Arnie Jenks and the House of Strangers

by Tim Bradley

  Arnie caught up with her around the corner of the building and looked up. Stacked against the wall were bales of straw and above that a low ledge. ‘Worth a try,’ whispered Emily, as she clambered up and started to climb. Arnie followed reluctantly.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  A Secret Rendezvous

  Inside the stables Lady Dervela’s eyes slowly grew accustomed to the light. A single naked flame hung midway from a central crossbeam.

  ‘Joseph – are you there?’

  There was a long pregnant pause broken only by a bird flapping as if being throttled somewhere high up in the rafters. Then a brief silence before Joseph spoke.

  ‘You should not have followed me,’ said the low silky voice.

  ‘But I need to see you,’ called out Lady Dervela.

  Joseph stepped out in front of her.

  ‘I knew you would come here,’ she said. ‘It is our special place isn’t it?’

  A window rattled above them. Sharing a dangerous look, Joseph carefully craned his neck to see higher before nimbly scaling a ladder that led to the hayloft.

  As he rose up, Arnie’s shoes slipped out of sight noiselessly.

  Joseph sniffed the air and stared at the spot behind where Arnie stood hidden, right next to Emily, who was also holding her breath. Joseph took one step at a time, closing in almost to the point where he would see Arnie.

  Then as Joseph slowed, a flying shape flitted in front of him and out through the open window. A burly shaggy cat hissed as it reached the other side scrabbling away along the roof.

  Joseph exhaled thankfully and slowly returned to the floor below. He smiled as Lady Dervela crept out of the gloom to join him.

  ‘It is all right. No one is going to find us here. We are quite safe,’ she assured him, caressing his leather-brown cheek.

  Up in the hayloft, Arnie and Emily turned around very carefully keeping tight to the upright pillar, until they found a split in the wood through which they could spy unobserved.

  ‘I am being taken back to sea,’ Joseph confessed.

  ‘No!’ Lady Dervela gasped.

  ‘It is true. His Lordship has just told me, he says he needs me too much and I have no choice but to go.’

  ‘But we agreed that you should stay here – it was Charles’s idea.’

  ‘Now, he has a change of…heart – and I must do as I am ordered.’

  ‘No! You can’t…you mustn’t!’ Lady Dervela clasped her hands and squeezed them so tight that her little blue veins showed through.

  ‘I can – he is my Master.’

  ‘And I am your Mistress!’ Lady Dervela shrank back as she realised what she had said.

  Emily mouthed to Arnie, ‘I was right!’ He nodded and then squashed his nose back against the wood and watched.

  Lady Dervela turned away from Joseph and spoke firmly. ‘I’ll talk to Charles. Explain the value of your work here at the hall and how much of a loss it would be if you left us.’ Her voice broke but she struggled on. ‘I don’t want to wait a year to see you again.’

  Joseph pressed his hands together.

  ‘I think if I step aboard Empress – I will not come back.’

  Lady Dervela swung round and leaned towards him. ‘Why? What has Charles said?’

  ‘He did not need to say it. I just feel…a bad omen. It is because of what we have done.’

  ‘No. I have led you into this, it is my fault.’

  ‘My Lady…’ soothed Joseph.

  ‘No! It is my wrongdoing that has led to Charles’s fury, he is right to be angry with me but I thought that was all settled.’

  ‘It seems not,’ said Joseph, turning to face her. ‘I must leave tonight.’

  ‘No!’ said Lady Dervela passionately. ‘I will reason with him – make him not feel this way. It is all in his head. About…’

  ‘Me and you? Is it?’

  ‘Yes – it is preposterous. How could anyone believe such a thing – the Lady of the House forming an alliance with anyone other than her husband? He is deluded. I shall make that clear.’

  Joseph gently put his hand on Lady Dervela’s shoulder and pulled her towards him. He then kissed her tenderly and held her tight. After the briefest of moments, they separated and Lady Dervela stepped towards the door.

  ‘I must go – I’ll be missed.’ Her eyes appeared to water. ‘I’ll come back as soon as I can and we will talk some more. Promise me?’ she said. ‘You will wait here?’

  A hint of a smile flickered across Joseph’s face as she held his look for a second before she slowly turned away.

  Arnie and Emily made for the open window. They just had time to swing themselves through it before Joseph scaled back up the ladder and stood silently watching. Arnie clawed his way along the edge of the thatched roof following Emily, careful not to slip and fall.

  The moon was sulking behind the clouds as they jumped down to the ground and peered cautiously into the yard.

  Lady Dervela was looking up at the sky. She then lifted the edge of her dress and started to run, her hair trailing roughly behind, her shiny face dripping with tears as she cried.

  Arnie moved to follow but Emily stopped him.

  ‘No! Look!’ she whispered sharply. ‘Over there!’

  Lord Martlesham stood statue-like, ashen faced, watching Lady Dervela retreat into the night. Seconds later, he too was gone.

  ‘Do you think he saw what happened inside?’ said Emily worried.

  ‘I don’t know. Can’t be chance that he’s here though, can it? We should get to the house and tell Lady Dervela,’ urged Arnie.

  ‘What good would that do?’ argued Emily. ‘It could only make things worse.’

  ‘Well,’ accepted Arnie, ‘perhaps we had better warn Joseph to leave?’

  Emily looked sad but nodded reluctantly.

  ‘I thought you would be on their side,’ said Arnie.

  ‘I can’t be. Maybe in your time it would be possible but as in mine – it’s doomed. They’d be better off never having met.’

  ‘That sucks,’ Arnie muttered to himself.

  Emily looked at him, torn.

  ‘What?’

  ‘We need to do it quickly,’ Emily realised.

  ‘Go on then,’ directed Arnie.

  ‘Why me?’

  ‘Well…it’ll be…easier coming from a…er…someone…older…and you know about these feelings that girls get…’ Arnie blushed.

  ‘No,’ Emily said forcefully. ‘As in my day – he’ll more likely listen to you.’

  ‘Eh?’

  ‘Be a man for once!’ she said, shoving Arnie towards the door.

  Inside the barn, the horses nestled sleepily in their stalls. For a moment all Arnie and Emily could hear was the rustle of dry straw and an occasional contented snort. Then a bag sailed over their heads from the hayloft hitting the stone floor, followed by Joseph climbing down carrying something flat under his arm. They ducked out of the way and hid.

  Trying to hurry, Joseph wrapped the object in cloth and tying it delicately, lodged it behind a double stacked row of barrels before standing up and pausing as if undecided on what to do next.

  Then his senses detected something. He twisted his body effortlessly and stared into a corner. ‘Who is there?’ he sang.

  ‘It’s only us!’ whooped Arnie a second later as they emerged into the light. Arnie had a look of guilt plastered across his face like he had been caught opening his Christmas presents a day early.

  ‘You?’ Joseph looked astonished and took a step closer.

  ‘We won’t say anything!’

  ‘About what?’ said Joseph innocently. ‘I…came here to see the animals…’

  ‘Lord Martlesham knows Lady Dervela was here just now,’ Emily interrupted softly. ‘We wanted to warn you.’

  Joseph sighed. ‘That is why I need to go. At once.’

  He stepped back and scooped up his bag.

  ‘And you’re not to tell Her Ladyship. She will try to stop me leaving.�
�

  Arnie and Emily didn’t move.

  Joseph looked at them for a long moment before suddenly he was striding away towards the far end of the building, escaping swiftly into the night.

  ‘He’s going!’ said Emily relieved.

  ‘Isn’t that what we wanted?’

  ‘Yes I think so…but it’s tragic,’ she said. ‘They looked so in love.’

  Arnie was now on his knees foraging into a gap between two barrels.

  ‘But what do we say?’

  ‘Say?’ said Arnie, struggling to reach the hidden object.

  ‘Yes, say! To Lady Dervela?’

  ‘No idea at the mo – bit busy with this. Could you help me please?’

  Emily joined him and very carefully they extracted the parcel. Propping it up sideways they pulled away the loose sacking.

  ‘It’s a picture,’ said Arnie, slightly surprised as he angled the canvas to see better.

  ‘Of what?’ said Emily, peering over before recognising first the dress, then up to a neck wrapped in pearls, on to the chin and finally – the familiar face.

  ‘It’s Dervela!’ said Arnie, breathing sharply inwards like a detective discovering the identity of the murderer. ‘This is the picture of her I saw when I first arrived here!’

  ‘But why would Joseph have something like this – do you think he stole it?’

  Arnie moved the picture around till he could read the bottom corner. The letter J was inscribed.

  ‘J for Joseph,’ murmured Emily.

  ‘He did it!’ exhaled Arnie. ‘And only just finished – look – this is sticky.’ He indicated an area to the right of where Lady Dervela was positioned. The oil paint was wet.

  ‘A parting gift to her?’ suggested Arnie.

  ‘If Lord Martlesham found this think what he would do?’ Emily responded with alarm.

  ‘He mustn’t find out,’ said Arnie determinedly, repackaging the painting hastily.

  ‘And Lady Dervela?’

  ‘Ok. We had better face her but shouldn’t we make sure that Joseph has had time to get away?’

  Emily nodded.

  ‘We’ll come back for this later,’ said Arnie hastily, pushing the parcel back out of sight.

  Emily sighed before drawing herself up and together they headed off in the direction that Joseph had taken.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The Escape

  Outside, the stars sparkled like a hundred thousand silver pins across a vast universe of black velvet.

  ‘Which way would Joseph have gone?’ cursed Arnie in desperation, stopping at a fork in the path. Emily carried on past him and veered right.

  ‘Oh! Good call!’ he said, following in a heartbeat.

  A little further on they rounded a corner and saw in the distance Joseph making off across a stretch of lawn, beyond which the lake opened out like a giant oil slick.

  A scampering noise from behind made them turn back. Trotting merrily came Lady Dervela’s little dog Tumble, yapping more excitedly as he gathered speed.

  ‘No! Not the time to be a friend!’ urged Arnie, as the dog raced on by making a bee-line for the disappearing figure.

  Joseph turned as Tumble jumped up to him. He knelt down. ‘Come to say goodbye?’

  The dog panted happily, popping out his tiny pink tongue, unaware of a club swishing through the air from behind and cracking down hard on Joseph’s skull. In one swift motion, Joseph keeled over onto the ground. A sharply pointed boot lashed out hard into his side and he groaned helplessly as he was dragged into the bushes.

  Emily snatched Arnie’s arm as he strained to run.

  ‘Let me go!’

  ‘There is nothing you can do!’

  ‘We can’t just leave him!’

  ‘We must – we’re not meant to be here,’ begged Emily, ‘and it’s turning ugly. Let’s get help.’

  ‘Ok,’ said Arnie, seeing the look on Emily’s face. ‘But who can we ask? Not Lady Dervela – we promised we wouldn’t say anything.’

  ‘But Arnie, we’ve got to.’

  They were interrupted. Lord Martlesham stepped out from the bushes onto the path, smoothing his hair and slowly curling his hand around the same club that had struck Joseph. Arnie could see some red marks on his white gloves.

  ‘Blood!’ Arnie spat.

  Lord Martlesham’s eyes stared daggers into them. ‘You two children – come here!’ he bellowed.

  ‘Run!’ shouted Arnie, and he and Emily made off in the opposite direction. They scurried like rabbits, trampling stinging nettles and trashing flowerbeds, covering the full length of the garden to arrive minutes later at the edge of the lake within sprinting distance of the house.

  Arnie set off towards the drive but suddenly realised that he had lost Emily. He turned back and found her a little way off bent over on the ground.

  ‘I can’t keep up!’ she panted, clutching her side. ‘I’ve got a stitch! It hurts!’

  ‘We’re nearly there – once we get back to the party we’ll hide!’

  ‘Where?’ she puffed.

  ‘I don’t know – but we can’t hang about here. He’s in no mood to argue!’

  ‘But he’ll find us in the end and then what’ll happen?’ she moaned, as Arnie helped her hobble to a spot in sight of the open front door. The soft flickering lights and cheery noise of laughing revellers wafted out.

  ‘You!’ bellowed their pursuer from somewhere behind them. Arnie swung back to see Lord Martlesham marching hell-bent towards them. He was closing in fast.

  ‘I command you come to me!’

  ‘Look!’ said Emily, pointing to a high up corner window. Arnie spun round to see a person holding a candle staring out over the drive.

  ‘It’s Lady Dervela!’ he said shakily. ‘We must get up there and tell her what’s happened to Joseph!’

  ‘But we can’t! We shouldn’t interfere in other people’s lives and in another person’s time!’

  ‘Hasn’t stopped us so far,’ Arnie said with a sense of euphoria. ‘Anyway we’ve got no choice – he is lying back there hurt, might even die if we don’t do something!’

  Suddenly Lord Martlesham was upon them. He lunged for Emily.

  ‘No!’ she clawed at his face.

  ‘Get off her – leave her alone!’ shouted Arnie.

  ‘Don’t you dare speak to me like that, you’re on my land and you will do as I say!’ hollered Lord Martlesham, staggering further towards them. But he stumbled awkwardly, twisting and landing heavily.

  Arnie lashed out. ‘You’re not in charge of me – you can’t tell me what to do!’ and pulling away they tore off towards the house, Emily holding her side.

  They slammed into the hall and fought their way through the crowd who watched startled, as Arnie, with Emily a little further behind, scrambled his way to the bottom of the stairs and fled upwards, arriving seconds later at the first floor landing. To his left, seated in a rocking chair, was a figure poised looking out of the window. The candle sat quietly burning on the sill, reflecting a hint as to their identity in the cloudy glass.

  ‘Lady Dervela – we have something to tell you,’ volunteered Arnie carefully as Emily joined him.

  There was no reply.

  ‘Something’s happened – it’s important – we’ve just come from the stables where Joseph…’

  The figure still said nothing.

  ‘Lady Dervela, did you hear what I said?’

  The flame suddenly quivered like a belly dancer’s tummy and went out as a gust of wind rippled over them all. The hubbub of laughing and merriment from below stopped instantly. Emily shivered and whipping round looked down into the hall. It was empty.

  Arnie stared, fixated on the chair as it started to rock ever so slowly. Then the person moved and took a tentative step forward to stand, rising and turning to look at him, clutching a stick for support.

  ‘Joseph? You have news of him?’

  Arnie stumbled as he recognised Lady Dervela’s voice.


  ‘Yes…in a way. He…he…’

  ‘But it has been so long,’ she sighed. ‘Why would he keep me waiting all this time to send word?’

  ‘Well, we got here as fast as we could…’ Arnie stopped speaking as she took another step towards him.

  Emily stifled a gasp.

  Lady Dervela lifted her eyes to meet theirs. Arnie could see she was now an old lady. Hair grey and skin dulled – a face lined and drawn. A tortured hand scrabbled for her pearls.

  ‘You are familiar,’ she said, squinting – scrutinising them intently. ‘Come closer. Have we met before?’

  ‘Um…’ said Arnie, thinking hard of what to say.

  ‘You do remind me of some children who were here once…the night we had a wonderful party…’ she said nostalgically. ‘They looked a little like you.’ Lady Dervela put her hand to her forehead and rubbed it repeatedly.

  Arnie edged nearer to her. ‘Was that a very long time ago?’

  ‘Almost thirty years. My life was very different after that…’ she faltered. ‘He went away you know…without an explanation or a thought for how I must have felt.’

  Lady Dervela steadied herself and swallowed a tiny cry.

  ‘And ever since then I have been watching at this window, day and night for Joseph to return.’ She looked around vaguely, searching. Then resuming her poise, she studied Arnie again.

  ‘You haven’t seen him have you?’ Lady Dervela looked pained. ‘It would be so wonderful if I could…even for a moment.’ She played with her pearls like worry beads.

  ‘No…no…I think it must have been someone else,’ lied Arnie.

  ‘I mean, how could you?’ she realised, ‘You’re so young. Not even born when he was here last.’

  An uncomfortable silence fell as Lady Dervela stepped back unevenly, gripping the side of her chair hard.

  ‘You have heard no news of him at all?’ asked Arnie, ‘Since he…left?’

  ‘No.’ Lady Dervela admitted reluctantly. ‘I made enquires everywhere but he simply vanished. How, I don’t know, he was quite…unique. I thought he would have sent a message. Especially after my husband Charles was drowned on the very sea journey that Joseph was meant to have sailed on that autumn. All lives lost in a ferocious storm that drove Empress of Hope to her death.’