Read Online The Spook Who Spoke Again: A Flavia Albia Short Story by Lindsey Davis - Free Book Online
Authors: Lindsey Davis
Tags: Mystery & Crime
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cross-legged beside one of the props baskets. Then I waited. I am an extremely patient person.
‘You’re not in any danger,’ Dama said, after he had fiddled with the props for a while. Obviously I then knew I
was
in danger. That was a surprise.
He went on with what he was doing, though it looked as if he was drawing it out to avoid speaking. He had a huge cloth costume, like a gigantic circular sheet with holes for eyes, which I guessed was the ghost’s robe. Lots of plays contain a ghost though in the ones I have seen it never does much. People tell you that you will like the play because it is really exciting with a ghost, then it never is. They are just trying to persuade you to go to the play with them, so we can all be together as a family for once. It’s best to go. That keeps them happy and they will hand around a lot of sweets.
The ghost’s eye holes had grown tattered so Dama was sewing around them neatly. He had a basket of stuff for mending jobs, with glue pots, shears, hammers, thread and different kinds of wire and string. I would have liked to investigate these things, but decided not to. Or not while Dama was watching.
He put the costume material over his own head to try it out; most people would have made woo-woo noises and waved their arms spookily but Dama didn’t bother. He must be a man of the world. Anyway, I had the impression he didn’t believe in ghosts.
I had waited this long time, because I could tell he was not a bad man, but one who wished me well. So I asked in a little voice, ‘Who doesn’t like me, Dama?’
Finally Dama gave me a straight look. ‘I can’t comment on who likes you or doesn’t like you, Postumus, but you need to be aware of your position, boy.’
‘What position, Dama?’
‘With the other company. You are Thalia’s lad. They have been an established performing group for two decades. Everyone thought they were a communal troupe, each with joint interests. Shared fates and shared fortunes. But now suddenly you arrive. Some people are bound to suspect that Thalia brought you in to be the heir.’
Did that mean I would own the menagerie and the tents, and I could give orders to the acrobats?
‘I am only twelve.’ I didn’t confuse him by mentioning Helena’s theory that I might be eleven.
‘Well, you’re twelve now,’ Dama told me in a dark voice. ‘You will grow. Some people might not want to stick around to watch.’
‘What do they think is going to happen, Dama?’
‘What always bloody happens – injustice and ingratitude!’
‘Oh will that happen in the theatre group as well?
‘Who knows? It doesn’t bother me. I can always go home to the hills and keep pigs in my old age. That’s assuming I can stand the rural life and my foolish bloody relatives.’ He had thin grey hair, a beaten-up manner and he looked quite old already.
‘So,’ I asked carefully, ‘do you think the acrobats believe I am a threat to them?’
‘Well, they are all mad buggers. Some of them can’t think. Even the ones that can do seem to leave their brains behind when they put on rosin and take hold of a balance pole. The animal trainers are the worst misfits in the universe – and I say that after working with bloody actors. But look closely, Postumus, and you may catch a tiny whiff of discontent about how you popped up as Thalia’s pride and joy. Word has already run around about you reorganising the gate money at the zoo like some little eastern king in a turban. It would hardly be surprising if there are those are around here who are worried. They could well be hoping to get rid of you.’
‘So what do I need to do about it, Dama?’
‘Keep your head down and try to stop annoying people.’
I promised him I would stop being annoying. It was easy. People are always making me say that.
9
I am brave. I was not worried. If any of the animal-keepers or acrobats were coming after me because I was the unwanted heir, I would thwart them with my cunning.
‘You’re not in any danger,’ Dama said, after he had fiddled with the props for a while. Obviously I then knew I
was
in danger. That was a surprise.
He went on with what he was doing, though it looked as if he was drawing it out to avoid speaking. He had a huge cloth costume, like a gigantic circular sheet with holes for eyes, which I guessed was the ghost’s robe. Lots of plays contain a ghost though in the ones I have seen it never does much. People tell you that you will like the play because it is really exciting with a ghost, then it never is. They are just trying to persuade you to go to the play with them, so we can all be together as a family for once. It’s best to go. That keeps them happy and they will hand around a lot of sweets.
The ghost’s eye holes had grown tattered so Dama was sewing around them neatly. He had a basket of stuff for mending jobs, with glue pots, shears, hammers, thread and different kinds of wire and string. I would have liked to investigate these things, but decided not to. Or not while Dama was watching.
He put the costume material over his own head to try it out; most people would have made woo-woo noises and waved their arms spookily but Dama didn’t bother. He must be a man of the world. Anyway, I had the impression he didn’t believe in ghosts.
I had waited this long time, because I could tell he was not a bad man, but one who wished me well. So I asked in a little voice, ‘Who doesn’t like me, Dama?’
Finally Dama gave me a straight look. ‘I can’t comment on who likes you or doesn’t like you, Postumus, but you need to be aware of your position, boy.’
‘What position, Dama?’
‘With the other company. You are Thalia’s lad. They have been an established performing group for two decades. Everyone thought they were a communal troupe, each with joint interests. Shared fates and shared fortunes. But now suddenly you arrive. Some people are bound to suspect that Thalia brought you in to be the heir.’
Did that mean I would own the menagerie and the tents, and I could give orders to the acrobats?
‘I am only twelve.’ I didn’t confuse him by mentioning Helena’s theory that I might be eleven.
‘Well, you’re twelve now,’ Dama told me in a dark voice. ‘You will grow. Some people might not want to stick around to watch.’
‘What do they think is going to happen, Dama?’
‘What always bloody happens – injustice and ingratitude!’
‘Oh will that happen in the theatre group as well?
‘Who knows? It doesn’t bother me. I can always go home to the hills and keep pigs in my old age. That’s assuming I can stand the rural life and my foolish bloody relatives.’ He had thin grey hair, a beaten-up manner and he looked quite old already.
‘So,’ I asked carefully, ‘do you think the acrobats believe I am a threat to them?’
‘Well, they are all mad buggers. Some of them can’t think. Even the ones that can do seem to leave their brains behind when they put on rosin and take hold of a balance pole. The animal trainers are the worst misfits in the universe – and I say that after working with bloody actors. But look closely, Postumus, and you may catch a tiny whiff of discontent about how you popped up as Thalia’s pride and joy. Word has already run around about you reorganising the gate money at the zoo like some little eastern king in a turban. It would hardly be surprising if there are those are around here who are worried. They could well be hoping to get rid of you.’
‘So what do I need to do about it, Dama?’
‘Keep your head down and try to stop annoying people.’
I promised him I would stop being annoying. It was easy. People are always making me say that.
9
I am brave. I was not worried. If any of the animal-keepers or acrobats were coming after me because I was the unwanted heir, I would thwart them with my cunning.
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