by Clive Mullis
‘Maud,’ said Cornwallis. ‘I say again, you are definitely not coming with us.’
‘Mr Cornwallis,’ said Maud. ‘And I say again, that I definitely am coming. You issued me an invitation which I accepted.’
‘Yes, but that was before; it may be dangerous now.’
‘I don’t care.’
‘But we do.’
‘Mr Cornwallis, it may well be, but I see it like this: most of the government and most of the guilds and lots of civic dignitaries will also be there. If anything happens to them then it will also happen to you. If that happens then I’ll be out of a job anyway, besides, I like a bit of excitement occasionally.’
‘Excitement? It’s hardly that.’
‘Jack,’ said Rose. ‘She can help your father.’
‘Whose side are you on?’
‘Maud’s, in this case.’
Cornwallis started to fling his arms into the air, but then remembered he had hold of a full mug of hot coffee so contented himself with a grunt of exasperation instead.
Rose turned to Maud and winked. Maud squared her shoulders and sat up straighter in her chair, a soft smile of satisfaction on her lips.
A scratching at the door indicated that something on the other side wished to gain entrance.
Frankie perked up and a big wide evil grin flashed onto his face. ‘I wonder who that can be?’
Dewdrop, closest to the door, got up and padded over, suppressing the joy he felt that for once, Frankie had something else to take the piss out of.
Fluffy walked in with a confident swagger, eyeballing the occupants as if they were the lesser beings. ‘Wot youse lot looking at? Would’ve been up earlier but some nameless bastard shuts the front door on me,’ he turned and looked pointedly at Dewdrop, who, with Felicity, were last in. ‘‘Ad to wait fer summon else to go in,’ he added before sitting down in the middle of the room licking his paw.
‘Oh, dear,’ said Frankie, faux concern. ‘What a shame.’
Fluffy stopped licking and cast an evil cat stare in his direction.
‘Where you been anyway? Met any nice pussycats lately?’
‘Wot youse on abouts? I’s bin ‘ere and there, doing a bit of this an’ that.’
‘Ah, that explains it then. The trouble is, you ought to be doing a little less of this and that in the future.’
Fluffy looked confused. ‘Wot youse mean?’
‘I mean your activities have come to the notice of the Bagman.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Yes.’
Fluffy’s features took on a definite smug look; he sort of preened and sat up a little more. ‘Know’s a good ‘un when ‘e sees it, then?’
‘Possibly, then again, possibly not.’
‘Uh?’
‘What I mean is the Bagman doesn’t like his workers interfered with. That cat in the Assembly worked for him: you know, the one that you, er…’
Fluffy’s eyes widened.
‘Yes, Tiddles is her name but she had to pretend to be a normal cat. The Bagman knows what you did and has promised that should there be kittens then your gonads will be decorating his office, you, however, will not be with them.
‘Oh, bugger!’ said Fluffy as he crawled up into a ball.
Cornwallis rummaged in his desk and produced a packet of biscuits. ‘Gingernuts, anyone?’ he asked innocently.
‘Sod off!’ moaned Fluffy into his fur.
Maud hadn’t been down in the dwarf tunnels before and to find how light and airy some of the chambers were surprised her. Cornwallis' explanation about the crystals in the walls reflecting the light back from the torches, making everything twice as bright, impressed her no end. She watched mesmerised at how organised the dwarfs were as they brought out food and drink to place on the tables and benches that lined the chamber, ready for the soiree a little bit later. There was bustle but very little hustle as each dwarf just got on with what they had to do.
Rose, Felicity and Tiffany each carried a little bag containing a dress and a pair of posh shoes. Following a little discussion last night, which Cornwallis lost, Rose and the two girls headed upstairs to the flat where Tiffany and Felicity picked out one dress each from Rose’s collection to wear for a short time until the soiree got properly underway, then they would decamp to Goodhalgan’s chamber to change back into their working clothes in case something occurred. The thought process being that nothing untoward would happen until all the nobs’ noses were deep into the trough of free food and drink. All the dwarfs who were not running The Pipe were guarding the tunnels and entrances; it was difficult to see how there could be an attack on The Pipe with all the protection. Everything appeared to be locked up solid, nothing could happen underground, nothing could get in or out without the dwarfs knowing.
‘Clear head,’ warned Cornwallis as he saw Frankie move towards the beer barrels.
‘Just need to check that they’re up to scratch.’
‘Frankie,’ exclaimed Rose. ‘It’s still early in the morning. You are in actual fact having beer for breakfast.’
‘Yeah, great, innit? Anyway, it’s just a drop, it’s not like I’m planning on a session.’
Rose’s head still shook as Goodhalgan ambled in. He had already dressed for the occasion and he’d had his beard specially plaited into two horn-like stalactites dangling from his chin. He wore a chain of office around his neck and his long grey hair hung loose down his back with just a thin golden crown resting on his ears, the emblem of the King of the Dwarfs.
‘There’s always one,’ observed Goodhalgan watching Frankie load up a tankard. ‘But he’s not the first to try a sample this morning.’
‘See,’ said Frankie triumphantly.
Cornwallis rolled his eyes and then turned to the king. ‘Everything ready, no last-minute mishaps?’
‘None whatsoever, and yes, it’s all ready.’
‘That’s good, only…’
‘Yes?’
Cornwallis pulled Goodhalgan to the side. ‘Only, yesterday I spoke to the Bagman, or to be precise, he spoke to me and I listened. Apparently, Brooksturner and his little gang of criminals are not just planning a disruption today; they’re planning destruction of the tunnels and everyone in them. How? I don’t know, but whatever is going to happen it is going to happen when the paying public start paying.’
‘Oh, that’s a bit inconsiderate of them.’
‘Inconsiderate?’
‘Yes, it means we’re going to have to keep all our guards in place and keep an eye on everyone.’
‘But they plan on destroying the tunnels.’
Goodhalgan chuckled. ‘They’re hardly able to do that, even using that explosive gonepowder. There are miles of tunnels down here and we have dwarfs at every entrance. Nothing can get in without us knowing.’
‘You seem very relaxed about it.’
‘Nothing to get concerned with, we’re safer down here than you are up there. I believe the modern expression the youngsters use is “chill out.” ’ Goodhalgan patted Cornwallis’ arm. ‘So I suggest you do just that. Everything is under control.’
Cornwallis still wasn’t quite so sure. The Bagman didn’t give out information lightly, so, therefore, anything he did say, they should take seriously. Despite Goodhalgan’s reassurances, he couldn’t be so dismissive of the threat. Something was going to happen; he felt it in his bones.
The three girls disappeared down a side-tunnel, heading for Goodhalgan’s private chamber, giving Cornwallis time to think things through yet again. He kept an eye on Frankie who seemed to be satisfied with the quality of the beer, seeing as he had hold of a second tankard.
A short while later the girls walked back into the chamber totally transformed. All eyes turned towards them and conversation limped to a halt. They were wearing elven dresses: gossamer thin, they kind of flowed around and over the three lithe bodies like a continuous stream of water, revealing nothing but suggesting everything. They moulded to their contours with jaw-dropping precisi
on. They were demure but alluring and judging by Cornwallis’, the earl’s, Frankie’s, MacGillicudy’s and Dewdrop’s reactions they were like nothing else on twearth. The intention of these dresses was to provoke and they did this in bucket-loads.
‘Do we pass muster?’ asked Rose sweetly, giving a slow pirouette.
Cornwallis recovered his decorum. ‘You’ll do,’ he said dismissively.
Rose raised an eyebrow and Cornwallis winked in return.
Tiffany wore posh frocks fairly regularly due to her being Lady Tiffany when not being Tiff the feeler, but this dress eclipsed anything she had worn before, and although Felicity once displayed herself in all her glory in her days of being a page-three woodcut model in some of the more downmarket tabloids, she had posed in the privacy of a studio, not in a chamber full of dignitaries and their wives. Both girls were unused to the sensation of wearing clothes but feeling as if they weren’t wearing clothes. They struggled at first with the elven fabric until they began to relax and then they wore them as they should be worn, like a second skin.
Cornwallis pulled Rose to the side. ‘Are you sure about this,’ he said quietly, cocking his head towards the girls. ‘You know what some of these politicians and guildsmen are like, they don’t need much of an excuse to go leching and leering.’
‘I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that, they’re feelers and can take care of themselves.’
‘Yes, but…’
Rose shook her head. ‘Really, Jack. Stop being protective; I notice that you left me out of that concern though.’
‘No, I didn’t.’
‘You did.’
‘All right, I did, but you’re used to it.’
‘And you think Tiffany and Felicity aren’t? Really, Jack, you should try dressing up as a girl sometime, it’ll open up your eyes to what we have to suffer.’
‘Um, maybe not. I haven’t got the legs.’
Rose raised her eyebrows and then nodded. ‘You have a point, horrible bloody things they are too.’
‘Cheeky bloody sod.’
Chapter 37
Trugral rushed into the chamber, eyes scanning until he glimpsed a golden reflection coming from Goodhalgan’s head. He hurried over and pulled up breathlessly. ‘They’re here,’ he announced, as the king turned around. ‘Outside, all queuing up.’
Goodhalgan looked at Cornwallis then grinned, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. ‘Time to see if all our hard work is going to pay off.’
They trooped upstairs to the foyer of the entrance hall of The Trand underground station where all the dignitaries were starting to gather. Each had to queue up at the ticket office and get a free ticket to ride. Once through the gate, the dwarfs ran around like blue-arsed flies supplying complimentary drinks to them. Like in most walks of life, the government and the guildsmen took full advantage of the free offerings available, just in case at some point, free turned to pay, in which case they would pour as much free booze down their throats as possible in the time allowed.
Goodhalgan greeted the Warden formally, who had a bit of difficulty returning the gesture as he had his ticket in one hand and a glass of something dark and potent in the other.
Cornwallis stood back with Rose on his arm and waited as the official welcome run its course, eyeing the crowd and looking for likely suspects.
‘There’s your father,’ said Rose, indicating with her head. ‘Who’s he talking to?’
‘I’m not sure; I think it’s one of the guild masters.’
‘Nice one or nasty one?’
‘Probably nasty, knowing my father.’ He turned his head and looked behind. ‘Maud, could you put Frankie down and go and join his nibs, keep an eye on him; make sure he doesn’t do anything he shouldn’t.’
‘Mr Cornwallis, I’m sure the earl knows what he’s doing,’ replied Maud.
‘He should do; we went over it enough times, but he might forget he’s a politician and start asking the wrong type of questions.’
‘Like what?’
‘Like “are you the bastard who’s planning to destroy The Pipe.” That sort of question.’
‘Sounds like a good question to me,’ remarked Frankie.
‘But not at the moment,’ countered Cornwallis. ‘We’ll ask that one later.’
As Maud wandered off to join the earl, Cornwallis turned to the rest of them. The time to mingle had arrived so they all began to move off into the crowd in their respective pairings. MacGillicudy with Tiffany, Dewdrop with Felicity, Frankie with Rose; they spread out, but immediately Cornwallis noticed that surreptitious listening could be a problem as the girls’ attire drew many admiring glances and in some cases, blatant ogling. He shrugged, still hoping that with the booze flowing, somebody may let slip a snippet of information.
When Goodhalgan had finished welcoming the Warden, he came over to join Cornwallis. ‘Good turnout,’ said the king. ‘Just a pity we’re not charging them.’
Cornwallis grinned wryly. ‘Let’s hope we get the chance later. Nothing from any of the guards?’
‘Not a thing, so far. I still think you’re worrying about nothing.’
‘We’ll see, but I hope you’re right.’
The pair then surveyed the crowd from their position on the edge of the platform. Everyone who was anyone was there along with their wives and partners, all dressed up in their finery. Competition appeared fierce, especially amongst the wives, but there were enough peacocks amongst the men to give the women a run for their money.
Cornwallis spotted Brooksturner along with Phimp and that short-arse with them must be the mysterious Clarence Fogg, if the guest list could be trusted: he looked exactly like the mean bastard described by Frankie; something in his manner indicated it, in the way he held himself, tense, like a tightly coiled spring, ready to uncoil at a moment’s notice. His eyes, fixed on the dwarfs, were devoid of everything but malice.
As the moment of boarding the spanking new transport system approached, a subdued excitement rippled through the crowd. At a signal from Goodhalgan, a bell rang and a few seconds later the first train came rattling out of the tunnel and drew to a halt alongside the platform.
A hush descended on the milling throng.
Cornwallis jumped up onto a couple of crates, cunningly disguised as a small podium and began to wave his arms. ‘My Lords, ladies and gentlemen,’ he bellowed. ‘Your attention, please.’
The eyes of everyone immediately turned towards him, just as a couple of dwarfs ran a red ribbon from one side of the platform to the other.
‘I will shortly ask the Warden to step up and cut the ribbon to mark the opening of The Pipe, the very first underground transport system in the whole world; and it has happened here, in our great city of Gornstock.’
A ripple of applause.
Cornwallis held up his hands again. ‘The benefits that The Pipe will bring to us are going to be many: quick and easy movement throughout the city; no queues on the roads and streets to worry about; it will be convenient and a station will be close to everyone; it will be cheap and reliable; it will be regular and dry. My Lords, ladies and gentlemen, I will now ask the Warden to step up and cut the ribbon and then we can all board the carriages for the very first underground train.’
The Warden stepped forward as another ripple of applause echoed through the station and Goodhalgan handed him a pair of scissors. The smiling head of government proceeded to snip at the ribbon which split into two, then a surge as the first group pressed forward, eager to board the carriages which sat gleaming in front of them.
Cornwallis stepped down from the podium just as Frankie strolled up.
‘That was a load of bollocks, wasn’t it; speechifying like that?’
‘Needs to be done, Frankie. Nothing gets opened without a load of vacuous bullshit to help it on its way. Besides, this lot are used to it; they spout it every day of their lives.’
‘Too bloody true, that,’ replied Frankie with feeling, looking at all the nobs gathered
. ‘Too bleeding true.’
Brooksturner and Phimp followed the Warden to board the first train out, behind them came Clarence Fogg, easing himself into the queue so that he could join them.
‘Frankie,’ said Cornwallis. ‘Keep an eye on your friend Clarence, see what he does. Join the Warden and Goodhalgan, but don’t say anything controversial.’
‘Me?’ replied Frankie, grinning. As if I would.’
As Frankie joined the queue, Rose managed to disentangle herself from the clutches of a particularly ardent admirer to come and stand with Cornwallis, linking her arm through his as the jilted lothario looked on with envy.
‘All seems to be going well,’ she said, pressing close.
‘So far,’ he replied, patting her hand. ‘Looks like you’re not doing so bad yourself.’
Rose rolled her eyes. ‘Really, Jack, this lot are so blatant; they think money is all they need.’
‘You mean you’re not tempted?’
‘Of course I am, but I’ll make do with you until something better comes along.’
Cornwallis pulled a face which made her smile. He then turned his attention back to Frankie as he entered the carriage and sat down opposite Phimp and Clarence, it had begun, and he just hoped it wasn’t the beginning of the end of The Pipe.
Another train trundled in hot on the wheels of the first, the dwarfs pumping and smiling, as they brought the contraption to a halt. The carriage doors flew open and the carriages filled up, the earl and Maud first in, their faces showing a subdued excitement, despite impending doom.
The third train had MacGillicudy and Tiffany on board, and as that departed, Cornwallis felt a shadow at his shoulder.
‘All very exciting, isn’t it, Mr Cornwallis?’
Cornwallis’ hackles rose.
‘And for you too, Miss Morant, I shouldn’t wonder.’