Somebody Stop Ivy Pocket (32 page)

‘I take excellent care of myself,’ I told her.

The woman glowered. Then leaned forward. ‘Excuse my curiosity – normally I’m a stickler for minding my own beeswax – but what business have you in the city?’

There were six of us in the carriage. The inquisitive American. Myself. Three older women (all sisters) snoring in
near perfect unison. And a rather dashing fellow who had his head buried in
David Copperfield
.

I felt a generous sigh was in order. ‘Well, I have to rescue a slightly disturbed, though highly musical woman from a madhouse. Also, save my friend from certain death – she’s suffering terribly and I must bring her home before she fades away.’ I sighed again. ‘Then I’d very much like to find a child who vanished over a decade ago. And if I have time, discover exactly who I am.’

The woman didn’t look even slightly unconvinced. Though she did have concerns. ‘A mere child has no business doing such things!’

‘Why not? I’m brilliant in a catastrophe. Everybody says so.’

‘You’re a child! A little girl! How on earth do you expect to succeed?’

‘Courage, dear,’ was my earnest reply. ‘Great bucketloads of it. The kind that causes spontaneous applause, fainting spells and national monuments.’

The curious American looked suitably impressed. And rather confused. Which managed to shut her up.

Through the dusty window I saw a patchwork of green and gold fields rippling beneath the morning sun. The stagecoach hurtled across a rickety bridge, causing the carriage to leap and tremble. I leaned back in my seat, strangely content, and watched the world hurry by.

In no time, sleep came to claim me – but I did my best to resist. It occurred to me then that, yet
again
, I was bound for London and an uncertain future. But I did not despair or worry. I felt confident that no matter what befell me, I would be perfectly all right. Rebecca would be saved. Anastasia liberated. Miss Always defeated.

I felt a pang of guilt for leaving Dorset under such circumstances. I knew deep down that Miss Frost was
trying
to do good, but that did not make her right. She was monstrously wrong to separate me from the stone. To try to make me forget what I heard those guards in Prospa House say.

But the mysteries swirling around me were nothing more than questions yet to be answered. I would get to the truth. Somehow.

After all, I was a girl of excellent character. Stupendously pretty. Heart-stoppingly smart. It was true that I didn’t
exactly
have a place to call home. Or a family to belong to. Or a penny to my name. But surely that wouldn’t last forever? Nothing ever does.

At last I surrendered to sleep, falling gently into splendid dreams of dancing monkeys and brighter days. And all the while, the stagecoach spirited me swiftly towards the shadows and intrigues of London.

And destiny.

Ugh. Is it that time again? Another round of unbridled gratitude with a side order of grovel-ling. Didn’t I just thank these people? Still, it must be done. So here it is:

Madeleine Milburn is an outstanding literary agent. What’s more, she’s
my
outstanding literary agent. Which shows great courage and fortitude on her part. And I thank her. In her bustling office are Cara Lee Simpson and Thérèse Coen who are both highly capable and terribly helpful. Cara’s chum, Harriet Orrell, offered invaluable assistance with London geography. Thanks also to Michelle Kroes at CAA for all her efforts in the film world.

I do not write for my own benefit. If I did, this book would be a three-hundred-thousand-word opus exploring the widely held view that I am the new Dickens (and quite possibly the old one too). But as I write books for
other
people, a publisher is required. One is Bloomsbury UK. The following people had a great deal to do with creating the book you have in your hands:
Rachel Boden, Helen Vick, Katie Everson, Polly Whybrow, Ellen Holgate, Rebecca McNally. John Kelly provided the illustrations that add so much. So I thank all of these talented people.

On the home front I should probably acknowledge my parents for being hugely supportive and only occasionally regretting the day I was born.

Paul, as ever, did all the printing and helped with computer related stuff. Christine offered frequent encouragement. Carol allowed me to bend her ear on many occasions. Peter hasn’t read any of my books because they don’t involve three men in a raft, climbing Mount Whatsit and eating their own arms for sustenance – but he always asks how my work is going, which is nice.

My nephews and nieces – Nats, Ant and Liz, Josh, Ben, Thomas, Dylan, Olivia, Shannon, Kaelin, Jack and Charli – provide a welcome distraction from the peaks and valleys of a writing life.

Jacqui is the closest thing I have to a lifelong friend and is one of the best people I know (which isn’t all that hard, as I know a great many awful people).

Lastly, thanks to you, dear reader. Though, to be honest, it’s you who should be thanking me. After all, the fact that you chose my book speaks very well for your future prospects. A
great many of my keenest readers have gone on to thoroughly successful lives upon release from juvenile detention. So well done you.

Until next we meet …

C. Krisp, Esq.

Hold on to your bloomers, dear.
Ivy Pocket’s first adventure is out now!

Praise for
Anyone But Ivy Pocket

‘Girls should be sweet and gentle at all times, kind to rabbits, and eager to burst into song as they clean the house. Ivy Pocket does none of these things. Lock her up!’

Snow White

‘Exuberantly told with apt and wildly witty caricatures from John Kelly, it has a fun, original voice’

Sunday Times

‘Pocket is a menace to society and can’t be trusted. If you read that beastly book of hers you’d assume I was some sort of spoilt brat who thinks only of herself – which is a big fat lie! Just last week I thought of my maid and how lucky she is to have the honour of brushing my hair’

Matilda Butterfield, spoilt brat

‘A wonderfully entertaining heroine’

Financial Times

‘Ludicrously funny’

Slimane, aged 11

‘Miss Pocket is the most deluded and wilful child I have ever come across – she must not be encouraged to write another ridiculous tale and therefore I strongly suggest you throw this book into the fire and never utter her name again’

Miss Frost, governess and warrior

‘Ivy Pocket is the best children’s literary invention since
A Series of Unfortunate Events
’

Littlebookroom.com.au

‘Beneath all of that stupidity is a kind-hearted girl – though taking an interest in Ivy Pocket can be rather dangerous to your health’

Mr Horatio Banks, lawyer and ghost

‘Readers looking for a narrator to capture their imaginations with tall tales and unlikely escapades will find her in Ivy Pocket’

Junior Magazine, Australia

‘I found this book very funny. I rate it 9.9’

Era, aged 10

‘To write one book is regretful. To write two is unforgivable!’

Lady Elizabeth Butterfield, unpleasant old bat

‘It made me laugh’

Aurela, aged 10

‘Lock up your manuscripts – even names aren’t safe from her!’

Charles Dickens, disgruntled author

‘The very best sequel ever written by a junior lady’s maid of staggering brilliance’

Ivy Pocket, utterly delightful

This electronic edition published in 2016 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc

Bloomsbury Publishing, London, Oxford, New York, New Delhi and Sydney

First published in Great Britain in May 2016 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc

50 Bedford Square, London WC1B 3DP

www.bloomsbury.com

BLOOMSBURY is a registered trademark of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc

Text copyright © Caleb Krisp 2016

Illustrations copyright © John Kelly 2016

The moral rights of the author and illustrator have been asserted

All rights reserved

No part of this publication may be reproduced or

transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying

or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

ISBN 978 1 4088 5867 7

ePub ISBN 978 1 4088 5868 4

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