Already we’d learned a thing or two about the mysterious Mr Walton. Yet we’d still not done what we’d come here to do.
‘I’m going to knock on his door and give back his button,’ I said. ‘And then, since he didn’t answer me the other day, I’ll ask him what he was doing in the churchyard.’ For though the stuffed dead dog showed a softer side to Mr Walton, I still didn’t believe Da’s suggestion, that he’d been there to pay us his respects.
Walking the last stretch of driveway, I held tightly onto Mercy’s arm. I’d never knocked on such a grand front door before, and it made my stomach flutter with nerves. Yet no one stopped us to ask our business. The place was eerily silent.
‘Where’s everyone gone?’ Mercy said. Then, when we’d nearly reached the steps she gasped, ‘Oh!’
A flurry of footsteps rushed towards us. I heard a thud, a crunch as something – or someone – sank onto the gravel.
‘Oh my word!’ Mercy cried. ‘It’s Peg!’
I stopped in my tracks. ‘Peg?’
It completely threw me.
‘What the heck are you doing here? Why aren’t you with Da? And mind out,’ I added. ‘There’s broken glass all across the driveway.’
Peg didn’t get the chance to explain herself. More footsteps pounded towards us. Then came a man’s voice, terrifyingly angry. ‘Put that down at once, you little heller!’
Another man joined in. ‘If you don’t drop that this minute, I’ll …’
There were thuds and grunts and Peg shouting, ‘Ouch! Get off me!’
It was too much.
‘Let go of my sister this minute!’ I yelled, rushing towards their voices. But the ground suddenly dipped. My ankle turned sideways and I fell down with a thump.
‘Oh Lord, there’s another girl!’ The man sounded close. ‘And another one behind her, look!’
They meant Mercy, I guessed, who was now beside me.
‘Get up!’ she hissed, heaving on my arm.
I staggered to my feet.
‘So much for keeping this a secret. It’ll be round the village in no time!’ said the other man, and to us, ‘Snooping about, are you, girls? Then you’d best turn round and disappear. Sharpish.’
‘Not until you let my sister go,’ I said.
‘Gladly,’ said the man. ‘Take her home and don’t come back.’
I expected Peg to rush towards me; she didn’t.
‘He’s let her go,’ Mercy whispered. ‘But she’s clinging to that stuffed dog creature.’
‘Peg,’ I said through gritted teeth. ‘You’ve to come immediately.’
‘It’s not right what they’ve done to this dog,’ she wailed. ‘A pet deserves a burial, don’t it?’
‘That’s no one’s pet!’ the man sneered.
Mercy whistled under her breath. ‘I’ve never seen a dog that big before!’
As we moved nearer to Peg, broken glass crunched underfoot. In the grey daylight, the men appeared as vague, wide shadows.
‘Peg,’ I said. ‘Come here, please.’
‘I don’t reckon she’s going to let it go,’ Mercy muttered.
I’d had enough. So too, it seemed, had the men.
‘You break that animal, girl, and I’ll break you!’ one man said.
‘Grab it from her,’ said the other.
Someone gasped. Groaned. I rushed forward, dragging Mercy with me. A boot caught my kneecap. Fists whizzed past my ear. All around me bodies heaved: one of them was Peg’s. Grabbing and snatching, I felt hair, shirt sleeves, fingers. And the dry, coarse fur of that enormous dead dog. When, at last, I touched a thin shoulder, I grabbed it with all my might.
‘No!’ squealed Peg. ‘Let me alone!’
‘Fat chance,’ I said. ‘You’re coming with me.’
I wrapped my arms tight around her wriggling middle. More shouts came. More flying fists. Mercy yanked my sleeve. It caught me off balance. My feet somehow tangled in her skirts and we fell together in a heap – Mercy, me and Peg still squirming in my arms. Where that stuffed dog was now I’d no idea. But she’d clearly let go of it at last.
To our right, a door creaked open. Someone came out. Their boots went clippety-clip down the steps. Then stopped.
‘What THE DEVIL is going on here?’ a new voice said.
‘Crikey,’ Peg whispered, slipping her hand into mine. ‘It’s the scientist man.’
‘Bit late to be scared now,’ I replied. In truth, I was cringing with embarrassment. This really wasn’t going to plan.
‘Mr Walton, sir.’ One of the men addressed him. ‘We’ve had a little incident …’
‘Quiet, Jeffers!’ Mr Walton snapped. ‘Clear that glass up. And take the animal inside. I trust the other one is safe?’
‘Yes, s-s-sir … he’s already in the stable block, as requested. He came in with the previous cartload.’
‘Good,’ Mr Walton muttered. ‘We can’t afford any more mistakes.’
I supposed he meant the glass cases, which would be expensive to replace. Though why anyone would keep a stuffed dog in a stable I didn’t know.
The daylight darkened as a shadow loomed over me.
‘Ah, Miss Appleby,’ Mr Walton said, speaking as if his teeth were clenched. ‘And what, pray, brings you here?’ He was struggling to stay polite – and he wasn’t the only one pretending. Chin up, shoulders squared, I tried my best to seem brave.
‘The other day, sir, we saw you at my mother’s grave. Did you know her somehow? Only I wondered why you were there,’ I said.
‘Your mother’s grave?’ He gave a short, irritable laugh. ‘You’re mistaken.’
‘No, sir. There aren’t many in Sweepfield who look like you.’
‘I assure you, child, it most certainly wasn’t me. Perhaps you should be on your way.’
But I wasn’t about to be so readily dismissed, not when I knew he was lying.
‘After you’d gone I found this button in the grass and I believe it’s yours, sir.’ My fingers shook as I dug deep into my pocket. In the corners, I found breadcrumbs and bits of hay. The button, however, had vanished.
Instinctively, I glanced down, thinking it must’ve fallen out when I’d wrestled Peg. All I saw was dark, fuzzy grey: I’d never find a brass button. Nor would Peg or Mercy who could actually see, not on a gravel driveway. And not with Mr Walton breathing down our necks.
‘So where is this button?’ he demanded.
‘It appears …’ I cleared my throat, ‘… that I’ve dropped it. I had it though, I swear.’
‘She did. I saw it too,’ Mercy chipped in.
I sensed Mr Walton’s attention fixed on me. ‘Miss Appleby. I’m at a loss as to why you came here.’
‘To give back your button, sir. And to ask why you were in the churchyard.’
‘Yet there is no button, and I’ve given you my word that I wasn’t in the churchyard, so you’re clearly wasting your time.’
I didn’t agree. After all, I’d witnessed his cart being unloaded and a whole pig disappearing down a side path to who knew where. Mr Walton, it seemed, was a strange man with strange habits. My suspicions about him were growing.
‘I have work to do, so if you’d care to leave,’ he said.
Sensing he’d moved closer, I stepped back.
‘And in case you’re planning any more visits,’ his voice became low and threatening, ‘I’ll remind you that what goes on at this house is nobody’s business. It’s private, secret work. And you …’ He seemed to be addressing Peg. ‘If that animal is damaged in any way, you’ll pay for it, understand?’
Pulling Peg to me, I crossed my arms firmly over her chest.
‘My sister meant no harm, sir,’ I said. ‘There’s no need to frighten her.’ I was feeling distinctly uneasy myself.
‘Do you know what that animal is, Miss Appleby?’
‘Why, ’tis a big dog.’
He gave another short, bad-tempered laugh. ‘Indeed, it is a big dog. And if it comes to any harm …’
‘But it’s dead,’ I interrupted. ‘What harm can come to it?’
Maybe Mercy saw the look on his face, for she started plucking at my sleeve.
‘We’ll be on our way now. Good day,’ she said.
It was too late. From the direction of the front door came more footsteps. Then another voice, one I knew very well. I should’ve realised: if Peg was at Eden Court, it was because Da was here somewhere too.
‘Mr Walton, I’ve one more question regarding the workbench. Will you be wanting …’ Da stopped.
I imagined how it must look to him – the broken glass, the smashed case, Jeffers the servant frantically trying to clear the mess. And us – Peg, me, Mercy – all being dressed down by the man who paid Da’s wages.
‘I didn’t mean to run off, Da!’ cried Peg. ‘You told me to wait out in the yard, I know. But then the cart pulled up and I only wanted a quick look.’
Though she strained to get free and run to him, I held her fast. She couldn’t worm her way out of this one.
*
Pa marched us home without a single word. The silence between us bristled like that dead dog’s fur. As we went back along the Netherton road, Mercy whispered that people were staring at us. It did nothing to improve my spirits.
Once we were back inside our house with the door firmly shut and Mercy sent home, Da properly let rip.
‘You pair of idiots! What d’you think you were doing?’
Neither of us answered.
‘Well, I s’pect Mr Walton won’t want my services any more, thanks to you both.’
‘But Da,’ I said. ‘We only—’
He slammed his fist down on the table. ‘Quiet! I’m ashamed of you, d’you hear me?’
Peg started to cry. For once, no one comforted her.
It struck me how different he sounded. How bitter and angry. Everything he said to us these days seemed to be in this same tone.
‘Peg, I told you to wait outside while I spoke to Mr Walton. But Lizzie, what the heck were you doing there?’ Da asked.
I kept my gaze down. Whatever I said was going to sound stupid. ‘Umm … I wanted to ask Mr Walton … something.’
‘This isn’t about the graveyard again, is it?’
I shrugged. ‘Maybe.’
‘For goodness’ sake, the man’s entitled to go out in public, isn’t he?’
‘Well, he gives me the shivers,’ I muttered.
‘Mr Walton is doing important scientific work. He’s trying to find new and exciting uses for electricity. It’s truly remarkable what he’s on the brink of discovering, so just think of that rather than reasons to dislike a man you barely know.’
‘Electricity? How?’ I couldn’t hide my interest. ‘Like that other scientist who discovered it could light up a lamp or something?’
‘Exactly. Though Mr Walton says his research will take things much, much further. He’s got big plans, you know. One day, when he’s a world-famous scientist, we’ll all be proud to have him as our neighbour.’
I wasn’t sure about this last part. Even so, I was intrigued. What exactly was Mr Walton doing at Eden Court? What made his work so top secret, and so certain to win him worldwide fame?
‘The man’s a genius, Lizzie – a genius who pays my wages. It doesn’t much matter what you think of him,’ Da said. ‘So just watch yourself, all right?’
Which, as a girl blinded by lightning, was easier said than done.