My escape was of the daring and death-defying variety. The house was swarming with orderlies from Lashwood and a constable or two. Clearly, when Estelle went to fetch a nightdress for me, she had sent word to the asylum. Or the police. Probably both.
They came charging up the main stairs, following Estelle’s wicked cries for help. Being breathtakingly canny, I took the servants’ stairs at the back. Came out by the kitchen door. I could hear a cook shrieking that she wasn’t hiding a fugitive in her larder.
I picked up a vase from a gilded table and threw it down the hallway, where it shattered against the far wall. This set them all into action. I hid around the corner as they spilled out of the kitchen, while others came rushing down the back stairs – all of them charging off in the direction of the broken vase.
Then I burst into the kitchen, sidestepped the cook, leapt over a toppled chair and charged out of the back door. The cook, being a jolly good sport, didn’t even sound the alarm.
Highgate was wonderfully deserted. The plump quarter-moon had vanished – probably behind a cloud – the sky capping the city like a black shroud. I didn’t slow until I was six or seven streets away, turning into Crumble Avenue and walking in the shadow of a fine apartment building.
There was so much in my head, I simply didn’t have room for it all. It churned with such fury that I couldn’t hold a thought for more than a moment or two. But the silence was rather soothing. So soothing that I didn’t sense the figure darting out from the shadows. Or their hands reaching for me. I was yanked from the footpath and thrust into a doorway.
‘You are a hard person to catch, Miss Pocket.’
‘Miss Frost!’ I cried.
‘Hush,’ she whispered firmly, ‘we do not wish to wake the whole of Highgate.’
The Mistress of the Clock began to remove her black gloves. She was just as I remembered her. Dark dress. Freckled face. Flaming red hair. ‘You need a bath,’ she said, looking me up and down.
‘How did you find me?’
‘With some difficulty,’ came the tart reply. ‘I tried to intercept you when you first broke out of Lashwood, but you seemed rather more interested in leaping on to the back of a carriage.’
‘That was you?’
She nodded. ‘I called to you, but apparently the carriage wheels obscured my voice.’
I was frowning now. ‘If you knew I was being kept prisoner in Lashwood, why did you not get me out?’
Miss Frost smiled faintly. ‘I have kept as close an eye on you as was possible – and to be frank, as unpleasant as Lady Elizabeth’s revenge was, in some ways you were safer in there.’ She glanced up and down the empty street. ‘Miss Always has led me on a wild goose chase – she is up to something, though I am yet to discover the particulars.’
It was hard to deny that, despite everything, I was rather delighted to see Miss Frost. But then I remembered the Snagsbys and Anastasia, not to mention Rebecca, and my heart hardened. There was so much to say. Naturally, I began with a firm scolding.
‘You sent me to the Snagsbys knowing they would start using the Clock Diamond again, didn’t you?’
‘I knew it was a distinct possibility.’
‘How could you do such a thing?’
‘The Snagsbys deal with people at the end of their journey here in this world,’ she explained coolly. ‘Who better to use the stone? The Clock Diamond’s work, though unpleasant, is of the utmost importance.’
‘It is murder! Mr Grimwig would have been next and he was perfectly healthy!’
‘Do stop shouting, Miss Pocket,’ was her calm reply. ‘It is most unbecoming and is likely to attract the attention of the gentlemen currently combing the streets looking for you.’
‘The Snagsbys are nutters,’ I said, lowering my voice, ‘murderous nutters. Now that they have the stone all to themselves, they will kill half of London before they’re done.’
‘What a feverish imagination you have.’
Then Miss Frost did the most remarkable thing. She reached into the sleeve of her dress and pulled out the Clock Diamond. Fixed it around my neck and tucked it under my dress. The stone began to glow like a lantern, warming against my skin. Its pulse was urgent, but within moments had slowed to match my heartbeat.
‘I suppose you had to kill them for it?’
Miss Frost rolled her eyes. ‘We discussed the matter like mature adults and after some persuasion, they relinquished the necklace.’
‘You should never have given it to them in the first place,’ I snapped.
‘Shortly after I began my tenure as Mistress of the Clock, I was able to retrieve the necklace from a rather unpleasant fellow in Istanbul. As my time in your world is rather limited, I needed a collaborator, someone who would use the stone in the most ethical way.’
I huffed. Scowled. Gave every indication that I violently disagreed.
‘I searched all of the places that might have access to the old and the sick – hospitals, funeral parlours, poorhouses – and came upon the Snagsbys.’
‘But how could they be so willing to kill?’ I said, shaking my head.
‘The Snagsbys couldn’t give their daughter a second chance, but they knew that for every soul they captured here, a hundred would be cured of The Shadow in my world.’ Miss Frost placed her finger under my chin and lifted it. ‘This plague of which I speak is a horror that I cannot describe, and children are particularly vulnerable.’
‘But what of the children from this world?’ I pushed her hand away. ‘I have seen Rebecca – why must she suffer so that children from Prospa can live?’
‘Rebecca chose her fate,’ came the heartless reply.
‘What are they doing to her in that ghastly place?’
‘Once a soul crosses into Prospa their very touch has great healing power,’ said Miss Frost, her gaze slipping from mine as she searched for the right words. ‘We call them Remedies and they are treated with the greatest reverence, but this new life comes with conditions and I freely admit that there is a cost.’
‘Well, the cost is too great, you cold-blooded fruitcake. Rebecca has the look of someone haunted, and poor Mr Blackhorn seems to be fading away.’
The Mistress of the Clock nodded her head soberly. ‘A Remedy’s healing power is not infinite – eventually it wears out.’
‘Which is just a nice way of saying they die all over again.’
‘They fade,’ said Miss Frost softly, ‘they fade away. I wish there was another way to help my people, but there is not.’
I desperately wanted to hate Miss Frost. Or at the very least, stomp on her foot. But I couldn’t. I may not have agreed with her methods, but I could see that she used the Clock Diamond reluctantly and that she understood the awful price.
‘Come,’ said Miss Frost.
We walked swiftly along the street, taking refuge around the side of a stately mansion. Moments later a pair of orderlies from Lashwood hurried past without spotting us. Miss Frost was peering into the night with a great deal of interest.
‘Your new friend, Miss Dumbleby, will have the entire city looking for you by morning.’
‘They cannot lock me up again,’ I whispered firmly. ‘I’m not bonkers.’
‘You, Miss Pocket? Never.’ But there was mirth in her voice. Horrible dingbat!
The mention of Estelle’s name brought the horror of what her family had done rushing back. I looked hard at Miss Frost. ‘I know that Anastasia Radcliff came from your world. What I don’t know is how.’
For the first time the former governess appeared to falter. Finally, she said, ‘Anastasia was my friend – a younger sister, you might say. Her mother is someone of high rank in Prospa and Anastasia’s life was mapped out for her. I suppose she yearned for the freedom of a simpler life, where she was able to choose her own destiny.’
‘You helped her cross, didn’t you?’
She nodded. ‘Anastasia only asked for three months – three months to live as an ordinary young woman in London.’ Miss Frost sighed and it was plump with regret. ‘So I arranged for her to stay with the Snagsbys and fulfil her wish.’
I knew the next part well enough. ‘She fell in love with Sebastian and told him the truth about where she was from.’
‘Correct. When Anastasia returned home, Sebastian was heartbroken – he went to the Snagsbys and pretended to be interested in the necklace, asking to see it. Foolishly they agreed and when Sebastian saw it he –’
‘He put it on, just like Rebecca,’ I said softly.
‘Sebastian knew it was the only way he would see Anastasia again.’ She cleared her throat. ‘Against great odds they found each other in Prospa and were married in secret, though Sebastian met the same fate as all others who used the stone. Anastasia found out she was to have a baby and, fearing that her mother would do something unspeakable to the unborn child, she crossed back to this world without telling a soul.’
‘Which is when you came looking for her.’
‘Tell me, Miss Pocket,’ said the grim Mistress of the Clock, her eyes still trained on the street, ‘what did you learn about Anastasia? Do you know where she and her child fled to?’
I did not answer her. For Miss Frost grabbed the side of her neck suddenly. Pulled from it a small silver dart. Then fell to her knees.
I crouched beside her. ‘What should I do, dear?’
‘Leave,’ she said, and her voice was horridly pained.
‘I won’t.’
With what strength Miss Frost had left she pulled me close. ‘The Rambler Inn in Hammersmith,’ she whispered, ‘go there.’
Then she slumped to the ground in a heap.
It felt treacherous leaving her lying there. The victim of a poisoned dart. I ran out into the street, fearing a similar fate to Miss Frost. Was poison not fatal? It certainly was in every high quality penny dreadful I had ever read. I charged through the gloomy streets of Highgate as if I were in a race for my life. Which was true enough.
My legs picked up speed as I dashed around a passing carriage and practically flew up on to the footpath. I ploughed on, darting through a rabbit warren of streets; not at all sure if I was still in Highgate. I quickly decided to wait at the London Library until morning and seek Miss Carnage’s assistance. Coming to the end of the path, I turned the corner sharply, running straight into something. No, someone.
He pulled me up by the arms.
‘Well, well, what have we here?’ He was dressed in the same black and white uniform worn by all the orderlies at Lashwood.
At which point I kicked his shin and whacked him in the stomach. He both doubled over and hopped about. Which is difficult to achieve. Then I ran for my life. The orderly blew his whistle and sprinted after me. I charged across the street, fast running out of breath.
‘You won’t get away!’ He sounded within striking distance.
I swerved, changing direction. Began running down the middle of the road. I heard carriage wheels rumbling in the distance. As I got to the crossroads at the far end, my legs quickly turning to jelly, a carriage roared in front of me. And stopped.
The door flew open and a woman stuck her head out. ‘Hurry, Ivy!’
It was Miss Carnage!
‘Stop her!’ The orderly was a shadow’s length from me now. ‘She’s a runner from Lashwood!’
I jumped. Flew through the air in glorious style. And tumbled into the carriage. The driver whipped the horses eagerly and they took off, leaving the orderly shouting gibberish and throwing his whistle upon the road.
‘Oh, Ivy, are you all right?’ Miss Carnage looked at me from across the cab in horror. ‘Whatever has happened to you?’
I took a few frantic breaths. ‘Locked in a madhouse, dear.’
‘You poor girl – are you hurt?’
‘Not me, dear. Strong as an ox.’
The dreary librarian was beside herself. I’m almost certain she hadn’t had this much nervous excitement since she read Jane Eyre. Which raised an interesting question.
‘What are you doing here, Miss Carnage?’
Thick layers of shadow lay in patches inside the carriage. Every time we hit a pothole and Miss Carnage jolted back, her face would vanish as if she were a headless ghost.
‘I have been looking for you, Ivy,’ she said, and her soft voice was feather light. ‘I used your library card details to find your address, and went to see your parents. At first your mother denied even knowing you, then she said you were no longer welcome in her home.’
Which was to be expected. And not even a tiny bit hurtful.
I turned and looked out of the back window. ‘Can we tell the driver to turn around?’ I said. ‘I must see if Miss Frost is all right.’
‘Who is Miss Frost?’
‘A friend … well, I think she’s a friend, it’s hard to be sure. But she’s been hurt – a poisoned dart, no less.’
The driver whipped the horses again and their stride increased. But I wasn’t looking out of the window any more. I was looking at Miss Carnage.
She smiled but there was coldness in it. ‘Something wrong, Ivy?’
Yes, something was wrong. I just didn’t know what exactly.
‘How did you know where I was?’ I asked.
Miss Carnage sighed. ‘A friend told me.’
‘Who? Who told you?’
The librarian licked her lips. She sighed again and leaned back against the seat, her head slipping behind the veil of shadows.
‘I think we are much alike, Ivy, you and I – all alone in the world and trying to find our way.’
Miss Carnage’s hand flew to her face, vanishing in the gloom. When it emerged, her fingers clasped a nose. Yes, a nose! It was shockingly bent. And unmistakably hers.
I gasped. ‘What are you doing, Miss Carnage?’
Her other hand lifted to her face. Then emerged from the shadows holding a set of large teeth. Next, a monstrous chin. These hideous pieces of her face were dropped in her lap as if they were hairpins. Next, her thick glasses were removed and set aside. She fished out another pair and appeared to put them on.
‘Miss Carnage, are you falling apart? If so, I suggest we go to the nearest hospital.’
She sat forward, the light slipping over her face like a mask. Only it was the opposite – for the mask had come off. There she was. Plain features. Round spectacles. Hungry eyes.
Miss Always giggled wickedly and pulled the grey wig from her head. ‘I do love a surprise.’