by Holly Bell
‘Yes, Elodie told me ….’
***
‘I had been able to gather from office chat,’ she explained, ‘that tension was building between Growan House and those names that kept coming up. Perhaps it was only a matter of time before something was going to give. In many respects, we were lucky. There were just four of us — students — staying in the house that night.’
‘Can you tell me anything about them, Elodie?’ Hogarth requested.
‘Roger — he was twelve — he was walking nearly normally. Shilpa’s skin was nearly all cleared up — she was ten — and Mimi had almost stopped coughing. She was just seven years old.’
‘So, what happened?’
‘There was a storm. No rain, though. It was also a dark moon night. It made sense that if an attack was coming, it would come then. It was also the night the boats came. On dark moons, one or two of the boats would call in, just in case anyone had to get out without notice.’
‘Get out to ...?’
‘Away to France. As I told you, I think they would take the children, and sometimes their families too, along the coast. Then back across into the UK far down the Channel beyond the Cornish border. But for me, it would be different .... Yes ... that night ... lucky.’ She looked out of the window as though drawn back to the past in thought.
‘When did you first know something was wrong that night?’ Hogarth prompted gently.
Elodie returned her attention to him.
‘I must have slept through the first of the thunder. I was woken up by — I don’t know — a feeling. I looked out of the window. I had a sense of people in the shadows. Then there was a bang then more bangs, and feet on the stairs, and shouts. I got dressed and tried to see what was going on in the passage. People were hurrying past the door. ‘Go back inside your room!’ one of the teachers yelled.
But it was getting warmer. I could hear crackles and pops. The ceiling was going brown. I checked the hall again. It was clear, so I ran into Roger’s room. I woke him.
“There’s trouble,’ I warned and threw him his clothes. He could hear the same things I did and got dressed, while I hurried into Shilpa’s and got her up, then went to Mimi. Roger joined us. By then, shots and bangs and crackles seemed to be all around us.’
‘Where were you?’
‘All in Mimi’s room. I looked out into the hall, and the stairs above were on fire. Out of the window, we saw balls of flame whizzing up past us to the upper windows. There was the sound of breaking glass. Nowhere seemed safe and there was noise coming from below, but the way up was blocked: we could only go down.’
‘What was going on?’
‘There were people shooting coloured sort of flames out of sticks — wands.’
‘Can you describe the people?’
‘I remember there was a woman in black, and a woman with long, wavy, brown hair and an older woman in black and a man, maybe two. The others were Dowrkampyers. The fight below broke into two, and the people went out of the side doors, maybe the front door, leaving the hall empty. I thought we could maybe get out through the kitchens. At least the landing was clear, so I ran down ahead, and onto the last flight of stairs. Suddenly I heard Mordren Dowrkampyer came out of his room on the landing. I turned. He was feet away from me. He didn’t see the children at first, because fire had just broken through the corner of the ceiling above to his left. He looked up at it. Then he stared right past me, below, from where we heard a sizzle and the sound of something falling on the stairs behind. I gestured to the children to go back up, but he saw them. He knew they’d seen what was going on.
‘Stop!’ he shouted, ‘You’re not going anywhere!’
Then someone fired at him and he … sort of disintegrated, and we all ran down,’ Elodie finished.
‘I led the children to the side door where I knew George kept a van key. I grabbed it, and we made a run for it. The house was collapsing, people were running, shouting, sirens. We got into the van. We were challenged but no one caught us, and I just drove over the field, through the south gate, around the lake and down onto the road to the coast.’
‘Did you all go on the boats?’ enquired Hogarth.
‘No, Shilpa knew the way to Mimi’s house, so I said to Roger,
“Can I drop you off at the shore? Find the boat — the Annalise — the skipper is Emile. Tell him, please to wait. I must take Mimi and Shilpa home.”
Roger said, “Sure. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. I’ll get away. Even if my parents won’t take me, my brother will.”
‘It was clear that the parents had been expecting trouble, what with the accidents and illnesses. Mimi’s mother accepted my rushed explanation.
“Right,” she said to her husband, “You’re taking that job in Edinburgh. I don’t want no more of this posh school lark. We’re good enough as we are,” and he agreed.
‘Shilpa’s father said, “I’m taking her to her aunt in Leicester.”
I remember her mother saying, ‘What about work in the morning?” but he said, “It’s all right. It’s my business. If I want to take a day off, I can.”
‘So, once I knew the three of them would be safe, I drove as close to the beach as I dared, then went on foot. It was dark, but I ran toward Emile’s voice, calling as loudly as he dared:
“Vite! Vite, Lucille!”
‘When I reached him, he picked me up so I wouldn’t get my feet wet, bless him. He said, “Lucille, go below.” And put a finger to his lips. I nodded. First though, I took a final look at the lights of Parhayle and the shores of my homeland that were soon lost in the night.’
***
‘How dreadful,’ Amanda exclaimed. ‘But I don’t understand. How could she have been able to drive? Did this just happen to Elodie? I know she speaks for the family but … what about Lucy? Lucille? Is Elodie Lucy? And the others? Peter and so on?’
‘You haven’t worked it out yet?’ asked Hogarth, with a hint of amusement.
‘Can you give us a clue?’ asked Trelawney.
‘It’s something you, Amanda, should be able to work out.’
She frowned. ‘More than the inspector?’
‘Yes.’
Amanda pondered then hazarded,
‘Is it because I was brought up as a witch?’
Hogarth folded his arms and answered, ‘No.’
‘Because I was educated at home?’
‘No.’
‘Is it —?’ began Trelawney.
‘You’ve had three questions,’ pronounced Hogarth. ‘That’s your lot.’
‘All right, Uncle Mike. But look, on another topic, it had to have been the Cardiubarns who attacked, don’t you think?’
‘Or the Flamgoynes,’ countered Trelawney, ‘People in black with wands. Or both clans.’
‘Whoever it was must have stolen that grimoire,’ Amanda insisted. ‘I mean the similarities are just too many – grimoire, cauldron, jars, coloured smoke – it has to be the same grimoire. And in all that nasty research, they must have figured out an actual asthma spell.’
‘Or what they gave you wasn’t an asthma spell at all,’ suggested Trelawney. ‘What if it was a spell for something else that they knew could go wrong in more than one way, but that could, maybe most likely, cause asthma.’
‘But whatever the effect, I’d be miles away when the Grim Reaper called.’ she concluded with rancour.
‘Yes.’
‘So, let’s say the Cardiubarns made off with the spellbook that night. How did they get it away without the Flamgoynes noticing? I’ll bet the Flamgoynes wanted it every bit as much. Or why attack?’
‘The Dowrkampyers were becoming too influential, perhaps?’ Trelawney suggested. ‘The Flamgoynes and Cardiubarns felt challenged.’
‘Granny did mention cold war truces between the two clans. Maybe they ganged up on the Dowrkampyers, and both hoped they’d get to the grimoire first.’
‘Anyway,’ interrupted Hogarth, ‘we’re almost at the end of my telling of th
e story.’
‘Awww,’ sighed Amanda.
‘I said my telling of the story,’ Hogarth returned.
‘Oh? Who is going to take over?’
‘You are, my dear niece,’ he said firmly.
Amanda looked at him in surprise.
‘Me? I don’t know anything about Lucy or Elodie or any of them, other than what you’ve told us,’ she protested.
‘We shall see. Until tomorrow, and the end of the line.’
Chapter 22
The End of the Line
The Old Sardine Factory was the destination for the next day. Afterwards, Kyt also took Amanda into the town for tea. She could not resist keeping an eye out for the elderly gentleman and his daughter whom she had met in the Koffiji café, but was out of luck.
‘You know,’ said Amanda to Hogarth and Trelawney that evening, ‘I’d like to go and see all of these sights and attractions again, sometime when I’m not so distracted.’
‘No doubt, you shall,’ Hogarth assured her. This time he brought in a large bread and butter pudding with coconut cream and custard, as well as a pot of tea and hot water. ‘There, that should sustain you. Right. Elodie told me about how she reached the end of the line and beyond ....’
***
‘Sails raised,’ she said, ‘we slid silently out on the tide. They gave me a sip of rum, as the shock was beginning to register. Later, I felt seasick, and the pills for it made me sleep. But I had a nightmare. I was back on the stairs. Emile woke me, and I told him what happened. He was so sweet to me.
“You had to get the children out,” he said simply.
‘Yes,’ I repeated numbly. ‘I had to get the children out.’ Later I asked him, ‘When can I go back?’
“Ma petite, they saw you. They know you were there. They will never stop looking for you. They will never stop watching for your return.”
‘What will I do?’
“There is a family — they will look after you. I promise. They are very kind. They will take care of you.”
‘Then … goodbye, Lucy. I am Lucille.’
‘Eventually we reached St Malo, I think it was, on the Breton coast. We waited until dark before I could leave the boat and was taken to a car. Madame Verité took me home. I was with the Verités for a week, before news came that the Flamgoynes had picked up my trail. I was moved deeper into France and deeper still, until I was with the Charpentier family. And there I seemed to be beyond their reach. Asking too many questions, the Flamgoynes had come to the attention of the French authorities and withdrew.’
Elodie smiled tenderly, saying,
‘The family couldn’t have been more loving. They felt they had a special connection with Cornwall, or England at least. Part of the Charpentier tribe had gone over there during the French Revolution. Madame and Monsieur Charpentier had three lovely children. And I became the fourth: Lucille Charpentier. They got me proper papers. If asked, they said I was the daughter of a deceased cousin from Australia.’
‘Without the accent?’ asked Hogarth.
‘It’s not as easy to maintain as you might think!’ returned Elodie. ‘Soon, I got involved with family life. I was more than happy to help out in any way. I began painting wooden furniture and knick-knacks. It was fun and I took to it like a duck to water. They gave me my own little studio. Anything that needed painting or polishing, they gave to me. I liked to contribute but, actually, it was a relative of theirs, a Madame Charpentier of the Maison Chapeaux Charpentier, who paid for my upkeep.’
‘That’s wonderful to hear, Elodie. But how did you cope with what you’d been through all those years, and the way it ended?’
‘Well, I now had a good life. Except for the nightmares and the flashbacks. Then I began to be treated by a doctor. Madame paid for that too. In time, through Madame, I met Vera and Harry. The Charpentier family told them my story. Vee and Harry spent time with me, invited me to go back to Spain with them for holidays. Before I knew it, I was spending more time with them than in France. Vera taught me to use a camera, and I started painting artwork.’
‘Ah, so that’s where your talent started to really show itself.’
‘I suppose so. Vera and Harry offered to pay for my college education, studying art. Just to be on the safe side, I changed my name again, to Lucia Palomo.’
***
‘So Elodie is Lucy?’ interrupted Amanda. ‘But why not call herself Lucy — Lucia? It’s on the bell after all.’
Hogarth simply looked at her enigmatically until she calmed down, apologised, and asked him to carry on.
‘That’s quite alright, my dear. I have nearly finished for this evening. My sister and brother-in-law put their house extension on the back burner, and Lucy’s university fees were secured. She lived at college and spent the hols with Vee and Harry or with the Charpentiers. Vee and Harry also arranged for Lucy to continue treatment with a doctor they trusted. After fourteen years of therapy, Lucy was a resolved case. The doctor had died the previous year so was not readily available for an interview! Lucy’s father died of a heart attack, and the mother moved abroad on the strength of the life insurance money, thereby providing further closure. And that brought us up to the then present time. I said,
“Thank you for sharing your story with me. I cannot express my appreciation more deeply.”
At that, Zoe popped up.
“You can buy me an ice-cream.”
“I most certainly can and shall,’ I replied. Then Marielle spoke:
“But it isn’t really what you want to know, is it?”’
***
‘Yes, there we stop for tonight,’ Hogarth finished.
‘How exciting it all is,’ observed Amanda, ‘and how dreadful. Also, how wonderful to hear of so much kindness. Oh, but how about the family’s name? Charpentier! Carpenter and French ones too. That’s what the Cadabras were. What if we were “Charpentier” back then before we came to England?’
‘You never know,’ said Hogarth encouragingly.
Chapter 23
On the Stairs
However, the next evening when Trelawney came to collect her, Amanda was less enthused.
‘I got all excited when I heard about the Charpentiers, and how part of the family went to England during the Revolution. Then I ran the numbers. Charpentier is a very common name, like Carpenter is in the UK, and thousands of émigrés came to England at that time. Nothing special about any of it.’ She sighed. ‘Never mind. I’m still looking forward to the next instalment.’
Later, Amanda told Hogarth, who appeared to have stripped the carpet from the stairs, the same thing,
‘The name Charpentier seems to be a dead end. Never mind .... So, Marielle had just said that hearing their story isn’t what you really wanted to know. And you said ...?’
***
‘It isn’t, expressly, what brought me to your door,’ Hogarth admitted.
‘Of course, you want to know what happened on the night of the fire. How Mordren Dowrkampyer met his end.’
‘Yes, and the others who perished that night.’
‘I expect you would like to hear the account again,’ suggested Geoffrey calmly.
‘Perhaps a diagram might help,’ Peter offered, producing paper and pencils, and kneeling to draw at the coffee table.
‘Thank you, Peter,’ responded Hogarth.
‘All right.’ He cleared his throat. ‘This should make it plainer.’ He drew a rectangle. ‘So, fire above. People outside both of the sides of the building and maybe the front too — judging only by what we could hear, mind. So here, here and here,’ said Peter, drawing a few blue crosses to the top, left and right of the oblong.
‘Ok.’
‘The side doors’ — Peter added small arcs to the border — ‘were open, I think. We came down the stairs, here, from the second floor to the first floor.’ He added several parallel lines to the bottom right of the rectangle. ‘Then stopped and looked and the stairs were clear, so ran ahead to the next flight, but
the landing door here on the right opened and Dowrkampyer,’ — here Peter drew a red cross, — ‘came out onto the landing just here near the door. With me so far?’
‘Yes,’ Hogarth confirmed.
‘He looked up at the fire above and to his left, then down the last flight of stairs’ — another set of parallel lines was added —‘in this direction,’ Peter drew an arrow from the landing up the image into the hall. ‘There were sounds behind, in the hall and on the stairs: one or more people, then the sound of a sizzle and someone falling. Then Dowrkampyer spotted the children up on the flight above, pointed his wand at them, said something threatening but before he could do any damage, he, well ... exploded. Then we all ran down these stairs and out of this door here.’
‘So, you were on the stairs facing upwards when the whatever-it-was came from behind you? A projectile or something?’
‘Whatever saw him off could have come from any direction,’ Peter answered.
‘But when you turned to go, you didn’t see anyone in the hall?’ asked Hogarth.
‘There were people fighting on the ground floor, but back beyond the stairs towards the kitchens,’ Peter stated. ‘They may have seen us, I think, but were too occupied to pursue us.’
‘Could it have been one of them who loosed whatever killed Dowrkampyer?’
‘I suppose if they’d moved quickly enough,’ speculated Peter. ‘They could have then rejoined the fight further in. It was so chaotic.’ He shrugged helplessly. ‘It could have been anyone.’
‘And he disintegrated?’ pressed Hogarth.
‘Yes.’
‘After a blinding flash of light?’