by John Booth
Tom bowed to the inevitable and started to strip. As his clothes came off, Antonia picked them up gingerly and dropped them into a large earthenware sink on the floor. She began to pump a handle and soon water splashed over them.
Meanwhile, Tom had completed undressing. Antonia pointed across the room at a bowl. “Bring that over here and fill it with water. Then, while you clean yourself, I will rinse your clothes.”
A short time later, Tom felt clean again. He looked over to Antonia who was down on her knees scrubbing his clothes in the sink. Her position tightened the cloth against her backside and he felt stirrings in his groin at her graceful figure.
Antonia somehow sensed his arousal and turned. “Come here,” she commanded and he found himself walking towards her. She remained on her knees and soon there was nowhere further for him to walk.
“Move your hands,” she said firmly.
“Now I will teach you another lesson,” she said. And sure enough, she did.
9. Talents
When Tricky left the classroom he found a familiar face waiting for him in the corridor.
“I thought you was Trelawney’s butler now?”
Arnold glowered. Of all the things Tricky might have said, that was pretty much the worst. It took him a great deal of effort not to turn around and walk away, but if he did he would never prove Trelawney and all the others wrong.
“I have come to help you to see Andrea Wright.”
Tricky nodded. “We got our own plan. Come an’ talk.”
Tricky located Alice and Edith and the four found a place to squat together in the ugly school yard.
“I’m going as a Telegraph boy. I’ve done it afor.”
Arnold shook his head. “They will be on the look out for you. And how would you find her?”
Alice grinned. “We got it all worked out. Edith can see Tricky as ‘e goes an’ I can give ’im ’er orders ’ow to get there, usin’ mi talent.”
“You can farsee that clearly?” Arnold asked Edith in surprise. She couldn’t have done that when he last saw her.
Edith grinned and nodded. “I know exactly where this woman is. I can see her now.”
Arnold considered. “It’s a good plan and it would have worked before you stirred up MM1. But they are not letting civilians in there right now and they’d spot you a mile off.”
“What’s your way?” Tricky asked.
“I’m MM3 and have papers to prove it. Once I’m in the building, nobody will question me. I can go and ask her.”
“An’ ’ow you plannin’ to get in?” Tricky asked.
“I was hoping you could do that, with your skill at picking locks. The rest of your plan is good too. Edith and Alice can guide me straight to the girl.”
The children considered Arnold’s offer. He felt like he was at another tribunal, being judged by midgets.
“It’s a good plan,” Alice said at last.
“’e ain’t that bright,” Tricky pointed out, and Arnold felt his face go red. “But it ain’t a task needs much o’ that.”
“If he is caught, we will not be any worse off. Provided he does not talk,” Edith said. “I say, let him go.”
“I will not talk. Who would believe me anyway?”
Tricky grinned. “You got yerself a job, Mister Tompkins.”
Cam checked in her trunk in the left luggage department of Liverpool Street Station. If she was going to be able to move freely, she had to stop Annelise following her and the trunk slowed her down. She fled the station and headed for the market outside.
Annelise had changed into working women’s clothes on the train. Cam’s clothes, while inconspicuous in Vienna would stick out like a sore thumb in the streets of London. Annelise always thought ahead and she smiled grimly. If Cam went anywhere she should not go, she would be dead before nightfall.
Cam was well aware of the problem of her clothes. She moved swiftly through the market, throwing coins down for clothes she picked up as she ran. A couple of minutes later she slipped under a table where clothes hung low enough to touch the ground. She didn’t try to change, but concentrated on slowing her breathing and being as quite as a mouse.
“Did you see a voman vearing foreign clothes?” Cam was surprised at how thick Annelise’s accent was. It was the first time she had heard her speak English. Annelise was speaking to the owner of the table she was hiding under.
“The only foreign woman I seen around here is you, dearie,” a cheerful female voice replied.
For the next few minutes all Cam heard was the usual chatter of the market place. Them someone lifted the clothes out of the way from the stallholder’s side.
“Best get changed quick and be out of here, dearie. I think she’s gone, but she’s tricky that one.”
Cam did as instructed.
“Thanks,” she said as she slid out from under the table and got to her feet
“Be off with yer, now. That’ll be thanks enough.”
Cam stepped around the stall and started to walk away. A few seconds later she heard a commotion behind her and ran for her life.
Annelise had left the stall and taken up a position that gave her a view of every exit on the crowded street. When Cam stood up at the stall, Annelise spotted her at once and started after her.
A young girl in gypsy clothes stepped in front of Annelise.
“Lucky ’eather, brings you good luck it does.”
Annelise stepped to one side and the girl sidestepped with her. She was only a child, but had been plying this trade for years and understood marks. If you made it too difficult for them to move on, they paid you just to get you out of their way.
Annelise tried throwing the girl to one side, but the girl slipped out of her hands and was in front of her again.
“Only a penny. Pay a girl a penny for lucky ’eather, missus.”
Annelise pulled a stiletto from her blouse and stabbed the child in the heart. The girl’s eyes went wide and then the life went out of them. Annelise removed the knife in one fluid moment while easing the girl down to the ground.
She had barely taken two steps when a male voice shouted in outrage.
“She killed the little girl. Saw it with mi own eyes, I did.”
Annelise saw Cam begin to run. She snarled as a weighty hand grabbed her shoulder, reaching again for the knife.
Even an angry mob knows when it is outclassed. Two men nursed nasty stab wounds and a circle of people stood just beyond Annelise’s reach. Several had potatoes and turnips in their hands, ready to throw if she tried to come at them. Then a police whistle blew in the distance and everybody turned and ran. Annelise ran as well. She cursed the fact that Cam would be well gone by now and that only the English would give a damn about the fate of a gypsy girl.
The army wagon stopped in woodland and Captain Trentwood pulled the canvas covers aside at the back end so he could shout orders at the two women inside.
“End of the line, Ladies. Get out.”
“Where are we?” Laura asked.
“At the border between Lower and Upper Brittany, for what it’s worth. All you need to know is that everyone beyond this point is an enemy. If they speak French at you, kill them.”
Daisy moved towards the back of the wagon where Captain Trentwood stood glowering at them.
“It’s that easy, is it Captain?”
Trentwood grinned. “More or less. The French speakers have rebelled, not the ones who speak Breton.”
“Captain Trentwood?” A gruff cultured voice asked. Trentwood turned and then stood to attention, giving a smart salute.
“Yes, General, Sir!”
A face appeared at the canvas door. “Which one of you is Miss Young?”
Laura tentatively lifted a hand.
The man’s face broke into a smile. “Welcome to my command. I am General Brent-Smyth and I understand you don’t like killing people. Neither do I, so let’s see if we can find a way out of this rebellion without too much bloodshed.”
&nb
sp; Tom woke with a start and reached over for Antonia to find she had returned to her room. Since his resolve crumbled in the kitchen on Saturday they had indulged in sexual congress more times than Tom chose to remember.
“I am being used by an older woman,” Tom said, failing to keep the smirk off his face. In point of fact, Antonia was six years older than him, but Tom knew he was not being fair. The usage had been the same on either side. He also had to admit that what started as lust was rapidly becoming friendship. Antonia made him laugh and he knew she liked him as much as he liked her.
“But I love Laura,” he said with conviction and he knew he spoke the truth. The woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with was locked up somewhere in England. He had been brought up with a strong sense of right and wrong and knew that he must end his relationship with Antonia soon, but that would not happen today.
He mused on an experiment he had thought of the night before. As sex became a regular occurrence he found he was able to think during it. In his last encounter he used his healing talent to examine Andrea’s body as she was in the height of passion. Unlike a man, most of her body was involved in the moments of ecstasy; nerves fired bursts of electricity from the tips of her toes all the way up to her breasts. He was sure he could use his talent to generate those feelings in a woman, provided he was touching her. It was something he was eager to try.
‘There might be an opportunity at the breakfast table.’ Enthused with the notion, he rose from the bed and set about his ablutions.
Antonia was the only one at the breakfast table. There were signs that others had been and left.
“Lord McBride asks that, if you can be bothered, you should attend him at the Hubris. The natives have finished their painting and he wants you to go on the next test flight.”
“Did I oversleep?” Tom looked at the clock on the mantle and was horrified to see it was half past nine.
“I told him that I had been supervising your calisthenics on Sunday, and that you might have overexerted yourself.” Antonia took another slice of toast as Tom hurried to the candle heated trays and scooped up bacon and eggs.
“I trust you did not describe these exercises to him?”
Antonia choked on her toast and Tom reached over to pat her back.
“Andrea just suggested something very rude that I am certainly not going to repeat,” she said, once she could speak again.
“I might be able to give her a similar surprise.” He winked at Antonia.
“And how pray, would you do that?”
“Take my hand,” Tom said, offering out his own.
Antonia pulled her hands well away from him. “What are you up to? That grin on your face is most lascivious.”
“And I did not think you scared of anything.”
Antonia was torn between proving him right and risking whatever it was Tom planned to do. Reluctantly, Antonia reached out and put her hand in his. Tom tried his experiment and Antonia jerked as if struck by lightning. She shuddered uncontrollably and slid back in her chair so far, she became in danger of falling right out of it. Her hand broke contact with his as she lost control of her limbs.
For a moment, Tom thought he might have hurt her. Antonia continued to spasm while her limbs waved randomly. Then she calmed and her movements stilled. A slow smile spread across her face.
With considerable effort, Antonia pulled herself up to a sitting position. “When did you learn to do that?”
“I thought of it this morning. It is something akin to healing.”
“I believe that it might be; it was certainly extremely invigorating.”
“Did it catch Andrea off guard?”
“She wants you to come to London at once, if only to pick her off the floor.”
Tom knew that this was the time to tell her his long term plans.
“This affair must end soon. I remain committed to Laura.”
Antonia gave him a sly smile.
“I could be your mistress. Gentlemen often have a mistress, as even you must be aware.”
“I do not earn enough to keep Laura, let alone a mistress.” Tom believed that men with mistresses were committing a sin, but he knew Antonia would not agree.
She laughed as though he had said something outrageously funny. “I know many rich and powerful women who would pay you a fortune for the handshake you just gave me. You could quickly become the richest man in London.”
Tom frowned because her words made no sense.
“Go and fly your airship,” Antonia commanded grandly. “I have no need of Elios to fly right now. Go now, before I command you to stay.”
Tom fled the room, grabbing his jacket and hat on the way out.
Trelawney strolled into his study to find himself at gunpoint. It took him a moment to recognize the woman holding the gun.
“I know I sent you on a tough mission, but is that sufficient reason to shoot me?”
Cam lowered the gun and Trelawney waved her to sit down while he poured brandy into two glasses.
“I have been ordered to kill you. The Brotherhood arranged it.”
Trelawney laughed. “How wonderfully ironic. Will you do it before or after we finish this drink?”
Cam grinned savagely and he handed her a glass before sitting down in the chair facing her.
“I asked my MM3 controller in Vienna what I should do, and he said I should shoot you as it would increase my standing with the Hungarians.”
Trelawney nodded. “Not in the slightest bit surprised. That would be Burton, I take it?” Not waiting for confirmation Trelawney continued. “I am certain that Sir Anthony and his secretary are both high ranking Brotherhood members. How is Fräulein Shultz, by the way?”
“She killed a little girl at Liverpool Street this morning, if the evening papers are to be believed. She was following me at the time.”
Trelawney saw the brandy in Cam’s hand tremble just a little as she spoke.
He sighed. “There are always innocents killed in war. Are you sure you lost her before coming here?”
“Yes.” Her tone was flat with certainty. “I am supposed to kill you and Miss Mann at the wedding, just after you tie the knot.”
“Then you most certainly shall, Camilla. Otherwise someone else is bound to have a go and we would not want that to happen, now would we?”
Arnold trembled with excitement as he stood waiting for Tricky to unlock the back door to Mercury House. There were many service entrances at the rear of the building. This was the only one where the person in charge had failed to draw the bolts.
“Wasa matter?” Tricky asked as he opened the door.
“Bit cold.”
“I’m bloomin’ sweating.”
[WE ARE READY.] Alice screamed in his head.
“Hell, turn it down, Alice.”
“She can’t ‘ear you,” Tricky reminded him. “She is al’as overdoin’ it.”
“I am going in. You should get back to the girls.”
Tricky grinned and vanished into the night. Steeling himself for trouble, Arnold slid through the door and closed it behind him.
Alice kept up a stream of instructions. Edith told her that Arnold was flinching every time she broadcast and she toned down her telepathy very reluctantly.
[Another left and then take the stairs up as far as they go.]
The staircase was purely functional as it was only used by cleaners and Arnold had to be careful not to make any noise as he stepped on the bare boards. When he reached the top he waited for further instructions.
[There’s a long corridor and the room you want is the third door on the left. No, that would be your right. Well, make up your mind, Edith.]
Arnold suppressed a smile as he stepped through the door into the corridor and nearly bumped into the man guarding it. The man pulled a pistol on him.
“MM3. I am here to inspect the security.”
It was dark in the corridor with only a single gaslight on, and that turned down low. Neither man could s
ee the other clearly.
“We will just go down to reception and check that, sir. Would you mind raising your hands to where I can see them?”
Arnold swore mentally. He had already failed. He raised his hands and turned his back on the man with the gun. There was the sound of a dull thud behind him.
[WELL TURN ROUND. I KNOCKED HIM OUT.] Arnold cringed at the amplitude. [TRICKY SAYS, HIT HIM OVER THE HEAD]
Arnold found the man unconscious on the floor. Why should he hit him again?
As if reading his thoughts, Alice broadcasted. [SO THEY WON’T KNOW IT IS ME WHAT DONE IT.]
Arnold took the man’s gun and hit him with it. The sound of metal on flesh made him want to vomit.
[Wipe the gun handle where you hit him.]
Arnold knew when he was outclassed and did what he was told. He dragged the guard to the staircase and left him there.
[Tricky says to get on with it.]
The door in question was locked so Arnold knocked on it. Andrea came to the door and opened it. She was wearing a thin, revealing bathrobe and Arnold had trouble raising his eyes to her face.
“What?”
“I have to talk to you about Thomas Carter,” Arnold blurted out.
Andrea’s face broke into a smile. “Well come on in. He is currently my favorite subject. Do you have any idea what he can do with his hands?”
Arnold was acutely aware that the guard would not stay unconscious forever, but it was proving very hard to have a serious conversation with this woman about anything. Whenever he started to speak she would cross or uncross her legs and his mind would become a complete blank.
“Tom has a friend called Ebb who is dying,” he said with his eyes closed. When he peaked he saw her nipples were visible through her robe.
“Are you hot in that jacket? You appear to be sweating.”
“I am fine.” ‘Think of England,’ Arnold repeated in his head.
“You could take your trousers off as well. It isn’t right for you to be sitting there in so many clothes when I am wearing practically nothing.”
To prove her point, Andrea swept open her bathrobe and Arnold nearly fainted at the glance she gave him before she covered up.
