.’

‘What an imagination you have,’ said Miss Frost with a most dismissive sigh.

‘It’s true enough,’ I shot back. ‘The guards took one look at me and said
it’s her
– right before they tried to capture me and bring me to Justice Holiday.’

‘Hallow,’ corrected Miss Frost. ‘Justice Hallow.’

‘Never heard of him.’


She
runs Prospa House and more besides.’ Miss Frost looked very interested again. ‘Did they say anything else, Miss Pocket?’

‘There was one thing. The man, an unsightly brute with appalling manners, said something like
she’s awake
.’

‘Did he indeed?’ said Miss Frost faintly.

And though I had wondered about this before, now, after all that had happened, I suddenly felt the strangeness and the weight of it. How was it that they had recognised me in a world that I had never been in before? Was it just a case of mistaken identity? Or something more?

‘Once I have rescued Rebecca I will look into it,’ I announced.

‘You will do no such thing,’ said Miss Frost swiftly. ‘Rebecca is beyond your reach, and as for this other matter, it signifies nothing and you shall leave it alone. There is enough to contend with in
this
world, without troubling yourself with Prospa. Have I made myself perfectly clear, Miss Pocket?’

With a great show of defiance I crossed my arms (and my legs). ‘Are you utterly bonkers, woman? There is a secret about me in your world and I intend to find out what it is. Besides which, Rebecca is not even a
tiny
bit lost, not to me – I will fix my mind on her and I will find her, wherever she is. I am going back there as soon as I return to London and you cannot stop me.’

‘Oh, but I can,’ said Miss Frost, and she was suddenly very calm. ‘In fact, I am quite certain that you will forget all about this foolish mission.’

‘Never!’

Miss Frost lifted her pale, freckly hand and placed it gently under my chin. She was rarely this tender with me, so naturally I looked at her with great suspicion.

‘Why should I forget it?’ I snapped. ‘Give me one reason why I shouldn’t go to Prospa right now and solve this wretched puzzle!’

‘Because, Miss Pocket, I fear you would pay for the answer with your life.’

Then Miss Frost blew at me as if I were a candle. Silver dust billowed up from the palm of her hand and flew at my face, engulfing me in a sparkly mist.

And then … darkness.

Chapter 29

It was the ocean that brought me back. I awoke to the sound of the sea. The crashing of waves upon the rocks, somewhere nearby. When I opened my eyes the brightness dazzled and stung them. The room was white. Very pretty. Two small windows. A patchwork quilt upon the bed. A wardrobe and chest of drawers. Even an armchair with a fetching blue cushion.

Miss Frost stood at the end of the bed. Jago came in and out, carrying a jug of water and then an apple and knife upon a plate, which he set down next to my bed.

I knew it was gone from the moment I awoke. But I held my peace.

‘Thought you’d never wake up, chatterbox,’ said Jago, tucking his hands into his pockets.

‘Miss Pocket was exhausted,’ said Miss Frost. ‘It is no surprise she has slept a full day and night.’

I sat up in the bed. Wiped sleep from my eyes. ‘Are we in Dorset?’

‘We are,’ said Miss Frost, walking to the window. ‘When you feel ready to get up you will see that our cottage is very remote – perched on a cliff near the outskirts of Weymouth. So we shall be quite safe here for the present.’

Jago was staring at me. ‘You don’t remember falling asleep then, chatterbox?’

I shook my head.

‘What a foolish question,’ snapped Miss Frost, glaring at the boy. ‘Miss Pocket was overcome with fatigue. She fell into a deep sleep in the carriage and I carried her inside. I would be shocked if she could recall a single moment of our journey from Hammersmith.’

The boy looked chastened and set about peeling the apple for me.

‘You are right, dear,’ I said. ‘It’s all a blur.’

But, of course, it wasn’t. I remembered every moment. How we had argued about Rebecca. And about my intention to return to Prospa and solve the mystery about why those guards had recognised me. Miss Frost had said I would pay for the answer with my life. And then she had blown that devilish powder in my face. Clearly, she wanted me to have forgotten our little chat. So I let her have her wish.

‘I have employed the services of a housekeeper,’ said Miss Frost, ‘who will tend to the cooking and cleaning. I trust
her implicitly and expect you to do just as she says when I am gone.’

Jago was frowning. ‘Don’t see why I can’t come with you.’

‘If you wish to stay in my employment, Master Jago, you will do as I ask without protestation. I have left five pounds in the larder under a sack of kidney beans – you are to use it
only
in an emergency.’

‘Are you not staying?’ I asked Miss Frost.

‘I have some urgent matters to attend to,’ she said crisply, walking back to the end of the bed, ‘but hopefully it will not take long. When I come back we will discuss the future, Miss Pocket – I trust that is all right with you?’

‘Perfectly.’

Miss Frost turned and walked to the door. When she was almost past the threshold I called her by name and said, ‘Where is the Clock Diamond?’

Miss Frost paused, but did not turn around.

‘I felt it was safer for everyone if I placed it somewhere out of harm’s way. Perhaps when this is all over, I can return it to you, but for now … I hope you can understand.’

I wanted to cry out – But what of Rebecca? And what of the answers I seek? Instead, I said, ‘It’s not as if the stone was mine – it comes from your world and you may do with it as you wish.’

Jago let out a small gasp. ‘Blimey, I thought you’d blow your top.’

How much he knew about the necklace, I wasn’t sure.

‘You wisdom is admirable, Miss Pocket,’ said Miss Frost.

Then she walked away. I heard her boots on the stairs and the opening and closing of a door. Jago watched from the window as she mounted her horse and galloped across the cliff tops.

I got out of bed and stood next to him, looking out. Then walked over to the armchair and sat down. ‘What did you and Miss Frost do here yesterday?’ I pushed the hair from my face. ‘There isn’t anything about for miles.’

‘She likes it that way,’ said the boy. He leaned against the window ledge. ‘I brought logs up from the basement and cleared out the chimney – it was awful blocked.’

‘And Miss Frost,’ I said casually, ‘what did she do?’

Jago shrugged. ‘Wrote letters mostly.’ He scratched his head. ‘Oh, and she dug up some lavender from the heath and planted it under the kitchen window. Said it’d make the place smell sweet and such.’

I patted my belly. ‘I’m frightfully hungry. Be a dear and rustle me up some eggs and a pound or two of potatoes.’ I got up and walked over to the wardrobe, opening it. There were six rather plain dresses hanging up in shades of blue, white and yellow. ‘I will get changed and be right down.’

‘After breakfast we might go hunting for rabbits,’ said the boy.

I smiled sweetly. ‘Brilliant.’

Nightfall. I was on my knees in the front garden. Beneath the kitchen window. The cottage fast asleep. A half-moon shone high in the sky, sprinkling silvery light upon the flower beds.

The lavender bush came out of the dirt with ease, its fragrant scent a burst of sunlight in my nose. I set it aside and thrust my hand down, scooping the soil in great clumps. It had to be there. I knew it as surely as I knew my own name.

The hole was soon up to my elbow, little hills of dirt stacked around the rim like watchtowers. Then I felt something. It was soft but rough all at the same time. I clenched it with my fingers and pulled it up. A small cloth sack caked in dirt, fastened with a length of rope.

My hands pulled at the cord greedily and I was inside it in seconds. A smile broke across my face as I pulled it out. Held it in my fingers. Inside the magnificent stone was a churning white mist. It parted, offering a delicious glimpse of the night sky above Dorset.

I fixed the Clock Diamond around my neck and took off into the darkness.

Epilogue

‘Are you travelling all the way to London on your own?’

‘Yes. Quite alone.’

‘Haven’t you any family? A guardian?’

‘I did have,’ I replied brightly. ‘A charming older couple who sold coffins and loved me to pieces. But they turned out to be murderous tricksters. All very tragic.’

The prim-looking woman whose name I did not know looked vexed. She sounded vaguely American. Muttered something about this sort of thing being highly irregular. And it was true – it had taken all of the two pounds I had stolen from under the bag of kidney beans to convince the coach driver to take me to London. With no luggage. And no parents.

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