Julius and the Soulcatcher

by Tim Hehir

  Julius felt Clara’s eyes on him, he did not dare look around.

  Clara stroked the bare wall with her fingers. ‘Yes, a few pictures would be nice,’ she said.

  ‘We should be going,’ said Julius. ‘Grandfather will be wondering where I am.’

  Clara fidgeted with the ribbons of her bonnet. ‘Oh, yes, of course. Give Father my best wishes,’ she said. ‘Tell him I’m well.’

  ‘Yes, I will,’ said Julius. He realised that he meant it.

  Emily jumped off the bed. ‘I’ll come back tomorrow, Clara,’ she said. ‘If you find a small animal wot won’t be missed, can you nick it for me? I’ll bring a bag for it.’

  ‘We’ll see, dear,’ said Clara, smiling to herself.

  Julius took a last look around the room and at his mother. He hoped she would be happy there. ‘I can get some prints for the walls,’ he said. ‘What sort of scenes do you like?’

  Clara thought for a moment. ‘Castles,’ she said. She linked her arm with his to walk him out.

  At the stairway, Julius heard a scraping sound. He moved closer to the stairs and saw the armoured-rat creature scrabbling up towards him.

  ‘Good gracious,’ said Clara.

  Further down the staircase and around the corner came the sounds of many paws in pursuit.

  The rat creature reached the top of the stairs and ran in an awkward hobbling motion along one of the corridors. A strange pack of terrier-sized dogs came into view at the turn in the staircase. They raced up the stairs as if on a hunt.

  The rat creature, now too terrified to know where it was going, ran into a wall, then curled itself up into an armoured ball.

  ‘Heel. Heel, damn you,’ called out someone from below.

  ‘Oi, pick on someone your own size,’ said Emily, to the dogs snapping at the balled-up creature.

  The dogs were not like any Julius had seen before. And they were not barking like dogs, but emitting high-pitched yelps. Their heads seemed too large for their bodies and their snouts too long for their heads. Black stripes ran across their sleek, brown backs, and their hind legs were disproportionately small. All in all, they looked like a child’s drawing of a dog come to life.

  A man appeared at the turn in the stairs. ‘Heel,’ he wheezed, and he grasped the banister and hauled himself to the top of the stairs.

  Julius, Emily and Clara stared in disbelief. There were five or six tiny hummingbirds flitting around the man’s head. Their feathers were a shimmering green and their wings were a buzzing blur as they took turns darting back and forth to dip their long beaks into the man’s ears. The man paid them no attention.

  ‘Heel, heel,’ he called to the dogs.

  The dogs left the curled-up creature and gathered around the old man’s feet.

  Clara bobbed a quick curtsey.

  This must be Lord Bloomingbury, Higgins.

  Julius reckoned His Lordship to be in his mid-seventies. His arms and legs were as thin as rake handles, but his belly was a dome over which his waistcoat buttons strained. His white hair was splendidly curled in the latest fashion and his side-whiskers were as bushy and white as clouds.

  ‘Good Heavens,’ he said, looking from Clara, to Emily and finally to Julius.

  ‘Good evening, Your Lordship,’ said Clara, a little flustered. She curtsied again.

  The strange dogs sniffed around the man’s feet, not able to be still for a moment.

  ‘Who the devil are you?’ he said.

  ‘Clara Higgins, sir. I’m to start as under-housekeeper tomorrow morning, sir,’ said Clara. ‘I was just settling into my room, sir.’

  Lord Bloomingbury’s mouth opened wide to let out a long. ‘Ahhh.’ Then he continued. ‘I comprehend, entirely. Welcome, welcome, my dear, to my humble abode.’

  ‘Thank you, sir.’

  ‘However…I thought my advertisement was clear, Miss Higgins—no family ties,’ said Lord Bloomingbury. He glanced disapprovingly from Emily to Julius. ‘I cannot have my servants’ lives complicated by children and such like. I thought that was quite clear—no families.’

  ‘Oh, it was, sir,’ said Clara, curtseying again.

  ‘We ain’t family, gov,’ said Emily. ‘We’re only visiting. We live next door, but one, from where Clara used to work. We just ’appened to bump into ’er in the Zoo Gardens. We got talking and we said we’d see ’er ’ome. Ain’t that right, Julius?’

  ‘Er, yes,’ said Julius. He was impressed by what a convincing liar Emily was. He almost believed her himself.

  Lord Bloomingbury’s disapproval turned into a concerned smile. ‘So, my child, your parents do not know where you are?’ he asked.

  ‘Naaa. They don’t ’ave the foggiest notion,’ said Emily. ‘Nobody does.’

  ‘I’m terribly sorry, Your Lordship,’ said Clara. ‘They were just on their way out.’

  Lord Bloomingbury did not appear to be listening. He tapped his chin. ‘Interesting. Very interesting,’ he said.

  The armoured rat had unfurled itself and was trying to sneak away down the corridor. The dogs gave chase.

  ‘Young man,’ he said to Julius. ‘Could I beg your assistance? Be so kind as to retrieve the creature yonder.’

  Julius hesitated. He did not relish the idea of grappling with it.

  ‘Do not fear, my boy. Armadillos are timid creatures,’ said Lord Bloomingbury. ‘I suggest you pick it up by its tail.’

  Julius followed the escaping armadillo and grabbed its tail with both hands. It was surprisingly heavy, but, to Julius’s great delight, it did not try to bite him—it curled up into a ball and hung upside down like a clock’s pendulum.

  ‘Splendid. You are a gifted animal handler,’ said Lord Bloomingbury. ‘Now, follow me and I shall show you a dodo.’

  ‘A dodo, sir? said Julius. ‘But, they’re all gone aren’t they? All dead for two hundred years.’

  Lord Bloomingbury chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. ‘What a clever young fellow you are,’ he said. ‘Perhaps you’re correct. But what if you’re not?’

  ‘’ow big is a dodo, sir?’ said Emily. ‘Would it fit in a sack, do you fink?’

  ‘Probably,’ said Lord Bloomingbury. ‘Why do you ask?’

  Clara put her arm around Emily’s shoulder. ‘I do apologise, Your Lordship,’ she said. ‘Shush now, Emily,’ she whispered.

  ‘Do you even know what a dodo is?’ asked Julius.

  ‘Yes, I bleeding I do,’ said Emily.

  Clara attempted a good-natured titter as she tried to edge Emily down the stairs.

  ‘I’m most terribly sorry, Your Lordship,’ she said. ‘We really should be going.’

  Lord Bloomingbury chuckled again. ‘Think nothing of it, Miss Higgins,’ he said. ‘The child has spirit. What a specimen. I should like to add her to my collection.’

  His shoulders shook as he laughed at his joke. ‘Follow me,’ he said, when he’d composed himself. ‘Let’s hunt down a dodo.’

  He walked down the stairs, with the strange dogs scrambling after him

  ‘Better do as His Lordship says,’ whispered Clara. ‘Emily, please don’t speak again.’

  ‘I’ll try,’ whispered Emily. ‘But I ain’t promising naffing.’

  They followed Lord Bloomingbury through a door into another long and finely decorated corridor. Huge paintings of exotic animals and birds lined the walls. A horned creature walked gracefully by, ignoring everyone.

  ‘That’s my oryx,’ said Lord Bloomingbury. ‘It’s rather aloof.’

  ‘That’s the peculiar ’orse wot we saw,’ whispered Emily.

  Lord Bloomingbury nearly tripped on the dogs many times as he wandered the corridors. They passed a herd of peccaries and a pair of sleeping warthog along the way—he stepped over them without comment.

  ‘Here we are,’ he said. They had come to a door with the word ‘Library’ painted on it.

  Julius looked around for somewhere to put the armadillo. In the middle of the room stood round tables where volumes as larg
e as cottage doors lay open to show exquisite paintings of birds, plants and animals. Some of the illustrations appeared to be stained with bird droppings. Looking up, Julius saw why—long-tailed parrots were perched on the chandeliers. He could make out at least one nest in the crystal pieces.

  The thought of so many wonderful books being treated with such disrespect pained Julius. It would have made his grandfather weep.

  ‘Put it anywhere,’ said Lord Bloomingbury to Julius.

  When Julius went to put the armadillo down the strange dogs leapt towards it.

  ‘Oi,’ said Emily. ‘Them dogs, wot kind are they, gov? I ain’t seen naffing like ’em in my life.’

  ‘They’re thylacines, from Van Diemen’s Land,’ Lord Bloomingbury said, as he shooed them out of the library and closed the door behind them. ‘Still pups, though. I plan to breed them up. Soon every boy in England will have a pet thylacine, mark my words.’

  Julius released the armadillo. It unfurled itself and ambled away to a corner where it hid under a globe mounted on a wooden stand.

  ‘Your ’ouse is ace, gov,’ said Emily. ‘You must be the luckiest man in England?’

  ‘Yes. I suppose I am,’ he replied. ‘I have creatures from all over the known world, and some of the unknown, too. Come now. I promised to show you a dodo.’

  With that, Lord Bloomingbury turned a door-handle. Emily clapped her hands and pushed in front of Julius.

  ‘Calm yourself, Emily,’ whispered Clara.

  The next room was a large sitting room with a fire roaring in a splendid fireplace. Lord Bloomingbury waved his hand at the portraits around the room—all finely attired gentlemen and ladies in regal poses. ‘That’s the family, all the way back to the Battle of Hastings,’ he said.

  Emily’s eyes darted around the room looking for the dodo. All Julius could see were white streaks on the walls were the wallpaper had been pulled off. He noticed a faint odour and sniffed. It was like two-week-old meat.

  A lizard, as long as a man, was sleeping on the couch. It flicked its tail, making Clara jump.

  ‘There it is!’ shouted Emily.

  A bird like a large grey chicken tootled out from behind a chair. It pecked at the wallpaper with its oddly shaped beak and then pulled a strip off.

  ‘This is the only remaining dodo in the entire world,’ said Lord Bloomingbury, proudly.

  ‘Pity you’ve only got the one, gov,’ said Emily. She tried to corral the bird, but it hopped around her and ran along the wall squawking. ‘I’d love to ’ave a dodo for myself.’

  ‘I like to have things that no one else does,’ said Lord Bloomingbury. ‘I find it most invigorating. I’m always on the lookout for unique and extraordinary specimens. Which leads me to my next—’

  ‘Per’aps I could borrow it?’ said Emily. ‘Or ’ave one of its eggs?’ She had the dodo cornered and was trying to imitate the noises it made. ‘I’ll bring it back when I’m finished wiv it, honest.’

  Julius looked at Clara. She appeared to be about to faint from mortification. ‘Yes, well. Thank you, Emily, dear,’ she said. ‘I really think you ought to be getting home.’

  Julius tried to give Emily a reproachful look but she did not see it. She had calmed the dodo and was cuddling it like a long lost favourite pet.

  ‘Come on, Emily,’ said Clara. ‘Time to go home.’ She took Emily’s arm and quickly curtsied to Lord Bloomingbury. ‘Thank you, sir,’ she said. ‘I’ll see to the children. Thank you, ever so much.’

  ‘Just a moment,’ said Lord Bloomingbury. He tilted a book on a shelf and the whole bookshelf opened a few inches, like a door. The meaty odour Julius had noticed before wafted through the crack.

  Clara coughed. Julius’s eyes begin to water.

  ‘You haven’t seen anything yet,’ said Lord Bloomingbury.

  ‘Wot is it?’ said Emily, gleefully.

  Clara placed her handkerchief over her mouth and coughed again. She pulled on Emily’s arm and led her back to the door they had come in through.

  ‘But you really must see—’ said Lord Bloomingbury.

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ cut in Clara. She spluttered into her handkerchief. ‘Come on children. Home with you.’

  ‘’ang on,’ said Emily, as she was being pulled to the door.

  ‘Good evening, sir,’ said Julius. He opened the door for Clara who bustled Emily out.

  ‘But you will miss the—’

  ‘Thank you, Your Lordship,’ said Clara. Cutting him off before he could say anything else to excite Emily. ‘Thank you.’

  Lord Bloomingbury stood at the bookshelf with a quizzical expression on his face. He was just about to say something when Julius quickly bowed and closed the door.

  Clara coughed again but it quickly turned into the laughter of relief.

  ‘Emily, you’ll get me sacked before I even start,’ she said. She gave Emily a playful push through the library door. ‘I don’t think anyone’s ever spoken to His Lordship the way you did. I could have died.’

  ‘’e didn’t mind,’ said Emily. ‘’e was a nice old geeza.’

  Out in the corridor the thylacine pups leapt around them, yipping and flicking their tails.

  Clara tried to shoo them away. ‘When you asked to borrow his dodo…I…I…’ Clara burst into laughter again. ‘Quick,’ she said. ‘Before he comes out.’

  She took Julius and Emily by the hand and they ran along the corridor, with the thylacines bounding after them.

  Through the hectic kitchen, they ran, and out the door. At the top of the steps they stood under the gas light, their laughter dying away. Emily sniffed at the cold.

  ‘You’ve got your cab fare?’ said Clara.

  Julius nodded and jangled the coins in his pocket.

  ‘Best go to Penton Place, there’s a cab row there,’ she said.

  Julius hunched up his shoulders against the cold. Clara reached out and touched his arm as if to warm him.

  ‘I’ll bring some pictures of castles for you,’ he said. ‘When I come again.’

  Clara looked happy and sad all at once. ‘Safe home, now,’ she mouthed when her voice failed her.

  ‘And I’ll speak to grandfather,’ said Julius. ‘I’ll ask him to invite you to tea.’

  ‘Oh, no,’ said Clara. She held up her hands. ‘No. It’s better if—’

  ‘I’ll speak to him,’ said Julius. ‘It will be all right.’

  Julius turned to Emily. ‘I can see you back to the academy,’ he said.

  Emily shrugged. ‘If you want. I ain’t bothered.’

  Julius felt the sting of the missing ‘’iggins’ in her reply.

  ‘Come on,’ he said.

  They walked across the stable yard and made their way across the parkland, towards the lights of Penton Place. The air was still and the frozen mist burrowed into their bones. To Julius’s surprise, Emily tucked her arm under his. He felt her lean into him as they walked in step.

  ‘I saw Skinner,’ he said. ‘He’s a patient in Bedlam. The soulcatchers are growing out of him. Darwin’s working on a cure.’

  ‘Ace,’ said Emily. ‘I told you we did it right.’

  ‘Looks like it,’ said Julius. ‘Thanks for not telling Mr Flynn about, you know, the pocketwatch and the time-jump. ‘I am going to tell him. I just need the right moment.’

  Emily did not reply.

  ‘I’m sorry for what I said,’ he said.

  He felt Emily’s arm sliding out of his. It was as if his coat had suddenly disappeared. Coldness enveloped him.

  Fine, be like that. See if I care.

  ‘Did you hear me?’ he asked, when it became clear that she was not going to respond.

  ‘Come on. Let’s run or the cold’ll do for us.’

  He followed her over the grass. The short cut to Penton Place took them past the Surrey Zoological Gardens. The spikes at the top of the fence could just be made out against the night sky. At the New Street gate Emily stopped. In the darkness she was an airy mixture of sounds and
glimpsed movements.

  ‘You missed seeing the Animal ’ouse. It was ace,’ she said. ‘Not as good as ’is Lordship’s, though.’

  Julius followed her to the large wrought-iron gates. They put their faces through the bars.

  ‘I’ll ’ave all sorts of animals when ’ave my own gaff,’ said Emily.

  Julius wished she would call him ’iggins again.

  ‘Look. Over there,’ said Emily.

  ‘I think that’s the Orchid House. Someone’s inside,’ said Julius.

  It appeared to be someone pushing a wheelbarrow piled high with birdcages.

  ‘Bit late for gardening,’ said Emily.

  ‘Not Tock’s kind of gardening,’ said Julius.

  CHAPTER 19

  Sunday 21st January 1838

  8:12 PM

  Julius peered through the gate at the Orchid House. ‘Did you see the cages, Emily?’ he said. ‘Tock keeps soulcatchers and rats in cages just like them.’

  Emily rattled the gate. ‘It’s locked,’ she said.

  ‘We’ll go and get Mr Flynn,’ said Julius.

  Emily snorted derisively. ‘No we bleeding won’t,’ she said. ‘Locks is always pickable. I don’t know why people bother making ’em.’

  Julius heard her rummage through her purse. ‘It’s in ’ere somewhere,’ she said to herself.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘’ere, you ’old the light while I pick,’ she said, handing him a box of Lucifers. ‘The more we see, the more we can tell Mr Flynn when we fetch ’im.’ She ran her hand along the wrought iron, feeling for the lock.

  ‘Strike a light,’ she said. ‘I’ve got it.’

  Julius lit a Lucifer while Emily rummaged through her purse again. She took out a two slim lengths of steel, like large pins with kinks at one end.

  ‘You’re in charge now then, are you?’ said Julius.

  Emily cast him a quick grin then inserted one of the pins. She jiggled it around to get a feel for tumblers inside the lock. Then she inserted the other pin at the bottom of the slot, and, six Lucifers later, the gate was open.

  Julius and Emily moved silently through the gardens, guessing their progress by degrees of darkness. A large black block was a teahouse. Amorphous shapes were bushes. The grey lines before them were the pathways. Julius knew they had reached the domed Animal House from the growls and cries inside, as well as from the smell.