My mind began to roam again and the memory of the chimney sweep suddenly entered my head. I was most definitely not happy at all to have my future heir and daughter fraternizing with a common sweep! This rolled around my head for a few minutes and I began to regret not making my views clearer the previous day, though I felt that in fact I had; the recollection was hazy.
It was at that precise moment that I settled upon a plan! The nanny had led the children out presumably to the park but moments before. If I were to leave now I would surely catch them up! Heaven only knows Paul and Susan were much given to dawdling, and so it would be no great feat to catch them and observe from a distance if the nanny was alone or with anyone else. I slammed my tea cup down on table making the maid in the hall squeak in alarm. Ignoring her completely I took my coat and umbrella from the hall stand and calling to my wife that I was leaving, and so exited the house into a day of bright sunshine. The umbrella was but a precaution of course, for the weather vane on the roof of the house opposite was still indicating that the wind was blowing from the west. Yet I felt that there would be a change in the air at some point in the future, though this did not seem to be today. Buttoning my coat tightly I set forth in pursuit of the nanny and the children.
I walked swiftly towards the park entrance, swinging the umbrella as I went. There was no sign of them along the street but I knew that at the next junction I would need to head left to where the park entrance stood, and as I turned the corner I could see up ahead that there in front of the grand opened gates and railings stood the nanny and the children. I felt my anger rising as it appeared that the nanny was apparently lost in conversation with some scruffily dressed man who the children were staring at almost in awe. As I approached it became apparent that the man had a large drum strapped to his back and was apparently making some awful noise with an accordion whilst at the same time banging the drum with strings tied to two sticks secured to its casing. The noise was quite awful!
I was less than twenty paces from the nanny who had her back to me when the man with the drum stopped abruptly and both the nanny and the children began to clap in appreciation. No doubt the large drum had made them stone deaf! I slowed my pace and was now nearly upon them when without turning the nanny suddenly stopped clapping.
“Mister Berkeley.” she said almost if it were a sigh. “You appear to be late for work I see.” then she turned, cocking an eyebrow at me in that impudent manner that she seems to possess.
“Daddy, daddy!” squealed the children, running towards me and hugging me about the waist. “Have you come to join us on our trip around the park?”
“Around the park?” laughed the gentleman with the drum. “If I knows this nanny better I would say the park ain’t gonna be where she’s a-taking yar, and that’s feh sure!” Or at least that is what I thought he said, for his accent was an appalling mix of Irish and American with just a slight edge of the Queen’s English. Predominantly though, his accent was definitely that of a commoner.
“This is Seth, Mister Berkeley.” said the nanny and the man had the barefaced cheek to tip his crumpled hat at me. I examined him closely. He looked as if he got dressed in a hurry, his clothes ill-fitting and seemingly a random mix of various colours and styles, most of them long since forgotten. He looked like a concoction of half gypsy and the other half workhouse fodder.
“I thought you said he was a chimney sweep.” I sniffed; ignoring the dirty looking fellow altogether, for although I could see nothing of a sweep about him today, he did have large dark patches that may or may not have been soot. I cannot say for sure of course, not because I did not want to appear to stare, no, it was with repugnance that I could not meet his gaze that day. It did not stop him addressing me though.
“Not today soir.” he said, a broad grin crossing his dirty face. “Some days a skriver, some a sweep.” He banged the drum loudly, startling me. “Today oi’s be a musician though!” and he gave a little squeeze on the accordion again, causing my two children to squeal in delight.
“That is of course a matter of opinion.” I said to him, shrugging the children off me and facing the nanny who was smiling at me in that knowing fashion of hers. I moved off some way off from the man and left the children watching as he squeezed what may possibly have been a tune out of the accordion.
“A word please, nanny.” I said and the nanny followed me, though she did not say a single word.
“I am somewhat concerned about this.” I said as she stood looking at me, her eyes now fixed upon me.
“Concerned about what, Mister Berkeley?” she asked in what could only be considered as an impudent manner.
“Well this… this…” I found myself stammering as she continued to stare at me. “This… fraternization and dilly dallying with sweeps and the like.” I felt my face colouring but she still did not take her eyes off me. I felt my ire rising and felt vaguely dizzy, so annoyed did I find myself. “It must stop immediately nanny!” I resisted the urge to wag my finger at her as he continued to stare. “My children are not to make themselves familiar with common folk, sweeps and the like! Do I make myself quite clear?” I heard my voice rising now but it seemed almost as if it came from far away. I felt warm, nausea rising within me, and I felt my attention floating, soaring far away from her.
“Clearly.” I heard her say as if from somewhere far away, my head spinning and I reached out and grabbed the door to my office to steady myself. I glanced around in a panic. Where had the park gone? I slumped against the door and slid to the floor. Luckily the corridor was empty as I lay against the wall breathing heavily, my head swimming. What on Earth had happened? One moment I was in the park, the next outside my office, with absolutely no recollection whatsoever of the journey in between!
I glanced up the corridor. That it was indeed the corridor outside my office was no doubt, for the brass plate on the door held my name. As I lay there in a swoon I heard a door open at the end of the corridor and forcing my gaze in that direction my head continued to spin as I noticed Mister Hatch entering the corridor. With a gasp I rose swiftly and entered my office, closing the door behind me as silently as I was able. My office was empty of course, but I stood leaning against the closed door at my back, breathing hard as I heard Mister Hatch pass my office and continue down the corridor. Breathing a sigh of relief, I staggered to my desk and sat down swiftly, struggling to focus at the blotter and inkwell before me.
I sat there for some time gathering my wits, staring at the blotter that is of course changed daily by the cleaning staff. Yet as I felt my heart slowing and my sick feeling leaving me I could not help but concentrate on a large black ink splattered blot on the paper before me. It was the size of a thumb and odd in shape, staining the paper in a formless mess. I sat there trying to make sense of the ink spillage for I am a careful man and it could not have been done by my own hand. Yet as I looked at it the ink seemed to become darker, even more black if that were possible. To my mind it looked smeared, more like dust than ink.
It looked like soot.
***
The day passed slowly. My initial feeling of confusion at suddenly finding myself outside my office eased slowly but I could not escape my inertia and found even the most rudimentary tasks difficult to complete or concentrate on. Eventually however I settled into making the best of it and managed to accomplish several small tasks before a note was delivered to my office just after lunch indicating that Mister Hatch wished to see me post haste. Fearing the worst that my swoon in the corridor outside my office earlier had been observed I straightened my tie and made my way along the corridor where, after being announced by his secretary, I was allowed into Mister Hatch’s office.
“Come in Berkeley.” he said from behind his desk. His office was large and designed to impress, various portraits covering the finely wainscoted walls. The man himself was short and slim, his size the equal of his legendarily flimsy sense of humour. He did not look displeased however. Nor did he look happy. In truth, he seldo
m did. I sat myself down in front of his desk and he sat, fingers interlaced for a period of time that was just beginning to become uncomfortable before he began to speak. “How long have you been with the bank, Berkeley?” he asked, though no doubt the piece of paper in front of him that was covered in carefully typed words told him this already.
“Seventeen years this spring, Mister Hatch.” I said, and I saw him glance at the paper carefully before nodding his head seemingly in agreement to my answer.
“A long time.” he said.
“A happy time too, sir.” I smiled, for I considered it to be so. These were not idle words just for his ears.
“Indeed.” he said, picking up the piece of paper from his desk and glancing at it before placing it back down on the blotter once again. “And how is the trading in foreign bonds department these days?” It was of course a superfluous question, for he knew perfectly well the answer already.
“Very well.” I replied, “All running extremely efficiently and of course tidily.” He smiled at this, as his reputation for neatness was well known, and it was but a brave attempt on my behalf to inject a little humour into the conversation. He smiled thinly and clasped his hands together on the blotter once again.
“Good” he said. “I shall cut to the chase, Berkeley. We have an opening in foreign currency coming up shortly, and I feel that you may be just the man for it.”
“Why thank you sir.” I heard myself saying. This really was a turn-up for the books! I had jealously watched the foreign currency department for some years yet I never thought that I would rise to its dizzy heights!
“No need to thank me Berkeley.” he said. “Your good work has been brought to my attention and I feel that Mister Jakes, the current head of foreign currency would be very pleased to meet you to assess your suitability. He is going into trust funds you know.”
“How exciting!” I said, for this was another a department I admired greatly.
“Indeed. I suggest perhaps that Mister Jakes and I attend your office on say Friday at three o’clock to observe your overseeing of the ledgers. How does that suit?”
“It suits perfectly, sir!” I said, and shaking hands I found myself wandering back through the corridors to my office.
By late afternoon however I was starting to feel extremely tired, and a dull throbbing headache had settled behind my eyes, making it even more difficult for me to concentrate on my tasks to hand. By three thirty it was obvious to me that I would be of no use to the application of my position to remain at work and so leaving instructions with my clerks as to the securing of the ledgers for the night I returned home, though this time I took a hansom as I wanted to take a sip of something strong to settle my humours, and to retire to my study.
Upon my return to home I slipped my coat off and hung it on the stand and called to my wife who was in the living room.
“You are home early, Geoffrey.” she said, seemingly startled. “Are you well? You do look a little peaky.”
“I am fine.” I smiled. Though of that fact I was not sure at all, “just thought I would take an early finish.” She looked even more startled by that.
“Well that is not like you at all.” she said, looking even more worried than before now.
“Are the children about?” I asked casually, for I was keen to repair to my study and yet did not want to seem to rush there too quickly.
“Still out with the nanny.” said Wilhelmina. “They were back for lunch and then straight back out again.”
“Well I hope that there are no chimney sweeps about.” I said, scowling.
“I wouldn’t have thought so darling.” she said. “I should imagine they are all busy cleaning chimneys at the moment.”
“Yes, yes.” I muttered, before adding, “I shall be in my study.” My wife had barely enough time to smile at me before I opened the study door and went to enter, before I realised that if the nanny was out with the children then the nursery was currently empty. I glanced at my pocket watch. Four fifteen. I knew that the children had their dinner at precisely five o’clock as per my instructions, and so therefore they would probably be out for just a little while longer. Closing the study door without a sound I tip toed up the stairs and crept along the corridor to the nursery. Glancing around the corner of the corridors to ensure none of my maids were about I gave a gentle knock on the nursery door and hearing no response, turned the handle and entered, closing the door quickly but quietly behind me.
The first thing that struck me was just how tidy the room actually was. As per my previous visit nothing seemed to be out of place at all. Toys and clothes were neatly stacked; everything in its proper place. The nursery itself consisted of three adjoining rooms. The main nursery was where I was now, and the children had a bedroom off to the right. Straight ahead was the nanny’s room, and although the bedroom door was open, the nanny’s door was not. Feeling almost like an intruder in my own home I crossed the nursery and looked into the bedroom. This was just as tidy as the main room, the bed neatly made and everything appeared to be in order. I leaned on the bedroom door frame and looked inside closely. My initial inspection appeared to be correct. Nothing was out of place at all, not as far as I was aware anyway. I crossed the nursery once again and tried the door knob to the nanny's room, almost expecting it to be locked. Yet it was not. The handle turned easily and I gave the door a small push, letting it fall open. The bedroom was also extremely tidy, showing scant signs of occupation. The bed was made and the nanny’s closed carpet bag lay beneath the table, also closed. I crept into the room slowly, although why I did so completely eludes me. It is my house after all! I made to examine the bag but stopped as I approached the table, which was not empty.
To one side there sat a bowl filled with sugar, a small silver spoon jutting up from it. This I recognised from my previous recent visit to be the children's tonic and so I lifted it up and sniffed at it. It smelt sickly sweet; just like ordinary sugar in fact, yet the crystals in the bowl looked dull, almost grey in colour. Wetting my finger, I dipped it in the bowl and put sugar in my mouth. It tasted sweet of course, but also dry and dusty. Coughing slightly, I replaced the bowl on the table. It certainly didn’t taste like normal sugar to me! To the side of the bowl there were laid several pieces of stiff brown paper cut into neat squares, no doubt for some game or activity involving the children, and a large ball of brown string was beside them.
The main item on the desk however was a large hideous looking plant, which stood about a foot tall. It looked more like a weed, but the main flowering part of the plant looked rather vulgar, two pink clam shelled leaves tightly squeezed shut, sharp looking small spikes rising from the flowers serrated leaves.
“It is called a Venus Fly Trap.” said nanny’s voice from behind me and I felt my heart give a definite bump as I shot in the air. I must have screamed when I did so as my two children stood beside her, clutching at her skirts in fright. “Dionaea muscipula I believe.”
“I beg your pardon?” I asked, my voice surprisingly calm but also a little on the wrong side of high pitched.
“Dionaea muscipula.” repeated nanny, removing her hat and throwing it on the bed. “Though I believe the more vulgar call it tipitiwitchet.” she smiled conspiratorially. “Don’t tell the children that though.” and to my surprise she winked at me.
“Quite.” I said, feeling as if I had been caught up to no good in my own home.
“The flowers when open have little hairs inside. If two are disturbed within a short period of time then the leaves close, trapping the insect. If the creature continues to struggle inside, then the leaves tighten.” She gave a thin smile. “Either way, the plant then digests the insect and when done the flowers open again. If there is no movement and there is no insect trapped inside the leaves then twelve hours is the usual period of time before it opens once more.” She leaned forward and flicked one of the leaves casually. “I believe this one is about to open again shortly. I must admit that I have been teasing it wi
th a pin.” She smiled slyly.
“It eats the insect?” I asked incredulously.
“Indeed it does.” said Nanny.
“How awful. I would suggest that you keep this away from my children if you will please. I cannot imagine why any normal person would have one of these as a centrepiece on a table.”
“The children find it interesting.” she said. “It is purely for scientific value of course.” A dark smile played across her face momentarily, revealing her sharp thin teeth. “Personally I find it amusing.” She sat on the bed as the children retreated to the nursery to find toys to play with, though I did note that they were looking extremely tired and listless.
“Why are you in my bedroom Mister Berkeley?” she asked, smiling at me as she neatly changed the subject of conversation.
“I rather think it is actually my bedroom actually.” I said, attempting to smile back at her. She just looked at me as if I were a stone she had found in her shoe.
“Let us be perfectly clear on this, mister Berkeley.” she said calmly but firmly, “While I am in residence in this house this is my room and you will enter it at your peril sir!” I found myself completely flabbergasted, and could not think of anything to say at all, my mouth opening and closing like a beached fish, and yet no sound came from me. Suddenly on the table there was a rustle of leaves and I saw the leaves on the Venus Fly Trap plant slowly open to reveal an empty leaf case, small thin airs clearly visible inside the flower.
“Ah it is ready to feed.” said the nanny happily. She turned to look at me as if noticing me for the first time. “I think perhaps you and I have got off on the wrong foot as they say, mister Berkeley.”
“Have we?” I almost whispered, staring at the dark interior of the plants flower. It was deep red; crimson yet also black lined as if soot had fallen there.
“We have.” smiled nanny. “The children and I are going to the park again tomorrow. Perhaps you would like to accompany us?” I found myself rising and heading for the door that led out of the nursery. It was if my legs were moving not to my accord but to someone else’s!
The Waiting Room Page 13