‘So when I pass, let my kin rejoice from floor to rafter;
And know that I have come home, to the sweet hereafter.’
‘Lovely, Ivy,’ said Ezra quietly. ‘Just lovely.’
Victor Grimwig’s bedroom was small, but rather cheery. Soft afternoon sun drifted in through the picture window. A chest of drawers and a fine armchair sat along the back wall. A jug and basin on the side table. Victor lay in a single bed with the blankets pulled up to his chin, his three cats lying around him like cushions. He was putting on a marvellous show.
‘Mr Grimwig, may I ask what your malady is?’ said Mother Snagsby, drawing the curtains and bringing a cheerless gloom to the bedroom. ‘Your colour is remarkably healthy.’
‘He has an incurable head cold,’ I said quickly. ‘Isn’t that right, dear?’
Mr Grimwig coughed violently. ‘Oh yes, very true.’
‘Well done,’ I whispered. ‘If you could throw in the occasional exhausted shudder I think that extra discount would be guaranteed.’
‘I’ve taken a sleeping tonic,’ he replied in hushed tones, ‘to make it more convincing and such.’
‘Forgive me, Mr Grimwig,’ said Mother Snagsby as she retrieved a sample board from her bag with a series of brass, gold and silver handles fixed to it, ‘has your doctor given you any idea how much time you have left with us?’
‘Not long at all,’ I said with suitable regret. ‘Mr Grimwig’s doctor believes he will snuff it within the week. Hopefully sooner.’
‘I see.’ Mother Snagsby handed the board to Ezra and then asked Mr Grimwig if he would mind if she heated some milk.
‘Don’t see why not, though I’m not thirsty myself.’
As Mother Snagsby walked briskly from the room, Ezra ran through a list of options regarding Mr Grimwig’s coffin. In response Mr Grimwig selected the very cheapest fittings money could buy.
‘Didn’t I tell you things would work out splendidly?’ I said, fluffing his pillows with great care.
‘Now, Ivy, you let Mr Grimwig rest,’ said Ezra, taking the tape measure from around his neck. He pointed to the chair against the wall. ‘Mother Snagsby and I will finish things.’
I looked back at the door to ensure the old goat had not yet returned.
‘Ezra, how well do you know Miss Frost?’
After my conversation with Bertha, I could not get the tomato-headed governess out of my mind. Some great mischief was afoot if Miss Frost was involved! But I had been denied any opportunity to confront the Snagsbys with what I had learned – the carriage was already waiting to take us to Mr Grimwig’s when I arrived back from Estelle’s house.
‘Miss Frost?’ The tape measure slackened in his hands. ‘Well, she is an acquaintance of sorts … we don’t know her well at all.’
‘I don’t think that’s true, dear.’
Ezra shuffled around the bed and led me away from Mr Grimwig. ‘What makes you say such a thing, Ivy?’
‘Because I’m practically certain you know her far better than you will admit. I found a brush in my room full of red hair and I recently learned that Miss Frost was looking for Anastasia Radcliff a full year after she vanished. And I’m awfully curious about why she would be interested in a girl who was a lodger at your house?’
Ezra looked at Mr Grimwig. Then at the doorway. Then back at me. ‘When we get home, come and see me in the workshop.’ He scratched his whiskers and for once I found the gentle wobble of his cheeks rather horrid. ‘We can talk then and I’ll try and explain a thing or two.’
The heavy footsteps of Mother Snagsby broke the spell. She bustled in, clutching a glass of milk, and directed me to sit in the chair and stay out of mischief.
‘Here,’ she said, holding out the milk.
I sighed. Why on earth did she insist that I drink that dreary milk? It was the same every time. Milk, then sleep. Milk does that to people, I supposed. But I did not wish to sleep. I needed my wits about me, as I planned to lift the veil that very night and bring Rebecca home. I would break the glass and jump out of my bedroom window if I had to. Whatever it took to save my friend.
‘I’m not thirsty.’
‘Of course you are,’ came the firm reply, ‘take it.’
Compounding my misery, the Clock Diamond simply refused to cooperate. What use was it to have a mystical stone around my neck if it wasn’t any help in thoroughly mystical matters?
I took the glass of milk. ‘Very well, though I don’t see why.’
Mother Snagsby watched me take two mouthfuls. Then, satisfied, she went back to Victor’s bedside to discuss the delicate issue of payment. I did not finish the rest. It was true that I wasn’t in the least thirsty. But something else – a grim tightening in my stomach – told me not to drink it. Which was silly. Still, with Mother Snagsby trying to wake Mr Grimwig (he had nodded off ) and Ezra finishing up his measurements, I poured the remaining milk into Mr Grimwig’s left slipper.
It didn’t take long for the warmth to wash over me, but it was lighter than before. I willed my eyes to stay open. And they did … for a time. Then the room began to blur. The last thing I saw was Mother Snagsby walking towards me.
My mouth was dry. My head ached. Where was I? Oh yes, Mr Grimwig. I rubbed my temple, opened my eyes. Then closed them. As my vision cleared, I looked across the small chamber. Ezra and Mother Snagsby were on either side of the bed. Huddled around Mr Grimwig, who was sound asleep. They were talking to each other – or was it to Mr Grimwig? I could not make out what they were saying. Besides, that wasn’t what had captured my attention.
I reached to my chest. Felt for it rather frantically. Which was foolish. I knew perfectly well that it wasn’t there. How could it be? For Ezra was gently lifting Mr Grimwig’s head from the pillow and Mother Snagsby was fixing the Clock Diamond around his neck.