The Monster Hunter (17 page)

And so it was that the children who had been walked into the office of Mrs Reed as criminals exited as heroes.

Ben and Rosalie left the office and couldn't believe what had befallen them; they had saved the orphanage's children and battled demons both figurative and literal. They were trying to come to terms with it all on the track facing their home when they saw Major Union and his sister appear at the front door. Nanny Belle was smiling and she leant forward, kissing her brother on the cheek. His face was more serious as he bid her a farewell of sorts and started off up the road, giving a brief salute to the children
as he passed but offering no words. Ben watched him go.

‘Go after him,' said Rosalie. ‘How often do you get to meet your heroes?'

Ben didn't need telling twice. He ran off down the road as Rosalie walked back towards the orphanage and her waiting guardian.

Ben soon caught sight of the Major.

‘Major Union!' he shouted, pleased to see the figure stop and turn in the road.

‘What is it, Ben?' The Major's tone was curt as you would expect of a military man who hunted monsters but it was not so dismissive as to put Ben off.

‘I read your book,' was all he could think to say.

‘So I gathered. I can't be cross as it appears you may have had permission.' The tone was matter of fact; it contained neither anger nor regret.

‘I just wanted you to know,' the boy said and he got the nod he had been given by so many men since leaving Ceylon. He was starting to see it as a seal of approval from men who didn't have the right words to express emotion. The monster hunter started to turn to head off again and Ben thought that their conversation must be over. But the Major stopped and turned back for a moment, studying the boy.

‘I knew your mother… She was a good woman, a fighter. You should find out more about her … when you're ready. You have monster hunting in your blood…' There was a definite pause as if there would be more, but there was only another nod. This time, though, the nod seemed to be for the Major's benefit as if he had got something off his chest. He turned and walked off down the road, leaving the boy standing alone with tears in his eyes and so many questions that he just didn't know how to ask.

The following days at the orphanage passed with a fair amount of excitement. The story about the poisonous cherries was revealed to the orphans and reprimands issued about the hazards of playing with wild animals. Ben and Rosalie became the heroes of the hour for most, although certainly not for all. Ben continued his work at the oyster factory and Rosalie became Nanny Belle's teaching assistant when she wasn't receiving private tuition.

Now forgiven by most, Ben moved back into the dorm, where he found he became quite good at making up stories, as he had to keep up the charade of working secretly for the Crown and the enigmatic Major Jack Union, without giving away the truth. Rosalie, though, retained her room above the classroom; she could mingle with the children her age but liked the fact that she could retire to her private space when she needed to.

‘You were very quiet when your brother spoke to Mrs Reed,' she finally said one afternoon as Nanny Belle ran through the periodic table. The question had long been puzzling her.

‘I had nothing to say,' replied the nanny, fully aware there was more to follow.

‘Well, that's the thing,' continued Rosalie. ‘In my experience it's the people with nothing to say who do the most talking and yet you didn't say one word.' Nanny Belle tried to hide her smile by turning away towards the chart on the wall.

‘So what did you think I should have been saying?' Nanny Bell asked curiously.

‘I think you said just the right amount back then, but I also think you should be telling me everything you
didn't
say.'

Nanny Belle turned to face the grinning Gypsy girl and couldn't help smiling back.

‘It's a very long path, young lady, and one you can never tell
anyone about, but if you want to learn how to be a nanny you need to take a seat.'

The sound of the chair being pulled up warmed Nanny Belle's heart.

Someone Watching

I
t was a few months later when Nanny Belle visited her mother at her house, which also served as her business premises. The streets of London were cold and grey snow lined the alleyways and pavements.

The pavements on her mother's street, however, were clear of any trace of snow. Young men with big shovels warmed themselves by braziers, respectfully tipping their hats as Nanny Belle walked past. As she walked through the front door, she was greeted by one of her mother's girls.

‘Miss Belle, what a pleasant surprise. I don't believe your mother was expecting you because she has gone out for the day and…'

Nanny Belle raised a hand and stilled the girl's conversation.

‘I'm not expected until this evening. I came early so I could catch up with my brother.'

The girl seemed to relax at this, as if she had somehow been let off the hook. ‘Oh well, he's certainly home. He got back yesterday, in fact.'

‘So I hear,' said the nanny and nodding to the girl she passed through a doorway into a black-and-white tile-lined stairway. She had always loved this stairway as a child. It always felt like the climb you had to take to see Jack and his friend Kent (she refused to call him his batman) even though a few other doors also led from the stairwell.

She stood before the dark-green door that led into his apartments. There was a mat for wiping your feet, something she knew neither her brother nor Kent ever used, although they would insist on others wiping their feet as if the duo's dirt was the only honest dirt in London worthy of being traipsed across their carpets. The door had two stained-glass windows in it, so that Jack could see the shape of a caller before he opened the door, and the designs were of octopus reaching up from the depths but Jack had them deliberately put in upside down so they appeared to be reaching down from the clouds as he said they looked more accurate to his eyes that way. A big bell pull was set into the framework with the word ‘PULL' written on the ceramic knob in case a caller needed help – and they often did if they were coming to see Jack. Nanny Belle, however, knocked hard on the glass. The bell was for callers only; to family and friends this was an inner door and so was therefore knocked.

A moment later the door opened to the cheerful blond-bearded face of Kent. To Nanny Belle, he had always looked more like a Viking than an American, although as his accent was more Middle England neither was accurate.

‘Trinity!' he gushed and threw his big arms around her.

‘Nice to see you too, Kent.' She patted him gently on the back as Jack had taught her to do – a sign that the hug was over – and he broke away, nodding his head appreciatively.

‘If you weren't Jack's sister I would propose in a heartbeat,' he said happily.

Trinity raised an eyebrow. ‘You have proposed, Kent – often – and I have always turned you down because you are married already with a little daughter of your own.'

The big man laughed. ‘There is always that. Come in – don't worry about your boots, you're family.'

They walked down the hallway past display cases of things picked up by Jack on his travels and into the main room. Jack was sitting by the window. There were two cups of tea on a small round table beside his chair.

‘I watched you walking down the street. You still haven't shaken that limp from Edinburgh,' he said without looking up.

Nanny Belle turned to Kent and whispered, ‘He's in one of his moods I see. Best I talk to him alone.'

Kent nodded understandingly and disappeared back into the hallway and took a side door to his personal quarters, something that always amused Nanny Belle as he hadn't officially lived with her brother since he had married three years previously. She turned back to her brother and walking over she said in a louder voice:

‘It's the cold, Jack; it brings back all manner of niggles and injuries.' She picked up the other cup of tea and sat opposite her brother in the window. Both were quiet. She sat, tea in hand, sipping occasionally while he watched out into the street.

‘Where have you been?' she asked compassionately, already well aware of the answer.

‘Ceylon – a little place called Noralia… It's where they grow the tea. I picked up some while I was there. Got you some too, to take away.' He lifted his cup to his lips and took a sip, enjoying the bitter flavour on his lips.

‘Did it help?' she asked, her voice straining under her own held-back emotion. She hoped that her moist eyes did not give her away.

‘Does it ever help?' he seemed to ask of the world beyond the window and took another sip of his tea.

‘Are you going to tell the boy?' she asked, her thoughts going to Ben who was doing so well at the orphanage and the oyster factory that she felt he was already turning his back on Ceylon and the horrific events of his past.

Jack looked at his sister. ‘My God, Trinity – dry your eyes, girl.' He handed her a handkerchief from his pocket and she realised that, indeed, her cheeks were already wet with tears. ‘I wasn't quick enough to find her and I certainly wasn't there to save her. The world moves on and we move on with it.'

‘She was your wife, Jack, and he's your son. I know you feel it, however hard you make your heart. You don't have to keep doing it alone. You can stop, live the life of a proud father, the Crown would let you go, I'm sure of it.' Her words were meant to be compassionate but she quickly felt her brother's anger rising to the surface.

Jack turned his hazel eyes upon his sister. ‘I am proud. I couldn't be more proud. He took out a Psammead and a Bogle at the age of fourteen. He has his mother's warrior blood coursing through his veins. A bit brutal in his delivery perhaps, but that will temper with age. He will learn style and finesse.'

Jack took a sip of tea and smiled. ‘I once saw his mother move through a room of lycanthropes with such grace it was as if it
were a deadly ballet.'

Nanny Belle smiled as well. ‘You told me that once before but I would love to hear all those stories again.'

Jack chuckled. ‘And you will!' His tone became serious. ‘But the boy can never know. You must keep it from him and others. I have enemies and he would be an easy target, as well his mother knew, which is why she took him far away and why I never looked for them.'

Nanny Belle reached into her bag. ‘I have something for you.' She handed Jack the leather-bound book with the carved resin face. ‘I think it's better in your care than in mine. Besides, the more Ben reads of this, the more he will want to hunt the monsters down. It's possibly best he doesn't know all your secrets just yet.'

Jack leant forward and took the book. ‘Ben,' he said distantly. ‘It suits him but I don't think I'll ever get used to it.'

Nanny Belle nodded. She hated that her brother should be separated from his son but at least in that way he was to some degree protected.

‘Will he be safe now he is in England?' she asked, concerned.

‘He'll never be safe, Trinity. Safety is an illusion we have built up over many years. But he will be watched over. When he was born I remember his mother asked me if he would be safe and I remember my words to her: “Between you and me, my love, there is always someone watching.”'