the coin, spat on to the ground and, grumbling under his breath, moved off through the mist.
‘Unofficial he was guvn’or, for sure,’ said the cab driver, pocketing his fare and his own generous tip, while doffing his hat. ‘They’re the ones you want to watch out for when you’re out and about in the City,’ and he clicked his horse forward.
‘Unofficial,’ Lucius muttered, and he covered his eyes with his hands and stood silently for a moment as if transfixed to the spot. Caleb noticed that his father’s hand was trembling, like someone suffering from stage fright. After a moment Lucius braced himself, stepped forward and banged on the front door of the house.
‘Mrs Bullock,’ said Lucius, doffing his hat and bowing slightly.
‘Why, yes, indeed, Mr Brown and son, is it not?’ said the pleasant elderly woman in a long brown dress who had opened the door. She stood aside and ushered them into the hallway. Lucius introduced Caleb, who tried an awkward, shallow bow himself, and smiled as best he could.
‘My,’ said Mrs Bullock, ‘what a handsome young man. You’d best watch out for all the young ladies with him, I think, Mr Brown.’
Caleb blushed and looked around at the busy decor of the hallway. The walls were patterned over with dark foliate wallpaper. Pictures in heavy frames hung on gold chains from the picture rail. A white marble bust of Queen Victoria stood on a marbled column beside a fancy hallstand stuffed with umbrellas. There was a smell here too – of lavender overlaid with boiled vegetables.
Mrs Bullock picked up two big cream official envelopes from the post table.
‘These were forwarded here and have been waiting for you,’ she said, ‘and there were two boxes delivered by Carter Patterson. Proper Corporation red wax seal on those envelopes, I noticed. You are clearly important men Mr Brown, Master Brown.’
‘Once upon a time perhaps,’ Lucius replied, tilting his head.
She nodded at them deferentially, while performing a sort of curtsy.
‘It’s not every day that I have an esteemed Buckland Corporation official to stay in my lodging house.’ She turned and flicked her feather duster over the ornaments above the umbrella stand.
‘Thank you for looking after everything so nicely, Mrs Bullock,’ Lucius said. ‘Now if you’ll excuse us, it’s been a tiring journey.’
‘Where are my manners!’ she said. ‘Your rooms are on the first floor at the front, straight up the stairs. I’ve lit a fire for you and there’s plenty of hot water. You won’t be disturbed.’
Lucius clicked the door shut behind him. He leaned against the tapestry draught curtain and closed his eyes. He stayed like that for a moment with the envelopes tight in his hand.
‘What are the letters?’ Caleb asked.
‘They’ll be our invitations, of course,’ Lucius said, going over to warm himself at the coal fire. ‘The big Halloween fancy dress party to be given by Abel Buckland himself, my old boss and the CEO of the Buckland Corporation, which is tomorrow night.’ Lucius proudly displayed the invitations. They had a giant engraved skull and crossbones on one side and the Pastworld logotype on the other. Lucius ran his finger over the engraving. The lines were proud of the surface, raised like a series of bumps.
‘Proper engraving you see,’ Lucius said before he placed them side by side on the overmantel. Then with his back half turned he took out another letter, but this time from his inner pocket. Caleb watched him open it and read it to himself. A curious expression passed across his father’s face in a split second; a pure and sudden wave of anguish. The expression passed quickly, but not quickly enough for Caleb not to notice it. He had caught sight of one word scrawled in big letters across the paper. He could make no sense of it. His father threw the screwed-up letter into the fire, and then he stood, with his head bowed, leaning on the mantel and watched the ball of paper
‘Unofficial he was guvn’or, for sure,’ said the cab driver, pocketing his fare and his own generous tip, while doffing his hat. ‘They’re the ones you want to watch out for when you’re out and about in the City,’ and he clicked his horse forward.
‘Unofficial,’ Lucius muttered, and he covered his eyes with his hands and stood silently for a moment as if transfixed to the spot. Caleb noticed that his father’s hand was trembling, like someone suffering from stage fright. After a moment Lucius braced himself, stepped forward and banged on the front door of the house.
‘Mrs Bullock,’ said Lucius, doffing his hat and bowing slightly.
‘Why, yes, indeed, Mr Brown and son, is it not?’ said the pleasant elderly woman in a long brown dress who had opened the door. She stood aside and ushered them into the hallway. Lucius introduced Caleb, who tried an awkward, shallow bow himself, and smiled as best he could.
‘My,’ said Mrs Bullock, ‘what a handsome young man. You’d best watch out for all the young ladies with him, I think, Mr Brown.’
Caleb blushed and looked around at the busy decor of the hallway. The walls were patterned over with dark foliate wallpaper. Pictures in heavy frames hung on gold chains from the picture rail. A white marble bust of Queen Victoria stood on a marbled column beside a fancy hallstand stuffed with umbrellas. There was a smell here too – of lavender overlaid with boiled vegetables.
Mrs Bullock picked up two big cream official envelopes from the post table.
‘These were forwarded here and have been waiting for you,’ she said, ‘and there were two boxes delivered by Carter Patterson. Proper Corporation red wax seal on those envelopes, I noticed. You are clearly important men Mr Brown, Master Brown.’
‘Once upon a time perhaps,’ Lucius replied, tilting his head.
She nodded at them deferentially, while performing a sort of curtsy.
‘It’s not every day that I have an esteemed Buckland Corporation official to stay in my lodging house.’ She turned and flicked her feather duster over the ornaments above the umbrella stand.
‘Thank you for looking after everything so nicely, Mrs Bullock,’ Lucius said. ‘Now if you’ll excuse us, it’s been a tiring journey.’
‘Where are my manners!’ she said. ‘Your rooms are on the first floor at the front, straight up the stairs. I’ve lit a fire for you and there’s plenty of hot water. You won’t be disturbed.’
Lucius clicked the door shut behind him. He leaned against the tapestry draught curtain and closed his eyes. He stayed like that for a moment with the envelopes tight in his hand.
‘What are the letters?’ Caleb asked.
‘They’ll be our invitations, of course,’ Lucius said, going over to warm himself at the coal fire. ‘The big Halloween fancy dress party to be given by Abel Buckland himself, my old boss and the CEO of the Buckland Corporation, which is tomorrow night.’ Lucius proudly displayed the invitations. They had a giant engraved skull and crossbones on one side and the Pastworld logotype on the other. Lucius ran his finger over the engraving. The lines were proud of the surface, raised like a series of bumps.
‘Proper engraving you see,’ Lucius said before he placed them side by side on the overmantel. Then with his back half turned he took out another letter, but this time from his inner pocket. Caleb watched him open it and read it to himself. A curious expression passed across his father’s face in a split second; a pure and sudden wave of anguish. The expression passed quickly, but not quickly enough for Caleb not to notice it. He had caught sight of one word scrawled in big letters across the paper. He could make no sense of it. His father threw the screwed-up letter into the fire, and then he stood, with his head bowed, leaning on the mantel and watched the ball of paper
Similar Books
