I ran down the gravel path from the chapel and I carried on past the station, stumbling along pathways and through rows of pale carved stones and quivering spear-shaped trees. I didn’t know where I was going. I was running blind.
I was grateful for the ache beneath my bodice as I fought to fill my lungs and for the stab of the blisters on my feet. They pushed the other pain from my head. At one point I tripped over a fallen stone hidden by ferns and crashed forward, warding off the jagged edge of a monument with my hands. Screaming tears opened in the lace of my gloves. I pulled them off, cast them aside and carried on.
At last I came to a place so dark and silent that I couldn’t even hear a bird. It was a long while since this part of the cemetery had seen a gardener. Stone angels, their faces worn blank by weather and indifference, sprouted from clumps of nettles, and brambles scrabbled at the sides of marble buildings set at respectful intervals in what must once have been a lawn. Even so, the houses of the dead were a good deal grander than the houses of most of the living where I came from.
I stepped, panting, into a shadowed circular space and turned about slowly, staring down each of the tomb-lined pathways fanning out around me. There were twelve of them, one for each hour. I caught my breath as a dark shape slipped across an avenue, but then I saw it was the shadow of a tree moving in the breeze. I looked up into the oval window of grey overhead and felt the first drops of rain on my skin.
If I stood there long enough, perhaps it would wear me away like the faces of all them angels? I wouldn’t have minded. If the rain could wash away the thoughts going through my head I would have stood there for a thousand years. Of an instant, the pain started up across my forehead. The world shattered into two halves divided by a wavering line that sparked and shimmered.
I crumpled to the steps leading up to a little plinth set with a sundial. I ripped off my bonnet and threw it down to the mossy gravel. After a moment, the breeze, which had sharpened to something with a bite, snatched at the spotted net and carried it off down one of the avenues. My eyes burned as I watched that bonnet, the fractured double version of it, roll and bump along the path.
It wasn’t true what Kite said. I couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible.
The bonnet skittered up against a marble wall and lodged between some metal railings. The ribbons, multiplied by the fault in my eyes, flailed like the legs of a great black spider.
When they tested our grandmother, they took her daughter.
Joey’s words came again, but now I heard a different story in them. I thought of that nightmare – the way I fought to breathe as the stench of Lord Fetch pressed against me. And I thought of him and Ma.
‘No.’
At first it was a strangled whisper, but I said it again and again to make it true, ripping at the beads around my throat to let the air into my lungs. Somewhere between the tenth and the twentieth denial it became a scream.
It was the rain that brought me back. That and Telferman’s voice.
I pushed the sodden strands of hair away from my eyes and watched the Beetle scurry towards me along the tree-lined avenue. He was doubled beneath an umbrella that bucked in the wind. He called again and raised a hand as if he thought I might bolt. I turned the little pistol about in my hand and waited for him to draw level.
‘Where have you been, Lady? I have searched everywhere. We were forced to inter her without you.’
‘We?’ I stared up at him. The pain was fading now and the crack in my sight was nothing more than a ripple to the right.
The Beetle frowned. ‘The clerk-custodian, the chaplain and myself. When we arrived at the chapel you were not there.’
‘But who else was there?’
He blinked behind his spectacles and shook his head. ‘The casket was ready, but the pallbearers had gone.’
‘I didn’t mean the pallbearers.’ The hem of my dress flew up around my ankles. I drew up my knees and linked my hands around them. I pushed the pistol into the folds of the material to hide it.
‘She was alone. We waited for some time, but when you did not return the chaplain insisted that the service should go ahead. I was the only person with her. The clerk – Roberts – went to gather the pallbearers and the hearse for the transfer.’
Kite told me to be wary of those around me. I looked up at the Beetle and felt the rain sliding down my face.
‘Here. You must allow me.’ He stepped closer to shield me with the umbrella. If he wondered where my bonnet was, he didn’t mention it.
‘You are wet through. I did not think that you would be so … affected, Lady. Forgive me …’
For once the smell of old naphtha rising from his cloth had a comfort to it. Marcus Telferman was my man, now, to his marrow. I was sure of it.
‘Roberts is a fool. When we reached his office the paperwork was quite in order. He had merely mislaid a sheet. The mistake was his entirely. It was most irritating.’
He rustled about in his pocket for that fob of his. Careful to keep it dry he brought it close to his eyes.
‘I am sorry, Lady. There will not be time to visit her mausoleum. The train leaves in less than a half. We are some way from the South Terminus.’
I sat up. ‘Is that the only way back?’
Telferman nodded.
‘Then I’m not going.’
He patted his pocket and shifted his spectacles to see me better. ‘We will be the only party on the train. It is, was, a benefit of early investment. I believe there may have been one other funeral here today, but I saw the mourners depart in their carriages from the Pine Avenue Gate when I accompanied your grandmother’s casket along to the Western Avenue. It was a large group. Roberts was with them by then. I can only hope he gave them better service.’
I stood up. Crystals of rain scattered from my skirt and Lucca’s pistol tumbled to the gravel. I was lucky it didn’t go off again. I glanced at the Beetle, who was looking at the pistol. His eyebrows were drawn so tight together the hairs might have tangled themselves in a knot.
I opened my bag and reached down. I stowed the pistol inside and snapped it shut.
‘I think he did, Mr Telferman. I reckon Mr Roberts gave them the service they wanted.’
The Beetle was right, we were the only people on the train.
Even though I believed him, I was careful to check. Huddled beneath his black umbrella we walked the length of the platform three times to make certain. The last time, the driver and the fireman leaned out from the cab and watched like we was a couple of Bedlams out for a stroll.
Telferman didn’t question why I wanted to make sure we were alone. Fact is, he hadn’t said much since he clapped eyes on the pistol.
With less than a minute to go I allowed him to open the door to our compartment. He stood aside to let me go first. It was comfortable in there, you might even call it luxurious. A single gas lamp set between the mirrors above the empty seats opposite ours was already lit against the sudden gloom of the day. It was Nanny Peck’s belief that summer rainclouds cast a darkness deeper than the winter variety. Looking out of the window at the drab platform it came to me she was right.
At 2.15 sharp the whistle blew and we moved slowly out of the station. I watched the rows of stones and monuments through trails of water sliding down the window.
He is amongst us. He is amongst us. He is amongst us …
The sound of the engine took up the words going round and round in my head. I shut my eyes, bent forward and covered my ears with my hands to stop the noise.
I felt Telferman’s hand on my arm and looked up.
‘We must discuss the Aestas session, Lady. Your parable must be ready.’ He sat back. ‘Today is perhaps not the day, but …’
‘No.’ I pulled up straight. ‘As you say, today is perhaps not the day. And neither is the day after that or the day after that. You can number all the days from here to the end of time, but I’ll never go among them again. After today, I’m not a Baron any more.’
The Beetle shifted uncertainly. The train rolled to the side as it veered left and he gripped the padded arm of his seat.
‘You do not understand, Lady Linnet. As I explained, you cannot—’
I stopped him. ‘I can do what I bleedin’ like.’
Tell truth, I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I knew this. ‘And I’m not Lady Linnet, I’m Kitty Peck – and that’s an end to the matter.’ I turned away to the window. I felt his eyes boring into my back, but I didn’t look at him.
I stared at the girl reflected in the glass and I couldn’t tell the rain from the tears on her cheeks.
The train began to slow and then it juddered to a halt. I rubbed the mist from the window and peered through the steam. It wasn’t London out there. We were in the middle of a sloping field. There were cows sitting beneath a tree at the far end.
‘I thought you said the train didn’t stop anywhere?’ I looked at the Beetle now. He was fiddling at his nails. We’d been sitting in silence for the last quarter.
‘It does not.’
‘What’s this, then?’
He glanced at the smeared window. ‘Perhaps we are taking on water. That seems most likely, Lad … Miss Peck.’
Of an instant, the door to the compartment opened and the steps rolled down. My hand flew to my bag as a man wearing a tall hat climbed into view.
He hauled himself up the steps into the compartment and flung his hat onto the seat opposite before turning to me.
‘Good day, Lady Linnet. May I offer my condolence for your recent loss.’
Lord Vellum pushed a lick of dark hair back from his forehead. He adjusted the tails of his black coat and sat down.
‘And this must be your lawyer, Marcus Telferman, of Pearl Street. Would you leave us, please?’ He gestured to the door. ‘One of the men will help you down.’
I span back to the window. There were four men standing alongside the track below. I didn’t recognise them. One of them tipped his cap. I pushed my hand into the bag on my lap and worked my fingers round the ivory handle of the pistol.
Vellum pushed the door wider. ‘If you would leave us, please, Mr Telferman. I have taken the liberty of making arrangements for your onward journey. You will not be harmed. You have my word.’
I stood up, clutching the bag close.
‘Pacta sunt servanda – is that it? The word of one Baron to another?’ I heard the Beetle swallow. ‘They’ve sent you to finish off today’s business, have they? Why don’t you take this back as my answer?’
I pointed the pistol in the bag at the roof of the carriage and pulled the trigger. The power of the blast threw me back into the seat, but I managed to right myself and keep hold.
‘I’m not scared of you – any of you. It’s you who should fear me. I’m not going to play by your rules. Sling it.’ I motioned the pistol to the doorway. Its silver barrel poked out now through a scorched hole in the velvet.
Lord Vellum smiled. ‘Another bravura performance. That is exactly why I want to speak to you … alone, if I may. Mr Telferman?’ He raised a grey-gloved hand and pointed to the door.
‘He’s not going anywhere. I’ve got another four bullets. That’s one for you and three of your men out there.’
Lord Vellum leaned back and folded his arms. ‘I have four officers outside and another four waiting in the coaches in the lane – all of them armed. You may keep your gun, Lady Linnet, if it makes you feel safe in my company, but I would appreciate it if Mr Telferman left us while we continue à deux to London. I do not think it is a matter of choice, but I would prefer to act as a gentleman. I would offer that hollow Latin phrase, but the word of one Baron to another is worthless in this instance.’
He flicked at some invisible speck on his black sleeves and I saw the gleam of his gold studs.
‘I am not a Baron, Lady Linnet. That is precisely what I wish to discuss with you.’