Under Gornstock

by Clive Mullis

  They needn’t have bothered.

  The minister walked along oblivious to the goings-on behind him. As he passed one of the dwarf entrances, he took a moment to pause and a knowing smirk tickled his lips, which, Frankie, walking nearest to him, noticed and wondered what the minister knew that they didn’t.

  Once beyond the entrance, he took a left turn up a side street and then turned right at the top. There were fewer pedestrians here so the three following became more cautious, increasing the distance from the target.

  Frankie stopped and waited for Dewdrop and Felicity to catch up.

  ‘You’re a couple, now,’ he said staring into a shop front of kitchenware. ‘Get closer and I’ll tag along behind.’

  Dewdrop and Felicity linked arms and carried on, increasing their pace slightly to catch up with the minister.

  Brooksturner paused at a row of shops before quickly opening a door and stepping inside.

  ‘What’s that he’s gone into?’ asked Felicity, frowning.

  ‘I don’t know,’ replied Dewdrop. ‘Let’s find out.’

  They walked forward a bit and looked up to read the sign of a shop selling balls of wool and knitting accessories.

  ‘Uh? What’s he interested in that for?’ asked Dewdrop.

  ‘Hang on, he’s coming out again.’

  Brooksturner exited the shop and rubbed his hands with glee before moving off and into the next shop in the line: this one being a small grocery.

  The two feelers were standing by the first shop and turned to stare into the empty window: no merchandise, no goods for sale and a dark dispirited interior of nothing.

  Frankie quickly approached them. ‘Go and buy a ball of wool, find out what he wanted in there.’

  ‘What?’ asked Felicity.

  ‘Ask some questions, friendly-like.’

  ‘Okay,’ she replied, a bit uncertain.

  Dewdrop and Felicity entered the wool shop and saw the man behind the counter with his head in his hands; he peered at them through the digits of his fingers and tried to compose himself.

  ‘Can I help you, miss?’

  ‘Er, I’d like a ball of wool, please.’

  ‘You’ve come to the right place, then. It would help if you could expand a bit on that, as it will give me a clue as to what you want.’

  ‘Oh, right, sorry. It’s for my cat.’

  The man nodded and reached beneath the counter. ‘Will this one do? Popular amongst the cat fraternity, is this.’

  ‘Is that what the other man got?’ asked Dewdrop, warming to the task. ‘I mean the one that just left.’

  The shop owner’s eyes narrowed and his mouth twitched. ‘Gods, don’t mention him. That was my landlord.’

  ‘Landlord? You don’t seem happy with him.’

  ‘Would you be happy if he wants to double the rent?’

  ‘Er, no. That doesn’t sound fair.’

  ‘It’s not. He owns this whole row and wants us all out, so he can redevelop it. That one there,’ he threw his thumb in the direction of the empty shop, ‘has already left.’

  ‘But you’re going to stay?’

  ‘Been here fifteen years: it’s my life. I’ll stay as long as I can, but… you know?’ and he shrugged helplessly.

  Felicity and Dewdrop nodded in understanding.

  ‘Bit of a bastard, then?’ said Dewdrop.

  ‘Not a bit of one, a total one.’

  Felicity put on a sympathetic look; she didn’t have to try very hard. ‘Just my wool then, please. I’m sorry for you. Let’s hope he has an accident or something.’

  ‘I can assure you, I keep hoping.’

  They left the shop and looked around for Frankie who seemed to have vanished off the face of the twearth. Brooksturner emerged from the last shop in the row and headed purposefully off in the general direction of away.

  Dewdrop and Felicity were in a bit of a quandary; follow Brooksturner or look for Frankie?

  They followed Brooksturner.

  Felicity left Dewdrop and crossed the road. A couple of carts trundled by and a few pedestrians managed to give enough cover for both of them to blend into the background. Up ahead, the minister continued on his way, moving quite smartly for a short fat man, his waddling gate propelling him along at a pretty decent rate.

  Felicity had just passed a doorknob emporium when she sensed a shadow behind her, a big looming shadow.

  ‘It’s only me,’ assured Frankie, stepping up and alongside her.

  Felicity breathed a sigh of relief.

  ‘What’s he up to?’

  ‘He wants the whole row out so he can redevelop it,’ she answered. ‘He owns it.’

  ‘Ah, typical of that kind: always wants more, never happy with what they’ve got; rich bastards always want to be richer.’

  ‘Oh, er… but Mr Cornwallis is rich, though?’

  ‘He is, but he doesn’t really care if he’s rich or not. No, tell a lie, he likes being rich but it’s not exactly what he is, if you get my drift. He’s the exception.’

  ‘Ah,’

  ‘Not like that bastard over there: now, I wonder where he’s going to take us next?’

  The answer to that question came just two streets further on when he went into another shop: this one an agent for travellers to distant lands.

  ‘What’s he gone in there for?’ asked Felicity as Frankie stood next to her.

  Across the road, Dewdrop looked at the agents and shrugged, just as flummoxed as they were.

  ‘Another place he owns?’ suggested Frankie, scratching his head. ‘Wants to go on holiday somewhere?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so,’ replied Felicity, who had better eyesight than Frankie did. They were on the opposite side of the road to the shop and looking from a distance. ‘There’s a guild plaque by the door and didn’t you and Mr Cornwallis say that you thought a guild was involved?’

  ‘Yes, we did say that,’ answered Frankie, furrowing his brow and trying to focus on the blurred outline of the plaque.

  ‘What do we do now?’ she asked.

  ‘Let’s go and see which guild it is.’

  They took their lives in their hands crossing the busy street, full of people and traffic going about their business and Dewdrop waited patiently as Frankie and Felicity dodged a couple of carts and came over to join him.

  ‘You two don’t fancy a trip to faraway lands, do you?’ asked Frankie.

  Felicity and Dewdrop raised their eyebrows.

  ‘You paying?’ asked Dewdrop hopefully.

  Frankie’s eyes narrowed. ‘Bollocks to that,’ he answered forcefully. ‘Look, you don’t have to book, just make an enquiry.’

  ‘But we don’t look like we could afford something like that.’

  ‘You don’t need to; people do it all the time. Anyway, just say you’ve got an inheritance coming. Some rich eccentric granny has snuffed it and left you a shed-load of cash.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Felicity hesitantly. ‘But where do we want to go?’

  ‘Oh, I dunno. What about seeing the apes in their natural habitat, or go see the dragons out east, or go and see that land out west, which is a bit wild and where they think they can speak inglionish? You know, the city they call the Big Banana or something. Some explorer found it years ago when he took a wrong turn trying to find the dragon route. What do they call it?’

  ‘Merca,’ replied Felicity. ‘Unified States of Merca.’

  ‘Yeah, that one. I ‘ear lots of people want to go there for some reason.’

  ‘They call it the land of the free.’

  ‘Well, there you are; shouldn’t cost you a penny, then.’

  ‘No, not that type of fr…’ she limped to a stop, not sure if Frankie intended the joke or not. ‘Er… We’ll check the prices for Merca, then. Come on, Cecil.’

  ‘Uh?’ replied Dewdrop who had lost concentration.

  ‘We’re going to pretend to go to Merca. You’re paying.’

  ‘Great; better do a bit more overtime, t
hen.’

  ‘Yeah, you do that Dewdrop, and while you’re in there, see if you can hear what Brooksturner is up to.’

  ‘And what will you be doing?’

  ‘I will be looking at the plaque and waiting for you to come out.’

  Frankie grinned as Dewdrop and Felicity once again linked arms and aimed for the agent’s shop. He watched them glance at the plaque as they went past and hesitate, briefly, before stepping forward and pushing open the door. At least Felicity looked like someone who might have a bit of money and could afford to take a trip across the sea, he thought, as he watched them go inside.

  He sidled up to the plaque and leant forward, peering at the inscription. What the buggery have they got against The Pipe, he thought, as he read the name of the guild.

  Chapter 29

  Phimp didn’t look a happy bunny. He even ignored Sal’s Sizzler, not giving it even a glance, as he pounded down the steps of the Assembly and hit the pavement. He stood there a moment taking big deep breaths as he blocked the path of the crowds of people who were eager to look at Gornstock’s seat of power. Eventually, he got the message, being the recipient of a few nudges and a fair bit of jostling, that he was in the way and stalked off with a frown of discontent painted on his face.

  Cornwallis elbowed MacGillicudy as Rose and Tiffany stood up. ‘You with Tiffany, me with Rose,’ he said, indicating Phimp with a jerk of his head. ‘Fluffy will do what he wants.’

  ‘There’s gratitude for youse,’ growled the cat from ground level. ‘Put’s me life on the line and what fanks do I gets? “Do what youse wants,” I asks youse.’ If he could have, he would have thrown his paws into the air.

  ‘You come with us,’ said Rose. ‘I appreciate what you do for us, even if misery-guts here doesn’t.’

  ‘What?’ said Cornwallis. ‘I’m not miserable and I do appreciate what Fluffy does for us. You’re maligning an innocent man. I’m just being dynamic, making a decision and while we stand around yacking like this, Phimp will be gone and out of sight.’

  He had a point as Phimp had already walked a good few yards down the road, increasing his pace as he stomped along in determined fashion.

  ‘Quick, let’s go,’ ordered Cornwallis.

  They hurried after, splitting into the designated pairs with Fluffy trailing after Rose and Cornwallis. They needed to get closer to Phimp as the bustle along The Trand kept obscuring their view. People were everywhere and the carts, cabs and coaches jammed the road: everyone wanted to get to somewhere and it seemed that everyone wanted to get to the somewhere, now. It was gridlocked and a poor unfortunate feeler would have to come along and sort out the mess. Tiffany and the commander, both thankful they weren’t in uniform, tried not to look at the chaos.

  Cornwallis and Rose quickly gave up trying to follow on the opposite side of the road; they found a gap between two carts and slid between, finding themselves a few yards back from Tiffany and the commander. Fluffy, tail in the air, followed on behind.

  Phimp turned off The Trand and travelled down a slightly less busy street, but here he started being accosted by street vendors selling all sorts of Gornstock tat to unsuspecting tourists from out of town: there were flags; little models of the Assembly; hats with the legend “I love Gornstock” written on; boxes of matches with a picture of a Gornstock cab on the top; toy batons and jingly bells; any amount of Morris paraphernalia; little toys for little hands; shirts with clever and witty sayings on the front; all of it guaranteed to fall apart within five minutes of use. It was proper Gornstockian enterprise and Phimp sailed through it all with an expression of disdain on his face.

  Rose watched from behind as Tiffany and MacGillicudy tried to blend in; it seemed to her that the commander walked a little bit more proudly with his chest puffed out and his head held high as they tried to appear as if they belonged together. Tiffany seemed to be playing along, possibly even instigating the illusion as she and the commander negotiated the crowds of people.

  ‘Jethro seems to be enjoying himself,’ observed Rose. ‘Look at him.’

  ‘Uh?’ said Cornwallis, the statement catching him off balance.

  ‘Well, he is. It’s not everyday he walks down the road with a pretty girl on his arm.’

  ‘Jethro hardly knows what one looks like,’ said Cornwallis. ‘The Yard takes up all of his time.’

  ‘Yes, but he’s still a man, and he’s not exactly old, is he?’

  ‘Middle forties, I think, but he eats, drinks and sleeps the service; he’s got “feeler” stamped on his soul. Anyway, we’ve been through this before; he’s had plenty of opportunity, but, as he says, he’s got other things to worry about.’

  ‘I know, it’s just seeing him, albeit on a job, with a girl. It doesn’t seem fair.’

  Cornwallis sighed. ‘It’s his choice, Rose. I hope you’re not thinking of trying to pair him up with someone, Frankie has introduced him to no end of women.’

  Rose snorted. ‘Yes, and we know the type he’s been introducing.’

  Cornwallis grinned wryly. ‘That’s true, however, you’ve already got Big George in your sights, trying to look for a lady bear; Jethro would be a tougher assignment than that.’

  ‘Maybe,’ conceded Rose, whimsically.

  ‘Rose,’ warned Cornwallis. ‘He won’t thank you for it.’ He paused a moment. ‘Who do you have in mind?’ he asked, feigning indifference.

  She giggled. ‘There’s one or two rattling around inside my head; I’ll think some more on it.’

  ‘It’s going to have to be someone normal. He’s a bit rough around the edges though, so no one who likes dainty little tea-parties, etc.’

  ‘You mean like your class of people: Ladies who lunch or ladies of leisure; ladies with a title or ladies who aspire to a title? No, Jethro has got his standards; he prefers the common type, like me.’

  ‘Exactly, but maybe someone not quite as common as you, I mean, we don’t want to go that low,’ he replied with a wink. ‘We want someone who actually apologises when they fart.’

  ‘Wha…? I don’t fart,’ she replied indignantly.

  ‘You do.’

  ‘No, I don’t.’

  ‘Rose, sometimes you put Frankie to shame.’

  ‘Bloody cheek. I’ll have you know I was brought up properly.’

  ‘That doesn’t mean you don’t fart, you just blame it on someone else. Anyway, I’ve seen you wafting.’

  ‘Wafting?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘One point to me, I think,’ said Cornwallis triumphantly.

  Rose pondered for a moment. ‘All right, I’ll give you the point, but I can get it back.’

  ‘Er, how?’

  ‘What’s the brush in the privy for?’

  ‘To give the bowl a clean.’

  ‘Exactly. At least you know what it’s for; now you just need instruction on how to use it. One point to me, I think. Now we’re even.’

  Cornwallis opened his mouth to deny the accusation and then realised that he had no grounds for denial. ‘I forget sometimes, okay? Used to have a long-drop until not long ago; didn’t need a brush with one of them, and anyway, that’s what the staf…’

  ‘No excuses, Jack. What’s more, you were about to say, “That’s what the staff are for”, weren’t you?’

  He hesitated.

  ‘I rest my case,’ said Rose, thinking that she had gained at least two points. ‘One point for not using the brush and one point for considering me as staff; you’re one point down and if you try to think of something else then—‘

  ‘Hang on,’ interrupted Cornwallis, relieved to find an excuse not to delve into some of his other habits. ‘Where’s Phimp going now?’

  Rose frowned. ‘It looks like he’s heading for the river.’

  ‘I wonder what he wants down there?’

  ‘Hopefully, we’ll find out, but those streets and alleys are like a maze, we might lose him.’

  ‘No, we won’t. Fluffy?’
/>   They could hear the cat sigh from behind them. ‘Wot?’

  ‘Run ahead, will you. Keep an eye on the man Phimp, just in case we can’t keep up.’

  ‘Wot, again? Keeps doing your bloody job, I do.’

  ‘Assisting, Fluffy, assisting.’

  ‘Assisting, my arse.’

  ‘I’ll assist your arse in a minute, with my boot.’

  ‘Jack, be nice to him. He’s helping.’

  Cornwallis sighed. ‘Fish,’ he said. ‘Two crates.’

  ‘Deal,’ replied Fluffy immediately and then quickly scampered off with a big satisfied grin on his face.

  Cornwallis shook his head slowly in resignation whilst, beside him, Rose grinned.

  ‘He can twist you around his little claw,’ she said. ‘Knows just which button to press.’

  ‘Yes, and he’s got you to help.’

  ‘Really, Jack, he’s just a cat.’

  ‘Is that what he is? I wouldn’t have known unless you told me.’

  Rose pouted and blew him a kiss.

  Ahead of them, Phimp had just turned into a narrow cobbled street, the wood-framed buildings dark with muck and damp from the river mists which seemed to hang around in a permanent shroud; MacGillicudy and Tiffany hesitated to follow. There were no carts and very few pedestrians so they would stand out like a sore thumb. Fluffy skittled past them and ran after Phimp with barely a glance at them.

  ‘I grant you,’ said MacGillicudy. ‘A cat does come in handy sometimes.’

  ‘What do we do, Commander?’ asked Tiffany.

  ‘Wait a bit; let him go a bit further.’ He turned his head as Rose and Cornwallis joined them. ‘Unless you’ve got a better idea, Jack?’

  ‘I think we should all go together now. Four of us: two men and two girls should look less suspicious than just one or two — a little group heading for the river for a walk on the docks.’

  ‘Good idea, you can buy the ice-creams.’

  ‘This weather, more like a hot toddy.’

  ‘That’ll do, but you’re buying.’

  ‘Let’s see what Phimp’s up to first.’