No one talked much as they ate that evening. Peter was unusually serious but Celeste thought little of it. He had a lot of work to do on the pantomime and perhaps he felt he should be at the opera house rather than cooking supper.
‘He wants to know what’s going on.’
‘Should I tell him?’ asked Celeste, but Maria didn’t answer.
After we’ve finished supper, Celeste thought, I’ll have time to talk to Viggo and Maria alone, and I might even see her.
‘It’s one thing to talk to you in my head but I would much rather see you in front of me.’
Celeste was lost in these thoughts and was only vaguely aware of the grown-ups. A plum pudding was served with fresh cream, and after they’d eaten it, she asked if she and Viggo might be allowed to leave the table.
To her surprise, Peter said, ‘No. I think the time has come for us to be honest with each other. No more secrets behind closed doors. Stephan has told me Anna’s story and he has his own far-fetched fairy tale, and I’ve yet to make up my mind as to what I believe. I’m not a fool – though I may believe in the ancient history of the snail. So please – what is happening here?’
Everyone was quiet. Celeste waited for Maria to speak to her.
‘Well?’ said Peter.
‘Tell them. Perhaps they can help.’ Celeste was about to start when Maria said, ‘First show them what you can do.’
‘No,’ said Celeste out loud.
‘No?’ said Peter. ‘You aren’t going to explain?’
‘I am, yes, I am. I was just… I didn’t mean “No.”’
‘Good. Would you start then?’
‘I don’t know where to begin.’
‘The beginning, I’m told,’ said Peter, ‘is a good enough place.’
‘That’s the trouble,’ said Celeste. ‘You won’t believe the beginning and if I start where I think I should, it won’t make any sense.’
‘Begin where you need to,’ said Anna.
Celeste took a deep breath and told them about all that happened with the man in the emerald green suit, about the cave of dreams and the sleepers. She told them about Maria and the gutter of time and how they were sure that as long as the man in the emerald green suit didn’t find out they were twins they stood a chance of winning the game that he called the Reckoning.
When she had finished, Peter and Stephan looked very solemn.
‘I think,’ said Celeste, who had grown used to the sound of her own voice, ‘I think I have two of the things the man in the emerald green suit wants.’
‘You have?’ said Peter.
‘Yes. The song of a bird who can’t sing.’
‘Hildegard can sing like a bird,’ said Anna. ‘And her mother says she can’t.’
‘Go on,’ said Peter, sounding dubious.
‘And the second, a play too small for actors,’ said Celeste. ‘I think it’s the toy theatre I was given in the toy shop. It’s far too small for real actors but I can put on a play with cardboard actors.’
Stephan suddenly said, ‘I must see that toy theatre.’
‘I’m not supposed to open it until Christmas Eve,’ said Celeste. But the idea of opening it there and then was thrilling.
‘Why, Stephan?’ said Peter.
‘To see if it’s the same.’
‘The same as what?’ said Anna.
‘The one that was found on the Empress,’ Stephan said, softly.
‘How would you know?’ asked Anna.
‘Because I was the first to board the ship when she was found. And in the saloon was a toy theatre. I would recognise it.’
Carefully, so that it might be wrapped up again, Celeste opened the Christmas present.
‘Oh!’ said Anna, remembering. ‘We did this before. You were so excited and knowing what it was, you begged me to let you open it. I said you could but it would have to be wrapped again and put under the tree.’
‘You did,’ said Celeste. ‘I remember too.’
‘So do I,’ said the voice in her head.
‘You rehearsed a play,’ said Anna. ‘You were going to perform it for your mother and father on—’
‘New Year’s Eve,’ said Celeste.
‘That’s right,’ said Anna. ‘You made up the story.’
‘We made it up together,’ said Maria to Celeste.
Peter and Viggo assembled the theatre. There were tiny holders for small candles to go in and wire sticks to hold and move the figures with.
‘There,’ said Peter as he lit the candles.
‘It looks as if it belongs in fairyland,’ said Viggo.
‘I’m sure it’s the very same theatre,’ said Stephan. ‘It’s the one I found two years ago on the Empress.’
Anna, Celeste and Viggo turned to look at him.
Stephan started. ‘We had set sail for the Americas on a clipper, the Mary Bell. It was nearing New Year’s Eve when we found ourselves in a stretch of uncharted waters. It had begun to freeze and we longed for a good wind to blow us back on course. Then out of a sea-fret we saw her, the Empress. She was flying her flags and making her way under her own sail. But she seemed deserted and there was no answer to our signal. Our captain decided that we would go aboard. It wasn’t an easy manoeuvre to go alongside her. It was growing dark when to our surprise every light on the ship went on and as we drew nearer we could hear music. By then many of our sailors were terrified. They believed her to be a ghost ship – we are a superstitious lot and the sea rarely gives back alive what it has taken.
‘I was First Mate and, along with one of our deck hands, was the first to board her. Everything I saw that evening was unreal. As I said, in the saloon there was a toy theatre, it was lit up, just like this one. On the floor, in front of it, was a silk shawl. I saw chairs that had been recently sat on and beside them glasses filled with champagne, the bubbles still sparkling. In short everything was as it should have been, except there was no one on board. The deck hand and I didn’t know what to make of it. But our job was to secure lines from the Empress to the Mary Bell, which we did, and we resumed our voyage. That night, only me and the deck hand stayed aboard the Empress. About three in the morning we heard the sound of tapping and I went to see what was causing it. The noise grew louder and it sounded like a blind man tapping the walls with a cane to guide himself. The sound stopped in the saloon. I felt my heart in my mouth. The saloon door was shut but then I heard the tap-tap-tapping, coming from inside. When I opened the door there was no one there.
‘Next day was New Year’s Eve. The Mary Bell had been slowed down towing the Empress. The deck hand refused to stay aboard her that night and the captain asked if I was willing. It was nearly midnight when the tapping started again. I was on the bridge and I remember I looked at the clock and saw it was twelve minutes to twelve. The sound stopped right outside the door. I shouted, “Who’s there? Show yourself,” and at that moment a fog descended. I was never to see the Mary Bell again.
‘When the fog cleared she was gone and the Empress was surrounded by small boats. She was towed into the harbour of the city of C—.
‘I spent nearly a year in prison pending further enquiries. No one believed my story; no one had any knowledge of a clipper called the Mary Bell. I wasn’t released until every item on the Empress had been accounted for. But I’m guilty of taking one thing from the Empress. This was on a writing desk in the saloon.’
Stephan took from his wallet a photograph and put it on the table.
Celeste knelt on a chair to look at it. Anna gasped. It was a studio portrait of Anna with Maria and Celeste, the twins wearing sailor dresses.
‘When I found you in the dome of the opera house,’ said Stephan, ‘I recognised you and thought that perhaps I wasn’t alone in the madness. I soon realised you had no memory of the Empress. But then, later that day, I was watching from the fly tower just before the chandelier fell. I heard Celeste say what I’ve thought since the day I arrived in this city – “This is all wrong.”’
‘When did you pick up the photograph?’ asked Celeste. ‘Before or after you heard the tapping?’
‘Before. When I first went into the saloon.’
‘That’s good,’ said Celeste.
‘That’s good,’ said Maria at the same time.
‘Where was the Mary Bell’s home port?’ asked Anna.
‘Copenhagen,’ said Stephan.