14

Rose, Effie and Rory sat on the Devil’s Steps at Rotherhithe. Below them, a seething, sullen Thames slapped against the river wall, as if it was trying to punish it. The river was choked with boats and barges, and although it was another sweltering day, a smoggy yellow haze lay over the city, and the smell from both the river and the nearby tannery was unpleasantly pungent. The girls were hot and tired after a fruitless afternoon spent knocking on the doors of lodging houses looking for Amy.

The day before, they had gone with the inspector and several policemen to Rotherhithe and shown the inspector the alleyway where they had dropped Amy off on the night the Doomstone was stolen. The police visited all the houses in the vicinity, but they had found no trace of anybody answering to either Amy’s name or description. The inspector seemed much more interested in Jem. But Rose found it difficult to believe that Jem – easily led, betting-mad, but essentially sweet-natured – was responsible for the crime of the century. She wasn’t at all convinced that quiet little Amy was responsible either, although her vanishing act seemed to suggest otherwise.

“It’s as if she’s disappeared off the face of the earth,” said Rory, unbuttoning her new boots – handmade by the look of them – to allow the air to get to her stockinged feet.

“The question is, why?” asked Rose.

“Maybe she thought the inspector was going to arrest her for stealing the Doomstone,” said Effie.

“Or maybe she was just unhappy and wanted to get away from Lydia,” said Aurora.

Rose examined her friend beadily. “Is Lydia unkind to her?”

“Not exactly unkind. Just dismissive and demanding.” She paused. “She is always delightful to Amy in front of Edward, but when he’s not around she sometimes loses her temper, and tells Amy that she’s stupid and knows nothing.” Rory spoke fiercely and looked straight ahead, not meeting Rose’s eye. Rose wondered whether Lydia’s unkindness extended to Rory when her father was not around.

“That’s how the rich behave to the poor,” said Effie gloomily. “Me mum always said never to go into service; they buy your labour but they want to own you body an’ soul.”

“Rory, have you told your father about how Lydia behaves towards Amy?” asked Rose.

“There’s no point,” said Aurora gruffly. “Lydia can do no wrong in his eyes.”

“Maybe you should open them for him?”

Aurora sighed. “It’s hard, Rosie. Edward and I are still getting to know each other. Sometimes he still feels more like a stranger to me than my father. I know he’s fond of me and I am of him. But we still don’t really know each other like a father and daughter who have known each other since the day a child is born. Sometimes I see him looking at me, and I wonder if he’s thinking whether there must have been a terrible mistake, and I’m not really his daughter.”

“Oh, Rory,” said Rose, squeezing Aurora’s hand. “I’ve seen Edward looking at you too, and it’s with wonder – wonder that he’s found the daughter who he thought was dead. And there can be no doubt that you are father and daughter – you are like two peas in a pod.” But she thought how hard it must be for Aurora. Everyone said that her story was like a fairy tale. But, thought Rose darkly, fairy tales always just ended abruptly with “they lived happily ever after” and it was much harder to negotiate and navigate a real-life happy ever after.

Rose stood up. “Shall we carry on?”

“Rosie, my feet are killing me,” said Aurora, “and I said I’d meet Edward at the Pall Mall at five. Why don’t you come? You can see Hamlet again with me. We’re wasting our time here. The police have already gone door to door, and if they couldn’t find Amy, why should we do any better? She’s obviously lied about where she was living, has covered her tracks and doesn’t want to be found. Maybe she did steal the Doomstone and she’s fled with it.”

Rose was tempted to go with Rory. But she shook her head and looked at Effie, who was apologetic.

“I can’t stay much longer either, Rosie. I’ve got to get back to Campion’s. I promised Mr Gandini I’d rehearse the new act with him.”

“What is it?” asked Rory curiously. Effie put a finger to her mouth to indicate her lips were sealed.

“But it’s going to be a real crowd-pleaser when it’s ready, which won’t be for a few days. If we can get it right, Thomas will have to extend Campion’s to meet the demand for tickets. Mr Gandini’s that confident about it.”

“Effie,” asked Rose, “why do you always call Gandini Mr Gandini? Nobody else does.”

“He deserves it,” said Effie. “He’s a real gent in every way. I really like him. He’s kind.”

Rose smiled, but her heart stuttered. Gandini wouldn’t stay at Campion’s forever. He would move on. Would Effie move on with him? Rose realised that she might be going to lose both Rory and Effie very soon. She’d be on her own again at Campion’s. The thought of them abandoning her made her forlorn.

“Well, I’m going to try a few more houses,” said Rose. “I’ll be back at Campion’s in time to see the Illustrious Gandini, the Great Wizard of the North, and his very charming assist—” She suddenly broke off.

“That’s it!” she said. “I knew something wasn’t quite right, the night we first met Lydia and Amy.”

“What weren’t right? Spit it out, Rosie.”

“Do you remember? We’d all gone down to the cabs ready to set off from the Pall Mall for Campion’s. We were just about to leave when Amy came rushing out.”

“Yes, Lydia had forgotten her,” said Effie, “an’ offered her a lift to her lodgings in Rotherhithe.” She suddenly looked excited. “She said it were by the river. But where we dropped her, and where the police were looking, was way back from here.”

“That’s right,” said Rose. “That’s clever of you, Effie. I had forgotten that. But there’s something more.”

Rory wrinkled her forehead, thinking. “Lydia suggested that Amy came with us all to Campion’s.”

“And what did Amy say?”

The others shrugged.

“I dunno,” said Effie. “Yes, please?”

Rose looked triumphant. “She said that she would like to come and see the Illustrious Gandini.”

Rory and Effie shrugged. “Why’s that significant?”

“Because nobody had mentioned Gandini, so how did she know he was performing?”

The others looked sceptical.

“Maybe she’d heard he was on the bill. Maybe she’d seen a poster? Maybe you misremembered – it was ages ago.”

“Perhaps, but I remembered thinking there was something odd at the time but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Listen, you go back. I’ll ask around a bit more, at the lodgings close to the river.”

Rose retraced her steps along the riverfront. She was too hot and she had found no trace of Amy. It was as if the girl had simply vanished, like a magician’s assistant in a conjuring act. She had tried all the houses with signs saying that they took lodgers along the riverfront, and she was walking in the direction of Campion’s. She had been silly to think that she could do better than the police. But she was worried about Amy. What if she had been beaten up like Jem? What if she had escaped with the Doomstone, and Jem, if he recovered, was going to end up taking the blame?

She walked past a small house. It was down at heel but the windows were clean, even if the shutters were in need of a lick of paint. There was no sign suggesting that the house took lodgers, but something caught her eye through the glass. A china duck sitting forlornly on the windowsill next to a pile of pebbles and shells, perhaps dusty mementoes of a long-ago seaside trip. It reminded her of how Amy had come alive when she had been talking about visiting Southend. Maybe she had come here, seen the display in the window and found lodgings here. It was worth a try.

Rose lifted the knocker and let it fall. A moment passed and then she heard footsteps and a woman’s weary voice telling a child to let go of her skirts. The door was pulled open and an exhausted-looking woman wearing an apron stood before her, tucking a wayward strand of hair into her cap with one hand while trying to soothe the infant over her shoulder with another. Two toddlers, obviously twins, peeped shyly from behind her skirts, one trailing a wooden soldier, the other a frayed blanket. The woman looked at Rose expectantly.

“I’ve come to see my sister. I’ve heard she’s lodging here. Amy.”

The woman shook her head. “There’s no Amy here. You’ve got the wrong place.”

“But you do take lodgers?” The woman nodded. “Maybe she’s calling herself something else. She looks about my age. But she’s younger. Reddish-gold hair, gooseberry-green eyes. Lanky. She’s got a mustard-yellow dress,” said Rose quickly.

The woman nodded. “Oh, you mean Melly. Least, that’s what she called herself. I don’t asks no questions, as long as them’s respectable, eats what I give ’em and pays the rent up front and don’t want too much hot water. I had one girl wanted a hot bath every week.” The woman looked outraged. “But Melly’s been easy enough. Keeps herself to herself. Shy little thing.” She peered more closely at Rose.

“You don’t look much alike for sisters.”

“I take after the other side of the family,” said Rose quickly. “Can I speak to Amy – er, Melly?”

The woman shook her head. “We’d all like to speak to her. Me included. Haven’t seen her for two days. She owes rent. I’ve known them skip before. They try and do a moonlight flit but they don’t realise I sleep with one ear open.”

“So she’s gone?” asked Rose.

“So it seems, but your sister ain’t like the others. She’s gone, but she’s not taken nothing with her. Not that she had much to take.”

Rose frowned. “Didn’t you think that something might have happened to her, something bad?”

The woman sighed. “Of course it crossed my mind. But it’s none of my business what the lodgers gets up to, as long as they pays their rent and don’t bring trouble knocking on my door. If they want to call themselves Amy or Melly or whatever, I’m easy. I’ve got enough to cope with keeping body and soul together since my Mick lost a leg down on the docks.”

“I’m sorry about your husband,” said Rose, “but I’m worried about Amy, I mean Melly. She’s missing. She hasn’t been seen at work either. It’s not like her.”

The woman looked guilty. “I don’t want you thinking I’ve got a heart of stone. It’s been hanging heavy on me. There’s summat not right. I was going to report it to the police if she didn’t come back tonight.” She sighed. “I like Melly. She’s good with the kiddies too. Sometimes she does magic tricks for them. Makes that sparkling blue bauble she’s got disappear in front of your eyes.”

Rose’s eyes widened and she coughed to disguise her surprise, but the woman didn’t notice.

“Blue bauble?”

“Yes, lovely sparkling thing. She said it was a Christmas tree decoration, pretty but worthless. My Mick said she could have done a magic act in one of them halls. Right little magician, she is.”

“Can I see her room?” asked Rose, trying to suppress her excitement.

The woman hesitated. “What if she comes back and I’ve been letting you rummage through her things?”

“Just a quick peek,” said Rose. “I’m her sister, I might notice if something is amiss.” She took some coins out of her pocket and held them out in her palm. “I could pay the rent she owes so you’re not out of pocket.”

A man’s feeble voice could be heard calling: “Lorrie! What’s keeping you, Lorrie?”

The woman glanced back with a worried frown, as one of the twins set up a wail and the baby began to bawl.

“Don’t think me heartless,” she said, “but we’ve all got to live.” And she scooped the coins out of Rose’s palm and nodded up the narrow stairs.

“Two flights up, then the door on the left. It’s not locked. Not that you’ll find much. I poked my head in and it’s neat as a pin, just as it always was. Couldn’t see the bauble, mind, and that often sat on the top of the chest of drawers. Call when you’re leaving.”

Rose stepped inside Amy’s room. The woman was right – Amy didn’t have much to her name. There was something about the room that reminded Rose of a stage set, as if it was a space that had been carefully arranged and was holding its breath waiting for something to happen. It was scrupulously neat. Nothing was out of place. Two dresses hung forlornly from a rail next to a coat, good quality but worn. The mustard-yellow dress was missing. In a drawer she found some neatly folded undergarments. She pulled up the cheap paper that had been used to line the drawer. Underneath was a copy of The Times, with the front-page story telling of the night at Campion’s when the Doomstone went missing and rehashing the story of the curse. The bit about the curse had been underlined in thick black ink. It was the only thing that connected Amy, or Melly, to the room at all. It was as if she hadn’t lived here but had merely existed. Rose saw the corner of something that had slipped down the back of the drawer. She pulled it out. It was a seaside scene of little fishermen’s cottages drawn in charcoal.

The small, narrow bed was neatly made. A wooden doll sat propped up on the pillow. There was something about the doll, with her out-of-proportion legs and green eyes, that Rose found heart-breaking, as if what she was looking at was Amy herself. She picked up the doll and underneath there was a small folded piece of paper. She unfolded the paper. There were just a few lines written in blue ink.

“Forgive me for causing such trouble. There is nobody to miss me. I am all alone in the world. I made a mistake and I can’t live with myself. I stole the Doomstone. Chance gave me the opportunity and the means, and I gave in to temptation on a whim, but it has been the doom of me. I cannot eat and I dare not go to sleep. I cannot go on. I’m cursed. The Doomstone is an evil thing. All I can do to atone for my crime is to rid the world of both it and myself. May God forgive me my sins. Amy.”

Rose put her hand over her mouth and tears filled her eyes. She rushed down the stairs shouting, “Missus! Missus!” The woman looked up with anxious eyes.

“We must fetch the police,” said Rose, and she held out the note to the woman. “Something terrible has happened to Amy.”