Crown Phoenix: Night Watchman Express

by Alison DeLuca

Chapter 5

  A Difficult Decision

  everal days later, Miriam still had not emerged from her room. At last, prompted by Virgil, Mrs. Marchpane ordered the kitchen to serve her bread and water, but the trays came back down to the kitchen untouched. Mrs. Williams sighed and shook her head as she crumbled the uneaten bread and threw it out for the birds. She secretly planned small tasty meals she could send up in Furnace’s pockets when the Marchpanes weren’t looking.

  However, Mrs. Marchpane seemed to be everywhere in the house. She continued to turn out the contents of drawers, going through musty closets and opening doors. The old house had many hiding places, nooks, hallways, and cloakrooms, and the new mistress searched them all.

  “But what is it she wants to find?” George said later, as they sat in the kitchen.

  “Not any of our business,” Furnace said shortly. “You’ll keep doing your duty, and I’ll do mine.”

  George and Mrs. Williams looked at each other. It was becoming apparent that Mr. Furnace’s temper was getting shorter as the days went on, which meant that Miss Miriam wasn’t doing well.

  Several times, Mrs. Marchpane sent her husband up to see the girl, but Miriam sent up such an outcry that Mr. Marchpane hurriedly withdrew. The last time it occurred, the girl hurled a volley of objects at him as soon as he poked his face around the door. One particularly heavy croquet ball connected painfully with his shin, and he yelped and left, slamming the door shut behind him. “Theodosia!” He limped down the stairs. “Theodosia, I simply must have words with you!”

  Holding a vase, his wife appeared in the hall below, and looked up at him in astonishment. “What on earth do you want, Virgil? Why must you screech my name like that?”

  “Theodosia, I always say you know best, but this must cease.” At that he became aware of the servants counting the books in the library, just visible from where he stood. While they pointedly looked away from him, their backs seemed very interested in what he had to say.

  “Come to the sitting room, my dear,” he continued in a more quiet tone.

  Inside the room, Theodosia closed the door and stood with her back flat against it. Two white dents appeared on either side of her nostrils. “What on earth is going on, Virgil?” she demanded.

  Virgil raised one finger. “My dear, I have agreed to your schemes in all ways regarding the girl. But I am at a very difficult stage of the proposed project, and I cannot work with all this – this hooliganism going on.”

  Theodosia walked forward and sat in a straight-backed chair with a hard cane seat and a harp painted on its back. “Continue, Virgil,” she said.

  He spluttered, “The child – threw – things at me! And she has wounded me, I fear! In the leg, Theodosia!” Breathing heavily, he leaned on one arm of the sofa. “I could almost believe that she collected the objects before hand and planned the whole attack.”

  Theodosia narrowed her eyes. “Such a little hellion. She will stay on bread and water for another week,” she added.

  “My dear!” Virgil spread out his hands in frustration. “She has been on bread and water for almost a week already!”

  “Well, Virgil,” Theodosia said in a cold tone, “what exactly is it that you suggest? I assume you must have some plan.”

  “As a matter of fact I do. Hear me out.” He arose, came forward, and got down on one knee beside her. “We cannot allow one little girl to ruin what we have planned. My dear,” he paused and swallowed. “We must hire a governess to take care of her.”

  “A governess?” Theodosia snapped her head around and looked at him. “Are you out of your wits? Do you know how expensive a governess would be? First, wages, as well as uniforms, and rooms, and also meals – no, I cannot condone such a foolish scheme.”

  “Theodosia, do you know how expensive it will be if we cannot go through with the project?” He looked up at her.

  She stared straight in front of her for a moment and sucked in her breath. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. I cannot believe that one child should cause so much difficulty in a large household.”

  “My dear, the servants are beginning to talk. Word could get out. Secrecy is the key at this juncture, eh?”

  She clicked her tongue. “Very well. We’ll advertise for a governess. But,” she added, raising one finger, “it will be someone strict. No namby-pamby idiot taking that child’s side and spoiling her or giving her ideas above her station, do you hear me?”

  “Of course, my dear.” He stood up and dusted off the knee of his trousers. “I’ll send a letter to the newspapers directly.”

  Miriam sat on the bed and clasped her knees. The various things she had collected to throw at her guardians, should they reappear in her doorway, were still strewn around her room, as well as clothes, books, plates, and glassware.

  Still, she thought, it had been a good blow she had given ‘Uncle Virgil’. She’d be flayed alive before she called him uncle, or that Woman aunt. They were poking around her house again, especially the Woman; she could hear the drawers being opened, rooms being unlocked, cupboards being emptied.

  She looked out of the window. The sun beat down on the slates of the eaves. As she watched, the two boys who were also staying in the house walked past. They were on the path that headed to the sea. Even though she hadn’t met them yet, Miriam could just imagine what they were like. They were stuck-up, like as not, and they probably talked about rubbish like polo and cricket.

  There was a light tap at the door, and Furnace entered with a tray. “Your dinner, Miss Miriam,” he said. He put the tray of bread and water on the table, and took a pear and a hunk of cheese wrapped in a large hankie from his pocket. Moving the hard piece of bread aside, he put the fruit on the plate.

  “Are those people still messing about with my house?” Miriam ignored the food.

  Furnace looked around the room and began to pick up some of the objects from the floor. “Miss Miriam,” he said, “it is becoming very untidy in here. I’m going to open a window to let in some fresh air.” Indeed, the bedroom smelled of unwashed clothes, stale food, and of Miriam herself. The chamber pot also needed to be emptied. Using the handkerchief that had held the pear, he picked up the chamber pot and headed for the door.

  Miriam sighed heavily. After a moment, she picked up the pear and bit into it.