by Peter Bunzl
Selena curtsied. “Your Majesty, Jack was my father. I can only apologize for his behaviour.”
“For that, I thank you, Madam,” the Queen replied. She turned to Lily and smiled. “You see, Lily, when you lose someone close, the gifts they gave you become keepsakes to remember them by – it’s as if they magically contain a part of that person. And when you mislay such a gift, it is like losing that person all over again. But when you recover it, it is always a great and unexpected blessing.”
Robert thought of his da’s coat and its faint smell of tobacco, of Da; and Lily felt for the ammonite in her pocket – the last gift from her mother. They both knew exactly what the Queen meant, as did everyone standing there listening to her words, for they’d all lost someone dear to their hearts at one time or another.
“Shall I help you down the ladder, Your Majesty?” John suggested, and suddenly the Queen came out of her reverie and realized the world was watching.
The Queen leaned out over the edge of the howdah and peered down at the crowds of equerries who had gathered like ants beneath the Elephanta’s bulk. They were wringing their hands together silently as they waited for her to descend and commence the very important state business of the afternoon. Business that mainly involved sitting still in a chair through unimaginably long and very dull speeches.
Victoria shook her head. “I’ve a better idea. A most amusing diversion that Albert would have adored, and one that will keep the crowds talking about my Jubilee for years to come.”
She walked to the front of the howdah and put a hand on the Elephanta’s head. “Elephanta,” she commanded. “I want you to please ascend the steps of the cathedral and march through the main doors. I shall then disembark.”
“As you wish,” the Elephanta said, and she let out a deep mechanical bellow and marched towards the front of the parade.
The Queen’s equerries and advisors cowered on the pavement, goggling in disbelief as the Elephanta’s flat grey feet pounded past them. The Elephanta climbed the steps of St Paul’s and her big metal flanks brushed against the tall columns of the cathedral, shaking the Roman portico and the statues of the saints.
She paused for a moment in front of the enormous entrance. Though its doors had been thrown wide open, it still wasn’t quite clear if she could make it through.
She sucked in her sides and stepped forward. The tented roof of the howdah brushed the lintel stone with a crunch, and Lily and everyone else held onto their hats, while the Queen held onto her diamond tiara.
Inside, the rows of European royalty waiting expectantly to take their seats for the service flinched in alarm and staggered away as the Elephanta galumphed down the central aisle of the cathedral.
When she reached the throne at the far end, she stopped. While a long set of stairs was pushed up to her side so that the Queen could descend, the Elephanta let out a booming roar, which echoed through the space from end to end; blasting dust from every archway that dissipated up into the great vaulted dome above.
Afterwards, people claimed that they’d heard the Elephanta down the length and breadth of Fleet Street. Lily wasn’t entirely sure that could be true, but it was certainly a great trumpet, loud enough to fill the whole cathedral, and she knew it was a memory she would long recall, and treasure for ever.
In the week following the Queen’s Jubilee, Selena and Caddy stayed with the Hartmans at Brackenbridge. At first it felt strange to Lily to have other people around the house, but they were pleasant company.
Since their arrival she had found herself dreaming more vividly of Mama at night. It was almost as if another mother and daughter being there had brought the visions of her own mother to the light once more.
In tonight’s dream, Mama stood opposite her, holding the rosewood box that had once contained all the memories and mementoes of her. She opened it to reveal a sky spiralling with moons and constellations. Then, just like Robert when he and Lily first met, Mama explained how each star was a billion years old; and how their light was shining from every moment in history.
“Keep me in your heart,” she told Lily, “and the memory of me will burn as sweet and strong as these stars.”
Mama bent down to kiss Lily, and she woke up.
She was rewarded by a lick on the face from Malkin, who had slowed down in the night and was nearly out of ticks. Lily wound him up with his winder key and he jumped down from the bed and ran to the door, mewing to be let out.
Lily got up and let him into the hall. Everything was worringly quiet. Wasn’t today the day that Caddy and Selena were supposed to be leaving? Surely they hadn’t set off yet? She went to her window and drew back her curtains.
The sun was almost up and the real stars had long since disappeared, but the waxing moon was still visible faintly in the distance. Soon it would be gone completely and then it would gradually return night by night – marking the start of a new month.
Until then, there were things to do. Lily could hear Mrs Rust clanging about downstairs. She put on her green summer dress and her pinafore, and tugged on some slippers. Then she called for Malkin and, together, they went to see if she could scour up any breakfast.
Robert’s empty plate and mug were standing on the draining board when Lily arrived in the kitchen. “Where’s Robert?” she asked Mrs Rust, who was busily washing the crockery. “Is he up already?”
“He went with his sister and Ma,” Mrs Rust replied. “To the airstation. The pair of them are catching the early commuter zep to London.”
“They’ve departed already?” Lily’s heart leaped. “He’s not taking off with them, is he?”
“Cogs and chronometers!” Mrs Rust said. “I don’t know! That’s down to him to decide, and if he’s kept his own counsel with you, he’s not going to tell me, is he?”
Lily headed to the door. “Come on, Malkin,” she said. “We have to catch him.”
“Don’t you try and stop him going, if that’s what he’s resolved to do,” Mrs Rust called after her.
“I will try,” Lily called back, rushing across the yard in her slippers, with Malkin at her heels. “But if I can’t change his mind, then I want to at least be there to say goodbye!”
Robert stood on the airstation platform with his ma and Caddy. Had it really been only seven days he’d known them? They’d grown close even in that short amount of time. He and Lily had shown Caddy the manor and its gardens, Brackenbridge village and the old churchyard where Da was buried. Then, last of all, he’d shown Ma the shop.
She’d cried when she saw it, and he had too. Somehow seeing that damaged place had brought her losses home to her. Robert understood. He knew it could take a thing that big, that physically real, to make you realize that what you were missing was gone for ever.
“Townsend’s is yours, if you want it, Robbie,” his ma had said as she dried her eyes. But then, as they walked away, she’d stopped and taken his hand. “Or,” she said quietly, “you could come with us?”
Robert sighed. He’d hoped in his heart that she and Caddy might stay, but her words told him that wasn’t to be the case.
In the few days since, Selena hadn’t changed her mind. She had bookings for her show lined up in London and the provinces, she said. Plus contracts and opportunities she claimed she couldn’t turn down.
Last night she packed their things once more, with Caddy and Robert looking on sadly. And John had agreed that, in the morning, when the time came, Robert would go with Caddy and Ma to the airstation to see them both off.
Now the moment of their departure had arrived, and for a second Robert thought about taking off with them. The opportunity had been playing on his mind, but this would be his last chance to actually take it, to disregard everything of his past and become part of a performing family in a life completely different from his own.
Selena put a hand on his shoulder. “Have you made your decision?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Robert replied, and he recognized that much was true; t
he choice had been like a rock, weighing on him. “This past week… I feel as if I’ve got closer to you both. But there’s John and Lily to think of, and Malkin, Mrs Rust and the rest. The Hartmans saved me when I had nowhere to go. They looked after me when no one loved me and I’d no one to love. They’re like family.”
It was the same thought he’d had in the tunnels, and it was true; family wasn’t flesh and blood, or the branches of a withered tree. Family was who you loved and who loved you. And though he’d made a connection with Selena and Caddy, it wasn’t the same feeling he had for Lily, or John, or Malkin and the mechanicals.
“We do love you, Robert,” Selena said. “But I understand. It’s a hard choice, and I’ve put you on the spot by leaving so soon.”
“Love and trust,” Robert said, “they’re not always the same thing. And I don’t know if I can trust you yet… I don’t think I can go.”
“You’re right,” Selena said. “I’ve been neglectful. It’s far too little, too late. I see that now. You don’t have to come with us, but, before I go, I want to at least give you something to remember me by.” She unhooked the Moonlocket from around her neck, and handed it to him.
Robert took it. The locket’s shape and weight felt familiar in his hand.
“Open it,” she said.
He flicked the catch and the two halves opened to reveal the painted miniature of baby Robert and his ma and da in one half and, in the other, a tiny photograph of baby Caddy held by his ma, a few years later.
“Your da painted that portrait of us,” Selena explained; she half-closed her eyes and spoke softly as she remembered. “The photograph of Caddy and me was taken when she was newborn. With a box camera I borrowed.”
She leaned in close, examining both pictures. Robert smelled her perfume, fresh and summery. “At last I can go back to doing my show with Caddy, and make a new life for us, without the bad reputation of Jack and the Door family hanging over me.”
Selena took Caddy’s hand. Then she kissed Robert’s cheek, and stepped away from him. “We have to go. But we’ll be back soon, I promise.”
Robert nodded. “I understand.”
He went to break the locket apart, to give Caddy back her half, but she shook her head. “You keep both pieces, to remember us by. That way you’ll always have us close to your heart. A happy, united family.”
Robert saw that she was right; the two pictures in the locket did make a whole family. A family that would never be complete without Da, not really, but a family that he could think of as his own nonetheless.
He tucked the locket inside his shirt, where it hung around his neck, his skin slowly warming the metal, and looked up to find Selena watching him.
She blinked a few times and he wondered if she might be crying, but she merely wiped her eyes and, still holding Caddy’s hand, turned and walked up the gangplank to the entrance of the airship.
“Wait!” he cried when they were nearly at the door, and they turned and gazed back at him one last time.
“I shall miss you,” he shouted. “I shall miss you as the sun misses the moon!”
Selena smiled and said something in return.
“What?” he hollered, for he could barely hear her over the drone of the airship’s engine.
She came to the edge of the boarding platform and stood leaning over the rail, like she was on a stage – the grandest stage in the world, and he was an audience of one.
“It’s the other way around,” she said, raising her arms to him. “I shall miss you as the moon misses the sun. The sun illuminates the moon, without it she’d disappear. It’s that light which keeps her shining through her darkest nights!”
She stepped into the doorway of the airship, facing him all the way and bowing slowly as she went. Caddy followed behind her and, before she left, she turned to Robert and waved.
“I love you to the moon and back!” she called.
And then the mechanical porter shut the door on both of them and they were gone.
Robert waited on the platform while the gangplank was removed and the anchor rolled up. Then the zep rose slowly and softly into the sky.
Robert didn’t take his eyes from it, and, when it finally disappeared into the clouds, for a long time he watched the space where it had been. How was it, he wondered, that something so big and so real could be there one minute and gone the next? It felt impossible, and yet it happened every day.
He held out the Moonlocket and the clouds parted, scattering shards of sunlight across its strange silver map and sending glittering rainbows across the surface of his fingers. When he looked up again to where the airship had been, he saw it had disappeared. A ghostly waning moon had taken its place, paling slowly in the sky against the bright blue light of morning.
“Robert!” a voice sang, and he turned.
It was Lily, cycling towards him across the airfield. Malkin sat up in the basket on the front of her bicycle, his pointed nose sniffing the air in delight.
“I’m so glad you stayed,” she said, as she skidded to a stop.
She jumped down off the saddle and threw the bike aside to give Robert the most enormous hug.
“Careful!” Malkin coughed angrily. He crawled from beneath the overturned frame and spinning wheels of the clattering machine and trotted over to Robert.
“I am glad you’re still here too!” the mech-fox yapped and he licked at Robert’s fingers for good measure.
Robert gave a deep sigh. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said. “Not yet!”
“That’s good,” Lily replied. “Because there’s so much more for us to do. Papa needs keeping an eye on, plus the mechanicals have to be taken care of – I couldn’t do all that without you! You’re my best friend, Robert. And we made a pact, remember: whatever comes our way, good or bad, we shall look after each other.
“Come on.” She picked up the bike once more and swung a leg over its crossbar.
“Are you wearing slippers?” Robert asked her.
“What if I am?” she said. “I didn’t have time to change properly, that’s all. Come on, we’ll ride back together. You can sit on the saddle, if you like, and I’ll stand and do the pedalling. Malkin, you can get back in the basket and navigate.”
“I don’t see why I have to ride in the basket always?” Malkin said. “I mean, it’s not as if I’m a loaf of bread.”
“It’s because no one else is small enough to fit in,” Lily said.
Malkin growled a complaint that sounded like a curse, but still he jumped into the basket willingly enough, and bobbed his head up and lolled his tongue out to signal he was ready to go.
Lily rode them down the lane, weaving the bicycle unsteadily along; and her heart soared with the knowledge that Robert had decided to stay, as well she’d guessed he might.
The Cogheart… With this new adventure, Lily felt as if she was closer to discovering the truth of it. Since she’d first learned she had it eight months ago, it had sometimes felt like an alien fragment, or a foreign object inside her, something that explained why she felt so different to other people.
She had often found herself wondering if someone with such a heart could really offer friendship or love. But now she saw that that simply wasn’t true. She had plenty of friends around her, and she loved each and every one of them dearly, most especially Robert.
The Cogheart was hers. As much a part of her as an arm or leg, or her thoughts or feelings. Integral to who she was and who she would become. Sometimes it ached for those she’d lost, and sometimes it soared with joy for those she’d found. But either way she felt one with it at last.
And it wasn’t just the heart she was connected to, Lily reflected, but everything. If you didn’t divide it up, carve things into categories, it was all one and the same anyway – waves and oceans, dawns and sunsets, noise and silence. Life was a single connected river that ran through mechanicals, people, animals, planets. Everything that ever was or would be, all mixed together in a soup of being; of shouti
ng and jumping, moving and bumping. Echoes of the great creation, the let-there-be-light – she was that and more. One continuing, amazing instant; a single spark, burning a long trail that would go on for ever, until the last ember of time burned out.
They were approaching Brackenbridge Manor. Robert put an arm around Lily and leaned back on the bicycle, staring up at the sky.
Above him, somewhere in the wild blue yonder, his ma and Caddy were sailing away.
In their time together he’d felt a deep, diamond-bright connection to them. It had filled every sinew and bone of his body, radiating out to the four corners of his soul. But still, he had decided to stay in Brackenbridge. He was sure it was the best choice for now. Selena and Caddy would be back soon, perhaps with new stories to tell – for the first time in his life he didn’t doubt that was true. There’d always be a twist of longing, of course. A small wish he’d gone with them, but that wasn’t a risk he was ready to take. Not yet. Not today. Selena had let him down so deeply in the past, and he needed to stand on his own two feet, walk his own path.
The choice he’d made was to stay with Lily, and John, Malkin and the mechanicals. Though this adventure was over he was certain they would find another. They were his family; Brackenbridge his home – the place where he belonged. A place where he could walk into a room and feel those around him were his friends and had his best interests at heart. A place of good company, where there was plenty of joy and affection to go round. A place filled with smiling faces telling him: Robert, you are a free spirit like your mother; an artist like your father; and warm-hearted like your sister. We’re true family – without you we’d be broken in pieces, but with you we carry on.
And one face in particular meant more to him than any other. A face that belonged to a beautiful girl named Lily, a friend who loved him.
