We all shouted, ‘Hooray!’
Later that afternoon, I woke up on the living room floor. The other children were still napping on mats around me, and the house was quiet. But I could hear some gentle conversation somewhere.
I crept out of the room, following the sound, and found it in the kitchen. A teapot and cups sat on the table, along with a plate of biscuits. Patrick and Lida sat facing me. They had washed and combed their hair, and they wore fresh clothes, but they still looked skinny and bewildered. Walter the trumpeter was also at the table, gazing at my parents, his chin propped on his hands. So was Aunt Carrie, her hands wrapped around a cup of tea. Opposite these four sat a man and a woman. Their backs were to me, but I knew them anyway. I would know them anywhere.
‘Aunt Isabelle!’ I said. ‘And the Butler!’
It was lovely, their reaction. Bursts of elation came from both of them, and happy sighs. Then they remembered to be their proper selves again.
‘Well, Bronte,’ Aunt Isabelle said, reaching out to brush something from the shoulder of my nightdress. ‘Have you enjoyed your adventures?’
‘Oh yes,’ I said. ‘Very much.’
‘And did you encounter any witches? Or Sterling Silver Foxes?’
I shook my head.
‘But I hear you’ve had a run-in with the Whispering King?’ Aunt Isabelle arched an eyebrow, but a dimple appeared in her cheek, and everyone laughed.
‘Look, Bronte!’ Walter said. ‘It’s your parents! Alive!’ He rubbed his fists on the top of both their heads, and they ducked away from him, smiling.
‘She is the one who rescued us,’ Patrick said, speaking softly. ‘We were about to tell our story, Bronte. If you’d like to hear it?’
‘Should we wait for everyone else?’ I suggested. I felt shy suddenly, and wanted all my aunts and cousins.
‘Let them sleep,’ Aunt Carrie said. ‘Lida, do you want to start?’
Lida took a deep breath.
‘I was the first and only child of the Whispering King,’ she began. ‘And my mother died not long after I was born. My father did terrible things then, as you know, and started the Whispering Wars. I grew up in the castle, not knowing much of politics or battles, but when I turned twelve, I began to see my father as he truly was. I was supposed to begin wearing the shadow band on my fifteenth birthday.’ She held up her bare wrist and studied it. ‘It was the law. None could refuse. So I ran away from home.’
‘There was Spellbinding around the Whispering Kingdom then,’ Aunt Carrie put in. ‘But it was weak enough to find fragile parts and break through.’
Patrick sipped from his tea. ‘Lida came to Gainsleigh,’ he said. ‘And we fell in love. But when she turned seventeen—’
‘I got a letter from my father,’ Lida put in. ‘He had discovered where I was. His letter said he would send for my firstborn child to take my place as heir to the throne.’
Everyone looked over at me: firstborn child.
‘We had never told anybody that Lida was a Whisperer,’ Patrick put in. ‘Not even my sisters. It was too soon after the Whispering Wars.’
‘Except for me,’ Walter added. ‘I knew there was something special about Patrick’s new girlfriend. I’ve got Faery in me, so I sense things, and I cajoled Patrick into confiding in me. But he never confided that she was the daughter of the King.’
Patrick pushed the plate of biscuits towards his friend. ‘Here, have one of these to make up for it,’ he offered.
Lida smiled. ‘We decided my father was bluffing,’ she said. ‘We got married, and you were born, Bronte.’
‘And then there was the telegram,’ Patrick said grimly. ‘Instructing us to bring our new baby to the Whispering Kingdom within forty-eight hours, or else—’
‘Or else pirates would be sent to take her.’
Around the table, people shook their heads grimly.
‘We rushed to the wharf to take the first ship out to the Whispering Kingdom,’ Patrick said. ‘Lida could get through the Whispering Gates, of course. We left Bronte in the lobby of Isabelle’s building with a note.’
‘And some cloudberry tea,’ Aunt Isabelle prompted. ‘Because you knew I liked it so?’
‘Because all of Patrick’s sisters love cloudberry tea,’ Lida smiled. ‘We threw it in the pram at the last minute, as an apology for asking you to babysit. We thought it would only be for a few days.’
‘We all like it?’ Aunt Isabelle cried. ‘I thought it was just me!’ She seemed miffed.
‘Franny has some on the countertop right there,’ Patrick pointed out.
‘You’re the eldest sister,’ Aunt Carrie consoled Aunt Isabelle. ‘So you probably started it.’
Lida carried on with the story. ‘I thought I could persuade my father to leave my daughter be,’ she said. ‘I was going to make up with him, and offer to return as queen myself when the time came. But right away, we realised that wasn’t going to work.’
‘It turned out the King wanted Bronte for a reason,’ Patrick said. ‘He’d heard a Whisper about her being important in his plans to make the Whispering Kingdom all-powerful. He wanted to raise her himself, to make sure she’d be on his side.’
The Butler nodded slowly. ‘To brainwash her,’ he said. ‘That explains why he kept inviting her to stay.’
‘I was right,’ Aunt Isabelle declared, ‘in refusing.’
Everybody nodded in agreement and patted Aunt Isabelle’s arms or shoulders.
‘There were people in the Whispering Kingdom who hated the King,’ Lida continued, ‘and wanted to end his reign. We thought the best way to save Bronte would be to join them.’
‘But then we were arrested and put in the dungeons,’ Patrick said.
‘There were other resistance fighters in there,’ Lida continued. ‘We tried all sorts of methods of escaping. All sorts of plans to take down the King.’
‘Nothing worked,’ Patrick sighed. ‘I’m a Spellbinder myself, as you might know, but I hadn’t started training yet and had no idea what to do. I mean, I tried—’
‘Without instruction,’ Aunt Carrie said, ‘you would have been useless. Don’t blame yourself.’
Patrick offered her a sort of frowning smile, as if he did blame himself.
‘And then we heard that the King had come up with a new plan to get Bronte to visit,’ Lida said. ‘Pretend we were dead. Send a telegram informing our family, and then insist Bronte visit.’
‘The fact is, Bronte was going to come to the Whispering Kingdom,’ Patrick added. ‘She was going to play a key role. The King had heard the Whisper, so we knew this was fate. We had to figure out how to keep her safe when she arrived.’
‘And how to help her play the right role,’ Lida put in.
‘You didn’t trust me?’ I said. ‘To do the right thing?’
Lida’s face fell. ‘Of course we did,’ she said. ‘Only, we knew you would have to believe in yourself.’
‘And understand the true history of the Whisperers,’ Patrick added. ‘That’s why we had you on the Cruise Ship with Maya and Lisbeth for four weeks. They have an historian doing talks, and he loves to discuss the Whispering Kingdom. In four weeks, we thought, you must surely hear his talk at least once.’
I shook my head. ‘Not once. Taylor told me he was deathly dull and I should give him a miss.’
Patrick and Lida both spat out their tea.
‘It’s all right,’ I said. ‘I read one of Uncle Nigel’s books.’
‘Anyway,’ Lida said, chuckling, ‘we drew up plans for your journey, using the will as a disguise.’
‘We were trying to figure out how to let my sisters know what was happening, so they could protect you.’
‘And that’s when I heard the Whisper from the future,’ Lida said. ‘I dreamed that a child’s voice was speaking to me.’ She looked at me shyly. ‘I think it was your voice, Bronte. A Potion to Bind the Whispering King, you said, soft and clear, by Carabella-the-Great. Honey, you said next, cinnamon, dried chil
lies, nutmeg—and so on.’
I blinked. ‘But that was just last night.’
‘It was like you were reading aloud to me,’ Lida said. ‘You gave me the potion.’
‘So,’ Patrick said, ‘we decided that we would tell the lawyers to gather the ingredients, have Bronte deliver them, and then get the aunts together to talk about their ‘gifts’. We figured Carrie would surely recognise the ingredients and get the message.’
‘Why’s that then?’ Walter wondered.
There was an awkward pause but Aunt Carrie smiled. ‘It’s all right,’ she said. ‘I trust everyone here.’
‘She’s Carabella-the-Great,’ Lida explained. ‘I knew it the first time I met you, Carrie. Whisperers can sense the strongest Spellbinders. That’s why we asked you to go see her, Walter. And why we had Bronte stay with her a while.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Carrie murmured. ‘I wasn’t there for you.’
‘Well, but you were,’ Patrick argued. ‘You wrote the potion to bind the Whispering King, didn’t you? And the remarkable thing was that almost all of the ingredients matched up with my sisters somehow.’
‘Not so remarkable.’ Aunt Carrie shook her head. ‘The best Spellbinding potions are created out of love and sadness. I developed that potion not long after I lost Bear. I poured all my love for my sisters into it—Sue’s fondness for honey; Emma and how she liked to paint with cinnamon; Nancy and her pink rose petals.’
‘She prefers red,’ I pointed out.
‘Oh, that’s the thing with Nancy,’ Carrie sighed. ‘She’s the middle sister. We’re always forgetting the little details about her. That’s probably why she’s the way she is. Anyway, cloudberry tea was for all the sisters.’ She gave Isabelle an apologetic nod. ‘And dried mushrooms for Bear. He loved them so.’
We glanced at her and then turned away to drink tea or play with teaspoons.
‘After that, I heard all sorts of Whispers about your journey,’ Lida said. ‘And I added things to the instructions to match.’
‘And I put in recommendations for cafés and restaurants,’ Patrick said. ‘I like my food.’
Several people offered him another biscuit.
Aunt Isabelle was drumming her nails on the table. ‘It was almost a good plan,’ she conceded. ‘But something went awry.’
Lida nodded. ‘My father heard the Whisper about Prince William being important,’ she said. ‘So he had the pirates kidnap the boy, thinking that would guarantee Bronte was on his side.’
‘So Bronte went to the Whispering Kingdom before we’d had a chance to talk about the gifts,’ Aunt Carrie said slowly. ‘Well, somehow it worked out anyway. What a story,’ she added, shaking her head.
‘A story?’ said a voice. ‘What story?’ Aunt Franny had just shuffled into the kitchen, hair still ruffled from sleep. ‘Don’t tell me Patrick and Lida have told their story without me here! Begin again!’
But then she looked the clock. ‘Hold that thought. We need to be at the circus in less than an hour. Better start waking everybody up to get ready.’
‘Skip the circus,’ Aunt Carrie suggested.
Aunt Franny had found a carrot. She took a noisy bite. ‘Can’t skip it,’ she said. ‘It’s the party to celebrate Patrick and Lida. Final thing on the will. And the will is Faery cross-stitched, remember?’
At this, we all spun around and looked hard at Patrick and Lida.
‘Why,’ I asked, ‘did you have to use Faery cross-stitch?’
‘Yes,’ said several other voices, as more people shuffled into the kitchen. ‘Why the Faery cross-stitch? Didn’t you trust Bronte to do as you asked?’
Patrick and Lida stared.
‘Faery cross-stitch?’ they murmured.
Walter cleared his throat. ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘That was me. You told me to be sure the will got to the lawyers? So I found some bright thread in my grandmother’s old sewing box, and added the border myself.’
‘You what?’ Lida cried.
‘Faery cross-stitch!’ Patrick exclaimed.
‘But how frightening for Bronte!’
‘Gainsleigh could have been torn to pieces!’
‘Walter!’ they both wailed in unison.
Walter clicked his tongue. ‘Oops,’ he said. ‘That’s what cross-stitch does?’
Everybody went to the circus that night, even the water sprites. (They sat in barrels.)
I’m sure that the circus was good, but mostly we all just looked sideways at Patrick and Lida. Also Uncle Josh and Uncle Nigel competed to see which could make the children giggle. They were both very funny, so it was a very close competition.
We did concentrate on Taylor’s part of the show. Handstands, cartwheels, tumble turns in the air, and all while Midnight cantered around the ring. She was a real spitfire, as Aunt Claire declared. We gave her a standing ovation until the people in the seats behind shouted for us to sit down.
As everyone packed to go home the next day, there was a knock on the front door. My cousins and I were playing in the foyer at the time, so we opened it.
A very thin man stared down at us, his face pale. He reminded me of the prisoners from the Whispering dungeon, except that his hair was cut very short.
‘Would Bronte Mettlestone be here?’ he asked, and I stepped forward. ‘My name is Ronaldo C. Torrington,’ he said. ‘You sent me a postcard about a painting of mine?’
‘Oh, yes! The children in the playground!’
He nodded. ‘I was away, so only received it yesterday, then I travelled directly to Stantonville.’
I was shocked. ‘You didn’t need to do that,’ I murmured. ‘I only wondered if you knew anything about people acting out your paintings.’
‘Well, no,’ he said. ‘That was interesting, and a little flattering, I admit—but I’m afraid I can’t explain it. The reason I came …’
He paused and scratched his head.
‘Well, Bronte, your postcard mentioned you were staying with Carrie Mettlestone,’ he said at last. ‘I once knew her, you see. And I lost touch. So I was excited to learn of her address. But the man at the Stantonville post office told me she’d gone to Nina Bay. So. Here I am.’
He looked about him nervously and suddenly I saw the truth. He was in love with Aunt Carrie.
Oh dear, I thought. She likes big men with wild hair. And you have neither.
Still, maybe Aunt Carrie could be encouraged to consider a wider range of men?
There was a thump and a clatter behind me then, and I turned to see Aunt Carrie standing on the staircase. Suddenly she was leaping across the foyer, shouting, ‘Bear! Bear! It’s you! It’s you!’ and knocking him back through the open front door.
He had gotten skinny too, it turned out. It’s one of the things I learned on my journey: a broken heart can make you cut your hair and become slender.
He’d only stayed married to the other woman a few months, as he’d missed Aunt Carrie too much. Since then, he’d been painting pictures madly to express his sadness.
(Much later, my mother told me that she’d instructed the family lawyers to send the letter to the children, asking them to recreate the painting. Something had whispered to her to do it.)
So that is my story.
I am now, as I mentioned, writing this in a hammock while my dog, Will, sleeps in the grass at my feet. Will is the stray dog from Billy’s dream. I brought him home and named him after Billy.
I’m in the garden of Aunt Isabelle’s apartment: my parents have moved into the guest wing, and Alejandro lives in the blue room in the east wing.
Aunt Isabelle and the Butler travel often these days and are rarely home, so it’s lucky my parents are here.
My mother, as heir to the throne of the Whispering Kingdom, should actually be running the place, but she suggested they try out democracy. They’ve voted to hand over the shadow thread and destroy all their wristbands, and the darkness is fading out of most of them.
While writing this, I have taken breaks, of course
. I haven’t just been lying in the hammock this whole time. I’ve even been away on short trips. I’ve visited Aunt Sue, Uncle Josh and the boys. We ate oranges from the family’s orchard; not quite as delicious now that I’ve tasted a Ricochet orange, but don’t tell Aunt Sue I said that.
I’ve been to see Aunt Emma on Lantern Island (where we had a party on the beach, along with Sugar Rixel, Barnabas, the librarian, and even Detective Riley, while the water sprites splashed in the waves), Aunt Sophy in her dragon hospital (where I practised my Dragon and my Dragon-flight), and Queen Alys and Prince William in the Mellifluous Kingdom (where Walter is now trumpeter). While I was there, the Razdazzle Moonlight Circus came to town, so I also caught up with Taylor, and this time I watched the circus properly.
Billy, Taylor and I had a midnight feast, ate Maywish Chocolate and reminisced about our days on the Riddle and Popcorn Cruise Ship. Billy’s favourite day to recall about was the one where I told them that my cousin, Prince William, was a real handful and that I planned to tame him. He laughed about that until he cried.
Meanwhile, here in Gainsleigh, I’ve been getting to know my parents. They are quieter than I had expected, based on the whirling in the photograph, but they can be very funny, and, on occasion, they dance on the table.
I’ve also begun going to school. Alejandro is in my class, and the two of us are known as the Pirate and the Whisperer. Other children seem a bit frightened of us, which we quite enjoy.
I’ve also been out for lemonade and cakes at the Arlington Tea Room, once with Aunts Maya and Lisbeth (when their ship docked at Gainsleigh for an afternoon), three times with Aunt Carrie and her husband, Bear (both of whom are growing happily sturdy), and most often with my governess, Dee, for old time’s sake.
During my girl-cousins’ most recent school vacation, Aunt Nancy brought them to stay with us for a few days. One night, we were taking tea in the drawing room, and chatting about my adventures.
The Extremely Inconvenient Adventures of Bronte Mettlestone Page 30
