The Derring-Do Club and the Empire of the Dead

by David Wake

  “We should seize our opportunities,” Merryweather said.

  He was squinting up at her, his face shining in the late morning sun.

  “Yes, yes,” she said. “Why not?”

  In the mad whirl on the way back to the hotel, she bought a new umbrella, an expensive Fox’s Paragon ‘never inside out’, which was much more sensible than a parasol, and it did look like rain.

  Miss Charlotte

  Charlotte’s plan was simple: swap clothes with the maid and exit via the servant’s entrance. She’d got into this by changing clothes, so she could get out of it by changing clothes.

  Unfortunately, the servants didn’t come and go; they lived in the Embassy and they were all Germanic: English, even at a loud and shrill tone, wasn’t understood. So, the maid, who had answered “Olga” to three different phrasings of “can I borrow your clothes?”, had left still in her black–and–white uniform.

  So, in the end, Charlotte put on her Aerial Corps uniform and marched through all the military preparations as if she was supposed to be there. There were so many soldiers, air corps and officers that she seemed to fit in, and she’d have been in heaven had it not been for the nature of these manoeuvres.

  She knew the guards at any exit wouldn’t let her just leave, but at the rear of the building, she found an empty room with a sliding window leading to a ledge that she could crawl along. So, risking it, and finding climbing so much easier in trousers, she shimmied down a drainpipe as if the entire Austro–Hungarian Embassy were a tree for scrumping, and then she’d run off down the road. Luckily Kensington wasn’t far.

  Strangely, there was a carriage waiting outside number 12b, Zebediah Row, and climbing in was a gorgeous woman dressed in white.

  “Gina!”

  Georgina went pale when she saw Charlotte as if she had seen a ghost.

  “Gina… it’s me, Charlotte.”

  “Lottie?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh thank the Lord, you’re alive.”

  They embraced, holding on to each other for a long moment.

  “I have such news… why are you dressed like a man?” Georgina asked.

  “I’m an aerial officer. It’s got trousers and–”

  “Are you wearing your corset?”

  “No,” said Charlotte. “It didn’t go with the uniform.”

  “A man’s uniform – honestly Charlotte, you’ll look frumpy. Go and change at once.”

  Charlotte didn’t like that idea, so she changed the subject: “Why are you dressed like that?”

  “Charlotte, prepare yourself for a shock.”

  Charlotte stepped back dubiously.

  “Our sister, Earnestine, is… has passed away.”

  “No, no, she’s–”

  “And I am getting married.”

  “Married?”

  “Yes.”

  “Before Earnestine?”

  “She’s… not with us anymore, so–”

  “But she is, she’s–”

  “So – Charlotte listen – so I’m now the eldest sister and acting head of the family.”

  “Yes, but–”

  “Here.”

  Georgina passed Charlotte a small package. Charlotte opened it to reveal two sticks of seaside rock.

  “Can I eat them now?”

  “No, we’re going to my wedding.”

  “But–”

  “There’ll be cake afterwards,” Georgina chided. “Now, go and get changed… oh, the carriage is here already.”

  “I suppose I’ll have to wear my uniform, after all.”

  Georgina pulled her veil over her face: “Lottie, please don’t ruin my wedding.”

  “I won’t, but–”

  “There’s no buts, Charlotte. We have to seize our opportunities. Arthur says so and I agree with him. This is the calm before the storm and we want to be married while there’s still time. If Earnestine were alive, then things would be different, but she’s not, and so there it is.”

  “If Earnestine was alive, then you wouldn’t marry?”

  “Of course not.”

  “In that case, congratulations.”

  Chapter XVII

  Miss Deering-Dolittle

  Earnestine was very aware that she looked like a drowned rat. She felt like a drowned rat. She was sore and exhausted. She rang the doorbell twice before Cook answered and she had to say her name three times before she was recognised.

  “Been on an adventure, dearie?”

  “No, I have not!” Earnestine said emphatically. She was in no mood for frivolity. “A bath please.”

  “We’re in the middle of laundry, Miss, and the maid–”

  “A bath!”

  “You’ve just missed Miss Geog–”

  “NOW!”

  Earnestine was already peeling off her clothes and dropping them like dead animals on the hallway tiles.

  “Oh, Miss, I…” The maid ran to start boiling water and filling the tin bath.

  “Do you want me to wash these?” said the maid, doubt tingeing every syllable as she touched the filthy garments gingerly with her toe.

  “Burn them,” said Earnestine. “And don’t touch them, I know where they’ve been. Use the fire tongs.”

  “Yes, Miss,” she curtseyed. “I’ll start a fire.”

  “Not in the house, outside!”

  “Yes, Miss.”

  “But first bring me the brandy.”

  “Miss, the brandy’s been put aside for a special occasion.”

  “Bring the bal– brandy!”

  The maid scurried off.

  The hallway was just as she remembered it: the walls and tiled floor tinged with red and blue light as the sun streamed through the stained glass windows of the porch. The small table was awash with post, including two copies of The Strand Magazine (she’d have to hide those from Charlotte), and the hallstand with father’s hat still hanging there. She caught sight of herself in the mirror and didn’t recognise herself either.

  While the bath was filled, Earnestine had, quite sensibly, washed standing up in an attempt to remove most of the stains. Three flannels lay in a heap, dirty and probably destined for the fire once they’d dried out. It was a hardship she endured in order to fully appreciate the hot bath.

  Quite soon, Earnestine was soaking in the family tin bath, it was hot, wonderful, frothy from various concoctions she’d dumped in, and she knocked back the brandy from the bottle. When she reached for a second swig, her hand clinked loudly against the bottle. Something black filled her hand.

  In sudden desperation, she cleaned, and the ruby shone in its silver setting once more. Not that she was bothered, of course; it was just a silly trinket forced on her by a foolish young man and actually quite ostentatious. Turned around on the third finger of her left hand, it looked more tasteful and like a wedding ring… No. Ridiculous.

  She put it back on the middle finger of her left hand, where it felt most comfortable. Wait… just because he’d put it on that finger didn’t mean she had agreed. There was no understanding between them.

  She took it off again and slid it over her index finger. There! No longer engaged, she was now looking for a husband. In fact, no she wasn’t. She wanted nothing to do with men, so she took the ring again and placed it around her little finger. Now she displayed to the world that she intended to die a maid. Unfortunately, the ring did not fit well upon that finger being too loose.

  Having tried every finger, she took it off for a fourth time to study it. The ruby was warm and red, which she supposed signified… absolutely not! She felt nothing for him and she ought to just give it back.

  She placed it carefully on the floor and then lay back to enjoy the warm water.

  What to do?

  That was the question…

  Dead, bodies, drowning!

  She spluttered to the surface and realised that, glorious though this was, she was in no fit state to stay in the bath. To have survived that perilous journey and then to drown i
n a bath would not do at all, so she got out. She started shivering: the cold, not anything to do with fear, of course, and the brandy on a very empty stomach made her light headed and woozy. She called for the maid to bring her something to eat and scoffed down a ham with pickle sandwich in her room. Her room! It was surreal to be back in Kensington as if… but things had happened, terrible things and there were worse things coming. There was an army hidden in London. There was not a moment to lose.

  But she was so tired and she ached, and the sheets were clean: forty winks perhaps.

  Earnestine did not fall asleep as soon as her head hit the proverbial pillow. Instead, she held onto the hard object she’d secreted under her pillow and she didn’t think of him at all – obviously – and quite soon she was fast asleep.

  Miss Georgina

  In the chapel’s antechamber the two sisters fussed over each other.

  “Do I look beautiful?” Georgina asked. She was very aware of Charlotte’s sudden examination.

  “Yes, you do and… I’m proud to be your Maid of Honour.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Are you nervous?”

  “Terrified.”

  Charlotte gripped her sister’s hand and squeezed: “You’ll be fine.”

  “Thank you,” she said, but it wasn’t enough. “Go and see.”

  Charlotte snuck off to look into the chapel, which gave Georgina another chance to check herself in the small mirror on the wall. Yes, she thought, trying to be objective and view herself as a stranger would for the first time: she had a trim figure, and her bustle gave her a shapely womanly figure, her dark hair in ringlets framed her round open face.

  “Gina!?”

  Georgina turned back, panicked: “What is it?”

  Charlotte’s face beamed and she was almost jumping up and down with excitement: “They’re all in uniform!”

  “And they ready for us?”

  Charlotte nodded.

  Georgina knew it was all too quick, too rushed and she was seized by a feeling of dread. This was a mistake: surely she knew that, and she so wanted Earnestine’s wise and forthright counsel. Should she? Shouldn’t she? Earnestine would have known at once. But then, of course, her very presence would have made it impossible.

  “Who are you marrying?” Charlotte asked.

  Georgina beamed, happy, feeling suddenly and utterly ready: “Arthur.”

  “Is he a good man?”

  “Oh yes.”

  “Then I approve.”

  “Thank you.”

  Charlotte turned her sister towards the door and gave her the tiniest of pushes.

  Georgina took her first step towards the threshold of a new life. The hush was almost overpowering and then the organ started up. She walked slowly, trying not to tremble. All the officers to her right looked so strong and upright as they stood to attention, whereas the left hand side was empty: all her relatives, the Kent Deering–Dolittles were in their own procession to the source of a river or like Earnestine… best not to think about that now.

  There was only Uncle Jeremiah, dear befuddled Uncle Jeremiah with his white sideburns and whiskers and his hair askew. He eased himself around, smiled up at her over his half–moon glasses and put his hands together in prayer and praise.

  ‘Oh, oh, Gina,’ he silently mouthed, utterly entranced.

  When Georgina reached the front she couldn’t see the empty pews. By then, she only had eyes for her Captain.

  The Chaplain spoke, a disembodied voice almost, as Georgina could only really see her veil and vague ghostly shadows beyond. Only Arthur was close enough to be real.

  “Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this Man and this Woman in holy Matrimony…”

  It’s really happening, Georgina thought.

  “…unadvisedly, lightly, or wantonly, to satisfy men’s carnal lusts and appetites, like brute beasts that have no understanding…”

  Georgina wondered about the words ‘wantonly’, ‘carnal’ and ‘lusts’.

  “First,” the Chaplain continued: “It was ordained for the procreation…”

  ‘Procreation’ was another such word.

  “Secondly, It was ordained for a remedy against sin, and to avoid fornication…”

  And ‘fornication’.

  “Thirdly…”

  It was all a whirl, passing too quickly!

  “…Therefore if any man can shew any just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter for ever hold his peace.”

  The silence was palpable, a heaviness that settled over everyone and for Georgina it went on for a geological age. Finally, the Chaplain looked down from his step, his face very serious.

  “I require and charge you both, as ye will answer at the dreadful day of judgement when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed, that if either of you know any impediment…”

  She wasn’t the eldest, she thought: it should have been Earnestine’s turn. It wasn’t fair! While she worried, the Chaplain turned to Arthur and asked him a lot of questions.

  “I will,” Arthur answered clearly.

  “Georgina Victoria Alexandrina Deering–Dolittle,” said the Chaplain, and it snapped her back into the present, “wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”

  Georgina couldn’t seem to get her throat to work.

  She felt Charlotte’s nudge from her left.

  “I will.”

  “Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?”

  There was another silence, this one filled with scrapes and shuffles.

  “My father is…” Georgina began, but she couldn’t think of the words.

  “I will,” Charlotte piped in.

  “Oh!” said the Chaplain, looking down his nose.

  “She is dressed for it,” said Caruthers and a titter went around the congregation. “Bloomerism clearly has its uses.”

  “Yes, yes, of course, why not,” said Georgina, all of a fluster. She put her right hand in Charlotte’s right hand, who passed it to the Chaplain, who placed it in turn into Arthur’s safekeeping, who had already promised to always keep her safe.

  Charlotte stepped back smartly and joined the ranks of soldiers as if she was some brand of junior rating.

  Facing each other, hand in hand with Georgina, Arthur repeated each phrase after the Chaplain as if somehow she was marrying both of them, and so, despite the repetition, Georgina didn’t follow any of the echoed words.

  Arthur let go.

  Georgina was confused and then realised that it was her turn to take his right hand in her right hand.

  “I, Georgina Victoria Alexandrina,” said the Chaplain.

  Funny, she thought, that he had the same name as she did.

  “I, Georgina Victoria Alexandrina,” he repeated.

  “I, Georgina Victoria Alexandrina,” she said, and then it all came tumbling out. All those peeks ahead in the prayer book during boring sermons and all the late night rehearsals that had taken place in her mind since before she could remember took over and the rush was exhilarating: “Yes… I take thee Arthur Philip Merryweather to my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I give thee my troth.”

  Arthur took his hand back and turned away from her.

  “Caruthers,” he murmured.

  “Ah,” said Caruthers, stepping smartly up: “Right you are.”

  Caruthers put their rings on the bible that the Chaplain held open. The Chaplain blessed it and handed it back to Arthur like a waiter delivering with a tray. Arthur took i
t, took her left hand and gently encircled her fourth finger. Her heart trembled as he did so.

  “With this ring–” the Chaplain said.

  “With this ring I thee wed,” Arthur began and then he too took over to speak it all as she had done, “with my body I thee worship, and with all my… worldly goods I thee endow.”

  The Chaplain took over: “In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen,”

  “Amen,” murmured with increasing volume around the chapel.

  “Let us pray,” said the Chaplain.

  Everyone knelt, although the happy couple struggled because of Georgina’s dress until Charlotte came to the rescue to straighten it out. By the time Georgina was settled, the Chaplain had finished the prayer.

  “Amen,” everyone said.

  “Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder,” he said, before standing tall and facing the whole congregation. “Forasmuch as Arthur Philip Merryweather and Georgina – excuse me – Georgina Victoria Alexandrina Deering–Dolittle have consented together in holy wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and this company, and thereto have given and pledged their troth either to other, and have declared the same by giving and receiving of a Ring, and by joining of hands; I pronounce that they be Man and Wife together, In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

  “Amen.”

  Charlotte came forward and lifted Georgina’s veil back. Magically colour came into the world for Georgina as the Chaplain spoke about life everlasting.

  “Amen.”

  “Psalm sixty seven: Deus Misereatur, God be merciful unto us.”

  Everyone stood, fumbled with their hymn books and sang: God be merciful unto us.

  After the standing, it was kneeling again as the Chaplain read from the Book of Common Prayer and the congregation gave the responses. Georgina and Arthur exchanged a smirk. She was happy, he was happy, so she was happy twice.

  “…by whose gracious gift mankind is increased: We beseech thee, assist with thy blessing these two persons, that they may both be fruitful in procreation of children…”

  That was a good idea, Georgina thought, children, although how precisely that worked she was unsure.

  Everyone said “Amen”, so Georgina did too, and then there was another “Amen”.