The Lady Astronomer (2 page)

“Only if you make the tea.”

Her brother dashed ahead, nearly jumping
rather than climbing down the ladder propped up against the side of the house.

“We are going to build a huge
telescope, a behemoth, a wonder to behold.” Freddie twirled around,
dizzily falling to the dewy grass. He unwittingly crushed a small family of
insects, one of whom got quite a bite in before its life was extinguished.

Freddie jumped up, shaking his hand. “Ouch!
Little bugger bit me!”

Lucretia sighed. “Just as well. You
were about to wake the neighbours.”

*

“One lump or two, Al?”

“Freddie, you know I don’t take sugar,”
replied his younger brother.

Lucretia groaned, absentmindedly rubbing at
the skin under the leather straps holding the monoscope in place over her eye.
Now that she was inside, she had unscrewed the telescopic part from the device
and it was a monocle once more.

“Lucretia, do you need me to adjust
your monoscope?” Al was solicitous, eager that all his inventions should
be top-notch, most especially if worn by his little sister.

She favoured him with a soft smile. “It’s
fine, Al. Thank you. The strap is just a little tight. The monoscope has made
such a difference.” She squeezed his hand.

“Now, you two,” Freddie bustled
over to the table, all action and eagerness. “Take your tea and feast your
eyes on these letters.”

“You have to stay quiet,”
remarked Lucretia.

“And no finger drumming.” Al
wagged his finger.

“You would think that I never do a
thing for you two,” huffed Freddie, but remained silent, quite the feat
for him, as his siblings read on.

Al sneezed intermittently as he caught a
whiff of the king’s perfumed missives.

The King’s Castle

We read of your discovery of the new
planet, named George’s Star, in respect of our great Sovereign. The King is
most happy with this discovery and that you have realised His Greatness of
Being and as such named the astral body for him.

The King sends his thanks and best Royal
regards.

&c.

The Letter Writer to His Most Royal Majesty

The King’s Castle

While the King is always happy to
correspond with His subjects, He feels the need to inform you that he does not
have ‘penpals’, being busy as he is with Matters of State and so on and so
forth. He thanks you for your on-going correspondence, but would prefer that
you would keep matters on a purely professional plane from now on.

With Best Royal regards.

&c.

The Letter Writer to His Most Royal Majesty

My Castle

Sir,

It is eons, simply eons, since I have taken
quill to paper, being busy as I am with Matters of State and so on and so
forth.

However, I am most perturbed, most
perturbed, what what?

You want how much wood?

And labourers to build the contraption?

And brass?

And a wage for your sister, your sister,
what what? To be your Astronomical Assistant. Tosh! Women don’t get paid
,
you fluffy headed rapscallion!

And mirrors?

What is more, you never, ever refer to
Myself as, and I quote, ‘Your Maj’. I know you named a planet for my Most Royal
Self, but that does not make us equals. Indeed, sir, we are not. You are the
mouse to my barn owl, and never forget it.

However, I have been intrigued, and do need
after-dinner entertainment, so you will move with your sister and brother and
all the other necessaries to a location near Me. My Advisors have mentioned a
place called Slough. Never been there Myself, but there you shall reside. It is
up to you to find and clear the land and so on and so forth.

You shall be funded from The Royal Purse,
but I shall be keeping My eye firmly on you and your endeavours, sir. And My
Family and I shall visit regularly. One also expects you to give tours and the
like to other visitors that I might have the fancy to send your way.

I question my Sanity, I really do, what
what?

His Most Gracious of Royal Majesties,
Defender of the Realm and so on and so forth.

The King.

postscript The Royal Digits ache now

Lucretia looked up and smirked at Al. Her
blond, blue-eyed brother smirked back, put a forge-scarred finger to his lips,
and winked at her.

“Freddie! What have you gotten us into
this time?”

Freddie hung his head, dark eyes peering
out from equally dark lashes. Which he batted coquettishly.

“Now, now, my sibs. It is heavenward
for our family! Rejoice!”

*

Ms. H’s Celestial Millinery Marketplace,
Mr. H’s Emporium of Tremendous Telescopes, and Mr. H’s Wonderful Windups and Instruments
for Every Occasion stood side-by-side on one of the main thoroughfares of Bath.

Today, queues formed outside each, faces
peering in through the tiny panes of glass.

News of the siblings’ royal appointment had
travelled fast, as had the hopes of grabbing a bargain because the three
businesses were closing.

Ladies in jewel-coloured, much-ruffled
dresses and towering hairstyles waited to get into Lucretia’s shop, ducking
each elegant head to fit through the low doorway. Lucretia watched from behind
a highly-polished wooden counter surrounded by the fabrics, gemstones, false
fruit and stuffed birds which were the tools of her trade.

A brass ear trumpet and speaking tube
discreetly placed behind a huge potted fern connected her to Freddie’s shop
which was in the middle of the row. Freddie had the same device which in turn
connected him to Al.

“And how can I help you today, Mrs. W?”
Lucretia plastered a false smile to her face. Sometimes it did not come easily
to have to deal with these spoiled women with too much time on their hands.

Over-obsessed with fashion, they constantly
tried to outdo each other. Luckily for Lucretia, the current trend was for
hats. Huge hats. Enormous hats bedecked with all manner of fripperies and
flapdoodles. Their words, not hers.

The matron in front of her, cheeks stained
an unbecoming puce, waved a fan in front of her face in an agitated manner.

“Ms. H.”

“Mrs. W?”

“Ms. H.” The woman appeared to be
on the verge of passing out, so great was her excitement. “I have heard
you are moving to be near the king?”

“That is so, Mrs. W.”

“How hugely exciting!” The large
woman tittered, ridiculously over the age for such an exhibition. She clapped
her hands. “Too, too marvellous to say that I have my hats made by your
fair hand!”

“Yes, well.” Lucretia coughed
discreetly. “What can I do for you today, Mrs. W?”

“I have come to collect my hat, the
one with the owl on it, and the stars, and the comet, and the planets.” Mrs.
W beamed.

“Ah, yes, one moment please.”

Mrs. W tapped her foot in impatience as she
waited for her creation to be put into her outstretched hands.

Lucretia held out the towering edifice,
staggering slightly under the huge weight and diameter of it.

“Oh!” Mrs. W jiggled from foot to
foot. “How absolutely marvellous! Look at the owl! How life-like!”

Lucretia didn’t like to say quite how
enamoured Orion had been of the fake, smaller version of himself.

“The stars! And the moon! How very
darling,” squeaked Mrs. W. She patted Lucretia on the head.

“Let me help you with that,” said
Lucretia, more helpfully than she felt, when she saw Mrs. W take off her old
cherry, lemon, orange, and apple tree hat. Maybe the move to Slough would get
her away from chattering ninnies like Mrs. W for good. She could but hope.

Mrs. W walked slowly, it must be said, over
to the mirror to admire herself.

Lucretia stifled the urge to giggle as the hat
wobbled like a giant jelly atop the woman’s head.

Mrs. W turned to her, cheeks flushed, eyes
glistening and whispered, “How can I ever thank you? It is marvellous,
simply marvellous. Adorable.”

“I’m very glad you like it.”
Lucretia smiled. “I shall see if I have a large enough hat box for you to
carry it home in.”

“Will the wires and whatnot get
damaged by doing that?”

“Oh, no, Mrs. W, it will withstand
even the most fierce of storms, never mind a bit of board.”

The speaking trumpet blared into life. “Lucretia!
Lucretia! Are you there?” Freddie’s voice sounded tinny through the brass.

“Excuse me, won’t you,” she said
to her patron. “I won’t be a minute.”

“Freddie,” she whispered into the
brass trumpet, brushing a fern leaf out of her mouth. She really must move
that. “What is it? I’m with a customer!”

“Speak up, I can’t hear you!”

“I’m with a customer! What is it that
can’t wait?”

“Oh. Well, I have a shopper that I was
hoping you could help with.”

“For goodness sake, Freddie. They are
your telescopes, can’t you deal with it?”

“But the man is cross, Lucretia.”

“And that’s my problem because?”

“Oh, please, you know how good you are
at calming these old codgers.”

The customer bellowed that he was in no way
an old codger. Lucretia stepped back from the trumpet, rubbing her ear. Mrs. W
raised an over-plucked eyebrow. The mouse fur stuck atop it, as was the
fashion, jiggled.

“Freddie, I will be with you soon.”
She stepped away from the indignant squawking that issued from the trumpet. The
squawks grew quieter the further she got, and when she stood by Mrs. W she
could hear them no more.

“Hasn’t married yet, your brother, has
he?” Mrs. W mused. “I mean I can understand that Alexander is hardly
a lure for the finer female, what with his musical tours and deep involvement
with his inventions. And you.” She covered her mouth before any more words
could fly out and wound, blushing. “I am sorry, my dear, I didn’t mean it
that way. It’s just that…”

“Mrs. W.” Lucretia took a breath.
“I am used to such comments, think no more of it. But now, if you don’t
mind, I will take payment from you and box your hat.”

Her customer had the grace to be abashed
yet continued to chatter over the top to cover her embarrassment, piling
platitudes like plates after dinner.

“Really Mrs. W, don’t give it a
thought.” Lucretia beamed and practically pushed her out the door. She bolted
the door behind the older woman, and took a moment to catch her breath before
going to meet the irate customer at Mr. H’s Emporium of Tremendous Telescopes.

*

“There you are. Thank goodness.”
Freddie pounced on her as soon as the bell above the door of his shop tinkled. “I
couldn’t have waited another second for you!”

“Now, what appears to be the problem?”

“Ms. H, is it not?” A rather
portly gentleman walked with her over the knotty wooden shop floor. Freddie
winced every time the man’s girth caused him to bump into the small tables laid
out, their wares falling from the cunningly arranged displays.

Telescopes of various sizes stood in racks,
gazing at nothing but the ceiling. Mirrors and eye pieces littered Freddie’s
counter. Chunks of blue glass, some smoothed, some waiting to be ground
further, alongside the remains of his last meal and a browning apple core.

The man stretched out his hand as he
approached. “I understand that you are the soother of ‘old codgers’?”

“Mr.?”

“Mr. W my dear, I believe my wife has
purchased one of your hats?”

“Ah, yes. I know the lady. Anyway, I
am sure my brother meant nothing by it.” She took the man’s arm and
steered him to the counter.

Freddie stood back, smiling.

“You see,” said Mr. W, “I
can’t see.”

“Can’t see?”

“Quite so.”

“I’m dreadfully sorry, but what do you
mean?”

“Oh, dear, I have already tried to
describe my predicament to your brother.”

“Yes, but I’m here now. Tell me
instead.”

“Your brother made me a fine
telescope. Quite fine it is. The problem is, when I try to stargaze, I am met
with blank, black heavens. I take my eye away from it and look to the sky, and
there it is in all its twinkling glory. Put my eye back to the piece, nothing.
I have been to my doctor, and he informs me that there is nothing wrong with my
eye. I am at a loss.”