Julius and the Soulcatcher (16 page)

Saturday 20th January 1838

2:43 PM

Emily held her face to the breeze and closed her eyes to feel the sun on her eyelids. She was dressed in the same style as the people they had passed—yellow and white stripes with wide skirts and white petticoats. Perched on her head was a wide-brimmed sun hat with a yellow ribbon hanging down the back. Her hair hung loose over her shoulders, and her pale skin had a light summer tan.

She looked down at her new dress and her hands smoothed out the folds as if she was trying to believe it was real.

Julius was wearing a summer suit of pale green with dark green pinstripes. Under his chin was a canary-yellow cravat.

‘Don't we look a picture?' said Emily.

She noticed her refection in the workshop window and flicked her hair over her shoulder. The toymaker saw her and waved. Emily waved back.

‘They can see us, 'iggins,' she said.

Julius was already at the door. He slipped inside.

‘Young Caesar!' exclaimed his grandfather, spilling tea on his waistcoat. ‘What in Heaven's name is going on?'

‘Hello. Welcome,' said the man at the workbench.

He looked to be about the same age as Julius's grandfather. His head was completely bald but for a few wild strands of white hair sprouting from behind his ears. His blue eyes were magnified by thick lenses in silver-rimmed spectacles.

The toyshop smelled of sawdust and creosote. The walls were lined with shelves of clockwork toys. And an untidy array of clock parts, tiny pots of paint, tools and notebooks lay scattered across the workbench. A wisp of steam rose from the spout of the kettle on a stove in the middle of the room.

‘Please, take your time,' said the old man. ‘Only the finest automatons, all good little machines. So lifelike you could almost forget to wind them. All made on the premises.'

Emily whistled her approval. Mr Higgins tried to mop up the spilt tea with his handkerchief.

‘Do you 'ave any clockwork ponies, sir?' asked
Emily. ‘I'm partial to a pony.'

The man put a finger to his lips to help him think as he ran his eyes along the shelves. ‘I don't think I do,' he said.

‘Well, thank you for the tea, sir. Most obliged,' said Mr Higgins.

He got up, looking for a space to put his cup and saucer down. In the end he handed them to the toymaker.

‘Do come again, sir,' said the man. ‘We could talk more of cog ratios, my favourite subject.'

‘Yes quite,' said Mr Higgins. He turned to Julius. ‘Young Caesar, let's be off.' He strode past Emily and out of the shop as if she was not there.

‘I'll be back about the pony,' said Emily.

Julius and Emily looked at each other and then ran to catch up with Mr Higgins as he hurried along the promenade. He was mumbling to himself and polishing his spectacles with his handkerchief.

‘Are you all right, Grandfather?' said Julius.

‘No. I'm not. And what is that child doing here? I specifically banished her from the shop.'

‘We're not in your poxy—I mean, I'm not in your lovely shop,' said Emily.

Mr Higgins adjusted his spectacles on the end of his nose as he hastened along. ‘I think I might have had a turn, young Caesar. It happened to your great-uncle Ned, you know.'

‘What are you talking about, Grandfather? What happened?'

‘Nothing happened, I imagined it all.'

‘Imagined wot?' said Emily.

‘All
this
,' he replied and waved his handkerchief about. ‘Oh, my poor heart. It's…it's overwork, and too much butter, that's what it is.'

‘How did you get here?' said Julius.

‘Here? But I'm not
here
. I'm at home in front of the fire, sound asleep. Oh, wake up, wake up, you old fool.' Mr Higgins punched his sides.

‘Grandfather, wait. Did Mr Tock visit you?' said Julius.

Mr Higgins stopped. He looked into Julius's eyes. ‘What do you know of Tock?'

‘He left a calling card.'

‘I threw that in the coal bucket. The man's a scoundrel.' Mr Higgins stared out across the sea. ‘He came to the shop again, all sugar and syrup, he was. He apologised for the previous “misunderstanding”. Said he wanted to know how his gift was faring. Wanted to know if I'd watered it and kept it warm. I told him I gave the dratted thing away. Then I told the fellow to leave. He must have mesmerised me.'

‘What happened then?' said Julius.

‘I imagined we walked through the wall of the parlour. Mr Higgins stared into the distance as if reliving the experience. ‘He had a box of glass vials. He broke
one of them against the wall and it hissed like acid. It must have been some sort of narcotic. That's it. I've read about that sort of thing.'

‘Wot happened then?' said Emily.

‘The fellow took my arm and it felt as if we stepped right
through
the wall into this…this seaside dream. The fellow said that I should stay here. I told him I had a business to run…I…I had deliveries, orders to fill. But he laughed. And he disappeared through the wall and left me here.'

Mr Higgins hurried away. He removed his spectacles and polished them again. Suddenly, he stopped.

‘What day is it?'

‘Saturday,' said Julius.

‘Good gracious, I must wake up. I should be in the shop. What will my customers think?'

‘It's all right, Grandfather. I dealt with the morning rush,' said Julius.

‘Did you? I knew you were a good boy, Julius. Even if it's just a dream.' Mr Higgins smiled for the first time. ‘The nice gentleman in the toyshop offered me a cup of tea. Under the circumstances I accepted his offer. Tea can be very restorative when there is no brandy to be had.'

They stopped at the spot where Julius and Emily had entered the realm.

‘You think that pocketwatch can get us back, then, 'iggins?' said Emily.

‘What is that appalling child talking about?' said Mr Higgins.

‘Don't get vexed, Mr 'iggins, I'm only trying to 'elp.'

‘It's difficult to explain, Grandfather,' said Julius. He spun the pocketwatch in the air. ‘You'll have to trust me.'

‘Trust you?'

‘Steady on, Mr 'iggins. It ain't good for a man of your years to get too excited,' said Emily, and she patted the old man's arm.

Mr Higgins glared at her. ‘That's it. I'm fetching a constable.' He looked around anxiously.

Julius tapped the pocketwatch. It opened out and the cogs spun.

‘Hold my hand, Grandfather. We're going back to the parlour,' said Julius.

‘No we're not,' said Mr Higgins. ‘What nonsense.'

He began to stride away in search of a constable. Emily jumped into his path. ‘Oh. Beg pardon, Mr 'iggins,' she said.

‘Get out of me way this instant,' said Mr Higgins. He ripped his spectacles from his nose and began to polish them again as if his life depended on it.

Julius placed the tip of his finger against the side of the pocketwatch and took his grandfather's hand.

‘Take my 'and too, Mr 'iggins,' said Emily.

Mr Higgins did not notice her hand slipping into his as he stared, dumbfounded, at the pocketwatch
bobbing in the air. Emily and Julius led him in a clumsy dance to turn back to face the wall.

Julius felt the vibrations coursing through his body.

‘Good Heavens,' said Mr Higgins. ‘I'm having palpitations.'

‘I bleeding 'ope not,' said Emily.

‘What did you say?'

‘Naffing…Oh, look.'

Blue light shone out from the pocketwatch. It grew to form a dome over the three of them.

‘Good gracious,' said Mr Higgins, as a ghost-like image of their parlour appeared before them.

‘Time to wake up, Mr 'iggins,' said Emily and she led the old bookseller through the gossamer wall into the parlour.

When they were all inside Julius tapped the pocketwatch and the blue glow disappeared. It closed up and fell into his open palm.

The parlour was dark and cold. They were in their London clothes again.

‘Great Heavens above,' said Mr Higgins, as he stumbled into his chair. He stared at the fire. It had all but gone out. The travel between realms had rendered him speechless.

‘I'll see to the fire,' said Julius.

‘Yes. Very good,' said Mr Higgins, as if in a trance.

Julius removed the guard and snapped some kindling. ‘I'll make us some tea as well.'

‘Tea, be damned,' said Mr Higgins.

He staggered to the cabinet, poured himself a large brandy and drank it down in one.

‘Ahhh. That's better,' he said. He poured another and returned to his chair, cradling his glass. He took out his watch and squinted through the gloom to compare its time with the clock on the mantel.

‘It's well past five o'clock, young Caesar. I must have slept all afternoon.'

‘Yes, Grandfather,' said Julius. ‘You probably did.'

‘Did you say something about working in the shop this morning?' said Mr Higgins.

‘You weren't well. You slept here by the fire.'

‘Yes, of course, now I recall. I dreamt about…Oh, never mind.'

Mr Higgins settled back into his chair. Then he noticed Emily. ‘Julius, what is that appalling child doing here. I told her never to set foot in the shop again.'

‘She was helping me.'

Emily smiled sweetly, as if she were one of the better behaved angels in one of the more refined regions of Heaven.

Mr Higgins was not convinced. ‘Did Mr Trollop come for his order?'

‘Yes.'

‘And that scoundrel, Thackeray?'

‘Yes,' said Julius.

Mr Higgins looked at the growing fire with satisfaction. ‘You're a good boy, Julius.'

He took a sip of his brandy and let out a long tired sigh. Then he noticed the tea stain on his waistcoat. Julius watched his grandfather's face as he tried to make sense of a stain appearing in the real world when the spill had occurred in his dream.

‘Grandfather,' he said. ‘I wanted to ask you something.'

‘Yes,' said Mr Higgins, as he touched the stain with the tip of his finger.

‘About my mother…'

Mr Higgins looked up. ‘I beg your pardon?'

‘I want to know what happened to her. What was her name?'

Mr Higgins drank the last of his brandy and went and poured another. ‘Did Mr Gissing come in?' he said. ‘I got his damned poetry book.'

‘Did you hear what I said, Grandfather?'

Mr Higgins swirled the brandy in the glass. Julius waited.

‘She's gone,' said Mr Higgins.

‘Dead?'

‘No. Not dead.
Gone
.'

‘Was her name Clara?'

Mr Higgins winced.

It was Clara, Higgins.

‘Where did she go?' said Julius.

‘How the blazes should I know?'

‘Why did she leave?'

‘Did young Mr Dickens come in? You didn't give him credit did you?'

‘Please, tell me.'

‘There's nothing to tell. She was here and now she's not. She's gone.' Mr Higgins swallowed the brandy in one gulp.

‘Why did she leave?'

The words made his grandfather jump and stare. Julius and his grandfather glared at each other. Then Mr Higgins spoke. His words were slow and measured, as if Julius was a disobedient dog.

‘Julius. There is nothing to be gained by—'

‘Please, tell me, Grandfather. I only—'

‘Be quiet,' shouted Mr Higgins. ‘I will not be harangued like a common criminal in my own home.' He appeared to be frightened by his own outburst. He looked at his glass, contrite, but still angry. ‘Your mama was a disgrace to her family,' he said, quieter this time. ‘It is best for all concerned that she is gone.'

Mr Higgins seemed to shrink, folding in on himself. ‘And now,' he said, ‘I would rather be alone. Perhaps you could walk that child home and see that she does not return.' The words were slow and carefully pronounced. The conversation was at an end.

Emily sat on the edge of a chair, as still as a stuffed bird.

Julius buttoned his coat and made for the door. Emily jumped up to follow. But Julius lingered, wanting a final word from his grandfather.

With exaggerated deliberation, Mr Higgins poured himself another glass, and walked back to his chair. He sniffed as if to show that he had finished with a tiresome topic. He turned away to face the fire, and let out a long sigh. Julius pulled the curtain aside and went into the cold, dark shop, fumbling for his key. Emily followed him.

On the floor in front of the door a pale rectangle caught his eye and he stooped to pick it up. It was a note, with his name written across it in pencil. It was too dark to read in the shop and, in any case, he wanted to be out of there. And he did not want to return.

He rattled the key in the lock and opened the door. At the end of Ironmonger Lane he opened the note.

Julius felt an icy shiver run through him.

Skinner? What's he doing here, Higgins?

He looked around for Emily. She was standing some distance away, waiting. He put Mr Flynn's note into his pocket.

‘Who's it from, 'iggins?' she asked.

‘Mr Flynn. He's going to Bedlam tonight to see Mr Darwin.'

‘Ace. We'll go too. I've always wanted to meet a proper lunatic.'

‘Darwin was raving about Skinner being in London,' said Julius.