Goth Girl and the Sinister Symphony
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hermits laughed even louder. The Ladies of G.A.G.G.A. tutted at their childishness. ‘What about you, Miss Extremely-Swift?’ Simon Scowl called from the wagon. ‘I think,’ said Tailor, gazing at Lord Goth, ‘that I might have other plans.’ ‘I think so too,’ said Lord Goth, with a dazzling smile. ‘Come along, ladies,’ said Lady Carole, noticing the look passing between her son and Miss Extremely-Swift. ‘Let’s take advantage of this beautiful evening with a stroll.’ Sparkling Lady Carole and her ladies headed off across the park with the composers. It was a beautiful midsummer’s night and they walked in pairs – Felix Meddlesome and Miss Highland Spring chatting about the Hebrides, Franz Sherbert and Mademoiselle Badoit laughing about losing their spectacles, and Ludwig van Beetlebrow and Miss Malvern staring intensely
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into each other’s eyes. Joseph Hadyn-Seek and Lady Carole, meanwhile, were getting on famously, talking about Hungarian spring water, which neither of them liked. Even the hermits and the Ladies of G.A.G.G.A. seemed to be getting on well, and were discussing plans for a joint tour. ‘I think this could be the start of a beautiful friendship,’ said Cordelia Coppice, placing a garland on Kenneth Mintcake’s head. The other ladies agreed, and Clara Clip-Clop even gave Thomas Chatterbox and Rowley the Monk a ride on her back as they all returned to the lake of extremely coy carp. The other festival-goers were making their way to the camp ground, singing and laughing and chatting about the music they’d heard. Maltravers sloped off, smiling, and patting his pocket where, Ada suspected, he had the money Lord Goth had given him to hire the best orchestra he could find.
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Lord Goth didn’t seem to mind either way. He was standing on the empty bandstand with Tailor Extremely-Swift. They were holding hands. Ada felt a hand take hers. Looking down, she saw Shaun the Faun looking up at her. ‘I think that went rather well,’ he said. Emily and Sir Sydney Harbour-Bridge were walking back to the house, discussing watercolours, while William was playing with Alsatian and following on behind. Arthur and Ruby were going back to the east wing together and Kingsley was walking with them. Ada ran and caught up with him, Shaun by her side. ‘Kingsley,’ she said, ‘remember that room with the wardrobe in the broken wing? Can you show me exactly where it is?’
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Epilogue da walked up the grand staircase of Ghastly-Gorm Hall, past the portraits of the Lord and Lady Goths. It had been almost a year since the Gothstock festival and so much had happened. Maltravers the indoor gamekeeper and outdoor butler had decided to retire and move to Bath to take the waters. He seemed to have saved up an awful lot of money from all the schemes he hadn’t told Lord Goth about, but, despite that, Ada’s father had seemed sorry to see him go. Ada wasn’t sorry. She was delighted, because Kingsley had been promoted and was now the youngest indoor gamekeeper and outdoor butler Ghastly-Gorm Hall had ever known. Ruby had also been promoted and was now Mrs Beat’em’s assistant cook. She was much
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kinder to the kitchen maids than Mrs Beat’em, and the food at Ghastly-Gorm Hall had improved as a result. Arthur Halford had also worked hard, and had been studying the garden designs of Metaphorical Smith the famous landscape architect. Together with his fellow hobby-horse grooms, they had got Lord Goth’s permission to reinstate the rose garden in the middle of Metaphorical Smith’s hobby-horse racecourse. It had been a special surprise for Sparkling Lady Carole when she had come to visit that spring. Lady Carole hadn’t brought any fashionable ladies because she hadn’t needed to. Ada stopped by the portrait of her grandmother and looked up at it. Emily and Ada had had a good year at school and had told Jane Ear all about Miss Extremely-Swift and the music festival. Ada climbed the stairs and looked up at the newest painting on the grand staircase. She
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smiled. It was by Sir Sydney Harbour-Bridge and it was beautiful. It was a family portrait. Her family. The End