Chapter 38

I was expelled that very day from Miss Salamanca’s School for Upright Young Ladies for leaving the property without permission, skipping classes, reporting an intruder to my bedroom when there wasn’t one, breaking into Darvill House, sassing Mr. Treazleton, socking Theresa Treazleton in the eye, and, I suppose, just generally being myself. I can’t pretend that I was surprised.

I never breathed a word about Sarah Trippin escorting me on my illegal errand. She works in the school kitchens still, under the friendly eye of Miss Plumley, and I’ll daresay the students there are eating much better and more happily than we did during the reign of La Gruboil.

Polydora wasn’t available to come fetch me home from school. She had, apparently, a choir rehearsal to attend. I never knew Polly considered herself musical, but I later learned that Constable Hopewood was a noted local baritone. I could put two and two together easily enough to figure that one out.

It was Father who came and fetched me home, that same night, after work ended. Miss Salamanca had sent a telegram home, and I suppose Mother must’ve asked Aunt Vera to telephone the bank. We rode to St. Pancras and boarded a train.

“Tell me, Maeve,” he asked me, once the conductor had punched our tickets, “how did you find your djinni?”

I glanced around me on the train, but saw no ginger-whiskered man this time, nor anyone else paying us the slightest attention. So I told him the entire story. He asked me in particular to tell him about the visions Mermeros had shown me, there in the Oddity Shop—cricket leagues and traveling the world. I did so, and braced myself for a lecture on the impropriety of either goal for a respectable young lady. None came.

“A cricket league for girls,” he repeated. “A cricket league for girls…”

When we returned home, my mother assailed me in the front entryway, ready to flay me alive for being expelled from school. Father helped me off with my coat, and waited for Mother to pause for breath. When he could get a word in edgewise, he said, simply, “Maeve is better off without that school.” And that was the end of that.

But I wasn’t sure I was better off.

Days dragged like lead weights around my ankles. I missed Alice. I missed Tommy. I missed commotion and bustle and even the thrill of getting into trouble. It’s possible, though not certain, that I even missed learning. I could only conclude that I really was a hopeless case. If I didn’t become a famous world cricketer, I’d probably end up a criminal.

These and other cheery thoughts were all I had to occupy my time. That, and finishing Nicholas Nickleby. (Alice, by post, promised to mail me her copy of Oliver Twist.)

Preparations for Evangeline’s wedding had reached a fever pitch, so Mother, Evangeline, and Deborah were no company at all, not that they ever had been much, to tell the truth. Polydora, bless her, was a dear as always, but her thoughts were elsewhere, probably hovering somewhere in the vicinity of the Luton police bureau. I was happy for her. But one dull day dragged on after another, and the cold and wet January made it hard for me to leave the house. I thought I might quietly disintegrate into dust, and no one would notice.

Until one Saturday afternoon.

I sat in the parlor, under Mother’s orders, but buried my nose in Oliver Twist for my own pleasure. We heard the sound of the bell, and Jenkins’s footsteps as she went to answer it. Moments later she appeared in the parlor doorway.

“A Mr. and Mrs. Bromley, madam, sir, here to see you, and their granddaughter, too, a Miss Alice.”

She bowed and showed them in. Mother and Father sat up in their seats and smoothed out their clothing. Mother hid her reading glasses while Deborah stuffed her fashion magazine under a seat cushion.

Alice came in before her grandparents, and I hugged her before I remembered I ought to introduce her all around. My parents welcomed the Bromleys cordially, and soon they all sat down over cups of tea and a plate of biscuits and cheese.

“You’re so kind to welcome this unexpected visit,” began the genteel and fragile Mrs. Bromley.

Daddy protested that the honor was all theirs, etc. Finally, after what seemed like a prolonged competition to see who could be the politest, Mr. and Mrs. Bromley managed to state their purpose.

“We’ve always been supporters of Miss Salamanca’s school,” said Mrs. Bromley.

“Because our daughter spent happy years there before her marriage,” added Mr. Bromley.

“Back when it was run by the present Miss Salamanca’s aunt,” Mrs. Bromley said. “And so, when our son and his wife passed, leaving Alice in our care—”

“—naturally, we thought of that dear old school, and no other, for our precious girl.” Mr. Bromley beamed at Alice.

“Alice is our son’s daughter,” explained Mrs. Bromley. “He and his dear wife succumbed to the influenza when Alice was very young.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” murmured my mother.

“How dreadful,” my father added.

“Thank you kindly.” Mrs. Bromley went on. “I only mean to say, that is, I mean, our daughter, Alice’s aunt, is alive and well, but Alice’s parents are not. Which is why we’re her guardians.”

“I see,” Daddy said.

“Crystal clear,” added Mother.

The elder Bromleys exchanged a look, then nodded to each other.

“But we have come to the conclusion—” Mrs. Bromley began.

Mr. Bromley chimed in. “…that tradition alone should not enslave the young.”

“And so,” went on Mrs. Bromley, “we have decided that for Alice’s good she should leave the school. She hasn’t been happy there.”

Mr. Bromley nodded. “Quite right. Aside from her friendship with your charming Maeve, of course.”

“Our charming Maeve,” repeated my mother, as waking slowly from an odd dream.

Mrs. Bromley took up the baton. “Alice will leave the school and be privately instructed at home, with excellent tutors.”

Mother smiled on cue. “How very suitable.”

Not to my mind, it wasn’t. The thought of being taught alone at home was only slightly less boring than sitting home alone with nothing to do. I looked at Alice to sympathize, but she was too busy grinning to notice.

“Of course, we wouldn’t wish our dear granddaughter to be lonely,” said Mr. Bromley.

“Certainly not,” said Mother.

Mr. Bromley nodded. “When we heard from Alice that your family had also removed your daughter from the school…” She paused.

“We did indeed,” my father said.

I coughed.

“We thought,” Mrs. Bromley said hopefully, “seeing how beautifully the girls get along with one another…”

I took a deep breath, and held it. Could it be?

“We wondered,” Mr. Bromley went on, “whether you might consider allowing Maeve to join us at our home and be educated with Alice?”

Mother and Father looked at each other. Mother’s mouth hung open.

“We realize it’s a great deal to ask, parting you from your darling girl,” Mrs. Bromley said apologetically. “We can arrange any visits you wish.”

“Oh, no,” my mother said quickly, “it’s not that—”

Dad put a hand on Mother’s. “We would miss her.”

“Please don’t give a moment’s thought to any expense, my dear lady,” urged Mr. Bromley. “You’d be doing us the utmost courtesy to allow us the pleasure of sharing our home with your daughter.”

Mother gulped. “No expense?”

“No expense will be spared in ensuring these girls receive the finest education to be had in London.” Mr. Bromley answered the question my mother had never thought to ask.

Mrs. Bromley watched the stunned looks on my parents’ faces. “I hope you don’t mind our coming here to propose this idea. I’m sure you’ll need time to think it over?” She rose.

My mother rose, too. “My dear Mrs. Bromley, it’s an offer too generous to refuse!”

Father rose also. “We should consult with Maeve, shouldn’t we?” He turned to me. “What do you think, Maeve?”

Alice’s hopeful face made me want to laugh. How could she even think I wouldn’t jump at this chance?

“Thank you, Father, Mother,” I said, and curtsied, in a rare moment of remembering the proper thing to do. “Mr. and Mrs. Bromley, I don’t know how to thank you for this offer. I think I would enjoy staying with you very much, and studying with Alice and her tutors.”

Alice clapped her hands. Mr. Bromley hoisted himself off his chair, beaming like a lamp, and shook hands with my father. My mother was all in a flutter, and could barely answer Mrs. Bromley’s questions about my care and keeping.

It was soon settled that I would return to the Bromleys’ home in four days’ time. Before they left, Alice came and spoke with me privately.

“I’ve told my grandparents about what you did for Tommy,” she said. “Of course, I had to fudge a bit around the djinni. But they know you got into trouble with the school for sticking up for him. They think it’s simply wonderful of you.”

I shrugged. I didn’t want to be praised, after all the trouble I’d caused. All the ways my friends could’ve been hurt even worse. The Persia trip. The Darvill House robbery, and Tommy’s run-in with the police. The malice of the sorcerer king. I hugged my arms tightly around my ribs. We were all lucky to be alive. I was grateful to be rid of Mermeros and Family for good.

“One thing puzzles me, though,” Alice said. “Why did you bargain with Mr. Poindexter for the djinni, instead of just giving him to Tommy?”

That had been my original plan, to be sure. I tried to think how to put into words how I felt.

“With Mermeros,” I said slowly, “Tommy could’ve wished himself out of the orphanage, away from the mills, and even into a life of wealth,” I told her. “But I doubt there’s anything Mermeros could’ve done to give Tommy a family.”

Alice squeezed my hand.

“My grandparents have promised we can go visit the Oddity Shop often.”

I gave her a hug. “It’s just the place for the three of us oddities.”

“Oh, Maeve,” Alice whispered. “Just think what fun we’ll have!”

I smiled. “I already am.”