by Tim Hehir
‘You don’t deserve to be set free,’ he said.
Julius put the lamp down and left the workshop. His whole body was trembling. He did not dare to hope that he had found a way. As he rushed past the counter he noticed a book lying on an otherwise empty shelf. It stopped him instantly. It was Darwin’s diary. He placed it carefully on the counter. He knew what he wanted to see but did not have the courage to look. Like an automaton, he forced himself to turn the pages until he came to the portraits Darwin drew. He ran his finger across Emily’s smile. He knew that Tock was propagating the soulcatchers in the Animal House. Could he go back and save Emily and Clara? Could he save everyone?
Julius closed the book and took out the pocketwatch. He spun it in the air as he walked out of the shop. In his mind he imagined the Animal House in the Surrey Zoological Gardens. He had to land there soon after he had left.
CHAPTER 22
Sunday 24th January 1838
11:34 PM
The next thing Julius knew he was tumbling through space in the orbit of the pocketwatch. The stars flashed by as thin white streaks, while the spinning pocketwatch shot through time and space. He tried to hold the image of the Animal House in his mind, but he kept returning to the confession he had to make to Mr Flynn. He would tell him everything. Everything.
Julius felt himself falling and hitting soft ground. The pocketwatch flew to him and he clasped it tight.
He had landed in freezing darkness. Clouds obscured the moon. He listened—low growls rumbled in the air. The Animal House was nearby.
He made a bowl of his hands and blew into them. It seemed like a lifetime ago that he and Emily had walked past here on their way to the Orchid House. Had he come back to the right time? He took out the pocketwatch. A faint glow on its face showed him it was twenty-five minutes to midnight. He pressed his face to the glass dome of the Animal House. Vague, dark shapes moved inside, giving off a continuous chorus of growls and calls.
Julius felt his way to the door. His hands found the padlock. How would he get inside without Emily to pick it for him? He groped in the undergrowth until he found a good-sized rock and smashed it against the padlock. The animals roared. The rock split. He found another one and continued to pound it against the padlock until, finally, it broke.
Inside, the air was warm and pungent. Julius found his way back to the door and felt along the interior, looking for the gas taps. His boots sank into the soft earth as he pushed aside large waxy leaves, feeling along the damp glass. Eventually he found the taps. His fingers fumbled in the dark as he turned on one after the other.
The chandeliers all around the Animal House hissed as they came to life. The dome lit up like a quick sunrise. The animals’ cries rose to a deafening pitch. Julius pushed through the dense undergrowth and emerged on the gravel path. He stared in wonder.
Lions, tigers, hyenas, and baboons roared and howled in their compounds and jumped at the bars. Large monkeys swung, whooping, through the branches. Vultures flicked their open wings and pecked at one another.
Julius ran to the tigers’ compound. They bounded around, crazy with excitement at the unexpected dawn and the juicy little visitor staring at them through the bars. Julius looked at the thick foliage and expanse of rich soil inside the enclosure.
He imagined Tock picking the locks and fearlessly doing his gardening at night, with the wild animals looking on. He was not made of meat. He was like the bars and the gas pipes. He was not prey; he was a machine. He could grow the soulcatchers and harvest them without anyone knowing.
‘Oi,’ said Emily’s voice above the din.
Julius turned to see her standing at the doorway.
‘Emily,’ he shouted, unable to disguise his delight.
Mr Flynn and Darwin joined her a second later, then Abberline and a handful of constables. They all stared at Julius.
‘I know where Tock’s hiding the soulcatchers,’ he shouted and began to laugh.
‘How did you get away?’ said Mr Flynn.
Julius stopped laughing. There was so much to tell. So much to confess. He took the pocketwatch out and showed it to Mr Flynn.
Mr Flynn glanced at it lying on Julius’s open palm then at Julius’s face.
‘Please excuse us for a moment, gentlemen,’ he said.
He grabbed Julius by his shoulder and practically carried him to a far corner of the Animal House. Emily followed.
‘What’s going on?’ said Mr Flynn. ‘This had better be good.’ His face was like a granite carving of a wrathful demon.
Julius had practised his speech a hundred times during the time-jump.
‘I stole the pocketwatch,’ said Julius, above the animal calls all around him. ‘I pretended to put it back, but I didn’t. But it’s worse than that. I found out that I had made a time-loop six years before. It had already happened so I had to go back in time to do what I’d already done.’
‘What are you talking about?’ said Mr Flynn.
‘There’s a drawing in Darwin’s diary of Emily and me as natives. It’s from when we went back it time and stopped Skinner from making a soulcatcher seed Mr Darwin.’ He paused to let Mr Flynn speak.
‘You took Emily with you?’ Mr Flynn said.
‘Yeah,’ said Emily. ‘I ’elped ’im, Mr Flynn. ’e’d ’ave been in right strife if I ’adn’t…’
Mr Flynn’s glare silenced her. ‘Go on,’ he said to Julius.
‘I did a time-jump to escape Abigail, just now,’ said Julius. ‘I went eight years into the future to a London overrun with soulcatchers…possibly a whole world overrun.’
‘And…’ said Mr Flynn.
‘I know how to stop it from happening.’
‘’ow’s that then?’ said Emily.
Mr Flynn glared at her. ‘Do not speak again,’ he said.
Emily reddened.
‘Go on, Julius,’ said Mr Flynn.
‘I found out where Tock is secretly propagating the soulcatchers. Somehow he’ll let them loose all over London. But if we know where he’s growing them we can stop him.’
‘So where’s that, then?’ said Emily.
‘I met Tock in the future,’ said Julius. ‘He’s an automaton and he’s mad. He told me he grew the soulcatchers here, in the Animal House.’
‘In the—?’ said Mr Flynn.
‘It’s perfect,’ said Julius. ‘It’s a hothouse. It’s as warm as Brazil. The soulcatchers Tock gave us and Darwin needed to warm up before they attacked. No one would think of searching here. Look around, there loads of hiding places among the undergrowth, and there’s lions and tigers to guard them.’
Mr Flynn straightened his back and looked up at the domed ceiling, then at the pacing tiger on the other side of the bars. Julius watched Mr Flynn gradually putting it all together in his mind.
‘And they’ve been planted already?’ said Mr Flynn.
‘I’m not sure. If they haven’t, they soon will be,’ said Julius. ‘If we don’t find them we could put a watch on the—’
‘Yes, yes,’ said Mr Flynn, still thinking.
Julius waited. He cast a quick glance at Emily, but she was looking up at the vulture on a branch above them.
‘Good work, Julius,’ said Mr Flynn. ‘Emily said Tock was in the sewer under the Orchid House.’
‘Yes,’ said Julius. ‘He might still be there. He was fishing for rats for his fertiliser.’
Julius felt a weight of nervous tension slide off him, leaving only happy exhaustion. Tock would be stopped. The future London full of soulcatchers would fade away to become nothing more than a potential timeline.
Mr Flynn held out his hand. ‘I’ll take the pocketwatch,’ he said. His expression was kind but resolute.
Julius reached into his pocket and took it out. He didn’t look at it as he handed it over, but he could feel its absence as soon as it landed in Mr Flynn’s hand.
‘You two go home,’ said Mr Flynn. ‘Do you still have the cab fare I gave you?’
‘No,’
said Julius. ‘I lost it.’
‘But we can ’elp,’ said Emily. ‘If Tock’s still in the sewer I can—’
‘Emily,’ said Mr Flynn, almost grinding her name between his teeth. ‘You will do as you are told.’
Julius and Emily sat in their hansom cab with the cabbie’s blanket across their laps as they made their way home through the black streets. They had not spoken since climbing in.
The cold and the rocking of the cab was lulling Julius to sleep. Emily’s head fell against his shoulder. He put his arm around her.
‘Emily, are you awake?’ asked Julius.
‘Yeah. Wot?’ said Emily, when Julius did not speak.
‘Nothing.’
Emily showed her annoyance by burrowing deeper into his side.
‘Wot ’appened?’ said Emily.
‘When?’
‘In the future.’
‘Er, there was no one left,’ he said. ‘Only the soulcatchers.’
‘No one left at all?’
‘Only Tock,’ said Julius, ‘and the toymaker who made him.’
‘So ’e’s an automaton,’ said Emily. ‘I always knew there was somefing wrong about ’im.’
‘Yes, well, the future Tock’s getting the punishment he deserves,’ said Julius. ‘He winds himself with his own key, and he’s stuck in that workshop making his odd friends for eternity.’
‘Wot you talking about?’
‘That wooden box of his, with the vials in it,’ said Julius. ‘It’s empty now and he can’t remember how to make the mixture that lets him go through the walls.’
‘Good,’ said Emily. ‘But here, in our time, Tock’s still lurking about. I’m going back there tomorrow in case Mr Flynn needs me.’
‘I think we should let him calm down a bit before—’
Emily began to snore. Julius held her gently as the cab clattered through the streets.
At Mrs Trevelyan’s Academy, he nudged her awake. ‘Emily, we’re home.’
She groaned and clambered down from the hansom cab. Julius followed her to the back door, where she retrieved the key from under the mat. She opened the door slowly in case it creaked.
‘I thought you’d prefer to pick the lock,’ said Julius.
Emily smirked. His joke had not worked as well he thought it would.
‘Thank for coming to my rescue,’ he said. ‘Abigail would have got me if it wasn’t for you.’
‘It weren’t naffing,’ she said. She crept inside and was just about to close the door.
‘Emily,’ said Julius.
‘Can’t stop,’ she said. ‘Got to be up early to ’elp Mr Flynn.’
‘I’m sorry for what I said. You know I didn’t mean it.’
Julius heard the swish of her cape as she walked away. He stared into the dark corridor.
‘Emily.’
But she was gone.
CHAPTER 23
Monday 22nd January 1838
8:02 AM
Julius woke with a start. Where are you, Higgins?
Everything was soft and warm. What was that sound? He looked up at his bedroom ceiling then slumped back onto his pillow and sighed. The cold at the tip of his nose, along with the warmth under his many blankets, was the usual winter’s morning greeting, as were the sounds of his grandfather clattering around downstairs.
Julius suspected his grandfather made the noise out of spite—if he had to get up to light the fire and make the porridge every morning, then Julius would hear every sound of it. Julius made a mental note to offer to share the morning duties in future.
Outside, someone ran down the street—a boy, off to the bakers for warm rolls, no doubt. He could hear the scrunch of snow beneath the boy’s feet. Julius closed his eyes again. The memories of last night and the time-jump had the quality of a dream. Impossible events made of mist and shadows. The thought of Clara caught in that silent scream in St Paul’s now seemed too fantastic to have ever been real. Maybe it was a dream?
Suddenly, he wanted to see Clara again more than anything else.
He leapt out of his warm bed. With the expertise of a circus contortionist, he dressed in seconds, before frostbite took hold, and then ran down the stairs, surprising his grandfather.
‘Good morning, young Caesar,’ Mr Higgins said as he set the table. ‘Eager to be at school, I see.’
‘School?’
‘Yes, you remember. The place of elucidation you go to every Monday.’
‘It’s Monday?’
‘Are you quite well, my boy? Been up to mischief with Mr Flynn? I didn’t hear you come in last night. You’ve not been drinking, I hope.’
‘No.’
Mr Higgins went to the kitchen. Julius heard the porridge being stirred. His mother would be sitting at breakfast in the servants’ hall at Walworth House at this very moment. Emily would be sneaking out of the back door of Mrs Trevelyan’s and marching to the Animal House to offer Mr Flynn her assistance.
When Mr Higgins came back with the porridge he found Julius pacing in front of the fire.
‘Sit down, young Caesar,’ he said as he placed the steaming bowl on the table.
‘Grandfather?’ said Julius.
‘Yes,’ said Mr Higgins, as he poured the regulation amount of milk over his porridge. It seemed to take all his concentration.
‘I saw Mama again,’ said Julius.
Mr Higgins stopped pouring. He put down the milk jug with great deliberation and slowly poured himself a cup of tea.
‘I see,’ he said.
‘I think we should invite her to tea.’
Julius waited for his grandfather’s reply, listening to the tea trickle into the cup.
His grandfather reserved this behaviour to express his displeasure—the slow, deliberate dealing with the everyday things of life. He poured the milk and stirred the tea. Then tapped the side of the cup twice to make it ring.
The muscles in Julius’s shoulders tensed—he hated that sound.
Mr Higgins sipped his tea and returned the cup to the saucer. ‘I thought we had agreed, young Caesar,’ he said. ‘Just you and me.’ He began to spoon the honey into his porridge.
‘I know, but…’
He looked up when Julius stopped. ‘We will not speak of this again. I don’t understand why you insist on trying to mend the past.’
Suddenly it was as if every cell in Julius’s body burst apart.
‘Because I don’t want to end up a bitter old man, like you,’ he shouted.
Mr Higgins jumped, dropping his spoon. He glared across the table at Julius.
Julius glared back, startled by his own outburst.
‘Bad blood. I knew it,’ said Mr Higgins. He pushed his chair back and made for the stairs.
‘Where are you going?’ said Julius. The rage had escaped; it would not be easily put back.
‘To lie down,’ said his grandfather.
‘Don’t do this, Grandfather.’
Mr Higgins spun round in anger. ‘Do what, pray tell?’
‘Walk away. You always do that.’
‘I will return when you are capable of rational debate.’
‘I’m going to invite her.’
‘No, you are not.’
Julius felt his rage boiling under his skin. He wanted to smash everything in the parlour, just to see the look on his grandfather’s face.
But he knew he would not do it. He slumped back into his chair.
‘I just want a proper family.’ He had not known it until he said it. The solid truth of it calmed him. He stared at the carpet. ‘I just want to have my mother home for tea,’ he said, almost in a whisper.
‘Are you and I not a family?’ said his grandfather.
Julius kept his eyes on the carpet, following the swirling lines of its pattern.
‘Mama said you brought me up when you didn’t have to. She said I should never forget that.’
‘Did she?’
‘She knows she broke your heart. She’s sorry.’ Julius waited for
his grandfather to speak. But he did not. ‘I know what it’s like to be angry with someone you love,’ said Julius. ‘To tell them to go away. Later, you’re sorry, but by then it’s too late to mend it—but you still have to try.’
Julius heard his grandfather sit down in his fireside chair.
‘She shouldn’t be sorry, Julius,’ he said. ‘She brought you into the world.’
Julius was not sure he heard his grandfather correctly. He looked at the back of his head.
‘Can she come to tea?’ he said.
His grandfather kept his face turned away, staring into the fire. ‘Very well,’ he said, quietly.
‘I’ll go and tell her.’
‘Now?’
‘Yes. I have to be at the Surrey Zoological Gardens this morning. It’s just next door.’
‘Surrey Zoo…what the devil are you going there for?’
‘I’m meeting Mr Flynn,’ said Julius.
‘But it’s a school day?’
‘You can write a note for me. Say I’ve caught a chill.’
Julius ran out to the shop and snatched a sheet of his grandfather’s personalised stationery. He plonked it down with the inkpot and quill on his grandfather’s reading table.
Mr Higgins’s hand hung poised over the blank page. It was all Julius could do to stop himself from grabbing the old man’s hand and writing the words for him. Just then Julius noticed Harrison’s diary still tucked down the side of his chair.
‘Get some cake on the way back,’ said Mr Higgins, rummaging through his coin purse. ‘Any kind. And some sugared apricots.
‘Pardon?’ said Julius. He was looking at the diary, trying to think.
‘Sugared apricots.’
‘Er, yes. We’ll have to tidy up a bit,’ said Julius.
‘Tidy up?
‘It’s all right, I’ll do it when I get back.’
In one movement he plucked the diary up, snatched the note from his grandfather’s hand and ran for the curtain. In the bookshop he slid Harrison’s diary back into its in-full-view hiding place.
He looked at its spine for a moment longer, and then pushed it into its place.
You have to tell Mr Flynn you have the diary, Higgins. Tell him the moment you see him.
