Goodly and Grave in a Case of Bad Magic

by Justine Windsor

  Lord Grave waved his hand dismissively. “As far as the Penny and the rest of the non-magical world is concerned, I do. But in truth it belongs to the whole of the magical community. It’s where we look after magical children who have no one else to care for them. But all that’s by the by. The point here is those children who escaped. About a dozen of ’em, have never been found. Or perhaps not found until now.”

  Lord Grave pointed at the drawings of the Hard Times Hall escapees. “Percy, this boy with curly hair, he has a bluebird tattoo on his neck, do you see? Is it the same boy?”

  Lord Percy had to be prodded awake by Beguildy Beguildy. He stared intently at the drawings that accompanied the article, as though he was finding it difficult to focus. “Yes. He looked a little older than he is here, but yes, that’s him.”

  “Sibyl? Do you recognise the boy too? Or these other children?”

  “As I said, I didn’t manage more than a glimpse of any of them. I was too concerned about dear Percy.”

  Lady Sibyl wasn’t the only one to be concerned about dear Lord Percy. The rest of MAAM looked at him in alarm as he began swaying gently in his seat, as though being blown by an invisible wind, his eyes were closing again.

  “Oh dear. I must admit I’m not feeling very well,” he muttered.

  “I think we’d better get you into a nice warm bed,” Lord Grave said. “Vonk, is Lord Percy’s room ready?”

  Vonk stepped forward from the corner where he had been quietly standing. He often stayed on hand when there was a MAAM meeting going on, in case anything was needed. “Yes, I believe so.”

  “I would like a brief lie-down, I must admit,” Lord Percy said. He tried to stand up, but it was clear that he wasn’t going to be able to make it out of the room and up the stairs to bed under his own steam. Vonk hurried off to fetch Mrs Crawley, who soon bore Lord Percy away upstairs to bed in her strong and beefy arms.

  “Lucy, you need to have a good look at these drawings too,” Lord Grave said when everyone had settled down again and the meeting had resumed. “Could any of them be the boy who attacked you and Violet?”

  “You were attacked too? Oh, Lucy, how horrid for you!” Prudence Beguildy exclaimed.

  “Who’s Violet?” Beguildy asked.

  “Isn’t that the little scullery maid? The one with the green frog?” Prudence Beguildy asked. “Such a sweet girl! I hope she wasn’t hurt?”

  “She’s got a nasty cut on her hand,” Lucy replied, and then told the rest of MAAM about the attack and the bloody penny.

  “The poor little thing!” Prudence said when Lucy had finished her story.

  “Could it have been one of these orphans, Lucy?” Lord Grave asked.

  Lucy peered at the drawings. “Maybe the boy with curly hair. I didn’t notice he had a tattoo, but his face and neck were dirty, so maybe it was hidden?”

  Lord Grave nodded. “Yes, that’s a possibility.”

  “But why would a magician, even a child magician, bother attacking a non-magical scullery maid?” Beguildy suddenly piped up. “Why would they even notice such a person?”

  Lucy bristled at Beguildy’s snobbish tone. He obviously thought the only thing lower than a servant was a non-magical servant. She opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it, remembering their truce. She’d faithfully promised Lord Grave that she would try her hardest not to break it.

  “It’s a good question, Beguildy, if somewhat harshly put.” Lord Grave narrowed his eyes, thinking deeply. “However, we think it might have been an error on the attacker’s part, and he was actually targeting Lucy.”

  “Same question applies,” Beguildy said, examining his nails.

  “Stop it, B,” Prudence said.

  “Quite,” Lady Sibyl said. “Lucy is one of us now.”

  “I think it’s possible that the two incidents could be linked,” Lord Grave mused. “Whether Hard Times Hall really has any bearing on the case … Well, my view is that we should keep an open mind about that for now.”

  When the meeting was over, Lucy helped Vonk carry the tea things back to the kitchen. The room was now so full of steam that it was barely possible to see. Mrs Crawley’s face suddenly loomed out of the haze, her beard sparkling with tiny droplets from the damp air. “Oh no, not MORE washing-up!”

  “Where’s Becky?” Vonk asked, carefully making his way to the only-just-visible table to deposit the tea tray.

  “Oh, she’s fussing about cleaning her uniform for this evening. I think she might have spilled a chamber pot down herself. She’s in a very strange mood. Seems rather upset about Violet. Keeps asking me if we’ve had any more news about her.”

  “I’m sure you can handle her, Mrs C. Right then. I need to finish polishing the silver ready for tonight,” Vonk said. Seizing the opportunity to make a break for some steam-free air, he scuttled into his butler’s pantry and closed the door.

  “That’s a great help, I must say!” Mrs Crawley snapped.

  “I’ll do the dishes,” Lucy offered.

  “Oh, thank you! I don’t mean to be so grumpy – it’s just all too much for me at the moment.” Mrs Crawley took out a very large white handkerchief embroidered with purple flowers and wiped her face with it.

  Lucy went through to the scullery, where the steamy haze was lighter. Mrs Crawley brought in the huge black kettle from the range and filled the sink with hot water. She cast a cautious look over her shoulder and then said, “I have to say, I sometimes question his Lordship’s decision to employ non-magical servants.”

  “What do you mean?” Lucy added soap flakes to the water and began swishing them around.

  “Of course I’m very fond of Violet and, er, Becky. But life would be so much easier if I could use a little more of my magic day-to-day. It would cut down on the drudgery. But of course I can’t. The girls are young yet, so we can’t be sure they wouldn’t see. That’s why his Lordship decided neither of them should be here for the actual ball.”

  “I’ve always wondered why Lord Grave hired Becky and Violet in the first place.” Lucy asked, beginning to carefully wash up the cups and saucers.

  “Well, you see, it’s conventional for a big house to hire at least some of its staff from the local district. And you know Lord Grave is a very traditional man in many ways. But I do so wish he could break free of his traditions sometimes!”

  The Grave Hall dining room was very impressive, with its sparkling chandelier and the dozens of candles that hung on the wood-panelled walls. Lucy had helped serve dinner to MAAM once before, during her first few days at the Hall. That had only been a couple of months ago, but it seemed much longer than that to Lucy, as she’d had so many adventures since then. The meal that time had involved a bewitched chicken that had more body parts than normal, which had mystified Lucy no end. But tonight there was no magical food. Mrs Crawley had thought it too risky because of Becky.

  “Right, girls,” whispered Vonk. Along with Lucy and Becky, he was at the mahogany sideboard where all the food for his Lordship’s guests was laid out, including an array of desserts. “Lucy, you carry the lamb; Becky, you serve it up. Make sure you do the ladies first.”

  Vonk handed Lucy a large silver platter on which he had carefully arranged the slices of lamb he’d carved, and then drizzled them with mint sauce. Becky was given a pair of ornate silver tongs.

  Lucy carefully carried the platter of lamb to the table. “Lamb, Lady Sibyl?”

  Lady Sibyl shook her head. “Not for me. I’m not very hungry.”

  “Oh, come now, Sibyl,” Lord Grave boomed. “You need to eat!”

  Lady Sibyl smiled weakly. “Very well. Just a small slice.”

  Lucy and Becky worked their way round the table with the lamb. Lady Sibyl’s appetite might have been subdued by the day’s events, but Beguildy Beguildy’s was completely untroubled.

  “Another slice. Yes, another slice. Just one more,” he kept saying until the platter had to go back to the sideboard, where Vonk refilled it with fre
shly carved slices and more mint sauce.

  “Quickly now, girls.” Vonk whispered. “Serve Lord Grave before everything gets cold.”

  Lucy carried the platter over to the head of the table where Lord Grave was sitting. For some reason, Becky had left her tongs on the sideboard and was instead using Vonk’s carving knife to manoeuvre meat on to Lord Grave’s plate. She was being very clumsy about it and suddenly lost her grip on the knife, dropping it blade down towards Lord Grave’s hand. As he was busy trying to cheer up Lady Sibyl, he didn’t realise what was happening.

  “Look out!” Lucy warned, accidentally tilting the platter. Lamb and mint sauce spilled over Lord Grave’s shoulder and onto the floor.

  “What on earth!” Lord Grave leaped from his seat. The blade of the knife grazed the side of his little finger before twanging into the table.

  “Oh, sir! Your hand! It’s bleeding!” Becky whipped a handkerchief from her apron pocket and attempted to wipe the tiny spots of blood from the small scratch the knife had caused.

  “Never mind my hand – this is my best dinner jacket!” Lord Grave snatched the handkerchief from Becky and used it to dab at the grease and mint sauce that was soaking into his shoulder. Bathsheba, who had been lying under the table, added to the confusion by careering around, snatching up pieces of fallen lamb and wolfing them down.

  By now, Vonk had rushed over to Lord Grave. “I’m so sorry, your Lordship. Thank goodness Lucy acted so swiftly! Becky, what in heaven’s name were you doing using the carving knife in that way? What happened to the tongs?”

  “You should have been supervising the girl more closely, Vonk! Oh, Lucy, please stop Bathsheba guzzling! Mint sauce doesn’t agree with her stomach at all!”

  Lucy pulled at Bathsheba’s jewelled collar in an attempt to drag her away from the meat. The panther turned and roared ferociously, obviously forgetting that she and Lucy were supposedly on good terms. Food before friendship was clearly her philosophy. As Lucy didn’t fancy sacrificing a limb to save Bathsheba from a tummy upset, she hastily backed away. Behind her, Beguildy was making his way to the sideboard for seconds, having calmly finished his pile of lamb despite the upheaval going on. Lucy banged into him and he lost his footing before landing face first in one of Mrs Crawley’s immensely tall and wobbly trifles.

  It took a good while for order to be restored and by that time all the food had gone cold. Lord Grave decided to abandon dinner and instead ordered sandwiches to be served in the drawing room. Lucy and the other servants worked flat out to clear up the mess in the dining room as well as make everyone comfortable in the drawing room. The MAAM members soon settled down, except for Beguildy Beguildy, who was developing a nasty black eye from hitting his cheek against the edge of the cut-glass trifle bowl and was determined to make the most of his injuries.

  “I could have lost an eye! That butler of yours should be sacked for allowing dim housemaids to run riot with knives!” Lucy heard him raging when she served coffee to the guests. She felt like poking him in the other eye with the sugar tongs.

  When Lucy finally escaped back down to the kitchen, she found that Becky had gone to bed early, apparently completely distraught at almost stabbing Lord Grave’s hand. Lucy suspected she’d really nabbed the chance to get out of doing the washing up. As for Vonk, he was terribly upset at the way Lord Grave had blamed him for the incident and was refusing to be comforted even by Mrs Crawley’s offer of a calming glass of her home-made spinach brandy.

  When Lucy yawned her way down to the kitchen the next morning, she was surprised to find Violet there, already clearing away the breakfast things. Lucy managed to swipe a couple of pieces of toast before everything was put away.

  “I didn’t think you’d be here today! Are you all right?” She gave Violet a quick hug. The difference in the little scullery maid was astounding. Yesterday she’d looked grim, grey-faced and barely awake. Today her eyes sparkled and her cheeks were rosy.

  “Oh yes, I’m fine now!” Violet replied, squirming out of Lucy’s arms.

  “Convenient, that. Now that all the smelly cleaning jobs have been done,” snapped Becky, who was sitting at the table with Mrs Crawley, drinking a cup of tea. Becky looked as unwell as Violet had yesterday; there were shadows under her eyes and her blonde hair was shoved messily under her cap. This was strange as Becky was usually very particular about her hair. Lucy wasn’t surprised to see her looking ill, though. She’d heard her tossing and turning in the night and even talking in her sleep.

  “Oh, shut up!” Violet retorted. She picked up a rind of bacon from one of the plates she was clearing and threw it at Becky. The bacon bounced off Becky’s cap then landed on the floor. Smell suddenly appeared from nowhere and gulped the bacon rind down before anyone could stop him.

  “Violet, really!” Mrs Crawley said. “What’s got into you?”

  “There’s a grease stain on my cap! You little …” Becky sprang out of her chair and grabbed Violet by the hair. Violet retaliated by grasping Becky’s ear and twisting it. They fell against the table, upsetting the pile of plates, which crashed to the stone floor and smashed into pieces. Smell began snuffling around the shards, no doubt in search of a tasty morsel or two, but he soon had to scoot out of the way to avoid being trodden on by the two warring maids.

  “Stop this at once!” bellowed Mrs Crawley. “Vonk! Help!”

  Vonk darted out of the butler’s pantry and stood for a few seconds, aghast at the scene before him. Then he made a beeline for Becky, grabbing her by the collar, while Mrs Crawley did the same with Violet. Once they had been separated, the two girls stood glaring at each other.

  Smell jumped up on to the kitchen table. “Vi looks proper aggrieved,” he said to Lucy, speaking very quietly so no one else could hear. He was right. Violet was standing in a very un-Violet like way, feet apart, hands balled up into fists.

  “This isn’t like you, Violet!” Vonk was saying.

  “Too right it isn’t,” Becky spat. “She’s usually so namby pamby and weedy. Namby pamby and weedy.”

  Violet started and her eyes widened as though she’d just remembered something very important. She relaxed her fists. “I-I’m sorry, Becky. I shouldn’t have thrown that bacon at you. I don’t know what came over me.”

  Mrs Crawley put her hands on her hips and scowled. “That’s more like it. Becky?”

  “Are you going to make her buy me a new cap?” Becky demanded.

  “Becky!” Mrs Crawley said in a warning manner.

  “Oh, all right, I’m sorry too,” Becky said, rushing the words out.

  “Shake hands,” Vonk ordered, looking every bit as stern as Mrs Crawley did. The two maids almost did as they were told. They very briefly touched palms, not looking at each other as they did so.

  “Well, that’s a start, I suppose,” Mrs Crawley said with a sigh. “Now we really must get on. We need to get as much done as possible before Diamond O’Brien and the rest of the circus folk arrive. Lucy, I want you to clean the windows at the front of the house. They’re filthy.”

  “Good idea, Mrs C. We don’t want his Lordship’s visitors thinking we neglect the Hall,” Vonk said. “You get the cleaning utensils, Lucy, and I’ll … um … get the ladders sent round.”

  As Vonk left the kitchen he winked at Mrs Crawley, who chuckled a little, although Lucy wasn’t sure why. Then the housekeeper-cum-cook rummaged around in the cupboard where all the cleaning things were kept. She handed Lucy a bottle of vinegar mixed with water, and some scrunched-up newspaper. Then she turned to Violet and Becky.

  “I want you two to make a start on cleaning the bedrooms in the east wing. I’ll be along to check up on you, mind. Any sort of fracas and you’ll both be answering to his Lordship. Use the servants’ staircase, I don’t want you bumping into any of the guests.”

  Neither Becky nor Violet replied, but they grabbed some cleaning things and headed towards the door at the side of the kitchen, which led to the servants’ staircase.

 
Lucy was about to go outside and make a start on the windows when she noticed Caruthers lying abandoned under the kitchen table with a scrap of fried egg stuck to his head. He must have fallen out of Violet’s apron pocket when she and Becky were squaring up to each other.

  “Violet! You forgot Caruthers,” she called. Violet turned back and gazed at the woolly amphibian.

  “Who? Oh yes. Thank you so much, Lucy. Poor old thing.” Violet took the knitted frog from Lucy and stuffed him into her apron pocket. She didn’t even bother to clean the egg off first.

  Lucy went round to the front of the house. She waited for a little while, but there was no sign of Vonk or the ladders. She decided to get on with cleaning the lower windows. Using the crumpled newspaper she applied the solution Mrs Crawley had given her to the window next to the front door. The strong smell of vinegar made her eyes water. Then she began polishing the window. Once she’d finished, she stepped back and was admiring her handiwork when she felt a strange prickle on the back of her neck, as though she was being watched. She turned round and saw that someone was indeed gazing intently at her. Someone with very long legs and an even longer neck. It was a giraffe from the wildlife park. Lucy bristled a little. She was certain the giraffe was the same one she’d had a confrontation with a few weeks ago.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  Of course the giraffe didn’t reply. It didn’t seem to be planning to cause Lucy grief, however. In fact, it seemed to wink at her, batting its long eyelashes. Then it bent its neck, until its chin was almost on the ground. Lucy thought perhaps it had spotted some vegetation to nibble on, but the giraffe patiently stayed in position, its legs slightly splayed out in a rather comical fashion. Something was fluttering from one of its horns. It looked very much like a cleaning rag.

  Lucy laughed with delight. The giraffe was the ladder Vonk had promised to send round! She gingerly climbed on to the creature’s neck and held on to its horns as it lifted its head, carrying Lucy to the level of the first floor so that she could easily clean the windows. The giraffe seemed keen to help out by licking the glass with its blue tongue. To her great amusement, Lucy found that she could steer the giraffe using its horns. If she tugged gently on the left horn, the giraffe moved left, and vice versa.