The Complete Adventures of Victoria Neaves & Romney

by Michael White

  “I think Mister Helsing has an appointment elsewhere.” said the cat, and as if to emphasise this a tight red beam fired towards the man’s bag on the floor for the briefest of seconds. Small puffs of smoke that seemed to be very quickly growing in size began to appear through the partially open zipper in the top of the bag.

  “I say.” said Helsing, standing and grabbing the now smoking bag. Mister Tibbs moved back a pace almost as if he was re-targeting the older man. “Well. I can see that perhaps my attention is drawn elsewhere.” he said and ran from the room, smoke following him as he ran down the path.

  “Zank you Mister Tibbs.” said Viktor, “I am not sure vot all zat vas about but I don’t zink he vos a very strong candidate.”

  “You’re welcome.” said Mister Tibbs, “You are quite correct in your assessment, Viktor.” and then left the room.

  “Von more to go.” said Viktor out loud as he looked at the clipboard and the doorbell rang. He checked the name of the last candidate and walked out to the door, opening it with a smile.

  “Mister Boot?” said Viktor and the veritable giant that was filling the doorframe had to stoop to look at him.

  “Urrgh.” said Mister Boot and Viktor’s heart sank.

  ***

  “Watch the bend, watch the bend!” shouted Fanelda as the steam wagon shot around a steep curve in the road. Across the fields the first few houses of Ponty Pushkin were visible, but it looked as if the road was taking them the long way round.

  “Anyone following us?” shouted Romney, and Fanelda spun around, looking back up the lane in the direction they had just come from.

  “Not yet.” she said, “But I am sure that they will.”

  “Well Clwyd Evans will for sure.” frowned Romney, patting his jacket pocket, “Even if it is only for his necklace. Part of the holy armour is that.”

  “Could he really have hurt you with it?” she said and Romney nodded vigorously.

  “Oh yes. Guaranteed nasty piece of equipment to your average demon is that. Banned now of course, but nobody seems to have got that through to mister demon hunter. The witch was right you know. The government would have come down on him like a pile of rocks if he had destroyed me.”

  “Perhaps she knows what he’s like and was trying to make him desist.”

  “Well they will follow us. We just need to get you to visit your parents and then we can be heading back home. Is there another road that would take us around Ponty Bodkin?”

  “Oh lots.” giggled Fanelda, “That’s why the village is so isolated and a little backward looking really. They consider the townspeople of Ponty Pushkin to be almost cosmopolitan.” she laughed as the wagon entered the village.

  Romney had a good look around. It did not seem to be much different from the other village really. There were more people about for sure, but not too many. The church that sat beside the village green was a little bigger than the one in Ponty Bodkin but that was it.

  “I see.” said Romney, “Now which way to your parent’s house?” Fanelda paused as if trying to remember.

  “Keep going this way.” she said. “Only a little slower. It’s about a quarter of a mile up the lane on the left. It’s set back from the road at the top of a little hill.”

  Romney nodded and watched as she sat looking ahead, beginning to nibble at her fingernails slightly.

  “Nervous?” he asked and she nodded. “Have you thought what you are going to do when you get there?”

  “I haven’t.” she admitted. “Perhaps we should turn back?”

  “Why?” asked Romney, puzzled. As they reached the top of a hill Fanelda pointed to a small house off the side of the road and he drew the steam wagon to a halt beside it.

  “Well.” she said. Romney could not tell if she was going to laugh or whether she was going to cry. “I have been dead for nearly twenty years. If I stride back in now large as life it’s quite possible the shock may kill one, or maybe both of them.”

  “You didn’t think of this when you set out?”

  “No.”

  “Very well.” said Romney. “I made you corporeal. I have one last trick up my sleeve.”

  “What’s that then?” she said as Romney put a reassuring arm around her back.

  “Just that.” said Romney. “Have a look in the rear view mirror on the window here. “

  Fanelda leaned forward and gasped as she looked at herself in the mirror. She looked completely different! Her hair was now bright red, her face longer, her nose short, and her eyes completely the wrong colour. It did not look like her at all!

  “You made me ginger! She spluttered, “Thank you!”

  “Well that’s a first!” chuckled Romney. “There is a sign by the gate there saying they are selling eggs. Did they always do that?”

  “Since I was a little girl.” she smiled. “Mam used to say it was like the chickens were paying their board.” Romney laughed and got out of the steam wagon before walking around it and helping her down to the road.

  “Let’s go buy some eggs.” he smiled as they crossed the road and opened the gate and went inside.

  ***

  And in the darkness of the cellar Victoria dreams…

  “It is a house I need.” she says, and the dream swims a little, fraying about the edges. She is lying on a bed in a hotel room. She is bored now, and she thinks her life is behind her, for she must hide away from the government whose plans she has just thwarted.

  “We could house hunt.” says Romney brightly but she doesn't reply, nor does she move from the bed. “One thing is certain. You cannot stay in this hotel room for the rest of your life. Have you seen how much they charge to do your laundry?”

  A small smile begins at the corner of her mouth but does not stray onto her face any further.

  “A home.” she says finally a few minutes later. “That is what I want.”

  “Well we need to start looking.”

  “Yes.” she said. “Since I was little it is something that I have never had, what with boarding school after boarding school, and then when the technological revolution took hold and I lost my family….”

  She drifted off into silence, thinking.

  “A home.” she says finally, “That is all I have ever wanted, Romney. A home.”

  The lights fade in the room and she thinks perhaps Romney is smiling but she cannot know for sure of course because the dream takes her, darkness flying her away and everything turns dark again…

  And in the darkness of the cellar Victoria dreams…

  ***

  “Come on, Jones!” said Clwyd Evans as the wheelbarrow was trundled up the lane.

  “I am going as fast as I can!” groaned Jones the wheelbarrow, his knees visibly buckling. Besides him Alice sat on her broom, floating along the road with Cat on the back. Behind then followed several assorted members of the village, accompanying the pair of them more out of curiosity than anything.

  “Let me help.” said Alice and the wheelbarrow suddenly increased in speed all on its own, Jones falling flat on the road as it pulled away from him. Jones decided that it was probably best for his mortality to stay there.

  “Faster!” demanded Evans, the demon hunter visibly champing at the bit to follow the two outsiders. “That demon has my holy necklace!”

  As if by command the wheelbarrow sped up slightly, Alice doing likewise to keep pace. The other villagers began to fall behind, but they continued to follow. Far away in the distance there also appeared to be a goat racing along the lane with what several villagers were sure was a fox sitting on its back.

  “Can you hear bees?” asked Alice and Cat looked around reluctantly.

  “I swear ta your god damned flying brush yo have there yo' r' losin' yo' goddamn mind, woman!” said Cat and Alice tutted. It didn’t matter what Cat said. She could definitely hear bees.

  ***

  “So ze position is available straight away really.” said Viktor, the clipboard hovering above his knee. In front of him Miste
r Boot sat in the armchair in which he would normally sit when Victoria wanted to speak to him. Sat, Viktor thought, was not an entirely accurate way to describe how Mister Boot was in the chair. “Perched” would be far more accurate, or perhaps, “Straddling”. The man was enormous! When Viktor had led him up the hall he swore that Boot had had to stoop, and he had more or less come through the living room door sideways.

  He was dressed in a long thick overcoat which despite Viktor asking him he had left on. The collar on the coat was also pulled up about his back, a small round hat perched on his massive head. The collar was so high it was impossible to see the man’s face at all.

  “So is there anything you vant to ask?” asked Viktor politely.

  “Urgh.” said Boot without moving at all.

  “So if I offered to the position you would accept it?” said Viktor, doing his very best to smile brightly.

  “Urgh.” said Boot again and Viktor nodded, not entirely sure if he had a new manservant or not, though he did rather suspect that the beatings were going to have to be put on hold for a while if not reconsidered entirely. He considered his position. He thought the best option available to him was that he would show Mister Boot the accommodation he would have and if he stayed there then he was employed. If he didn’t and left, then he wasn’t.

  He was about to stand when he suddenly felt dizzy. He grabbed hold of the arms of the chair as Boot sat looking at him blankly.

  “Urgh?” he said and Viktor suddenly felt very warm.

  ‘Fanelda!” He heard a very familiar voice say, “Please don't’ come any further. Your additional weight will end the steam wagon over the edge!” Viktor closed his eyes and concentrated. One of the main advantages of being who he was, and what he was he conceded, was a strong psychic link with those he considered to be his friends. He wasn’t entirely sure if that was true of Romney, but it definitely was true of Fanelda. Viktor tutted quietly.

  “Excuse me Mister Boot.” he said, “I von’t be a minute and then ve can see your room.”

  “Urgh.” said Mister Boot and then after a brief second he clapped his hands again. Before adding, “Urgh!” Viktor considered this to be a breakthrough in communications if nothing else.

  ***

  Fanelda led the way, almost tip-toeing across the farmyard heading towards the house in search of eggs. Romney followed behind her, not too close or not too far, as if he was observing her almost. She looked about her and turning to smile at him, heading towards the house. She opened the gate, the path beyond it short and leading to a narrow wooden door. The second that she opened the gate the door opened and out stepped an old man, his back stooped, a smile on his face. Fanelda stopped on the spot.

  “Eggs is it?” he said, looking at Fanelda as she was nearer to him. She seemed frozen to the spot however, watching the old man closely. Romney took a step forward.

  “Yes please, sir.” he said, “Two dozen if you will. Are they fresh?” The old farmer chuckled at this, moving past Fanelda and out into the yard. Fanelda followed him, and Romney saw a slight tear in the corner of her eye.

  “So fresh the hens are still warming them.” said Fanelda and the old man laughed but looked at her strangely.

  “That’s it.” he smiled. “Rhonda!” he shouted back to the house, “Fetch me four boxes will you? I have run out!”

  “Coming!” shouted a woman from inside the house and Fanelda turned to look at her as the door opened. Romney saw an old woman, her hair tied back in a bun. That she was Fanelda’s mother was without doubt. He glanced at the dead maid and smiled. Her disguise was perfectly in place. Just as well too, he thought.

  “Hello.” said Fanelda, and the woman stopped on the path, both of them looking at each other. Romney moved closer. They were looking at each other rather oddly, he thought.

  “Hello.” said Rhonda. “Eggs is it?”

  “Yes.”

  “I…” said the old woman, holding out her hand and Fanelda crumbled, grasping the old womans hand tightly and then hugging each other.

  “How???” asked the farmer’s wife.

  “It doesn’t matter now.” said Fanelda. “It doesn’t matter at all. I just had to say goodbye properly.”

  “Are you happy?” she said and Fanelda nodded.

  “It didn’t hurt at all.” she said. “Not then, and not now. But I cannot stay.”

  Romney looked at the two women completely confused. How they recognised each other he did not know.

  “A mother’s love, young man.” said Rhonda and Fanelda turned to smile at him.

  Romney heard a sound from the lane and walked over to the wall. The road twisted a little here but he could see a crowd moving in their direction, led by Clwyd Evans in what appeared to be a self-propelled wheelbarrow, and Alice on her broom. Following that were about twenty villagers, and focusing his keen sight beyond that what appeared to be a fox riding on a goat and a large swarm of bees, and what quite strangely appeared to be a small skeleton.

  “Fanelda!” he called, running back to the gate, “We need to go.”

  “I am sorry mother.” said Fanelda, “But I really do have to leave.”

  “Thank you.” she said, trying in vain to hold back the tears, “Now go.”

  “Thank you for what?” asked Fanelda, still hugging her mother as Romney more or less hopped from foot to foot. Fanelda’s father simply stood off to one side, his mouth open. He had the look of a man who has absolutely no idea what is going on at all. Fanelda however, came quickly to her senses and spun on the spot as her father stood in perpetual confusion on the path wondering what on Earth all the fuss was about.

  “Get in!” yelled Romney, helping her up into her seat and then racing around to the other side and leaping in, getting the steam wagon revving almost instantly.

  In the farmyard the woman stood waving, her husband looking at her in confusion. She gave him a dark look and he began to wave too, though in a somewhat confused manner. He had no idea of why he was waving or who he was waving at. In fact, he was troubled somewhat as he was sure that the young girl and the strange man had not paid for the eggs at all. Wisely, he decided not to mention this and carried on waving, though he definitely now looked like a man who was doing it because he knew for certain that if he did not then he was surely going to cop for it later.

  “Go!” she screamed as around the corner came Evans, Alice and the rest of her entourage. With a scream of tyres and a hiss of steam the wagon began to move down the hill rapidly, Alice and Evans accelerating to catch them up.

  “Watch the bend at the bottom of the hill!” shouted Fanelda, “It is very tight and the cliffs above the sea are just to the side of the road!”

  Romney nodded but did not slow down. The wagon was slow to reach maximum speed and he was sure that the witch and the demon hunter seemed to be actually gaining on them.

  “The bend!” shouted Fanelda, “Romney! Slow down!” Romney turned to her to tell her that they were alright but as he saw the bend coming up ahead very quickly he realised that there was no way he was going to get the steam wagon around it. He stamped on the brakes and the wagon slid to one side, slipped off the road and careered over a small hill, skidding towards the cliff as it did so. At the last second he pulled on the handbrake too and the wagon shuddered to a sudden halt, sending him flying over the bonnet, the vehicle teetering on the edge of the cliff, the bonnet of the wagon hanging over the cliff edge, the boiler at the rear still on the ground.

  Fanelda looked back over the field, tyre tracks cutting into the grass and leading to where they had stopped. Down the hill came Evans and Alice, the villagers, a fox riding on a goat, an angry looking swarm of bees and a small angry looking skeleton that was shaking its bony hand in the air furiously.

  “Help!” cried Romney from where he hung from the front bumper of the car, suspended in mid-air by his braces. “Help!” he cried again, weakly.

  The steam wagon hung over the edge of the cliff, its sleek metallic and brass cov
ered bodywork gleaming in the bright summer sun. The wagon was teetering on the very edge of the cliff, the front of it suspended in the air and being kept from plummeting to the beach a good one hundred or so feet below by the rear end of the engine which at this point was the heaviest part of it. The situation however was not being improved by the young man hanging from the front bumper of the steam wagon by his braces.

  He was tall and broad shouldered, his hair flopping down over his eyes. He was also hanging face down over the drop and doing his very best to keep very very still, the car see sawing on the cliff top above him. He did also seem to be screaming.

  A lot.

  On the bonnet of the car was a young dark haired women dressed in an elegant white summer dress, a floppy white hat on her head. She edged slowly towards the front of the steam car on the bonnet, doing her very best not to tip the car over the edge.

  ‘Fanelda!” gasped the young man who was hanging in mid-air from the car bumper, “Please don't come any further. Your additional weight will end the steam wagon over the edge!”

  “But what can I do, Romney?” she shouted, revealing that she had a relatively strong South Wales accent.

  “Go back to the farm and get help!” he shouted, “And stay clear of those two silly old sods from the village!”

  The woman on the bonnet nodded and began to slowly edge back towards the rear of the car, pausing only once as the vehicle slipped slightly forward, sending the man dangling by his braces swinging through the air.

  “Silly old sod, you say?” came a voice from below. Romney sighed with grim acceptance as a small broom rose from below him and hovered in mid-air. Astride it sat a somewhat spritely looking silver haired woman who wagged a finger at him in what looked like mock annoyance and cackled loudly. She wore a long black robe and a pointed hat. Upon the end of the broom sat a small thin ginger cat that was bizarrely, smiling wildly at the man.

  “Nice ta peep yo' again my homie” said the cat, smiling broadly. The man hanging from the car winced but otherwise ignored the animal.