Crown Phoenix: Night Watchman Express

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Crown Phoenix: Night Watchman Express Page 15

by Alison DeLuca

Chapter 15

  What Miriam Found in the Study

  ana,” Miriam asked, putting down her pen, “do you think Simon is a fathead?”

  “I do not,” Mana responded instantly, “even if such a word were in my vocabulary.”

  Miriam picked up her pen again and sucked the cap thoughtfully. “No, I don’t either,” she said finally, “although I don’t understand it.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Well, how could two such complete idiots have a relatively nice son? I mean, you’d think he’d be the same kind of idiot as Uncle Virgil, only smaller and younger of course, but he’s not. A complete idiot, that is.”

  “Well, he has a nice friend,” Mana said, echoing Miriam’s thoughts. “You can tell a lot from someone’s friends. And maybe he’s learned a lot at his school. Look at you – you were acting like a savage when I first arrived, and now I can almost state that you’re civilized.”

  Miriam grinned at her. “All your wonderful influence, of course,” she said.

  “Of course.”

  Miriam returned to her journal and added, Perhaps it won’t be so bad living with these guardians of mine. I was furious when they came, and I still do not like Aunt Theodosia, but Uncle Virgil is just silly. And Simon is all right, really. And Mana is right – Neil is very nice. Still, I’m going to keep watching that partner, to see if he leaves any clues. Clues to what, she wasn’t certain, but she was certain that she’d find something.

  Simon and Neil were playing cards in the room that they shared, but Simon had grown bored, as usual, with the game. “You always win,” he complained.

  “Well, if you’d keep your mind on the suits and follow what has been played, you could win. Or at least do a bit better,” Neil added. “Another game? Maybe you can get back at me this time.”

  “Not bloody likely,” Simon said. He flopped back on the bed and gazed at the ceiling.

  “Want to go down to the cliff and see what’s going on with those circles?”

  “Nothing’s going on with them,” Simon said. “We go down those steps once or twice a day, and nothing ever happens. They were sticking out that one day, but ever since that day, they’ve been back in place.”

  “You’re right,” Neil said, pulling out a piece of paper that was covered with his neat handwriting in a long list. “Look, I’ve kept a log of the times we went down there, as well as what we observed. That one afternoon was the only time the circles were sticking out from the stone, or had distended, or whatever it is that they do. I feel, though, that we should keep observing them in a methodical fashion…”

  Simon lifted one leg in the air and let it fall heavily back on the mattress, huffing out a long, loud sigh as he did so. He sat up. “I tell you what,” he said, “how about if we go and see what Miriam’s doing?”

  “Oh!” Neil said, surprised. “Well, I suppose we could. She’s probably at lessons, though.”

  “That’s all right.” Simon bounded off the bed. “Her governess won’t mind two more young inquisitive minds.”

  Outside the schoolroom door, however, he lost a bit of his confidence. It was closed in a forbidding fashion, which made him hesitate.

  “Well?” Neil asked. “Do we stand here all day, or are you going in?”

  “Um, that is – it might be a good idea to knock first.” Simon raised his fist and rapped twice.

  Mana opened it and said, “Hello, Simon. Hello Neil.”

  She didn’t seem surprised to see them, Simon reflected. In fact, he couldn’t remember ever seeing the governess at a loss. Behind her, Miriam gaped at them with a large drop of ink from her pen about to blot her copybook.

  “Hello,” Simon said. “We – that is, Neil and myself – we weren’t doing anything at the moment, and so we thought we might come and visit. See what’s going on in the lessons, that is.”

  “We can leave if you prefer,” Neil added.

  Mana smiled and opened the door wider. “As it happens, we are almost finished for the day,” she said. “Now, why is it that you want to visit a schoolroom during your holidays?”

  “Well!” Simon said. “We weren’t doing anything in particular. Just sort of knocking about, you know.”

  “You’ve already said that. Blast.” Miriam’s pen dripped, and she covered her writing with a sheet of blotting paper.

  “Er, yes. Yes, I did. Well, nothing wrong with listening in to a lesson or two, is there? Could always use some more information up there in the old noggin!”

  Neil frowned. “The old noggin?” he repeated. Miriam giggled.

  “Oh, forget it,” Simon mumbled. “Come on, Neil, let’s go.”

  “Why not stay since you’re here?” Mana said. “Miriam is almost finished her journal, aren’t you, Miriam? And maybe after she has finished, we may all go for a walk.”

  “I’m writing about how you aren’t really so bad,” Miriam said.

  “Who, me?” Simon said.

  “Yes,” Miriam said, looking at him directly. “When I first met you, I thought you were just like your parents. But now, I think you might be all right. Normal, even.”

  “Oh, well is that so?” Simon said. “Thank you for your very kind opinion of me! And what is wrong with my parents?” He collapsed suddenly on a chair near the table. “No, don’t answer that. I know exactly what’s wrong with them. Mother’s a frightful snob, and Father can’t keep her in line. He lets her get away with the most embarrassing scenes, because he’s afraid of her, I think. I can hardly believe they let me have Neil here to stay.”

  “They’re quite awful,” Miriam stated. “I thought my father was bad, but really he was just nonexistent, until he died, that is. But your parents take the prize for awfulness.”

  “Stop it at once or write lines,” Mana said with great firmness. “There is absolutely no need to discuss someone else’s parents. Why the problem with bringing Neil here to stay, Simon? You’re a fellow student at Simon’s school, aren’t you, Neil?”

  “Just because I won a scholarship,” Neil said. “Otherwise, I’d be working with my father and mother at the docks.”

  “That’s good,” Miriam said. “I’ve never won anything. I hope I can publish a story one day, though.”

  “Why not show them that story you’re writing,” Mana said. “You know, the story about the dragonfly warrior and the wasp’s chessboard.”

  Miriam’s mouth dropped open. “Don’t!” she protested, but Simon and Neil were now interested.

  “You write stories?” Neil said. “That’s clever. I like to read, but anything I write is utterly foul. What’s this one about?”

  “What happened at the end of that one you were writing before?” Simon demanded, interrupting. “You know, with the frozen tower?”

  Miriam couldn’t help flushing with pleasure that he’d remembered. “Oh, just what you suggested,” she said off-handedly. “The princess had to save the kingdom from being frozen by the uncle by making friends with the greyhound.”

  “Hold on just a second,” Neil said. “What happened?”

  “Oh, there was a princess, in a tower, which was frozen, being held by her uncle –”

   “Anyone for a chocolate biscuit?” Mana produced a tin.

  “Gosh, thanks,” Simon said. “Maybe we could help you find botanical specimens to draw again today when we go out, if it stops raining. How about it, Neil?”

  “Lead on,” Neil answered with enthusiasm. “When it comes to specimens, I’m the king.”

  “You’re a specimen all right,” Simon shot back.

  That night at dinner, Theodosia insisted that Miriam join them. The girl was dressed in a new black dress, despite her protests. Mana, of course, was relegated to the schoolroom with a tray, but the governess, as usual, made no complaint. Virgil joined them in the dining room, just as they were sitting down.

  Furnace came in with the starter, and Theodosia turned to Simon. “Simon, we haven’t had a chance to hear much about your school. You must tell me abo
ut your achievements last term,” she said.

  “Wowing them all with your abilities, eh Simon?” Virgil chuckled. Theodosia froze him with a glance, and he quickly subsided.

  “Much as usual, Mother,” Simon said uncomfortably.

  “I can hardly believe that,” Theodosia said. She paused as Neil was offered a bowl of hot water, which he obviously didn’t know how to handle.

  “Dip your hands in it,” Simon murmured. Neil quickly gave a perfunctory dunk, and his hands were wiped for him with a linen towel.

  “Ah,” Theodosia continued, her eyebrows rose. “So, Mr. Gillsworth, where is your family from?”

  “They live on the coast,” Neil answered, stuttering.

  “In shipping, are they?” Virgil asked jovially, poking his nose over his wineglass.

  “Fishing,” Neil responded. A heavy silence fell, and he looked at his plate, feeling his wrists grow three inches, and his feet increase by five sizes.

  “I’d like to learn how to fish,” Miriam said determinedly.

  “Well, really! How about spear-fishing?” Theodosia said with a mirthless trill of laughter. “Maybe Miss Postulalaland can show you.”

  Simon looked from his mother to Miriam and Neil. “I’d like to learn how to fish as well,” he said, popping a lump of pastry into his mouth.

  Another icy silence descended, and Simon began to eat furiously. Maybe, if he chewed as fast as he decently could, the dinner would be over faster.

  That was the last formal dinner for a while.

  “What do you think about Mr. Cantwell?” Simon asked the next day. They were seated in the schoolroom again.  The boys had beetled in as soon as Miriam’s lessons were over.

  “What do you mean?” Neil asked. After surviving the fiasco of the formal dinner, he had relaxed in Mana’s company and was actually enjoying himself.

  “He talks a lot but he doesn’t say anything,” Miriam said. “Haven’t you noticed?”

  “Always a bad sign,” Simon said. “I think Mother thinks he’s a bit of a ripping fellow.”

  “She certainly does.” Miriam began to snort.

  “Don’t laugh at Simon’s mother, please,” Mana said, reeling off another long piece of cotton and threading her needle. She sat in a low chair by the fire, listening to the conversation and mending a frill on Miriam’s new black dress.

  “I laugh at her all the time,” Simon burst out. “She’s such a fearful snob. My father isn’t too bad, but he just puts up with it, so she thinks she can do what she wants, which is worse. And I don’t think she ever wears a dress twice; good thing, actually, because each is more fearsome than the last. Where does she get all the money from? I bet it’s coming from your father’s income, Miriam.”

  He stopped, breathing heavily, and they all stared at him. “Well, it’s true,” he added defiantly. “And something’s up. Father mentioned something about a project to me last night, and mother hushed him until she was blue in the face. And now this Cantwell fellow is coming back to stay, with his foul sister.”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way about your parents,” Mana said.

  “Above all, I can’t stand the way she treats Neil. Or you,” Simon added as an afterthought, looking at Miriam.

  Surprised, she responded, “It’s not so bad.”

  “Yes it is,” Simon says. “Do you have to put up with her needling you like that all the time?”

  “All the time,” Miriam admitted.

  “There, see?” Simon continued. “She harps on you and Neil constantly. I’m fed up with it.”

  “At least you don’t have to be her One Great Hope,” Neil said. “My own parents can’t wait for me to leave school, get a job and support my entire family.”

  Mana put her sewing down and regarded them over the lenses of her glasses. “My response should be something fitting to a governess, such as ‘At least you have parents’. But I’ll refrain from such an awful comment.”

  “What are your parents like?” Neil asked.

  “Strong,” Mana said. “They were very strong people. My mother could run for longer distances than anyone on the island, and my father could lift an entire bolemor trunk in his arms.”

  Miriam stared at her; for some reason, she had never considered Mana having parents. But of course, her governess had told her that she was an orphan as well, the first night they met.

  “They were strong?” Neil asked.

  “Killed in a revolution,” Mana said matter-of-factly. “On Lampala.”

  “There was a revolution on the island?” Simon asked, enthralled.

  “We weren’t sure who our next ruler would be,” Mana said. “Eventually one man, Atol, claimed the throne.”

  “Did you know him?” Neil asked.

  “Yes, I knew him,” Mana said. She picked up her sewing and didn’t say anything else.

  “Let’s go out, Neil,” Simon said, getting up. “I’ll show you the path to the sea.”

  With a glance at Miriam, Neil stood, mumbled goodbye, and they left the room. Miriam watched them leave and felt a bit cross. Mana seemed to have gone all silent, so she was left to her own devices. Perhaps she should work on her story? No – perhaps she could do a bit of sleuthing on her own, with the boys out of the way and the Marchpanes off in the city! She was certain that Aunt Theodosia had gone for a dress fitting or something, and of course Virgil was working at the company, doing whatever he did.

  “I’m going to get a book from the library,” Miriam told Mana casually. Mana looked at her over her lenses, but she merely nodded and went back to her sewing.

  Miriam padded off, starting to feel like a detective. When Nelly appeared out of one of the bedrooms, carrying a load of linens, Miriam, backed into a doorway and hid, holding her breath. he slipped down the stairs as quietly as she could.

  The door to the library was closed, but the handle turned at once. Miriam crossed over to the huge desk that Uncle Virgil had been ransacking the first day she met him, and where he now kept his important papers. One document was thrust under one corner of the blotter, but as it looked like a letter, Miriam ignored it. She wanted to find some hidden journals, rolled parchments, or perhaps a missing will or two.

  She tried the side drawers of the desk, but only the top one opened when she pulled it. It was full of blank writing paper, gummed labels, lumps of sealing wax and pencils. The other drawers beneath it were all locked.

  Dash it all, Miriam thought. I wonder if there’s a key. She hunted around on the desk and in the open drawer, but could find nothing. Disappointed, she was about to leave and try looking somewhere else when she glanced back at the letter on the desk, and saw Simon’s name as well as her own.

  Curiously she picked up the sheet of paper and read. The beginning was incomprehensible; it seemed to be addressed to someone called Fortescue, thanking him for some work done on Virgil’s behalf.

  She skipped down to the last sentence and read, “…when Simon comes of age and marries Miriam Pearson, we need to make sure of several things. First, there will be the trusts, which have proven simple enough until now but which may be more complicated later. Second, we’ll have to discuss the means of terminating…” The letter ended there, as if the writer had been interrupted.

  The door to the library opened suddenly, and Simon himself came in. Miriam looked up, shocked and whisked the letter behind her. She backed away, her cheeks flaming.

  “Hey, it’s you! What are you doing?” Simon asked, coming into the room. “Did you find something?”

  After reading that sentence in the letter, Miriam suddenly saw him as a different person. He wasn’t just the son of her guardians, someone who was pleasant enough and who had listened when she talked about her stories.

  He was more than that. He was intended for her as a future husband.

  “It’s nothing at all.” She sidled away from him and hid the letter behind her back..

  Naturally, this made Simon even more curious. “Oh, come on.” He p
ushed past the heavy desk and large chair to where she stood. “What have you got there? I won’t tell on you; I just want to see what it is.” Miriam twisted away from him, but Simon managed to get an arm around her and snatch the paper away.

  “Ha ha!” He released her and held it above his head. “Success!” He put a hand out and grabbed her arm.” No, hold on, don’t run off now; I just want to see…”

  His voice died out as he stared at the letter. His lips moved as he reread it. For an instant, he was frozen in disbelief. He looked up at her with his mouth hanging open. “What on earth?”

  “Well, don’t think that I had anything to do with it!” Miriam cried out.

  “Yes, but-”

  At that moment, they heard Theodosia’s voice at the front door, demanding that a servant come to take her parcels. Simon held the paper out to Miriam, and she thrust it back it him as if it were a live snake. He looked around the study and pushed it under the corner of the blotter. They retreated from the desk, escaped from the room and, as if with mute accord, ran for the back door as quickly as they could. They managed to escape without anyone seeing them.

  Outside, Simon took a deep breath and blew it out. He laughed a bit, feeling a certain exultation at avoiding his mother.

  Miriam, leaning against the house and feeling her own heart thud in her chest, laughed as well. The next moment she opened her eyes and realized where she was. She was standing there with Simon, alone.

  “Um, just realized. I must be off. ’Bye,” she announced hastily.

  Simon frowned and reached out a hand to catch her arm again, but she slipped away and disappeared back into the house. He dropped his hand and started after her.

  Neil came up behind him and grabbed his collar. “Hey, you abandoned me! Where’ve you been?” he demanded. “Did you find the string we needed?”

  “What?” Simon turned to him and blinked.

  “What’s the matter with you? You look like you just saw Old Harry himself. Where’s that string, idiot?”

  Simon appeared to recall where he was. “String, right. String.” He squared his shoulders and marched away. Neil was left behind, scratching his head.

 

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