He took a step away from her and said, ‘Mercifully, I am not one of your unfortunate girls. I made that device for you, and I know precisely what it can do.’ He pulled on his gloves and gave a bow. ‘I will depart. I have an appointment. If everything goes to plan, I trust I will have better news for you tomorrow. Good evening, Drusilla, my dear.’ He put on his hat.
Miss Garnet rang the bell, and when her grim-faced maid appeared, she said, ‘Show my brother out.’ When the maid returned a few minutes later, she added, ‘Tidy this room, then bring me a cup of hot chocolate and a plate of buttered toast. Hot, mind. To my bedroom.’
‘Yes, Madam.’
Miss Garnet went through a door on the other side of the room and closed it behind her. Stella watched as the maid poked at the fire and hung the poker on a hook. She picked up the album from where Stella had left it on the chair and put it away on a shelf. She straightened several of the ornaments. Then she blew out the candles and, at last, left the room too.
Stella waited a moment or two, and then let herself become visible again, which made her head swim. She was stiff from standing so still. She took a breath, crept to the door, listened, then opened it cautiously and looked out. The passageway was empty. She slipped out of the parlour, closed the door softly behind her and tiptoed back up the stairs to the dormitory, as silently as a cat.
Agapanthus was sitting up in bed. ‘What happened? What did you do?’ she whispered.
Stella hesitated. She could not tell Agapanthus about Luna. And it was too strange, anyway. How could she explain that she had an invisible sister who told her what to do when she was asleep? ‘I think I was sleepwalking,’ she said. ‘And when I woke up, I was standing in the parlour, burning the page from the album with our pictures on it.’
Agapanthus whispered, ‘Wasn’t it utterly dreadful? It was like being stuck in a nightmare. All I could think about were all those horrible rules. Miss Garnet turned me into a good, quiet, obedient little girl.’ She shuddered. ‘I utterly cannot believe she could do that to me.’
‘I know,’ said Stella. ‘It was the same for me.’
‘But then I woke up. And I remembered it all. And also, I remembered that we have to go and save Ottilie. And I think that we need to go right now. Because as soon as Miss Garnet finds out what you’ve done, she’ll put us back in the album, straight away, won’t she?’
‘Or maybe she’ll do something worse,’ said Stella.
‘Yes,’ agreed Agapanthus. ‘And perhaps next time you won’t go sleepwalking and save us. And we might be stuck like that forever. Like all the other girls here. I’d like to burn the whole album and smash that machine to bits.’
Stella looked at the shapes of the obedient sleeping girls. ‘Let’s go, then,’ she whispered. ‘This might be our only chance.’
Agapanthus climbed out of bed, and they pushed their pillows under the blankets.
‘Let’s get dressed in the washroom,’ whispered Stella. They collected their clothes as silently as they could, bundled them up and tiptoed to the washroom. Stella struggled to get dressed in the darkness. Her fingers were cold, and she fumbled with the buttons and tapes. Agapanthus lost her balance and clutched Stella to steady herself, and they both broke into muffled giggles.
When she was ready at last, Stella went into the lavatory and felt around for the hiding place under the floorboard. She took out the little musical box and shoved it in the pocket of her dress. It was foolish, most likely, but she was so nervous, it would be comforting to have it with her.
They tiptoed down the stairs as quietly as they could. A sound made them freeze, and they ducked behind a doorway and watched as Miss McCragg clumped past, carrying a candle. They waited, holding their breath, until she went up the stairs. They crept on, past the mistresses’ rooms and the classrooms, and then down the back stairs to the cloakroom. In the darkness, they felt around for their damp coats, hats and boots and pulled them on. They took off the hat ribbons and pushed them into their coat pockets.
When they were ready, Agapanthus whispered, ‘Time to go.’
Light shone in through the coloured windows around the big front door. Agapanthus bent down and pulled back the bottom bolt. Stella stood on tiptoe to reach the top bolt. She shoved it across and opened the door.
The rain had stopped. Mist swirled, making the street lamps flicker.
Stella hesitated on the top step. The night was very cold, and somehow much bigger and darker than she had imagined it might be. She shivered.
Agapanthus produced a couple of toffees. She gave one to Stella. ‘Come on,’ she said.
Stella unwrapped the silver paper and put the toffee in her mouth. She nodded.
They closed the door of the school silently behind them and crept out into the misty night.
Twelve
Their footsteps echoed as they made their way along the street. A few lights gleamed in the windows of the tall houses. The shadows between the street lamps were very dark. A man came stumbling along the pavement towards them, muttering to himself. He saw them and broke into song. They scuttled across the road to avoid him. A dog barked from behind a high garden wall, making them jump. As they turned the corner into the High Street, a dark shadow dashed past, making Stella catch her breath. A cat, perhaps, or a fox.
She told Agapanthus what she had overheard in Miss Garnet’s study. ‘I was hiding,’ she said. ‘I heard Miss Garnet talking to her brother. She was trying to get him to do something for her, I think. I’m not sure.’
‘What’s her brother like?’ asked Agapanthus. ‘I can’t imagine Miss Garnet having a brother.’
‘He looked just like her,’ said Stella. ‘Except with a moustache.’
‘How utterly revolting,’ said Agapanthus.
The grand shops in the High Street were closing. They passed groups of tired-looking shop girls making their way home.
‘What will we do if we find Ottilie?’ asked Stella. ‘If we go back to school, Miss Garnet will put us all into her album again.’
‘I know,’ said Agapanthus. ‘But what else can we do? We can’t run away. Where would we go? If we went to my home, my grandmother would just send us straight back to school. She would think that Miss Garnet’s album was utterly marvellous. She always wants me to be quiet and obedient. She wants me to be more like my sisters.’
Stella nodded. ‘That’s exactly what my Aunts would think. That’s why they sent me to school in the first place. They were in the album themselves.’ She thought about that for a moment. ‘That does explain quite a lot about them, actually. Aunt Deliverance had Wilful Disobedience written under her name. The same as me. And she ended up being the Head Girl and winning prizes.’
Agapanthus groaned. ‘We don’t want to turn out like that.’
Stella went on, ‘And I discovered what my mother did too. I found her picture in the album. It said, Wilful, Wanton, Wicked. Run Away with an Unacceptable Person. Expelled.’
‘An unacceptable person,’ said Agapanthus. ‘Who was that, do you think?’
‘Well, I did think it might be my father,’ said Stella. She frowned. ‘Maybe my mother ran away from school with him.’
‘Who was he?’ asked Agapanthus. ‘Why was he unacceptable?’
‘I don’t know anything about him at all. I don’t even know his name. All I know is my Aunts disapproved of him. Of course, they disapprove of almost everything.’
‘Do you think he helped her escape from school? I wonder how she met him,’ said Agapanthus.
‘I don’t know,’ said Stella. ‘But if that’s what happened, I can see why the Aunts are so disapproving. And why she was expelled.’
Agapanthus whistled between her teeth. ‘My grandmother would utterly explode if I got expelled. Well, perhaps we’ll think of something. But if we can’t run away, at least at school Ottilie would be safe from those men.’
‘If we find her,’ said Stella.
‘We’ll just keep looking until we do,’ said Agapant
hus with determination. ‘We know she’s at the fairground somewhere.’
They reached the end of the High Street and crossed Museum Square. The Memorial Fountain was quiet. Water dripped from the basin into the pool. The museum was dark. They followed the street around behind it, past the row of tiny shops, and began to climb up the hill to the fairground.
Groups of young men and women were strolling down the hill from the fair, arm in arm. Families were coming home, the fathers carrying the littlest children in their arms, the older children stumbling along behind, half-asleep. Light spilled from the open door of a public house. Street stalls were selling hot chestnuts and coffee and pies.
As they got closer to the fairground, they could hear the engines thumping and the jangling music from the steam organs. Fireworks shot up into the sky, red and gold and green. There was a loud bang and then another.
They pushed their way in through the crowds. The swirling mist and coloured lights made everything look as if it were floating. The horses and griffons on the merry-go-round seemed to swoop through the darkness like creatures from another world. Young men plunged down the tall, curving slide of the Helter-Skelter, hooting with laughter as they hurtled around and around and slammed into the ground.
In an open space near the swing boats, two men were fighting, throwing wild, swinging punches. Men and boys shouted and cheered as they swigged from tin mugs, their faces lit up from the coloured flashes of fireworks overhead.
Stella gripped Agapanthus’s hand tightly as they made their way around the edge of the crowd.
People were coming out of the sideshow tents. The bearded lady poked her head out and looked up at the sky. She had a long, wispy beard and wore a midnight-blue turban decorated with peacock feathers. She saw Stella watching and gave her a wink before lacing up the tent flap and striding away.
‘Look out!’ Agapanthus whispered, and pulled Stella into the shadows around the side of the Hoop-La. One of the Gabbro brothers was shouldering his way through the crowd. He was carrying a large bundle wrapped in sacking over his shoulder and chewing a piece of cold sausage.
They watched him pass, then crept out of their hiding place and went on. They reached the edge of the fairground and made their way to the red-and-yellow wagon. The padlock was gone. Stella pulled the door open and looked inside. The wagon was empty. The walls were lined with wooden shelves. In a corner of the floor was a crumpled blanket and a tin plate and a mug.
‘We’re too late,’ said Agapanthus with her hands on her hips. ‘She’s gone.’
Stella looked around. She tried to imagine Ottilie frightened, huddled in the blanket. She crouched down. Perhaps Ottilie had left a clue.
She spied something scratched into the wood, underneath the lowest shelf. It was too dark to see it clearly. She traced the scratches carefully with her finger. It was a drawing of a small garden slug.
‘Look at this. It’s her walrus.’
Agapanthus knelt beside her and peered underneath the shelf. She ran her finger along the scratched lines of the tiny drawing. ‘You’re right. That is her walrus, isn’t it? But why didn’t she write something?’
‘Perhaps she was too frightened. She hid it under here, where they wouldn’t see it.’ Stella felt along the underside of the shelf. ‘There’s something else too. What’s this supposed to be, do you think?’
Agapanthus felt it and frowned. ‘It might be anything,’ she said. ‘Ottilie’s utterly dreadful at drawing, isn’t she? I wish we had a candle.’ She ran her fingers over the scratches again. ‘Well, it feels like a snake climbing up a tree. That makes no sense.’
Stella traced the shape with her finger. ‘It’s a tower, I think,’ she said. ‘Or a lighthouse. And this snake bit goes around — Oh! It’s the Helter-Skelter, isn’t it?’
‘Well, it might be,’ admitted Agapanthus.
‘I think it’s a message. A clue,’ said Stella. She felt along the shelf for more scratches, but there was nothing. She stood up. ‘Come on.’
They looked warily out of the wagon, climbed down and made their way back past the sideshows towards the Helter-Skelter. The fairground was beginning to close. The engines were slowing, banging and clanking and hissing steam. A man blew out the coloured glass lanterns around the entrance of a sideshow tent. At the Hoop-La, a girl was flinging the little toy camels and elephants and horses into a cardboard box.
‘Git movin’.’ One of the Gabbro brothers was hurrying people along. He was sucking on a marrowbone as he walked. ‘Fair’s closin’. Go on. Git on home.’
Stella pulled Agapanthus away from him, around behind the merry-go-round. They ducked down, watching him through the legs of the horses.
‘We should hide until everyone’s gone,’ whispered Stella.
They found a dark corner beside a gingerbread stall and crouched behind a pile of empty crates, waiting as the fairground became quieter, the steam engines stopped and the lights went out. They could see the top of the Helter-Skelter. A row of red and blue lanterns flickered there in the breeze. The slide curved around, gleaming in the darkness. As they watched, a figure appeared at the top of the tower and blew out the lanterns, one by one.
A man walked past, whistling and carrying a tool bag, and then a group of young men, laughing. Three girls came by, wearing shabby coats over their spangled costumes.
At last, everything was quiet.
‘Let’s go,’ said Agapanthus.
Stella gripped her arm. ‘Wait!’
One of the Gabbro brothers strode past. They crept out of their hiding place and followed him cautiously, keeping to the shadows. He ran up the stairs of the Helter-Skelter and went inside.
Stella and Agapanthus ducked into the dark shadow behind the ticket booth.
After several moments, all three Gabbro brothers came out of the tower together. One of them closed the door and locked it with a padlock.
‘That’s done,’ he said, looking around. ‘So, boys. We go and tell him we got her hidden away somewhere secret, right and tight, and if he wants her, he’ll be payin’ us a bit more. A guinea apiece, this time.’
The other two laughed. One of them rubbed his hands together. ‘It’ll be oyster pies for us.’
‘Pig’s knuckles, all swimming in gravy,’ said the third brother, smacking his lips.
They hurried away together, towards the entrance to the fairground.
Stella and Agapanthus waited until the brothers were out of sight.
Stella breathed, ‘Let’s go.’
They climbed the steps to the door of the Helter-Skelter. Agapanthus rattled the padlock. Stella whispered, ‘Ottilie! Ottilie! Are you in there?’
There was no answer.
Agapanthus called, a bit louder, ‘Ottilie! It’s us! Are you there?’
A faint sound came from somewhere above their heads.
‘Did you hear that?’ whispered Stella.
‘No.’
‘I’m sure I heard something. Is there another way in?’
They climbed down the stairs and looked up at the tower.
‘Do you think we could get up the slide?’ whispered Agapanthus. She clambered up onto it, but only managed two steps before she came slithering back down, hitting the ground with a thump. ‘No,’ she said, frowning and rubbing her behind. ‘Perhaps not.’
They walked around the back of the tower.
Agapanthus poked at the boards with the toe of her boot. ‘It’s rotten,’ she said. She grabbed the lowest board, braced her feet and heaved. There was a crack and a tearing sound. The board broke. She managed to wrench part of it away. ‘We could squeeze under there, don’t you think?’ she asked, panting.
Stella eyed the narrow gap doubtfully. She crouched down and peered underneath. The ground was soft and muddy. ‘Maybe.’ She lay down and squeezed her head and shoulders through. For a moment, she thought that she was stuck, but she wriggled with determination and managed to pull herself underneath the broken board, through the wet mud, tearing her
stockings and scraping her leg.
‘I’m in. Come on,’ she whispered.
Agapanthus’s head appeared. Stella grabbed her hands and helped pull her through.
‘Ouch!’ whispered Agapanthus.
They scrambled to their feet. It was very dark. Stella reached around and felt rough wooden scaffolding.
‘Ottilie! Are you there?’ she called.
Far above in the darkness they heard a squeak and desperate thumping sounds.
Thirteen
Stella and Agapanthus scrambled up the scaffolding to the entrance platform. Steep wooden stairs led up to the top of the tower. They began to climb, feeling their way in the darkness. The stairs creaked. Faint light filtered down from above.
‘Ottilie!’ called Stella. ‘We’re coming.’
There were more thumping sounds from overhead.
They found Ottilie lying on a landing, wrapped up like a giant cocoon. She had been shoved into a hessian sack and tied up with rope. They felt for the knots. Stella used her fingers and teeth and managed to loosen them. They unwound the rope and pulled the sack off Ottilie’s head. She was making muffled squeaks. A handkerchief was over her mouth. Stella untied it.
Ottilie gasped for breath. ‘Y-you came!’ she said, and burst into tears.
‘Of course we came,’ said Agapanthus.
‘Don’t cry,’ said Stella, patting her.
‘I was so frightened. I didn’t think anyone would find me,’ said Ottilie. ‘I thought that if I rolled over, I’d fall down the stairs. And also I think there are rats in here.’
Agapanthus said, ‘Here, have a toffee.’
Ottilie unwrapped the silver paper. ‘Thank you.’ She sucked the toffee. ‘W-we have to be quick,’ she added, her voice shaking as she wriggled herself out of the hessian sack. ‘They’re coming back. They said they were going to get him, and then come straight back.’
‘Get who?’ asked Agapanthus, as they helped Ottilie to her feet. She was shivering. Stella put her arm around her.
‘The gentleman, that’s all they said.’
Wakestone Hall Page 8