Julius and the Soulcatcher (18 page)

‘No family ties,' said Julius. ‘That's what the advertisement said.'

Clara stared at Julius, stunned. ‘I know, but…'

Her words died. He could see the realisation in her face. She had betrayed him a second time. The pain in her eyes pleased him.

Now she knows what it's like.

Julius began to rewind his scarf. Clara clasped her hands.

‘I'm going,' said Julius. It was barely a mumble.

‘But the milk?' said Emily.

Julius was already at the door. ‘I have to meet Mr Flynn at Bedlam.'

‘'ang on, 'iggins. I'm coming wiv you.'

‘I'm going by myself,' said Julius. The curtness in his voice stopped her dead.

‘Oi. Don't be like that,' she said.

Julius barely heard her. He ran from the kitchen, up the steps and into the freezing night.

He was out the gate and hurrying along St George's Road when he heard footsteps running to catch up. He thrust his hands deeper into his pockets and quickened his pace.

‘Go back,' said Julius.

‘But you might need me, 'iggins. You might—'

‘I won't need you and stop calling me “'iggins” like you were a costermonger's daughter. It's “Higgins” or “Julius”. You're getting an education, use it.'

‘Oi, don't speak to me like—'

Julius stopped abruptly under a gas lamp and faced her.

‘Go away. Go. Away,' he shouted. ‘You're not wanted.'

The gas light cast a pallor across Emily's face. Julius studied every feature, every contour and individual eyelash, waiting to see the pain fill her eyes when his words sunk in. She had a father in Mr Flynn and a mother more or less in Clara. She had got them so easily and she seemed to take them for granted.

He wanted to see her feel pain too.

But Emily was silent, her face devoid of expression. ‘Suit yourself,' she said, after a few moments. ‘See if I bleeding care.'

She studied his face with a contemptuous blankness. Julius's anger shrivelled and died. He swallowed. She smiled to herself and then walked back towards the gate.

‘Emily…Em—' he called out.

She kept walking.

‘Emily, come back.'

She went through the gate and Elliot's Row was silent again, empty.

‘See if I care,' he said, his anger reigniting.

At the end of the street he stopped. The things he had said to Emily stabbed at him. He closed his eyes and cursed himself.

‘She knows I didn't mean it,' he said. He clasped the pocketwatch for comfort.

You could time-jump far away, Higgins. And keep time-jumping until you find an empty land where there's no one to complicate things.

He walked on in a wretched haze until he came to iron gates guarding the grounds of the New Bethlam Hospital. All was dark, but for faint lights in many of the windows. The hospital was built of grey stone with wide columns and a dome at the centre. It reminded Julius of the dome of St Paul's. But this was not a cathedral; it was a place for lunatics. He went to the side gate and looked through.

He could keep walking until dawn, until he came to a valley with a stream running through it. He could hear the flowing water already. He could sleep on the bank.

The iron railing was cold against his cheek. He pressed against it even though it stung. Clara's face came to his mind again.

Something was wrong. He ran their conversation through his mind. What was all that about Grandfather not giving him to the parish or sending him to a boarding school? Clara was hiding something? He stared at the dark dome, as if the answer was there. The cold was forgotten. Neither she nor grandfather wanted him to know why she left. But why?

His words to Emily came back: ‘Go away. You're not wanted.'

Would Emily forgive him? He doubted it. He had stung her too deeply. Her blank face said so—it was a hundred times worse than tears or anger.

Julius banged his forehead against the rails to punish himself and to stop himself from crying.

The only one you've got left is Mr Flynn, Higgins.

He walked through the gates and up the gravel path until he came to a heavy, oak door. A bell-pull hung on the right side near a brass plaque. The gas lamp above the door gave out just enough light for Julius to read the words
New Bethlem Royal Hospital—Insane Asylum.

He pulled the handle to ring the bell. The sound frightened his anger away.

A large woman in a grey dress and a stiff white collar opened the door. Her sleeves were rolled up showing her muscular forearms. Her grey hair was pulled so tightly back into a bun that it looked as if it hurt. She ran her eyes from Julius's head to his toes and back up to his head again.

‘Yes? What would you be wanting at this late hour?' she said, pronouncing each word as if carving it from ice.

Julius swallowed. ‘Mr Darwin.'

The woman considered the matter. ‘Are you family of Mr Darwin?' she said.

‘No, a friend of Mr Flynn. Mr Flynn called to see him too. Constable Abberline arranged it,' said Julius,
trying to force some confidence into himself.

The woman looked at Julius as if she had not bothered to listen. ‘You are unwell?' she said. ‘A little anxious, perhaps?'

‘Yes. I haven't been to a place like this before. It's rather…er…'

‘Intimidating?' said the woman.

‘Yes. Intimidating.'

Julius's admission had a mollifying effect on the woman. Her face relaxed as if his fear satisfied her.

‘Your name?' she asked.

‘Julius Higgins.'

The woman considered it for a moment. ‘Mr Flynn is already here,' she said. ‘Come inside.'

The flames of the gas lights along the walls hissed and the odour of the burnt-off gas lingered like a taste at the back of Julius's throat. He followed the woman along the corridor. A scream rang out. The woman stopped and listened. When the scream ended she walked on.

Lunatics' faces, contorting in screams and crazed laughter, filled Julius's mind. The woman led to him to what looked like a waiting area—there were empty chairs and an oak-panelled counter. Mr Flynn was standing there.

‘Is this boy known to you, Mr Flynn?' said the woman, before anyone could speak.

‘Julius?' said Mr Flynn.

‘I got your note,' said Julius.

Mr Flynn nodded to the woman. ‘Aye, I know the lad,' he said.

This seemed to satisfy her. ‘You'll be pleased to take a seat,' she said and walked away along one of the corridors.

Mr Flynn took the jar containing the soulcatcher out of his pocket. ‘I brought this to show, Mr Darwin,' he said.

The soulcatcher's tendrils pressed against the glass, still looking for a way out.

Julius started. He remembered the jar Skinner held over Darwin. He clutched the pocketwatch.

‘Are you all right?' said Mr Flynn, putting the jar away again.

‘Yes.' Julius turned away, pretending to look around while he tried to compose himself. ‘It's an odd place,' he said.

‘I got here just ten minutes ago and I've got the collywobbles already,' said Mr Flynn. ‘I'll be glad to see the back of the place. If you're not mad when you arrive you soon will be.'

Julius forced an unconvincingly laugh.

‘Do you remember Skinner's name in Darwin's diary?' said Mr Flynn.

Julius turned to face him. ‘Skinner? No, I don't think so.'

Mr Flynn tried to make a reassuring expression.
‘We'll be out of here as soon as we can,' he said. ‘They told me Darwin's getting ready to leave. His doctor discharged him this afternoon, but Abberline asked him to wait for me to see him home.'

Julius was barely listening. His whole mind was on the warmth of the pocketwatch. It was calming him, clearing his mind.

You should tell him everything now, Higgins.

‘Mr Flynn—' he began.

A young man came towards them, pulling on his coat as he went.

Julius recognised the man immediately. It was Charles Darwin. His hair was a thinner and his face a little fuller, but it was definitely him.

Mr Flynn took his hat off.

‘You are Mr Flynn, sir?' said the man. ‘Constable Abberline tells me that I can trust you.'

‘That is so,' said Mr Flynn. ‘Allow me to introduce Julius Higgins. This is the young man who received the other orchid.'

Darwin glanced at Julius while he anxiously fiddled with the lapels of his coat.

‘I'm pleased to hear that the doctor discharged you, Mr Darwin,' said Mr Flynn.

Darwin snorted. ‘They know me here. I am engaged in research with one of their patients,' he said. ‘They know I'm not mad.'

‘I don't follow, sir,' said Mr Flynn.

He smiled at Mr Flynn's confusion. ‘Do you still have the orchid?' he said. ‘I should like see it.'

Mr Flynn took the jar out of his coat pocket and held it out to Darwin.

‘Yes. It's a soulcatcher,' said Darwin. ‘Destroy it. Burn it. Promise me you will.'

‘Of course,' said Mr Flynn. ‘But, why? I don't understand.'

Darwin looked hard into Mr Flynn's eyes. He appeared to be weighing him up. He ran his trembling hand through his hair.

‘A man named Tock has got his hands on some soulcatcher cuttings. He means to propagate them. He sent a pickpocket to steal my diary—it is full of my botanical observations of the soulcatcher. There is vital information in it about the soulcatcher's life cycle.'

‘Go on,' said Mr Flynn.

‘What I have to tell you, you will not believe,' said Darwin. He looked intently at Julius and Mr Flynn, calculating how much he could trust them. Then he continued. ‘Tock is a genius. But he is also a fiend.' He stopped as if to see how his words were being taken.

‘I'd agree with you about the fiend part, sir,' said Mr Flynn. ‘After what Julius and I have seen of him.'

This appeared to give Darwin the confidence to go on. ‘I met Mr Tock at a lecture on orchids at the Horticultural Society,' said Darwin. ‘He was all delight
and smiles, wanting to know about my explorations in Brazil. He asked me if I knew anything of an orchid that extracts people's souls—it is the stuff of rumour among the orchid-maniacs, you see. I am sorry to say, I made a grave error in telling him a little about the Village of the Soulcatchers. One day he asked for my assistance in propagating the soulcatcher cuttings he had somehow obtained. I refused, of course. He was most displeased. Then he asked to borrow my diary. Again, I refused.'

Darwin appeared to drift off into his own thoughts.

Julius shuddered as he remembered the native child sitting on its mother's lap and the smaller soulcatchers creeping into the clergyman's hut trying to seed him and Emily.

‘I have seen a village laid waste by the soulcatcher,' said Darwin. ‘If Tock succeeds with his propagation plans it will be calamitous. I was at my wits end searching for him. And then a soulcatcher was left outside my door.'

Darwin stopped as if he did not want to go on.

‘The life cycle of the soulcatcher is strange even for an orchid,' he said. ‘When it matures, individual buds pull themselves off the mother plant and send down roots into the ground. But they pull themselves out at night and go in search animals or humans to seed with their tendrils. When I saw the orchid in the pot outside my room I knew it was such a specimen.
He had managed to propagate it from the cuttings without my help. I didn't know what to do with it. I took it in as if in a dream, a nightmare. I fell into a stupor. When I awoke I saw the orchid climbing out of its pot. It was quicker and stronger than the ones I observed in Brazil. I must have screamed the house down.'

Darwin looked from Julius to Mr Flynn. His face was contorted with terror.

‘A horrifying experience, no doubt, sir,' said Mr Flynn.

‘We have to stop Tock,' said Darwin. ‘He intends to release the soulcatchers all over London.'

‘Why would he do such a thing?' said Mr Flynn.

Darwin fiddled nervously with his lapels again. ‘Tock is the strangest of men. He told me once that his Maker told him he had no soul. I told him the Bible tells us that all God's children have souls. He laughed at me.'

‘Why did he laugh?' said Mr Flynn.

‘He said he was not made by God,' said Darwin. ‘I am sure he means to carry out some insane revenge—if he has no soul he will take everyone else's and the soulcatcher is his means of doing so.'

Mr Flynn cleared his throat. ‘I see,' he said.

‘I believe he has my diary, so he has the means,' said Darwin. ‘He will do it, unless we can stop him. Will you help me?'

‘We will,' said Mr Flynn. ‘You have my word on that.' He put his hand on Julius's shoulder. ‘Isn't that right, Julius,' he said.

‘Yes,' said Julius, trying to sound convincing.

‘Good,' said Darwin. He fussed about his coat as to fend off a growing fear. ‘But, there is someone I must introduce you to, if you are to understand what we will be up against.'

‘We can call in on him on the way home, if you like,' said Mr Flynn.

‘There is no need,' said Darwin. ‘He is here in Bedlam. The man is the subject of the research I mentioned. Skinner's his name. George Skinner. He was an orchid-hunter.'

Julius started. Skinner was here in London when he was supposed to be in Brazil. He opened his mouth to ask if Skinner was seeded but stopped himself. He was not supposed to know anything about it.

CHAPTER 16