by Izzy Hunter
Mona had to quickly hid her smile by pretending to scratch her lip.
‘Anyways,’ he said, ‘I was almost at my room when those two ladies came passing by and I invited them into my room for a nightcap and well….’ He trailed off.
‘I think I can guess the rest,’ Mona said, lowering her hand.
‘So you see, it was your fault… in a way,’ said Sam, grinning again.
Mona turned to leave before she burst out laughing.
‘See you later, Miss Mona,’ Sam called after her, laughter in his voice.
‘In your dreams, Mister Samuel,’ she called back.
The sky was just morphing into a navy blue when The Red Jenny came into landing on a designated bit of land just outside the large town of New Moray. As the ship descended from the sky, Mona was looking out of her window at the cluster of lights from the city. Gas had long since been used in the larger town in the mid-west, so every street - hell, nearly every building - had gas lamps. It did mean that the air had a slight noxious smell to it but the citizens had become so used to it, they couldn’t really smell it any more.
Just like when they had left No Hope, the passengers had been told to stay below deck until the ship had docked into the air port. Mona was sitting in Mr Wood’s room, finishing off a meal consisting of roast chicken, sweet potato and carrots - you got well-fed on The Red Jenny - and watching the sky outside the window. Mr Woods had barely touched his food, having had his nose stuck in one of the books he’d found in the library days earlier. A particular passage in the book had him entranced; his fork being held mid-air with a juicy piece of chicken pierced to its prongs as he read.
‘Almost there,’ said Mona, returning to finish off the small pile of carrots still sat on her plate.
Woods glanced up from his book and then realising he was still holding his fork, ate the piece of chicken, swallowing it before speaking. ‘Oh dear,’ he said, frowning at the book. ‘I should have really taken notes.’
‘Helpful book?’ Mona said, nodding at the item in his hand. Woods had eagerly shown it to her the afternoon after the dance. He’d said he’d been up all that night, reaching almost three quarters of the thing before tiredness had consumed him. Since then, he’d finished the book, titled The Nurture and Care of All God’s Animals by some professor in Boston, Massachusetts, and started reading it again from the beginning.
‘Oh, it is quite wonderful,’ Woods admitted, stabbing the rest of his food and popping them into his mouth. ‘Very insightful, too. I don’t suppose… I don’t suppose the good Captain will allow me to borrow this book. I shall indeed give it back when I return to No Hope.’
‘Well, you won’t know unless you ask.’
‘Could you ask for me?’ Woods asked awkwardly. ‘If truth be known, she scares me a little.’
Mona couldn’t help but smile. ‘How so?’
Woods shrugged. ‘I don’t know, she just… does. So could you?’
‘I suppose there’s no harm,’ Mona replied, dropping her knife and fork on the plate and sitting back in her seat. ‘That was filling.’
Woods gave his book another look and then his dinner, as if deliberating which to focus on. With a heavy sigh, he took a glance at the page number he’d reached and set the book down before picking up his cutlery and setting to work on his half-empty plate, before it went cold. ‘So,’ he said, in between mouthfuls, ‘What’s the plan for when we land?’
Mona pursed her lips. ‘Well, we’ll need somewhere to stay. It’s getting late so we’re best off finding somewhere to train you up tomorrow.’
‘So you have somewhere in mind, to get me trained up, then?’ Woods asked.
Mona nodded slowly. ‘I think so. As I said before, there’s no guarantee they’ll take you on but -’
‘We won’t know unless we ask,’ Woods asked with a small smile.
‘Something like that,’ Mona said, thinking of someone in New Moray who was known as ‘The Fixer’; someone who knew everybody and how to get what you needed, whether it by legal means or otherwise.
‘I’m still willing to help you find the Reedus boy, of course,’ Woods continued. ‘Two heads are better than one, after all.’
Mona thanked him and then resumed staring out of the window as the roofs of the nearby buildings grew larger, as the ship lowered to the ground.
Once the ship had docked and the passengers were disembarking with their belongings, Mona caught sight of Sam. With a brief goodbye wave, she and Mr Woods sauntered off into the heart of the town. A hansom cab, the type normally found travelling the streets of London, sat on the side of the road, waiting for custom. Checking they had enough money, the pair climbed into the black carriage and called on the driver to find them a cheap but respectable hotel.
The Grey Baker Hotel, despite its less than optimistic title, was a quaint three-storey building on the junction between Juniper Street and Vash avenue. Mona had not seen it before on her previous venture into the town so judged that it was recently built. Indeed, next to the weathered-looking buildings either side of the hotel, it looked brand new.
On entering the hotel, Mona was hit by the warmth radiating from a glowing log fire coming from the dining area, glimpsed from the reception area. As the air outside was chilly, this heat was much welcomed. The rooms were fairly priced and the woman behind the reception desk even asked if both Mona and Woods fancied some supper as they had food left over from dinner time. The offer was politely refused, Mona explaining they had just eaten. Unperturbed, the woman invited them to warm their bones on the pair of comfy-looking chairs by the fire and she would bring them both a Whiskey, on the house. Mona and Woods thanked her for her kindness, then walked into the cosy dining room. If a place like this was cheap, goodness knows how luxurious the more expensive hotels were.
Mona walked down the smoothed, wooden staircase intending to meet Mr Woods in the dining room the next morning after a most excellent night’s sleep. She’d had only happy dreams about finding the Reedus boy, about Henry able to speak, heck even one including Sam where he and Henry became firm friends. Mona took these dreams as a sign that things were going to go well in New Moray.
Instead of finding Woods sitting at one of the tables and tucking into a hearty breakfast, there sat Sam shovelling bits of fried egg into his mouth like it was going out of fashion. A sliver of murky yellow yolk began its descent down his chin before he wiped it away with the back of his hand. He gave the yellow smear a look and then licked it off his hand. Dismayed to find him there, Mona glanced around for Woods who, unfortunately, was returning to Sam’s table, presumably having just been to the rest room, judging from the way he was double-checking his shirt tails were tucked in. An old woman approached their table, offloading a plate similar to Sam’s in front of Woods.
Mona took a deep breath and ventured into the dining room, greeting some of the other residents as she passed. Once she got to the table Sam and Woods were sitting at, she plonked herself down on the only available chair, between the two men.
‘Why, Miss Mona, fancy running into you here?’ Sam exclaimed.
Woods frowned. ‘But I told you she was staying here -’ he began before abruptly shutting up as if someone had just kicked him under the table.
‘Are you stalking me, Samuel?’ Mona asked, looking around for the waitress so she could order something to eat.
Sam’s looked slightly crestfallen. ‘We’re back to Samuel again?’ he asked, before continuing. ‘No, ma’am. I am not. Once I got off Red Jenny, I asked around for a good hotel. This place was recommended to me.’
‘Oh yes? By whom?’ Mona asked, dubiously.
‘By her, as it happens,’ Sam told her, as the waitress who had given Woods his food, returned to the table to get Mona’s order. ‘Lilith, didn’t you recommend this place to me last night? I don’t think Mona here believes me.’
The old woman eyed Mona with a frown. ‘The fella’s right. I was heading here to start my shift and bumped into Sam, her
e. He asked if there was anywhere in town that was cheap to stay and I told him I was on my way to such a place at that very moment. Hell, I wouldn’t have sent him off to one of them other establishments and deprived this place of some custom, would I?’
‘I guess not,’ said Mona.
‘Now, what will you have, dear?’ Lilith asked, a wrinkled bare arm on her hip.
Mona looked at the two plates on the table. ‘What they’re having?’
‘Coming right up,’ Lilith declared, then bee-lined straight through a door which presumably led to the kitchens.
‘I guess you want to get started looking for the boy once we’re done here,’ Woods said, as he swallowed the last bit of bacon on his plate.
‘The sooner we find him, the sooner we can get back to No Hope.’
‘But not before getting me trained up,’ Woods corrected her, a hopeful note in his voice.
‘If we can get you trained up, yes. Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten,’ Mona assured him, though for that brief moment she had.
‘It’s a bit of a strange name. No Hope, I mean,’ Sam mused, chewing enthusiastically on his rasher of bacon. ‘Not exactly an inviting-sounding name. Though I do concede the town, and its folk, are nice enough.’
‘So you didn’t hear the story behind the name while you were there?’ Woods asked, before exchanging smirks with Mona.
‘I’m afraid I did not,’ Sam said. ‘I’m all ears, now, though.’
Woods sniffed and leant forward in his seat, food momentarily forgotten about. ‘Well, originally, the town was founded by a few families from Ireland and Scotland, I believe,’ he paused and glanced at Mona for confirmation. ‘Anyways, as the story goes, whenever travellers passed through the settlement and asked for items to help them on their way, the settlers would always answer “Nope”. So, after a while the town became known as Nope with even the settlers declaring that’s what they’d name the town.’
‘Yes,’ said Mona, taking up the tale. ‘Up until then, the town had gone through a dozen name changes since the settlers had arrived.’
‘Yeah,’ agreed Woods. ‘Anyways, when it came to painting the name on a sign to let folks know what town this was, the fella who did the painting, well, he wasn’t the best of spellers.’
‘The inscriber couldn’t quite understand the settler’s Celtic tongues - I’m not sure where he came from originally - but instead of painting Nope onto the sign, he put No Hope instead.’
Sam looked at the two delighted, smiling faces before him. He gently put down his knife and fork, took a deep breath and addressed them. ‘Well, I have to say that has to be the most boring tale I’ve ever been told. And I’ve been told some humdingers in my time.’
Woods face dropped and, red-faced, he went back to his breakfast. Mona, however, kept her eyes on Sam. ‘All right, Mister Exciting. You tell us a riveting tale, then.’
‘Huh?’ Sam asked, not really listening as he peered over his plate to inspect a blackened bean. After a moment’s deliberation, he speared it with his fork and threw it into his mouth.
‘Tell us an exciting tale,’ Mona repeated. ‘Something that’s happened in your life.’
‘Who says I’ve led an exciting life?’ Sam countered, meeting her gaze. There was a mischievous look on his face. The same kind of look he wore outside her room that night, back on The Red Jenny. She was only too glad that Mr Woods was there to force Sam to behave himself.
‘But you’re a drifter,’ Woods said, coming to her rescue. ‘You must have seen lots on your travels.’
Sam paused for a moment then folded his arms. ‘All right, I’ll make a deal with y’all. You get to hear an exciting, mesmerising, true-life tale and in return,’ he looked at Mona, and smirked, ‘I get to come help you look for the kid.’
‘Bit of an unbalanced deal, is it not?’ Mona asked, in a haughty voice. ‘We get to hear a tale which will probably end up being dull as dishwater and have to suffer your company for a while longer.’
‘I think it’s a fine deal,’ said Woods. Mona wasn’t sure if he genuinely thought it or was trying to wind her up.
‘Great,’ Sam said. He raised a hand to his mouth and let out a soft burp.
‘Well?’ Mona said, expectantly.
‘What?’ Sam asked, frowning. ‘Oh, you want the tale now?’
‘Why yes,’ said Mona, in a dead voice. ‘Can’t you see we’re practically bursting with anticipation?’
‘You’re practically drooling,’ Sam muttered, winking at her. ‘Okay, here goes.’ He straightened up and cleared his throat, ready to begin.
‘Ah, too late,’ Mona said, as Lilith returned with a plate of steaming hot food. Sam’s words were about to come true as Mona’s mouth watered at the generous portion in front of her. ‘Sorry, Samuel,’ Mona went on, once Lilith had left, ‘but I fear that if I listen to your scintillating story while eating at the same time, I may not focus on eating properly and choke.’
‘What are you talking about?’ Woods asked, and then just like before he abruptly shut up. He looked at Mona and then at Sam. ‘I do wish people would stop kicking my ankle underneath the table. I bruise easily, y’know.’
‘Well, Mona, I would not want you to choke in my presence,’ Sam said, his words heavy with innuendo, and both he and Mona knew it. Sam’s meaning wasn’t lost on Mr Woods either. With a heavy sigh, the ex-teacher stood up, mopping his mouth with the green napkin in his hand.
‘Dear god, it’s like an evening at Mrs Fontaine’s, listening to you two,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘I’m going to get some fresh air. I’ll meet you outside.’
Sam laughed at Wood’s receding form. ‘Hell, that was timid compared to some things you hear in a whorehouse, surely? I guess he didn’t want to hear my story after all.’
‘Such a shame,’ Mona remarked, cutting into her fried egg and watching as the yellow yolk oozed out onto the plate. ‘I guess the deal’s off.’
‘No it aint,’ Sam said, bemused. ‘I think I’d like to tell you a tale,’ he said, smiling wickedly. What was he up to?
‘Is it exciting?’
Sam nodded slowly, eyes widening. ‘Hell yeah.’
Mona shrugged. ‘Fine. Whatever. Just don’t make me choke,’ she said, pointedly.
‘I’ll be gentle with you,’ he parried.
A mere five minutes later, Mona sat her elbow on the table, head leaning on fisted hand, and food forgotten about. Sam had just finished his story and was now sat back in his chair, with a smug look on his face.
‘So I guess she never joined the nunnery after that?’ Mona asked, finally finding her voice.
Sam shook his head. ‘Not that I’m aware of.’
‘Did her dad ever track you down?’
‘I’m still here, aren’t I?’ he asked, widening his arms a little.
‘You’re a love ‘em and leave ‘em sort of guy, aren’t you?’ Mona said. It was more of a statement than a question but Sam answered anyway.
‘Well, you could find out for yourself,’ he said, leaning forward. With the look he was giving her, and the low husky voice with which he spoke, his words sent made a direct connection to her groin. Jesus, what the hell was wrong with her?
‘I’m taken,’ she said, finishing her breakfast.
‘Yeah, aint that the thing.’
They met Woods outside the hotel where he was sitting on the wooden bench, taking in the view as the citizens of the town went about their business. Mona had tried to give Sam the slip while he, ever the gentleman, took both plates and cutlery items back to Lilith, but Sam seemed to be glued to her side and before she even got outside the hotel, he was walking beside her.
The street was full of people milling around. On the street corner, a man was selling a newsletter on one stall, with roasted chestnuts on the other. This was a vast contrast to No Hope which was a normally very sleepy place, though being about eight times smaller than New Moray, it was unsurprising.
‘So we know where we’re goi
ng?’ Sam asked, turning up the collar of his brown coat as a chill swept through the street.
Mona nodded, buttoning up her own knee-length, black jacket. As the wind teased through her long, raven hair, she realised she missed the comfort of her Sheriff’s hat. She would have to investigate the stores around here and buy a new hat. However, that could wait until her business in New Moray was finished. ‘The uncle works nearby. Apparently, Matthew had mentioned him before he took off.’
As they walked along the street, stopping to buy a bag of roasted chestnuts to share, Woods asked, ‘What’s the uncle’s profession? Don’t suppose he works with animals?’ he added, hoping to kill two birds with one stone.
‘Sorry,’ said Mona. ‘He works with stiffs only.’ When Woods gave her a confused look, she elaborated. ‘His uncle’s an undertaker.’
They found the undertakers - Reedus and Son - on the next street, sitting regally between a gun store and a doctor’s surgery.
How very apt, thought Mona, a man buys a weapon from the gun store, is treated at the doctor’s surgery and if things don’t go well, ends up at the undertaker’s. She didn’t doubt that this had happened to many a person here in New Moray.
A small bell jingled as Sam led the way into the shop front, heralding the arrival of new customers. The room was very light, which only showed up the rows of coffins standing against three of the four walls. Woods, being the last to enter the establishment, had just closed the door again when an impossibly tall man appeared from the back of the shop. In fact, he was so tall that he had to swoop as to not hit his head on the top of the door frame. He was dressed in the customary black suit of an undertaker and wore a sombre expression on his pale face. His hair was black and smooth back from his narrow face.
