The Bonehill Curse (2 page)

‘Uncle Carlos?’ Ness gave a smile.
Now there’s someone who cares
, she thought. Uncle Carlos sent all kinds of things to her – cake, sweets, books. She hadn’t seen him for many years but he used to come to the house when she was a little girl and lived at home. ‘Has he sent me a gift?’

‘Yes, quite, miss,’ coughed Hardgrave, stuffing the sack into Ness’s arms. ‘I am to hand this sack and the bottle therein –’

‘Bottle?’ Miss Pinchett frowned. ‘I trust there’s nothing intoxicating in it?’

‘To the best of my knowledge, no,’ Hardgrave said, mopping his brow and edging towards the door. ‘I shouldn’t think so, ma’am.’ He turned to Ness. ‘I’m to hand it to you personally and instruct you to
never
open it.’

‘Never open it? But why?’ Ness murmured. She frowned at the sack. The bottle felt hard and cold through the material.

‘Haven’t the first idea, miss. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must return to London. Good day to you both . . . and good luck!’ Hardgrave gave a slight bow and scurried away, slamming the door behind him.

Ness stared down at the sack again.

Miss Pinchett peered at it too. ‘Aren’t you going to look at it?’

Ness narrowed her eyes at the headmistress. ‘Not just yet,’ she sniffed.
Not in front of you, you miserable old trout
. With a short smile, Ness hugged the sack to her chest and swept out of the room.

A sound heart is the life of the flesh but envy the rottenness of the bones.

P
roverbs
,
Old Testament

Chapter Two

S
ergeant
M
ajor 
M
orris

With a curse, Ness stormed down the dusty corridors of Rookery Heights and stamped up the stairs, pausing only to kick the head of the moth-eaten tiger-skin rug that covered the entrance-hall floor. Toop, the butler, frowned at her with his hooded eyes. Winifred and Ann, the chambermaids, put their work-reddened hands to their mouths. Winifred gave a feeble curtsy, a coil of red hair springing from her mob cap. Ann’s mouth was covered but Ness could see excitement in her blue eyes. They’d be gossiping about Necessity Bonehill in the kitchens tonight, that was for sure.

Ness ignored them.
It’s not fair. That old trout Pinchett shouldn’t have mentioned my parents
. She slammed herself into the dormitory door, sending it crashing open.

Three girls sat frozen on their beds. Ness glowered at them. Mollie Rogers stared back. She was the nearest in age to Ness, her unruly red hair a testament to her wild temper, but even she knew not to cross Ness when she burst into the room like this. On the bed opposite sat Sarah Devine, eleven, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, and the darling of the Academy.

‘Who’d marry
you
, Necessity Bonehill?’ Sarah had said on her second day here. ‘Your hair is so coarse and black, like a sweep’s brush, and your skin is so . . . sunburned.’

The staff had only just managed to persuade Ness not to drop her as she dangled Sarah out of the window by her legs.

Now the youngest, Hannah Downey, fumbled as she slid something under her pillow, desperate not to catch Ness’s eye.

Ness strode over to her bed, dropping her own package and pulling Hannah’s pillow back.

‘What’s this then, eh?’ Ness said, snatching up a parcel and a letter. ‘Papa’s been writing again, has he?’

‘P-please don’t t-take it, Ness.’ Hannah’s bottom lip began to tremble as she twisted her fingers in her skirts.

‘Come on, Ness, she’s only nine,’ Mollie murmured, kneeling up on her bed.

‘Pathetic,’ Ness hissed, flashing a warning glance at Mollie. She ripped at the package. A sweet aroma tickled her nose. ‘Cake.’ Ness smiled and threw it on to her bed next to the sack. She pulled the letter out of the envelope and clambered on to her bed to read it. Hannah’s sobs filled the room. ‘Stop that snivelling, girl,’ Ness snapped. She scanned the paper, icy envy filling her stomach and tightening her throat as she read.

My dearest poppet,

Your last letter so distressed us. Had we known how unhappy you were at Rookery Heights, we would never have made you return after Christmas. Rest assured that we have made arrangements with Miss Pinchett and next weekend Papa and I will come to collect you personally. In the meantime, Cook has made you a cake to share with your friends at the Academy. We have employed a governess so that we can all be together. We’re so looking forward to having you back at Squire’s Hall.

Your loving mama

Ness stared at the letter. Tears stung her eyes. She felt as if she were falling. Hannah’s parents were taking her away from the Academy –
they
cared about their daughter. It wasn’t fair!

‘Are you all right, Ness?’ Hannah said, her faint squeak bringing Ness back.

‘Course I am.’ Ness stifled a cough and scrubbed an angry fist across her eyes. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

‘You’re jealous,’ Mollie whispered, the realisation dawning on her. ‘You’re stuck here and Hannah’s going home. That’s it, isn’t it, Ness?’

For a moment Ness stood, uncertain what to do. Hannah gave a stifled sob and leapt from her bed, snatching her letter and cake back.

‘Why would I want to be like any of you? You’re all pathetic!’ With a snort of contempt, Ness turned and flew from the dormitory.

The light was fading as Ness ran along the path that led from Rookery Heights into the woods. A cool breeze blew in from the sea, making her shiver.
Stupid girls. What does Mollie Rogers know anyway?
Ness snuffled back the sobs that threatened to burst forth.
But they’re right, of course
, she thought, picking up a stick and slashing at the undergrowth around her.
What I wouldn’t give for a letter like that! All the Christmases, all the summers I’ve spent rotting in this marshland dump
. True, her parents came to see her every now and then, but since the age of eight, Rookery Heights had been her home.

She wandered on, scything at the grass and bushes. Birds flapped into the trees, chattering at the intrusion.
If only I’d remembered the package
, she thought.
I could have looked at it now
.

A dim light shone through the trees. Ness smiled. As she drew nearer, the familiar outline of the cottage became apparent. Smoke curled from the chimney and an oil lamp burned in the window.

Ness took a step forward.

Then froze.

The cold metal of a gun muzzle chilled the back of her neck, making her draw a sharp breath.

‘Who goes there?’ said a quavering voice. ‘Friend or foe?’

Ness glanced sideways at the strange figure in flannel pyjamas, with a bristling moustache and grey hair sprouting from under a battered, bullet-holed pith helmet. Sergeant Major Morris.

Ness didn’t move. ‘It’s me, Ness,’ she whispered.

‘Nick?’ the sergeant major said, lowering the gun. ‘Is it you?’ Dropping the weapon, he threw his arms around Ness. ‘Thank goodness, boy! I haven’t seen you for years!’

‘It’s Ness, and I saw you yesterday,’ she said, grinning.

‘Did you?’ The sergeant major scratched his head, pushing back the helmet to reveal his thinning hair and ruddy complexion. ‘What was I doing?’

‘Teaching me to fight,’ Ness said, half crouching and jabbing a playful fist at the old man. ‘As usual.’

Over the years he’d taught her boxing, sword craft, rifle shooting, all spiced with tales of his regiment, the Hinderton Rifles, and his time in India. He looked old but he wasn’t frail and he was fast. He was the one person who made life at the Academy bearable.

‘I was, eh? Good show, good show!’ Morris barked and gave Ness a sly wink. ‘Come inside and have some tea. Getting dark. You don’t know what might be lurking about.’

Ness watched Morris march off into the clearing and up the overgrown path to the front of the cottage.

‘He’s mad,’ Mollie had said one night. ‘You can hear him sometimes, screaming in the dark, firing his rifle at shadows.’

‘He lost his family in the Indian Mutiny,’ Sarah whispered. ‘Watched his daughter and grandchildren die, trapped in a burning house.’

‘Miss Pinchett has declared the cottage out of bounds to all girls,’ Mollie had said, with a shudder.

Which was why Ness had sought it out in the first place.

‘Well?’ Morris said, as he stopped and pushed the door open. ‘Are you coming in?’

Inside, the cottage looked strangely ordered but still as dusty and faded as its owner. Books lined the shelves, squeezed together tightly. Ness had tried to pull down a book on swordsmanship once and nearly been buried in an avalanche of other titles. A small table huddled by the fire, surrounded by four wooden stools. Clothes hung on the backs of doors and flags draped from the walls. At the side of the door, four rifles stood sentry next to each other.

Above the fireplace, a ragged standard hung from the chimney breast, with guns crossed over a leering demon’s face and fiery gold letters that declared,
Fourth Hinderton Rifles: Satan, Do Your Worst.
Ness often puzzled over this flag but all Morris would ever say was, ‘Hindertons, my old regiment. Unique, we were.’ And he would stiffen to attention for a second.

‘So, Nick, what brings you here on such a dark night?’ Morris said, planting himself on a stool and leaning forward to stare at Ness.

‘I can’t bear it at the Academy any longer,’ Ness sighed, leaning on the table. ‘Why did my parents send me here? Do they really care about me so little?’

Morris’s eyes twinkled in the firelight. ‘Sometimes parents have to make hard choices,’ he whispered hoarsely.

‘Hard choices? Such as keeping me in a dump like this?’ Ness muttered.

‘Sit tight,’ Morris said. ‘You’re safe here. They won’t get you here.’ But he leaned closer towards her, a haunted look in his eye. ‘They lurk in every shadow of the empire.’

‘What d’you mean?’ Ness said, her voice faint.

Morris stared at her blankly for a second, then shook himself and glanced out of the window. ‘Toop’s out there looking for you,’ he murmured.

Ness peered out into the darkness. A faint glimmer of a storm lantern flickered between the branches.

‘How d’you know it’s Toop?’ Ness said, blinking to see the faint light.

‘The man has a limp,’ Morris said, winking. ‘The lamp swings awkwardly. Besides,
Miss Pinchett
wouldn’t come out in the dark looking for you.’

‘I’d better go,’ Ness said.

‘Keep your wits about you,’ Morris said, opening the door.

‘I can get past Toop.’ Ness grinned.

‘It’s not Toop I’m worried about,’ Morris called after her as she plunged into the darkness.

With wishing comes grieving.

T
raditional proverb

Chapter Three

A
n
U
nwel
c
ome
V
isitor

A sliver of bright moonlight illuminated the slumbering shapes in the dormitory as Ness crept back in. She could make out Hannah’s face, serene, secure in the knowledge that she was loved and would soon be going home. The heaviness in Ness’s heart returned. Her trembling hands rattled the iron bedhead as she grabbed it to steady herself after her headlong flight through the woods. Her heart pounded. As she had predicted, Toop had been easy to evade, but Morris’s parting words had unsettled her.

The bottle still lay on Ness’s bed, and she slid it out from the rough sack. It felt solid and icy cold. She couldn’t tell whether it was made of thick glass or metal but even in the half-light, Ness could make out the dancing figures that decorated the main body of the bottle – hideous heads with horns and leering faces. She shuddered.

Are they a warning?
She traced a finger along the neck of the bottle, which ended in a snarling dragon’s head, jaws wide, the stopper clamped between its teeth.

‘I can’t decide if you’re horrible or beautiful,’ she whispered.

Why would Uncle Carlos send her something like this and tell her never to open it? Ness shook the bottle. No liquid swirled within; nothing rattled. As far as she could tell, it was empty. She sighed, placing it on her pillow, then undressed, wriggling into her thick nightdress.
It must be one of Uncle Carlos’s jokes
. Ness always remembered him laughing, usually in the hallway at home when she was young. Her parents never laughed though. She’d never thought of that before. She could remember Uncle Carlos smiling up at her as she peered through the banister rails, with Father scowling at him.

‘Your father doesn’t appreciate my sense of humour, my little Necessity,’ he had called up once. ‘He knows that I will always have the last laugh.’

Ness had grinned back, not knowing what he meant. He was just teasing Father, she supposed.