Julius and the Soulcatcher (21 page)

‘It's a very large house for one old gentleman,' said Clara.

‘Don't forget all the animals,' said Emily. ‘Running all over the place like they own it.'

‘Aren't they in cages?' said Julius.

‘Cages?' said Emily. ‘Cages is boring. When I grow up I'm 'aving an eagle.'

‘We'll see,' said Clara.

They entered the stable yard and Clara led them down some steps into dark corridor lined with boots and coats on hooks. It opened into a sizeable kitchen—full of cooks and kitchen hands, all rushing about, busily stirring, peeling and chopping. It was as noisy as race day on Epsom Downs with the clash of pans and the hiss of the fires along with the oaths shouted at the poor kitchen maids. Clara leaned close to Julius. ‘The kitchen is hot with jealousy. His Lordship's cook is in charge and she bullies the rest of them. There's a cook for the crocodiles. There's one for the all the monkeys, and twenty more for all the different animals, all the way down to the poor girl who sifts the bird seed for the fairy wrens.'

‘You ain't seen naffing yet,' said Emily above the din. ‘Come on.'

Clara and Emily took him up a flight of stairs. Clara opened the door at the top just a little. ‘Strictly speaking we shouldn't be here but I wanted to show you,' she said.

She touched his hand as she spoke.

Despite himself, Julius was intrigued. He peered through the gap. Before him was a wide passage. After the cacophony of the kitchen it was eerily quiet. Gas jets shaped like long-necked birds lit the corridor, which was lined with wallpaper depicting exotic birds flying among branches that bore colourful fruits. Wooden panels below the wallpaper were carved to
resemble climbing plants, and the carpet looked to be as thick as a mattress.

‘Look up,' whispered Emily.

The ceiling was one long painting of a blue sky with wispy white clouds, interrupted by plaster mouldings, from which the chandeliers hung.

Julius heard a scrunching sound. There was movement further along the corridor.

‘'ere comes somefing,' said Emily. ‘I 'ope it's good and peculiar.'

Julius, Emily and Clara watched in astonishment as a creature trotted along the carpet. It was as large as a badger but resembled an armoured rat. When it neared the door it stopped, pointed its long snout at them and sniffed.

‘Off with you,' said Clara, nervously.

The creature lost interest and continued along the corridor.

‘It's going to take me a while to get used to the wildlife,' said Clara. ‘Follow me. I'll show you my room.'

They retraced their steps down the stairs. Clara took a spare oil lamp from a hook and led them to the back stairs and then up the four flights to the women's wing of the servants' quarters.

‘They haven't put gas pipes up here yet,' said Clara. She stopped at one of the doors. ‘Here we are. Home, sweet home.' She opened it and ushered
Julius and Emily inside.

‘It's ace, ain't it?' said Emily. ‘Mrs Trevelyan gave her all sorts of fings to make it nice.'

Julius looked around. A curtained window was set into the sloping ceiling and a narrow bed with a bedside table stood against the wall. A small fireplace with a dying coal still gave off a little warmth.

‘You can see the dome of the Animal House from the window,' said Clara, as she unbuttoned her coat and removed her bonnet.

Julius pulled the curtain aside but all he could see was the black night. He remained there, looking out at nothing.

Emily sat on the edge of the bed and bounced. ‘All you need is some pictures to 'ang and you'll be like royalty,' she said.

Julius felt Clara's eyes on him, he did not dare look around.

Clara stroked the bare wall with her fingers. ‘Yes, a few pictures would be nice,' she said.

‘We should be going,' said Julius. ‘Grandfather will be wondering where I am.'

Clara fidgeted with the ribbons of her bonnet. ‘Oh, yes, of course. Give Father my best wishes,' she said. ‘Tell him I'm well.'

‘Yes, I will,' said Julius. He realised that he meant it.

Emily jumped off the bed. ‘I'll come back
tomorrow, Clara,' she said. ‘If you find a small animal wot won't be missed, can you nick it for me? I'll bring a bag for it.'

‘We'll see, dear,' said Clara, smiling to herself.

Julius took a last look around the room and at his mother. He hoped she would be happy there. ‘I can get some prints for the walls,' he said. ‘What sort of scenes do you like?'

Clara thought for a moment. ‘Castles,' she said. She linked her arm with his to walk him out.

At the stairway, Julius heard a scraping sound. He moved closer to the stairs and saw the armoured-rat creature scrabbling up towards him.

‘Good gracious,' said Clara.

Further down the staircase and around the corner came the sounds of many paws in pursuit.

The rat creature reached the top of the stairs and ran in an awkward hobbling motion along one of the corridors. A strange pack of terrier-sized dogs came into view at the turn in the staircase. They raced up the stairs as if on a hunt.

The rat creature, now too terrified to know where it was going, ran into a wall, then curled itself up into an armoured ball.

‘Heel. Heel, damn you,' called out someone from below.

‘Oi, pick on someone your own size,' said Emily, to the dogs snapping at the balled-up creature.

The dogs were not like any Julius had seen before. And they were not barking like dogs, but emitting high-pitched yelps. Their heads seemed too large for their bodies and their snouts too long for their heads. Black stripes ran across their sleek, brown backs, and their hind legs were disproportionately small. All in all, they looked like a child's drawing of a dog come to life.

A man appeared at the turn in the stairs. ‘Heel,' he wheezed, and he grasped the banister and hauled himself to the top of the stairs.

Julius, Emily and Clara stared in disbelief. There were five or six tiny hummingbirds flitting around the man's head. Their feathers were a shimmering green and their wings were a buzzing blur as they took turns darting back and forth to dip their long beaks into the man's ears. The man paid them no attention.

‘Heel, heel,' he called to the dogs.

The dogs left the curled-up creature and gathered around the old man's feet.

Clara bobbed a quick curtsey.

This must be Lord Bloomingbury, Higgins.

Julius reckoned His Lordship to be in his mid-seventies. His arms and legs were as thin as rake handles, but his belly was a dome over which his waistcoat buttons strained. His white hair was splendidly curled in the latest fashion and his side-whiskers were as bushy and white as clouds.

‘Good Heavens,' he said, looking from Clara, to Emily and finally to Julius.

‘Good evening, Your Lordship,' said Clara, a little flustered. She curtsied again.

The strange dogs sniffed around the man's feet, not able to be still for a moment.

‘Who the devil are you?' he said.

‘Clara Higgins, sir. I'm to start as under-housekeeper tomorrow morning, sir,' said Clara. ‘I was just settling into my room, sir.'

Lord Bloomingbury's mouth opened wide to let out a long. ‘Ahhh.' Then he continued. ‘I comprehend, entirely. Welcome, welcome, my dear, to my humble abode.'

‘Thank you, sir.'

‘However…I thought my advertisement was clear, Miss Higgins—no family ties,' said Lord Bloomingbury. He glanced disapprovingly from Emily to Julius. ‘I cannot have my servants' lives complicated by children and such like. I thought that was quite clear—no families.'

‘Oh, it was, sir,' said Clara, curtseying again.

‘We ain't family, gov,' said Emily. ‘We're only visiting. We live next door, but one, from where Clara used to work. We just 'appened to bump into 'er in the Zoo Gardens. We got talking and we said we'd see 'er 'ome. Ain't that right, Julius?'

‘Er, yes,' said Julius. He was impressed by what
a convincing liar Emily was. He almost believed her himself.

Lord Bloomingbury's disapproval turned into a concerned smile. ‘So, my child, your parents do not know where you are?' he asked.

‘Naaa. They don't 'ave the foggiest notion,' said Emily. ‘Nobody does.'

‘I'm terribly sorry, Your Lordship,' said Clara. ‘They were just on their way out.'

Lord Bloomingbury did not appear to be listening. He tapped his chin. ‘Interesting. Very interesting,' he said.

The armoured rat had unfurled itself and was trying to sneak away down the corridor. The dogs gave chase.

‘Young man,' he said to Julius. ‘Could I beg your assistance? Be so kind as to retrieve the creature yonder.'

Julius hesitated. He did not relish the idea of grappling with it.

‘Do not fear, my boy. Armadillos are timid creatures,' said Lord Bloomingbury. ‘I suggest you pick it up by its tail.'

Julius followed the escaping armadillo and grabbed its tail with both hands. It was surprisingly heavy, but, to Julius's great delight, it did not try to bite him—it curled up into a ball and hung upside down like a clock's pendulum.

‘Splendid. You are a gifted animal handler,' said Lord Bloomingbury. ‘Now, follow me and I shall show you a dodo.'

‘A dodo, sir? said Julius. ‘But, they're all gone aren't they? All dead for two hundred years.'

Lord Bloomingbury chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. ‘What a clever young fellow you are,' he said. ‘Perhaps you're correct. But what if you're not?'

‘'ow big is a dodo, sir?' said Emily. ‘Would it fit in a sack, do you fink?'

‘Probably,' said Lord Bloomingbury. ‘Why do you ask?'

Clara put her arm around Emily's shoulder. ‘I do apologise, Your Lordship,' she said. ‘Shush now, Emily,' she whispered.

‘Do you even know what a dodo is?' asked Julius.

‘Yes, I bleeding I do,' said Emily.

Clara attempted a good-natured titter as she tried to edge Emily down the stairs.

‘I'm most terribly sorry, Your Lordship,' she said. ‘We really should be going.'

Lord Bloomingbury chuckled again. ‘Think nothing of it, Miss Higgins,' he said. ‘The child has spirit. What a specimen. I should like to add her to my collection.'

His shoulders shook as he laughed at his joke. ‘Follow me,' he said, when he'd composed himself. ‘Let's hunt down a dodo.'

He walked down the stairs, with the strange dogs scrambling after him

‘Better do as His Lordship says,' whispered Clara. ‘Emily, please don't speak again.'

‘I'll try,' whispered Emily. ‘But I ain't promising naffing.'

They followed Lord Bloomingbury through a door into another long and finely decorated corridor. Huge paintings of exotic animals and birds lined the walls. A horned creature walked gracefully by, ignoring everyone.

‘That's my oryx,' said Lord Bloomingbury. ‘It's rather aloof.'

‘That's the peculiar 'orse wot we saw,' whispered Emily.

Lord Bloomingbury nearly tripped on the dogs many times as he wandered the corridors. They passed a herd of peccaries and a pair of sleeping warthog along the way—he stepped over them without comment.

‘Here we are,' he said. They had come to a door with the word ‘Library' painted on it.

Julius looked around for somewhere to put the armadillo. In the middle of the room stood round tables where volumes as large as cottage doors lay open to show exquisite paintings of birds, plants and animals. Some of the illustrations appeared to be stained with bird droppings. Looking up, Julius saw
why—long-tailed parrots were perched on the chandeliers. He could make out at least one nest in the crystal pieces.

The thought of so many wonderful books being treated with such disrespect pained Julius. It would have made his grandfather weep.

‘Put it anywhere,' said Lord Bloomingbury to Julius.

When Julius went to put the armadillo down the strange dogs leapt towards it.

‘Oi,' said Emily. ‘Them dogs, wot kind are they, gov? I ain't seen naffing like 'em in my life.'

‘They're thylacines, from Van Diemen's Land,' Lord Bloomingbury said, as he shooed them out of the library and closed the door behind them. ‘Still pups, though. I plan to breed them up. Soon every boy in England will have a pet thylacine, mark my words.'

Julius released the armadillo. It unfurled itself and ambled away to a corner where it hid under a globe mounted on a wooden stand.

‘Your 'ouse is ace, gov,' said Emily. ‘You must be the luckiest man in England?'

‘Yes. I suppose I am,' he replied. ‘I have creatures from all over the known world, and some of the
un
known, too. Come now. I promised to show you a dodo.'

With that, Lord Bloomingbury turned a door-handle. Emily clapped her hands and pushed in front of Julius.

‘Calm yourself, Emily,' whispered Clara.

The next room was a large sitting room with a fire roaring in a splendid fireplace. Lord Bloomingbury waved his hand at the portraits around the room—all finely attired gentlemen and ladies in regal poses. ‘That's the family, all the way back to the Battle of Hastings,' he said.

Emily's eyes darted around the room looking for the dodo. All Julius could see were white streaks on the walls were the wallpaper had been pulled off. He noticed a faint odour and sniffed. It was like two-week-old meat.

A lizard, as long as a man, was sleeping on the couch. It flicked its tail, making Clara jump.

‘There it is!' shouted Emily.

A bird like a large grey chicken tootled out from behind a chair. It pecked at the wallpaper with its oddly shaped beak and then pulled a strip off.

‘This is the only remaining dodo in the entire world,' said Lord Bloomingbury, proudly.

‘Pity you've only got the one, gov,' said Emily. She tried to corral the bird, but it hopped around her and ran along the wall squawking. ‘I'd love to 'ave a dodo for myself.'