Whimsy and Woe

by Rebecca McRitchie

  ‘How come they never took you with them?’ Woe asked.

  ‘Extreme seasickness,’ said Markus with a chuckle. ‘The first time I went with them I was eight years old and I was sick everywhere. On the deck, in the cabin, overboard, in the bedrooms, on the captain’s chair. It ruined their trip so much that I was never asked to go again, thankfully.’

  Whimsy and Woe laughed. Time passed as they sat in the lounge room listening to Markus tell them story after story from his childhood — like how his grandfather would surprise him every birthday by pretending to be the birthday cake. It was the present Markus looked forward to the most every year. The more Markus spoke, the more the sombre silence that had filled the Mordaunt home began to disappear and by the time he got to the part when he went to the Favian Festival, it had disappeared entirely.

  ‘My grandfather was invited to the festival every year but he only ever went once,’ Markus said.

  ‘How come?’ asked Woe, surprised.

  ‘I never understood it,’ said Markus thinking back, ‘but it was something about disagreeing with thespians competing against one another.’

  ‘What is the festival like?’ Whimsy asked, placing her empty bean can on the floor.

  ‘Large,’ said Markus. ‘There are celebrations constantly, everyone wears orange, which is the festival colour, there are fireworks and food stalls, and thespians perform in the streets.’

  ‘What about the people who live in Whitby City?’ asked Woe. Surely they wouldn’t like their city being overrun with thespians?

  ‘Residents and those not invited must leave before the gates close tonight. So the only people in the city are those with invitations.’

  ‘The entire city leaves?’ asked Whimsy. ‘Because they don’t have tickets?’

  Markus nodded.

  ‘And they check the tickets at the gates?’ Woe asked already seeing a large flaw in their plan to go to the Favian Festival.

  Markus nodded again.

  ‘But, Markus,’ said Whimsy also realising the flaw. ‘We don’t have tickets. How will we get through the gates?’

  ‘That is something I haven’t yet figured out,’ admitted Markus.

  At that moment, a creak from the top of the stairs echoed through the house. Whimsy, Woe and Markus turned sharply towards the staircase opposite the lounge room. Someone was inside the house. Then a pair of black high-heeled boots came stalking down the stairs, most ungracefully. When the owner of the uncomfortable-looking footwear reached the bottom of the staircase, Whimsy and Woe jumped to their feet.

  ‘I told you I would find you,’ Apoline hissed.

  61

  In which Apoline circles

  Their aunt had completely unravelled. Her black stockings had holes in them, her dress was still covered in food from the exploding pies and she looked as though she hadn’t showered in days. Whimsy allowed herself a small smile at the sight of their aunt’s messy hair. It was still stained blue.

  ‘I thought you might come back here,’ Apoline spat, stepping into the lounge room. ‘I knew it was only a matter of time until you became sentimental.’

  Markus awkwardly stood up from his place on the floor and moved next to the Mordaunt siblings, his eyes on Apoline as she circled the trio like prey. In seconds she had moved around to stand between them and the front door.

  The exit, Woe thought to himself. He tried to think of all the other possible exits in the house. They now had the staircase behind them.

  ‘You’ve found a friend,’ Apoline said, her green eyes resting on Markus. She squinted and then pointed a sharp black fingernail at him. ‘You look familiar. Speak.’

  Markus squared his Montgomery jaw and glared at the intruder. ‘You have my grandfather’s piano in your attic.’

  Apoline paused for a moment. Then she looked at Whimsy and Woe before erupting in a loud cackle. She continued to laugh and laugh until she swiped a hand under her eye, pretending to wipe away a tear. Whimsy scowled at her. Both she and Woe knew Apoline was incapable of tears.

  ‘Oh, thank you,’ she said to Markus. ‘I haven’t laughed like that in a long time. And it’s a beautiful piano, by the way. It really sings when you throw it from a two-storey window.’

  Whimsy knew the piano would still be fully intact in the attic. Not even their aunt would destroy such an expensive item.

  Woe glowered at their aunt. ‘What do you want?’

  Apoline rested her eyes on the youngest Mordaunt. ‘You and your infuriating sister are coming with me.’

  Like his aunt had done, Woe laughed. Whimsy enjoyed watching as a recognisable spark of anger ignited Apoline’s eyes in response.

  ‘We’re not going back,’ said Whimsy.

  Apoline sneered. ‘Going back? To what? Thanks to you rodents, there’s nothing to go back to! The Idle Slug is empty!’ she said furiously. ‘I lost all my guests! Even Cook.’

  Whimsy and Woe shared a relieved glance that Mr Abernathy and Miss Ballentine were no longer under the cruel thumb of their aunt. Mrs Solt must have followed her husband back to Boole.

  ‘We know about the letters,’ said Whimsy.

  Apoline feigned ignorance. ‘Letters?’

  ‘The ones you’ve been receiving with the hummingbird stamp on them,’ explained Whimsy.

  ‘You have been helping the man who took our parents,’ added Woe.

  Apoline paused briefly before she said, ‘You have no proof.’

  ‘How could you do that to our father, your own brother?’ asked Whimsy, disgusted.

  Apoline took a step closer to the eldest Mordaunt. ‘How could I not?’ she challenged in a whisper. ‘I was supposed to be the thespian in the family. Not him. But then one day my hair turned white. Alastair got all the great roles and I got nothing. Nothing but grandmother roles! I did what the letters said because every time I did, a new guest arrived on my doorstep. And money. Sometimes a gift in the shape of an automobile, or a piano,’ she looked at Markus before looking back at the siblings, ‘and sometimes a gift in the shape of two wretched children.’

  Woe felt the anger in his chest double. Their aunt hadn’t taken them in because she had to, because they had no-one else. They were gifts.

  Whimsy felt her brother tense up beside her and she fought the anger she knew he was feeling. They needed to get as much information out of Apoline as they could.

  ‘So you don’t know the person sending the letters?’ asked Whimsy.

  ‘Vincent? No. But he sounds charming. A man with a plan.’

  ‘Did you know he had taken other people?’ Markus interjected.

  Apoline looked bored. ‘Maybe. They probably deserved it like my brother and his gypsy wife.’

  This time Woe placed a hand on Whimsy’s arm as she stared in anger at Apoline. ‘We’re not going with you,’ he said with as much conviction as he could muster.

  ‘I am your legal guardian!’ said Apoline, with a stomp of her foot. ‘You will do as I say.’

  ‘Or we can tell the police what you’ve done,’ said Woe unwaveringly. He knew Solt controlled the Royal Police Department but they still had Detective Fry. He hoped he was safe and solving the case in Whitby City.

  Apoline raised a shaky hand to her mouth with a mock gasp. ‘Oh, not the police,’ she breathed. ‘Please, anything but them!’ Then she paused and let her shocked face fall back into its usual grimace. ‘See, I’m just as good as your father. Better, even.’

  ‘That was the worst acting I’ve ever seen,’ said Whimsy flatly.

  Suddenly Apoline lunged at her, but before she could grab the hair on Whimsy’s head, Woe pushed their aunt away and she tumbled off balance and onto the floor. Without missing a beat, Whimsy, Woe and Markus ran up the stairs behind them.

  ‘I have an idea,’ whispered Woe. ‘I’ll distract her, you two get onto the roof.’

  ‘But Woe,’ Whimsy began worriedly. How is he going to distract her?

  They heard Apoline start to climb the stairs, cursing to herself.
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  ‘Go!’ he whispered, then crept into their father’s study. It was the first room at the start of the hall.

  Quickly, Whimsy led Markus to her bedroom, the last on the landing. Perhaps this was a bad idea, she thought as she opened the door. They were not only trapped upstairs but a flood of memories and emotions hit her as she stared at where her bed, her desk and her things once were. She shook her head free of thoughts as she and Markus hid behind the door.

  Woe knew their mother kept a key to the basement hidden on top of the doorframe in their father’s study. He remembered how she would always say the basement was too dangerous for children. If he could reach the key and the basement in time, he might be able to put a stop to Apoline, giving them enough time to escape. Looking up, he could see the gold key glinting at him. He jumped up but his fingers grazed the frame. He jumped again, missing the key by just a fraction.

  Apoline had reached the top of the stairs and now stalked down the hallway. ‘You broke my shoe!’ she cried. Unbalanced, Apoline hobbled down the hall.

  Woe stopped his jumping momentarily to hide behind the door as she passed the study. She stopped and looked inside. Woe held his breath. Then she continued, looking in each room on the way.

  Woe didn’t have long before Apoline found his sister and Markus. He jumped again, trying to land on the floor quietly. Then with one last jump, his fingers grabbed the key. But he landed on the floor hard. He heard Apoline turn in his direction.

  ‘Got you,’ she said happily.

  Holding the key, Woe bolted out of the room. He heard a cry come from his aunt at the sight of him but he didn’t look. He flew down the stairs, two-by-two, raced through the lounge room, skidded down the hall, opening the arched door with the key, then dived into the dark Mordaunt basement.

  62

  In which escaping requires extreme heights

  Whimsy and Markus heard Woe race down the stairs. As soon as Apoline stomped after him they crept out of the bedroom. Whimsy quietly slid open the window in the upstairs hall. Outside, rain pelted down on the roof. Swallowing her hesitation, she stepped out into the rain and onto the tiled roof. In seconds she was soaked through. Her wet hair whipped her face in the wind. She turned and helped Markus out of the window. Whimsy looked at his bandaged ankle, worried that it wasn’t in the best shape to be scaling roofs.

  ‘We need to make it to the front of the house,’ she half-yelled to Markus over the gale. At the front was a drainpipe they could climb down. ‘Follow me.’

  Markus squinted at her through the rain and nodded.

  The wet slate tiles beneath Whimsy’s feet were slippery. Gingerly, she put one foot in front of the other and they walked along the side of the house slowly. Whimsy tried not to think about what she would do if Apoline caught her brother. She should have stopped him from using himself as a distraction. She couldn’t go to Whitby City without him. Then suddenly her left foot slipped. She toppled to the left, her whole body off balance before Markus reached out and grabbed her, holding her steady.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said to him, even more rattled. She took a deep breath before placing her foot onto the next tile. Then with one cautious step followed by another and another, Whimsy and Markus continued as fast as they dared along the roof of the house. When they reached the drainpipe, Whimsy descended first. Carefully, she put one foot on either side of the pipe and slid down it, her hands and knees gripping the metal pipe as tightly as the rain allowed. It creaked troublingly beneath her as the wind picked up and became fiercer. When she finally reached the bottom, Markus did the same.

  Looking around, Whimsy was surprised to see that Woe hadn’t yet come out of the house. Where was he?

  ‘What do we do?’ called Markus. They watched the front door, ready to run in case Apoline was the first to open it.

  ‘We wait,’ she said resolutely over the wind. They had to get away from Apoline now, but they also had to get to Whitby City if they ever hoped to see their parents again and remain out of Apoline’s clutches forever. Whimsy knew it was too late to make it on foot. There was not much time left. She looked behind her. The street was empty except for a large black . . . automobile? She had only ever seen one before when their parents had taken them to Whitby City. Their father said they were incredibly rare and incredibly expensive. What was one doing in Littlegate? Then she remembered what their aunt had said before. It must have been another one of Apoline’s gifts. Whimsy ran over to it and looked through the window. The keys dangled from a chain near the steering wheel.

  A car would help them get to Whitby City in time. But there was still one large problem: they needed a driver.

  Markus ran over to Whimsy at the car. He looked at her questioningly.

  ‘How well can you drive, Markus?’ she asked.

  63

  In which Apoline is thoroughly thwarted

  Woe was surprised to find the dark basement packed full of their parents’ possessions. Around him stood piles of boxes of old costumes and props.

  In the corner were logs of wood carved into various shapes. Woe remembered them from when his mother was auditioning for the part of a lumberjack with artistic flare in Chop-Chop. Whoever had taken their belongings must not have been able to get into the basement without the key.

  Above him, Woe heard Apoline bound down the hallway. He hid behind a tall box of wigs near the stairs. He heard his aunt stop momentarily at the top of the basement stairs before stomping down them.

  ‘So there is stuff down here,’ she said to herself. Then loudly to Woe, ‘Where did you find the key? I looked everywhere.’ She paused at the bottom of the stairs and opened one of the boxes closest to her. She must’ve decided it was rubbish because Woe heard whatever it was hit the basement floor accompanied by Apoline’s disinterested sigh. ‘Where are you? Come out. I am not your ghastly mother. I don’t play hide-and-seek with children.’ Woe heard her move further into the basement. He remembered the pirate in Cleeth Bay. Just a few steps more and he could run up the stairs out of her reach.

  Woe peered out for a look. Apoline was opening another box. She pulled out what Woe recognised as one of his sister’s finger paintings from years ago. To their mother’s annoyance, Whimsy had accidentally used her lipstick as paint. He wondered what else their parents had kept in the basement.

  With a snort, Apoline threw the lipstick painting over her shoulder in disgust. ‘You can’t hide in here forever,’ she said, searching behind the boxes in her path. She took another few steps away from the stairs and further into the basement. Woe took his chance. He jumped out from behind the box. At the same time, his aunt whirled around quickly, her arms outstretched to grab him but he had timed it incredibly well. Apoline was out of reach by an arm’s length. She grabbed only air.

  Woe sprinted up the stairs and slammed the arched basement door behind him. He heard Apoline scramble up the stairs and bang on the other side of the door. Woe shoved the gold key into the keyhole and turned it, locking Apoline in the basement. From behind the locked door, Apoline screamed in anger.

  ‘YOU FOUL CREATURE!’ she shouted. ‘OPEN THIS DOOR THIS INSTANT!’ She pummelled her fists on the basement door. It rattled on its hinges. Woe stepped back from it. ‘EVEN IF YOU FIND THEM, HE . . .’ she stopped herself.

  ‘What do you mean “even if we find them”?’ asked Woe, prompting her to continue. There was silence from behind the door. ‘What do you mean!’ yelled Woe.

  Apoline laughed. ‘You’ll see,’ she said, before laughing again.

  Woe wanted to throw open the door and make her tell him what she meant but he knew they needed to get to Whitby City. He pulled out his pocket watch. It was already half-past six! They only had thirty minutes to make it inside the gates. Apoline continued to bang on the door. Woe didn’t have much faith that it would hold her in for long so he ran down the hall, out the front door and into the rain.

  Woe searched the front garden for his sister and Markus. Squinting through the rain, he cou
ldn’t see them. He turned and looked up to the roof but they weren’t there either. Were they still upstairs?

  Suddenly a loud car horn sounded behind him. He turned just in time to see a black automobile drive up and over the front garden. It came to a sudden halt on the grass right in front of him, it’s engine revving loudly.

  Then his sister poked her head out of the passenger-side window, an excited smile on her face. ‘Hop in!’

  ‘Hop in!’

  64

  In which they journey towards a pair of very large gates

  The trio sat huddled together in the front seat of Apoline’s automobile, sliding to the right and left as it weaved its way through the small streets of Littlegate. The rain continued to pour down and Whimsy and Woe held on tightly as the automobile skidded around each corner at high speed. The car floor was littered with many of Apoline’s things, from clothes, to food wrappers, to newspapers, to bird feathers — all of which slid and rolled from left to right as they went.

  Woe rummaged through the mess to see if there was anything useful. Buried beneath a pile of old sandwiches near his feet, he found then pulled out a food-stained map that Apoline must have used to get to their home from the Idle Slug. He handed the map to Whimsy who used it to direct Markus to Whitby City.

  ‘Left here,’ Whimsy said.

  Markus pulled the steering wheel to the left quickly. Whimsy slid into her brother on the seat, squishing him against the side of the car.

  ‘Sorry,’ Markus said. After only a few close calls when the car careened sideways on two wheels, he finally got the hang of the vehicle.

  ‘Right here,’ Whimsy said.

  Markus steered them to the right.

  Woe finished searching through Apoline’s pile of rubbish. Looking back behind him, he noticed even more rubbish in the back. He waited for the car to be going straight before he dived into the back seat.