The First Book of Calamity Leek (23 page)

‘No chance it's a case of mistaken identity?' Mother said.

The demonmale said he couldn't comment at this stage.

Mother sighed. ‘Hers was a deplorable crime, one knows that much. A vindictive, jealous act.' Mother didn't mind saying one remembered an envious streak in her, even in the adolescent years. Mother said one remembered reading about that poor actress's injuries at the time. Such a talent wasted. Even Mother, with all she had suffered – and Heaven alone knew how she had suffered – even she knew the importance of not taking the law into one's own hands. And if anyone had just cause, one did, didn't she, Inspector?

The demonmale said he couldn't comment on her case either.

‘Well, one assures you, Inspector, one hasn't seen the woman in thirty years. One had heard a rumour she'd fled to the Côte d'Azur, but one assumes you've pursued that lead already. However, one can state for the record, that one is more than happy to oblige with the investigation, in any way one can. As you see, this yard is where the cows are kept. Marvellous for the orphans to foster some sort of connection with nature.'

Mother's voice stopped. I waited for the scream to say the blade had stuck him. Most probably it would be in the throat. Or, if his hands were tied behind, she might split him down the belly – chin to tool.

The demonmale asked her about the orphans. He understood she'd taken some in, after her own tragedy.

‘Modesty prevents one from harping on, Inspector, but
you make a fair point. One's own grief and suffering did become a spur to noble deeds. A Mother's love is boundless, Inspector. It cannot be packed away or bottled up as though it never existed. So one thought, why not? Why not share one's maternal bounty – and this magnificent estate – with those who have none? They're on pilgrimage at the moment. In the Steps of St David along the Pembrokeshire coast. One hears they're rather loving it, despite the rain.'

The demonmale said that sounded nice for them, and his wife had got him a potpourri pillow in Betws. Which Mother answered, ‘Very good of her to support one's little enterprise. One doesn't like to gripe, but Vatican funding really isn't what it was.'

And now there was another pause, and I was sure Mother was going to do it, when Nancy gasped. ‘He's heading this way.'

I watched the demon shoes step closer on the concrete.

Mother's chair raced in front.

I wanted to say, ‘Don't even breathe, sisters,' but my throat had sealed itself up.

‘Just the old cow stalls down here, Inspector,' Mother said, swerving and parking Motherly between him and us. ‘An absolute wreck, but the little angels love to come and play, so what can one do? Although one does keep it bolted to try to discourage them.'

There was silence. I figured the demonmale's feet weren't more than a pig length away. ‘What's happening?' I mouthed to Nancy. ‘Is Mother doing it? Why's it so quiet? Tell me, Mother must be doing it now.'

But Nancy couldn't move her mouth. Her eyes were stuck open like dead pig ones. I felt my own heart frost up with fear.

Down the row, Eliza Aberdeen sneezed. And a pig snorted back at her.

‘Pigs!' Mother cried out. ‘One meant pigs not cows! One keeps the pork stock in there. Gloucester Old Spot. Tamworth. British White. Adorable creatures, one hundred per cent organic. Fresh meat gives such a boost to the orphans' diet. Would you care for a chop, Inspector?'

The demonmale said nothing.

A terrible thought came to me. What if Mother hasn't got a knife on her? What if that's why he's running free? I tugged Nancy's smock. ‘What's happening? Why ain't he been stuck? Why ain't anyone speaking out there? Is Mother safe?'

Nancy unfroze her mouth. ‘He's looking along the dorm wall,' she mouthed. ‘He's looking at the door. He's looking up and down and everywhere.'

In case I hadn't been doing it already, I held my breath.

‘Awfully nippy,' Mother said. ‘This time of year.'

The demonmale said nothing.

‘How do you manage without a decent overcoat, one wonders,' Mother said. ‘Or are you one of these terribly macho types?'

The demonmale said he doubted it.

Mother said she was sure he was being modest. He looked terribly strong to her. Young and terribly, terribly strong. Did he work out at all?

The demonmale said nothing.

Mother said his wife was clearly a lucky lady. Very, very lucky.

The demonmale said nothing.

Mother wheeled close and grabbed his trouser leg. ‘If one was only a younger and healthier woman, Inspector.'

The demonmale moved off.

‘Still looking,' Nancy mouthed down to me.

And silly to say it, I flung some straw over my head, just in case. But I needn't have bothered, because – thank heavens – his left shoe swivelled away. He began to move towards the corner of the yard, and the steps to the High Hut.

‘Derelict accommodation,' Mother said, her chair screeching to life and speeding after him. ‘For the farm hands. No one's lived up there for decades. Condemned. Rather more than one's life's worth to take on the Council. But be one's guest, Inspector. If you've got the Council's say-so, and all the appropriate health and safety forms, then do be one's guest.'

Up in the High Hut, Toto must have heard him coming because she started yapping. About the only thing that fleabag dog ever did right in her life. And Mother's voice set to hissing laughter, ‘One does beg your pardon, Inspector. One should have said no one except for the orphans' pet lives up there. But that thing's old enough to have been condemned ten times over.'

The demonmale shoes stopped by the metal steps. The right shoe shifted up onto the bottom one. ‘Would you mind if I—'

But Mother screeched her chair around and started it racing for the yard gate. ‘Would you care for a cafetière, Inspector?' she shouted out. ‘One's autoimmunity plummets these days, if one's outside for long.'

The demonmale shoe hovered. All slow, it swung round and came down on yard concrete. ‘Yes, of course, Lady Llewelyn. You've been most accommodating as it is.'

And that's how Mother got that demonmale shutting
up with his nosying and trotting out of the yard, happy as a pig following a bucket to his slaughter.

I took Nancy's hand and squeezed it. We could all breathe again.

Well, it weren't too long after, that Mother came back and let us out. Which was a good thing, because I'd decided on writing our own duty list for the day, seeing as Aunty was gone without leaving one. I reckoned we could try for one hundred cushions stuffed before she came back. Nothing cheered Aunty more than sacks of cushions ready to be released.

Now, the first thing I reckoned on doing was keeping Annie safe from harm, and I told her so. Well, actually, I told her I had a secret, and could I tell it to just her? And I just about got all my sisters out of the dorm, and then I slammed the door and bolted it safe, and then I told her so. Actually, I shouted it through the locked door, ‘No secret, sorry Annie.' See, I figured we were preparing for War, weren't we? And as Aunty liked to say, ‘The first casualty is usually truth.'

‘For your own safety I ain't letting you out till Aunty's back,' I shouted, ignoring her cursing and bashing at the door. ‘Awful sorry, Annie, but when I come back from the supplies barn, I'll fetch you in some porridge for breakfast.'

‘Sandra Saffron Walden,' I said, grabbing her smock as she went off for the kitchen, ‘stand here and keep the door bolted while I go get the petals for cushions. Don't you open it up. Or let anyone else. Or else.'

‘OK, Clam,' Sandra said.

Except when I came back from the barn with my barrowful, the dorm door was thrown open wide.

Well.

Well, the Goddess Daughter's own steam hissed out my mouth to see that, it really did.

Sandra stood by the open door, smiling beautiful and stupid as a snowdrop. ‘Annie said could she pop out because she forgot something. She said she'll be back soon, and she promised not to bother with mushrooms. And there was something else, what was it? Oh yes. And you're not to go getting hot and bothered. That's just what she said, Clam. “Don't let Clam go getting herself hot and bothered, and special not at Sandra,” she said. Which is me.'

Well, I could have spat out my heart into Sandra's black plaits right then, I really could. But, see, I didn't have to. Because just then Emily popped by. Yes, she did and she buzzed busy enough to shake my ear to bits. And it was questions she had now –

‘Who's the one really got hot and bothered, sister Leek, you or Annie?'

‘Hot and bothered. Hot and bothered. What needs doing, when something's hot and bothered, sister Leek?'

‘Will you tell me, Emily?' I said, cupping my ear steady.

‘I'll tell you this, sister Leek. Aunty said to take care of each other. Shouldn't you take care of hot and bothered Annie? Shouldn't you take care of her good and proper?'

‘Very well, Emily,' I said. ‘If you say so, Emily. Looks like I'll have to take care of hot and bothered Annie good and proper then.'

And I turned away from Sandra, who was staring at me something drop-jawed, and I went to start thinking what to do.

I BECKON THE
demonmale closer.

Soon enough he is right here, standing right over my bed. Blowing his hot breath down on me. ‘Is this all right with you, dear?' he says.

And I look up at him, and he looks down at me.

And his hands come for me.

And mine go at him.

But before I can get a hold on his throat, his arms grab me.

I am trapped up. Pinned in. Stuck down. So I can only moan.

And he goes, ‘Shush, darling, shush. Everything's going to be all right.'

And his beard is pressing on me. And he is shuddering and sobbing. And I am trapped and moaning.

It is most tricky to kill a body.

Most tricky.

COURSE, MY ELDER
sisters moaned when I stood them under Emily's eighteen-year-old statue on the Sacred Lawn, and told them what we were to do to Annie.

It was a sad old winter afternoon. The birds had all gone off somewhere else to keep warm. The rose crops round the Lawn had died down to their bones. Even eighteen-year-old Emily had drips dropping off her pink nose. And I don't mind saying, all our bodies were shivering even before we looked at the petal bin that Sandra and I had dragged down from the supplies barn.

Mary Bootle touched the bin lid and said, ‘Golly, I don't like this one bit. Sandra, you are our eldest, and Dorothy you are our cleverest, if one of you says, “Don't do it,” I won't do it. By jiminy, I won't.'

Eliza Aberdeen said, ‘I feel something queasy today with all this cold. If it's all right with everyone, I'll go back and rest up in the dorm.'

Dorothy Macclesfield said, ‘Remind me, Clam. You said Emily told you this was the only way to save us all from the demonmales. How did she tell you? I'm wondering
how this is a logical way to save Annie. Does it seem logical to you?'

Nancy Nunhead snorted out snot on the Lawn and said, ‘We could pop Calamity in the bin instead.' And Sandra Saffron Walden burst out crying.

I climbed up on a bucket and looked inside the empty petal bin. We had placed it ten paces down from eighteen-year-old Emily's statue, so she could keep an eye on things, and maybe help out with a miracle if she fancied it.

Course, Emily was too busy buzzing about me to say yes or no to a miracle happening. But I still hoped. Like ten-year-old Emily had once made a miracle of keeping the chickenpox off our faces, and twelve-year-old Emily had helped Aunty's
Volume III
writer's block. It was sad that eighteen-year-old Emily hadn't helped Truly at her birthday party, but maybe she was saving herself for Annie, because she knew how bad Annie needed it. Maybe that's what she was doing.

Now, I don't mind saying here, I was something nervous myself about what we were to do to Annie, but thankful, Emily whispered in my ear, ‘Come on, Clam, you can't stop now. It's going to take a lot of filling, that petal bin, so chop-chop.'

‘It's going to take a lot of filling, that petal bin,' I said to my sulking sisters. ‘Chop-chop.'

‘You're going to need more buckets to stand on for steps,' Emily said.

‘We're going to need more buckets to stand on for steps,' I said.

My sisters kicked their feet about the grass and didn't budge.

I sighed. ‘All right, Mary,' I said. ‘Sandra is eldest, and
Dorothy is cleverest, but just remember, neither were spoken to by Emily herself, and told what to do about Annie – Without a Moment's Delay – as Emily put it to me herself.'

‘Eliza, wrap yourself in an extra fur – that should do you.'

‘Sandra and Nancy, I would remind you both that Annie St Albans's unsisterly behaviour meant sore arms for all of us yesterday. Not to mention she revealed information about the Garden to a demonmale, theretofore putting us all in danger. Not to mention she said laughing with a demonmale was as nice as being with sisters. And not to mention she's gone off after him again. Any one of these is a sure and certain Indicator that the Devil has got Himself in her and has started cooking her up Hyperthermia, sisters. Just like he did to Truly. And when He's finished with Annie, He'll be after us all.

‘And Dorothy Macclesfield, for the last time, Emily herself whispered to me yesterday that there ain't but one way to stop a Fire burning too deep for a standpipe to cure. Emily herself said that. And how she said to do it was pure logic.'

I wiped a drip off my nose. ‘See, sisters, it comes down to one marrow question, it really does. Do we want Annie free of Him, or do we not? Are we her loving sisters, or are we not? Do we want to save our Garden, or do we not?'