because Rinaldi would know what was to be found down there, but also because Toby always found the underground rooms uncomfortably sinister. He knew, logically, that it was simply that the rooms were dark and dismal and had shadowy corners and odd echoes, but he could never rid himself of the feeling that something menacing stood unseen in the shadows, watching him.
He had been an inquisitive five year old when he first came down here, wanting to explore everywhere about this marvellous place where his mamma somehow belonged and where nothing was quite what it seemedâwhere people changed themselves into all kinds of exciting beings purely by painting their faces, or playing music, or by standing in a coloured ray of light like the snipped-off piece of a rainbow. In those days he thought the Tarleton was filled with magicâhe still thought it now he was grown up, but it was a different kind of magic. But he clearly remembered how he had found the heavy old door at the head of the steps and had gone down them without anyone realizing. At first it had been spookily dark, but Mr Shilling who watched the door for people coming in and out and gave out letters to them, had lit a box lantern inside his own room on account of it being a dark January day. Toby was not really supposed to touch anything to do with burning candles and he was probably not supposed to borrow Mr Shillingâs lantern either, but Mr Shilling was not in his room to ask permission, and Toby thought if he was very careful and very quickâ¦
Going down the steps was like going down into a magic cave. He had been taken to see Aladdin at Drury Lane at Christmas so he knew about caves that were filled with treasure and it was all very exciting. But the flickering lantern light, instead of making it exciting, made it frightening. Toby began not to like the huddled outlines of scenery and furniture, and he began to wish he had not come down here.
He was found some immeasurable time later, huddled in a corner, his fists crammed into his eyes to stop himself crying, shaking and white-faced. It was a bad old place, he said sobbingly when he was back upstairs and starting to feel safe again. A bad bad old place and he had not liked it one bit.
âItâs only because itâs dark and dusty,â said RinaldiâMr Rinaldi, Toby had called him in those days. âWeâll take a lot of lanterns down there one day, Master Toby, and light everywhere properly, then youâll see how itâs really a very interesting place.â
Toby had not wanted to go back into the cellar ever again, even if Mr Rinaldi took a hundred lanterns, but he said thank you very much and secretly hoped Mr Rinaldi would forget or not have time.
His mamma said afterwards, âBut Toby, darling, why on earth didnât you just run back up the stairs?â and Toby mumbled that he did not know, but he âspected he had got a bit lost. He never told his mother or anyone else that he had thought there was someone in the underground rooms with himâsomeone he could not see but whom he knew was there, like an invisible person in a story. Grown-ups did not believe in invisible people and they would probably pat him on the head and say he was imagining it. Toby did not think he had imagined it at all: he was as sure as sure that someone had been standing at the foot of the steps watching him, stopping him from going back up the steps.
CHAPTER SIX
T OBY DID NOT precisely forget his experience that day, but he managed to push it to the back of his mind. But something of it stayed with him, and even now, all these years later, he did not like going into the underground rooms.
But yesterday Rinaldi had trundled down there with him, pleased that he could help his beloved Mr Toby, talking about what they might find and happily identifying this bit of scenery or that bit of furniture, as they searched: âWe used that cottage flat for Jack and the Beanstalk in
He had been an inquisitive five year old when he first came down here, wanting to explore everywhere about this marvellous place where his mamma somehow belonged and where nothing was quite what it seemedâwhere people changed themselves into all kinds of exciting beings purely by painting their faces, or playing music, or by standing in a coloured ray of light like the snipped-off piece of a rainbow. In those days he thought the Tarleton was filled with magicâhe still thought it now he was grown up, but it was a different kind of magic. But he clearly remembered how he had found the heavy old door at the head of the steps and had gone down them without anyone realizing. At first it had been spookily dark, but Mr Shilling who watched the door for people coming in and out and gave out letters to them, had lit a box lantern inside his own room on account of it being a dark January day. Toby was not really supposed to touch anything to do with burning candles and he was probably not supposed to borrow Mr Shillingâs lantern either, but Mr Shilling was not in his room to ask permission, and Toby thought if he was very careful and very quickâ¦
Going down the steps was like going down into a magic cave. He had been taken to see Aladdin at Drury Lane at Christmas so he knew about caves that were filled with treasure and it was all very exciting. But the flickering lantern light, instead of making it exciting, made it frightening. Toby began not to like the huddled outlines of scenery and furniture, and he began to wish he had not come down here.
He was found some immeasurable time later, huddled in a corner, his fists crammed into his eyes to stop himself crying, shaking and white-faced. It was a bad old place, he said sobbingly when he was back upstairs and starting to feel safe again. A bad bad old place and he had not liked it one bit.
âItâs only because itâs dark and dusty,â said RinaldiâMr Rinaldi, Toby had called him in those days. âWeâll take a lot of lanterns down there one day, Master Toby, and light everywhere properly, then youâll see how itâs really a very interesting place.â
Toby had not wanted to go back into the cellar ever again, even if Mr Rinaldi took a hundred lanterns, but he said thank you very much and secretly hoped Mr Rinaldi would forget or not have time.
His mamma said afterwards, âBut Toby, darling, why on earth didnât you just run back up the stairs?â and Toby mumbled that he did not know, but he âspected he had got a bit lost. He never told his mother or anyone else that he had thought there was someone in the underground rooms with himâsomeone he could not see but whom he knew was there, like an invisible person in a story. Grown-ups did not believe in invisible people and they would probably pat him on the head and say he was imagining it. Toby did not think he had imagined it at all: he was as sure as sure that someone had been standing at the foot of the steps watching him, stopping him from going back up the steps.
CHAPTER SIX
T OBY DID NOT precisely forget his experience that day, but he managed to push it to the back of his mind. But something of it stayed with him, and even now, all these years later, he did not like going into the underground rooms.
But yesterday Rinaldi had trundled down there with him, pleased that he could help his beloved Mr Toby, talking about what they might find and happily identifying this bit of scenery or that bit of furniture, as they searched: âWe used that cottage flat for Jack and the Beanstalk in
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