Storm Child (4 page)

Six

There was a moment where nobody spoke and the hall was
filled with a silence so heavy you could almost hold it.  Charlotte held
her breath and stared, first at the baby, then at her mother, who slowly drew
the baby back to the safety of her bosom.

‘Mrs Brown…’she began, ‘would you
let Mr Finch know that we will be taking care of this little girl after all.’
She said this, almost as if she couldn’t believe her words herself, as if
someone was talking through her.

Mrs Brown stared at all three of
them, and then with an impatient click of her tongue, spun round to leave
them.  ‘I’m sure you can see yourselves out.  Good day to you, Mrs
Harding,’ she called behind, her voice growing smaller as she retreated into
the house. ‘Have no fear, I’m certain that little monster will find her way
back to us eventually….’

‘Good day. And sorry for….’
Charlotte’s mother didn’t get to finish, as Mrs Brown had already left them
alone in the high-walled lobby. ‘Well,’ she turned to Charlotte, with an
expression that showed she was still surprised at the strange turn of events,
‘I suppose we’d better get back. We’ve a long walk and it promises to be dark
before teatime today.’

They crept out from the vast
sandstone house, shutting the front door with a heavy
clunk
behind them.

Later, the three of them were gathered round the warm embers
of the kitchen fire eating their supper of bread and the jam Charlotte’s mother
had made from the last of the summer’s
strawberries.       

‘I suppose,’ began Charlotte’s mother,
looking at the baby thoughtfully, ‘we should give her a name.’

‘She could be an Agnes.’
Charlotte suggested.

‘No, I don’t think so.’

‘Jane?’

‘No, she doesn’t look like a Jane
either.’

‘
Erm
…Hildegard?’

‘Goodness, no!’ Charlotte’s
mother laughed. ‘That’s the name of my horrid old maiden aunt – where on earth
did you find that one?’

‘I don’t know, really I don’t. It
just popped into my head.’

‘Well, please un-pop it
immediately.’

Charlotte grinned up at her
mother. But then her face was crossed by a troubled shadow.  They might
never know who had left the little girl out in the storm.  That didn’t
worry her.  What worried her was that whoever it was might come back. What
worried her was what else may come from out of the darkness.

Seven

Isaac slowly opened his eyes with a groan. 

‘Don’t move,’ Polly said, putting
a hand on his chest. ‘Wait until the world stops spinning.’

‘How did you know?’ he croaked as
he closed his eyes again.

‘You think I never had a clout
round the head before?’  

‘What happened?’

‘We got robbed, that’s what.’

He opened his eyes again. ‘We got
robbed?’

‘You didn’t see him?’ Annie
asked, dragging the cover from the cart. ‘He’ll be cold,’ she said in answer to
Polly’s questioning look as she draped it over him and tucked it around his
body.

‘We’ll all be cold if we don’t
get moving,’ Polly replied, casting a glance at the orange ball of the sun, now
slipping below a distant line of skeletal trees.

Isaac threw one leg over the
other to get up.

‘We got five minutes,’ Polly
said, pushing him back. If you stand up now you’ll only go and fall down again
so you might as well stay where you are.’

‘Doctor Black will be angry when
we go home with no money,’ Annie said.

‘
Ol
’
Ernie?  He will at that,’ Polly agreed. 

‘Maybe we shouldn’t go back,’
Annie whispered, scanning the heath nervously, as though the ferns and bracken
were listening to them.

‘That would be very much worse,’
Polly said, her voice deadly serious now. ‘Wouldn’t it, Isaac?’ She looked down
at him but he didn’t reply.  His eyes were closed; his arms limp by his
sides once more. ‘Isaac?’ she nudged him.  ‘Heaven help us, he’s only gone
again.’

‘I’m here…’ he mumbled. ‘
Wassermarrer
…’

‘You’re the matter, you great
lump.  Fancy getting yourself a crack on the head.  Talk about knight
in shining armour.  More like damsel in distress.’ It was then that Polly
noticed him trembling.  She sighed and began to unbutton her coat. 

‘You’ll freeze!’ Annie squeaked.

‘Not half as quick as him lying there,’
she grimaced as she wrapped the extra layer around Isaac. ‘Give it another half
an hour or so, and we’ll have to try an’ get him on the cart an’ drag him back
if he don’t look like he can walk it.’

Annie hugged herself and
shivered.  ‘Last time I was here I heard wolves.’

‘Polly narrowed her eyes. ‘Was it
just here you left your sister?’

‘Not here, no…’

‘Why don’t you trust me?’ Polly
held her gaze until Annie pulled away and stared down at her hands.

‘It
ain’t
that,’ she said awkwardly, ‘it’s just that…’

‘I’ve lived with Ernesto since I
were a nipper and you don’t really know how thick we are together.  Is
that what you mean?’

‘I only got here a few months
ago, didn’t I?’

‘It’s alright,’ Polly said. ‘I’d
be
thinkin
’ the same thing if it were me.’ 

‘You get away with things we
never could,’ Annie replied, glancing at Isaac who seemed to be out cold again.
‘You’re his favourite.’

‘I may be his favourite, but that
don’t mean I have to like him, does it?  I do what I have to do to
survive.  As soon as he meets his maker, I want that house of his. 
He
ain’t
got nobody of his own, so far as I can tell,
so I reckon I’ll be in line,’ she sniffed and wiped her nose across the back of
her hand, ‘so long as I play him right.’

‘But you say the naughtiest
things to him.’

‘But I know him, see.  I
know he likes me ‘cos I’m quick and clever and he can trust me to bring him
money in, so he puts up with it.’

‘He might not feel that way
tonight when we turn up empty handed.’

Polly yawned. ‘You might have a
point there.  Perhaps we should run away and join the circus.’

‘I thought we
were
the
circus.’

‘Polly smiled.  ‘That we
are.  I’m telling you now, though,’ she continued, her tone subdued again,
‘he’s taken you in and given you grub and a bed, and he wants something in
return for that, don’t he?  You make him money and clean his house and
he’s happy,
ain’t
he?  You keep his
possessions
safe…’ she stressed the word, staring hard at Annie who swallowed back the
sudden knot of fear in her throat, ‘and you don’t cross Ernesto Black… not
ever.’  She leaned back and regarded Annie, looking for some indication
that her warning had sunk in.  ‘So if you know what’s good for you, you’ll
go and get that baby back and maybe he’ll say no more about it.’

‘I can’t,’ Annie replied. ‘I
don’t know who took her.’

Polly shrugged and turned her
attention to Isaac.  ‘He looks awful sweet when he’s
sleepin
’,
don’t
he
?’ she said with obvious affection.

Annie followed her gaze. ‘He
ain’t
sleeping, though, he’s been cracked over the head.’

‘It all looks the same to me.’

‘You like him really, even though
you pretend you don’t,’ Annie said.

‘Yeah, I like him well
enough.  But I want a rich fella, see, so he
ain’t
no good to me.’

Annie looked at her sharply.
‘That
ain’t
nice.’

‘The truth, though.  I
learned that lesson early, didn’t I?  Always be on the lookout for the
next mug.  It’s what Ernesto taught me,
ain’t
it? I don’t want to live in the gutter my whole life.’  She shook
herself.  ‘We’d better get him on that cart somehow.  He
ain’t
waking up any time soon.’   

Annie got to her feet and went
over to the cart.  The light was fading rapidly now, the world washed in
grey as she scooped the contents of the cart to one side as best she could. 
Glancing across, she caught the brief kiss that Polly placed on the forehead of
Isaac, and turned away quickly before Polly could see her watching. 

‘He’ll have to lie on the table
but I moved most everything else out of the way,’ Annie said as she went back
to help Polly lift him.  They took an arm each and dragged him to the
tilted cart, hauling him onto the upturned table, wooden legs surrounding him
like a cage. 

‘He’s heavier than he looks,
ain’t
he?’ Polly wiped her hands down her dress. Isaac’s
legs dangled over the edge, but when they lifted the handle he just cleared the
ground.  She grimaced. ‘Not much fun but the best we can do.  You
ready?’ Annie nodded. ‘Come on then,’ Polly said, straining to get moving,
‘let’s see what Ernesto has to say about all this.’

The sun had already set by the time they reached the
sprawling house they shared with Doctor Ernesto Black. Nobody really knew why
he carried the title of doctor, and as far as anyone could tell, he certainly
wasn’t worthy of it.  He spoke often of a life before the orphans, where
he had been a gentleman meant for greatness, but whenever questioned on what
that greatness was, he would wave away the enquiry with a vague excuse. He was
even more guarded when questioned about his family or connections.

 Polly’s gaze ran over the
exterior of her home as they dragged the cart containing a still unconscious
Isaac through the wrought iron gates.  Even the faintest glow from the
lamps burning inside was enough to reveal how dilapidated the building was,
though it was clear from the grandness of the design that it had once been a
handsome dwelling. It was one of the reasons Polly gave any credit to Ernesto’s
claims that life had treated him cruelly, and had torn from the young Master
Black all its promises of a bright future. Now, the gravelled driveway of the
house was pitted with holes and choked by weeds; to either side dense shrubs
clawed their way onto the path, like the thorns of Sleeping Beauty’s
prison.  Window frames were rotting and loose and the lights from within
showed the gaps around the front door. The orphans did their best with the
upkeep, but it was a task far too large for three children to manage and
Ernesto certainly wasn’t interested in such low pursuits as household maintenance.
And so, year upon year, the house fell into a slightly worse state of
disrepair.

The front door opened and
Ernesto’s huge bulk filled the frame. ‘Where have you been?’  His gaze
fell on Isaac.  ‘What happened to him?’

Polly nodded at Annie and they set
down the handle of the cart.  Isaac slid down the incline and Annie shot
out a hand to steady him.

‘Got clobbered over the ‘
ead
, didn’t he?’ Polly huffed.

‘What are you trying to tell me?’
Ernesto said as he made his way down the porch steps to them.

‘I’m telling you we got robbed.’

‘What!’ Ernesto thundered.

‘It weren’t my fault,’ Polly
fired back, planting her hands on her hips. ‘He weren’t looking out!  Fat
lot of good you
sendin
’ us out with a boy, we need a
man out with us, don’t we?’

‘It weren’t Isaac’s fault,’ Annie
said quietly.  ‘None of us saw the robber
comin
’.’

Ernesto seemed to shake,
struggling to contain his rage.  His gaze bored into them. Annie’s eyes
were wide with apprehension as she held her breath, waiting for the next
event.  The moment was broken by a long howl from somewhere close
by.  The sound seemed to bring Ernesto back to himself.  He gave a
low grunt and turned to go into the house, his long coat sweeping the
steps. 

‘Get him inside.  And don’t
think you’re eating tonight.’

Polly opened her mouth to argue
but then closed it again.  She looked at Annie. ‘Even I
ain’t
crossin
’ him tonight,’ she
said in a low voice.  Her attention turned to Isaac.  ‘Give me a hand
with ‘
im
, sweet.’

Annie looked down at the boy
uncertainly.  ‘Don’t he need a doctor?  He’s been out cold for
hours.’

‘The only doctor round ‘ere,’
Polly inclined her head towards the now deserted front door, ‘is in there, and
he
ain’t
in the mood for ministering right now. 
You can ask ‘
im
, but I
ain’t
.’

‘What about Isaac?’

Polly shrugged.  ‘We’ll get
him in his bed.  Happen he’ll wake in the
mornin
’
right as rain.’

‘What if he don’t?  I heard
all sorts of stories about folks who’d been clobbered over the head, like they
turn simple or forget who they are.’

Polly cast a glance at Isaac. ‘Be
an improvement, then,’ she muttered before grabbing an arm and hauling him up.

Polly knocked at the door of the study. When she did not get
the usual gruff reply, she cautiously pushed open the door and put her head around
it. 

‘Ernesto?’

He was sitting at his desk, hands
folded in front of him, staring at the opposite wall.  At the sound of her
voice he turned his attention to her.

‘If you think I’m going to change
my mind about supper, you can think again. We needed that money.’

‘I weren’t
goin
’
to ask for supper,’ Polly said.  ‘I were only bringing you a tot of
somethin
’ to cheer you.’

‘I don’t want cheering.’  He
rose from his seat at the desk and made his way to the gaslight on the wall,
twisting the screw so that the light dimmed.  Taking a seat in a
wing-backed armchair, he patted the small side table that stood next to
it.  Polly took the decanter she was carrying over and placed it beside
him with a glass. Without a word he poured himself a generous measure and took
a deep draught.

‘You won’t be too savage with
Isaac, will you?’ Polly asked.

‘It would be better for the
useless lump if he didn’t wake up,’ Ernesto growled. 

‘He’s good with the punters,
though,’ Polly said. 

Ernesto topped his glass. ‘He is
that.’  He fell to brooding again as Polly stood and waited, the only
sounds filling the dusty silence her shallow breathing and the sonorous ticking
of the clock.  

‘I don’t belong here, Poll,’
Ernesto said finally. 

She looked at him with a silent
question.

‘I had a fortune and now look at
me. Stuck in a damp-ridden pit with three useless orphans who can’t even bring
me a decent living.  And I’ve a good mind to whip that ungrateful wretch,
Annie, till she begs for death.’

‘What’s Annie done?’ Polly asked
quietly.

‘You know full well,’ he replied.
‘That baby was our golden goose, and Annie saw to it that we lost it.’

‘It don’t make no difference,’
Polly said in a soothing voice. ‘The punters don’t know real magic from
pretend.  It’s just tricks an’ they’re happy.’

‘She wasn’t for performing. 
She was far more precious than that.’  He rubbed a huge hand over the
sooty stubble erupting from his chin.

‘What
d’you
mean?’

‘The baby does have magic, you’re
right, and she was exactly what they were searching for.’

‘Who?’

Ernesto ignored her
question.  ‘I’ve been looking for a child with real magic for years, just
like they asked me, and they would have paid me well.’ He drained his glass and
knocked it onto the table. ‘Well enough to see me live in luxury for the rest
of my days.’

Polly folded her arms, her
expression thoughtful.  ‘If the baby had magic, then what about
Annie?  She’s got the same mama,
ain’t
she,
d’you
think she has magic?’

Ernesto shook his head. 
‘No, she’s as useless as you and that other dolt upstairs.  Besides she’s
too old.  They want a child under seven.’

Polly frowned.  ‘That sounds
strange.  What do they want that for?  A nipper can’t do street
performin
’ for ‘
em
.’

‘I don’t know,’ he replied. 

Polly wasn’t sure she believed
him. On a different day she might have challenged him, but today didn’t seem
like the day to push her luck. ‘Who is it that wants the little ‘
un
?’ she asked again.