by Gwyneth Rees
‘Tom, I don’t think the maid knew very much at all,’ Ava said. ‘But don’t worry – we’re going to do our best to help you find him.’
‘Can you remember where you used to live before, Tom?’ Ava’s father asked now.
Tom told him the name of the street, adding, ‘It were in another part o’ London – quite far away from ’ere I think, for I remember it took us a long time to get ’ere. We walked for ages and we caught a few rides. And we had to sleep overnight in the street a couple o’ times. We didn’t have no money by then, what with father’s sickness an’ all . . .’
‘I think that might be the best place to start looking,’ Ava’s dad said. ‘Your father may have moved back there by now or at least got in touch with some of your old friends and neighbours. We’ll get ourselves a map of London and find your old street. Oh – and there’s one more thing that might help us. Can you tell us if he had a specific trade he might have gone back to? What was his job before your mother died?
‘He were a carpenter, sir,’ Tom said. ‘He told me that’s how he met our mother – he was working on making some stage props – scenery and the like – when he saw her rehearsing. She looked like a butterfly flitting about the stage, so he said.’
‘I see . . . well . . .’ Ava’s dad looked thoughtful. ‘If that was his job before, then it’s probably worth enquiring about him in all the theatres closest to where you used to live.’
‘What about the theatres here, Dad?’ Ava suggested. ‘I’m sure he’d want to stay near here to look for Tom and Florrie.’
‘I don’t know, Ava,’ her father replied. ‘Tom’s father may well have begun his search here – but that was six months ago. What if he’s given up by now? Surely he’d return to a place that was familiar to him?’
‘But he won’t have given up!’ Ava protested. ‘I know he won’t!’
‘This is a much posher area than where we used to live,’ Tom said, frowning. ‘I can’t say as I’d know where to begin lookin’ for him ’ereabouts.’
Ava immediately pointed to the theatre directly in front of them. ‘What about there?’ she said. ‘He’s bound to have passed by it at some point and he might have gone in to ask if they had any work.’
‘Well, it’s certainly worth me having a quick word with the theatre manager now we’re here,’ her dad conceded. ‘You two wait out here. I won’t be long.’
‘You better stand apart from me, miss,’ Tom said as the two children waited together on the pavement. ‘We’re gettin’ a lot o’ strange looks stood together like this.’
But Ava shook her head. ‘It’s obvious we’re together, no matter how far apart we stand. Look! I’m almost as sooty as you are now!’ She pointed down at her cream blouse, which was badly smudged with soot from where she had embraced him before.
‘Don’t be daft, miss!’ Tom protested indignantly. ‘Why, you’re as clean as a whistle, you is!’
Ava couldn’t help smiling, because it was true that almost anyone, no matter how dirty, would seem as clean as a whistle compared with Tom.
It was only a few minutes later when Ava’s father rejoined them.
‘Did you find out anything?’ Ava asked him eagerly.
Her dad shook his head. ‘The manager isn’t here today and nobody else seemed willing to talk to me. Apparently he’ll be back tomorrow morning so we can speak to him then if we want.’
Tom frowned. ‘So what do we do now?’
‘We wait – though not here of course.’
And together they headed back towards Madame Varty’s.
As soon as they stepped inside Madame Varty’s drawing room Florrie shrieked in delight at being reunited with her brother, and Madame Varty had to hold her back from rushing forward to hug him.
‘Jus’ look at yer!’ Tom burst out when he saw his sister. She was wearing a brand-new paleblue full-skirted dress and pinafore, with a pair of white cotton drawers trimmed with lace poking out from beneath. Her roughly cropped hair had been made to look prettier with the help of an Alice band, and on her feet she wore a pair of soft satin slip-on shoes. ‘You look like a proper little lady!’ he gasped.
‘Are you feeling better, Madame Varty?’ Ava’s father asked politely.
‘Why yes, I am, thank you,’ she replied. ‘I shall just have to take care to properly rest my leg for the remainder of the day, that is all. I’m afraid too much standing makes my knee quite swollen.’ She sat down stiffly on the nearest chair, indicating that Ava and her father should also sit. Tom, she directed out into the hall, instructing him to stay there, while Florrie was sent to fetch Violet.
As they waited for the maid to arrive, Ava’s dad told Madame Varty the plan he had come up with so far. ‘I propose that Tom and I go back to his old neighbourhood tomorrow and see if we can find out anything about his father. Then I think we should start contacting some theatres in case he’s found work again in one of them.’
‘We should start with the theatre we just went to, Dad,’ Ava reminded him.
Her dad nodded. ‘Perhaps you could help us with that, Madame Varty, since you know the manager there?’
Madame Varty inclined her head slowly. ‘I am acquainted with him, yes, and I shall be glad to take Ava and Florrie with me to enquire there tomorrow.’
Violet appeared then and Madame Varty summoned Tom back into the room. ‘I want you to go straight in the bath now, Tom,’ Madame Varty told him firmly. ‘Then we shall see what we can find you to wear. The shop where we bought your sister’s clothes normally closes around now, but I think they will be persuaded to stay open a little longer if I send Violet across with another order.’
‘I’ve asked for some tea to be prepared for Florrie in the parlour, Madame. I hope that’s all right,’ the smiling maid said as she bustled Tom away for his bath.
Madame Varty nodded approvingly, calling after her, ‘Thank you, Violet – and please tell Mrs Potter that I shall only require a very light supper myself tonight.’ After the maid had gone she commented, ‘Violet is such a helpful girl.’
‘Unlike Mrs Potter,’ Ava couldn’t help adding – and when Madame Varty looked at her questioningly, Ava decided to fill her in. After relating all her unpleasant encounters with the housekeeper that day, she added, ‘You’d better watch she isn’t cruel to Florrie when you’re not there to see it, Madame. And I don’t think she likes children in general, so I reckon she might not be very nice to your other ballet pupils either.’
Madame Varty was frowning. ‘Do you know, I’ve had an uncomfortable feeling about that woman ever since I met her. She was with my great-aunt for a long time and she seemed to run the house well enough. There were one or two things about her manner that I thought were odd, but I decided to give her a try since she obviously knew the house and the local area so well. However, now that you’ve told me all this, Ava, I think I shall try and find a new housekeeper as soon as I can.’
Ava felt relieved, mainly for Florrie – though it also crossed her mind that perhaps Florrie wouldn’t be living with Madame Varty after all if she found her father. ‘You’ll still give Florrie a place in your school even if she isn’t living here with you, won’t you, Madame Varty?’ she asked now.
‘Of course,’ Madame Varty replied. ‘The child can be a day pupil if she wishes. But if she does prefer to reside here with me I will ensure that she sees her family whenever she wants.’
There came a natural pause in the conversation after that and Ava’s father glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. ‘We had better leave you in peace, Madame Varty,’ he said politely. ‘What time would you like us to call on you tomorrow?’
‘Shall we say ten o’clock? I will have the carriage ready and it can drop us off at the theatre and take you and Tom on to wherever it is you need to go. The girls and I can walk home afterwards.’
‘Are you sure that won’t be too far for you?’ Ava’s father asked in concern.
‘Oh, no. I like to take a certain amount of exercise e
ach day,’ Madame Varty replied crisply. ‘It stops me from getting too stiff and becoming even more of a cripple.’ She gave a dismissive little laugh, but a pained expression had flitted across her face in those few unguarded seconds, and Ava was quick to spot it.
‘I’m so sorry about what happened to you, Madame Varty!’ she blurted out passionately. ‘I bet you were a wonderful ballet dancer before you hurt your knee!’
And Madame Varty’s eyes filled with tears as she replied sharply, ‘Good gracious, Ava! What an extraordinarily outspoken child you are!’
‘I hope Marietta isn’t too cross when she sees the state these ballet clothes are in,’ Ava said to her dad when they were safely back through the magic portal.
The furniture shop had been closed by the time they got there, but when Ava’s dad had rung the bell the old man had let them in anyway. Apparently he lived above the shop and was happy to let them in and out whenever they wished. ‘If ever I’m not here, come round the back and there’ll always be a key under the flowerpot by the door,’ he told them.
Ava frowned now as she put the pile of grubby ballet clothes down on the sofa in Marietta’s Victorian room. Only the floral hair wreath, which Madame Varty had also returned, still looked as good as new.
‘Don’t worry,’ her dad reassured her. ‘Marietta will probably just send them straight off to the dry-cleaner’s.’ As Ava looked surprised he added, ‘A very special dry-cleaner’s, you understand.’
Ava guessed that he must mean a dry-cleaning shop run by a travelling family – one that specialized in the cleaning of magic clothes. ‘An awful lot of travelling families seem to have shops of one kind or another, don’t they?’ she commented thoughtfully as she kicked off her uncomfortable Victorian shoes.
‘Every community needs the right shops and businesses to keep it running smoothly,’ Dad replied. ‘And since our community needs ones that can only be provided by ourselves—’
‘I thought I heard you in here,’ Marietta’s breezy voice interrupted him from the doorway.
‘Marietta!’ Ava and her father both exclaimed at once.
Ava was worried her dad would immediately start interrogating his sister about why she had failed so spectacularly in her childminding duties that day, so she blurted out the first thing that came into her head. ‘Marietta, has your father’s friend come yet?’
‘Whose friend?’ Dad asked in surprise.
As Ava let out a dismayed gasp, Marietta said quickly, ‘Don’t worry, Ava. I was about to tell your dad in any case.’
‘Tell me what?’ Dad demanded impatiently.
And Marietta quickly explained to him about the visitor she had been expecting, adding, ‘He finally arrived a couple of hours ago. I didn’t recognize him but he seemed genuine enough. He said his and Dad’s families were very close when they were boys. Apparently he hasn’t seen or heard from our parents in a very long time, and certainly not since they disappeared twelve years ago. But recently he met some mutual acquaintance of theirs – someone else our father and he both knew when they were young. Anyway, this person gave him an envelope. He wouldn’t say how he had come by it, just that it was to be passed on to us and that no one else must know.’
‘An envelope?’ Dad sounded tense.
‘Here.’ Marietta reached into her pocket and pulled out a small white envelope, already opened, which had both their names written on the front in very distinctive loopy handwriting.
As Ava’s dad took it from her he gasped. ‘Surely that’s Mum’s writing?’
‘That’s what I thought too.’
Dad’s hand was trembling slightly as he pulled out two small cards from inside. ‘Invitations to a fancy-dress party!’ he exclaimed in surprise.
‘There’s one for each of us,’ Marietta said.
‘Can I see?’ Ava asked at once, but her dad scarcely seemed to hear her as he studied both invitations closely.
‘It doesn’t give the date of the party or say where it is,’ he grunted.
‘I know, but there was a verbal message too,’ Marietta said. ‘Apparently we must take these invitations with us whenever we travel anywhere from now on, making sure we check them every time we pass through a portal to see if the date and location have appeared. Then . . . and I quote . . . one day Otto and Marietta will see their parents again . . .’
‘This man actually said that?’
Marietta nodded. ‘So I asked him if he thought the invitations worked in the same way as those theatre tickets . . . that if we take them through the right portal the magic will cause the rest of the details to appear so that we can actually go to this party . . . and he said he presumed so and that he guessed that was where we’d get to see our parents again . . . though it does all seem pretty farfetched to me!’
‘Of course it’s far-fetched!’ Dad’s face was flushed and he sounded very emotional. ‘Our parents destroyed the portal they travelled through, and you know as well as I do what that means, Marietta! It means there’s no way anyone can ever follow them and no way we can ever see them again – not at some secret fancy-dress party or anywhere else!’
Marietta frowned. ‘I know all that . . . of course I do . . . unless . . . well . . .’ She spoke cautiously, lowering her voice as if she was afraid of being overheard. ‘Otto, I know it’s practically unheard of, but what if they’ve worked out an indirect route to travel to wherever it is they are?’
Ava’s father let out a dismissive snort. ‘Indirect routes are notoriously impossible to map out unless you’re some kind of time-and-space-travelling genius! It would take forever to make the calculations – and a much sharper brain than either of theirs to do it successfully.’
‘I agree it would take a long time – but twelve years is a long time,’ Marietta persisted. ‘And I think our parents were always a lot cleverer than you gave them credit for, Otto. I think that’s why they were always exploring places no one else wanted to go. They were trying to discover more about the portal system and how it works – sort of researching it if you like.’
But Dad just shook his head as if the whole idea was preposterous.
‘So does this mean we won’t get to see them after all?’ Ava asked slowly in a disappointed voice after they had both fallen silent.
‘Ava . . . I’m sorry . . .’ Dad responded at once, as if only just realizing the effect their conversation might be having on her. ‘We really shouldn’t be discussing all this in front of you . . .’ He glanced quickly at his sister for help.
Marietta backed him up immediately. ‘Your dad’s right, Ava. The truth is that it’s very unlikely we’ll ever see our parents again, and it certainly isn’t something you should get your hopes up about.’
‘But will you take those invitations with you every time you go through a portal from now on?’ Ava persisted, looking from one of them to the other.
Marietta let out a small laugh. ‘I probably will,’ she answered. ‘You know me – clutching at straws and all that! I really don’t expect anything to come of it though.’
‘And what about you, Dad?’ Ava asked him when he didn’t reply.
Her dad frowned. ‘It would be totally ridiculous even to entertain the idea, Ava,’ he told her firmly. But there was something about his response – maybe it was the way he avoided looking at her as he spoke – which made Ava decide not to press him further. Instead she gave him a big hug.
Her father squeezed her back and let out a barely audible sigh before continuing awkwardly, ‘OK then, Ava . . . well . . . I suppose it’s time I went and got changed out of these clothes . . .’ As he headed for the dressing room he glanced at Marietta, who was standing quietly watching him. ‘I don’t suppose you could rustle us up some pasta or something, could you, Marietta? Then Ava and I must go home and make sure we both have an early night. We need to be nice and fresh for the day that lies ahead of us tomorrow.’
‘Oh – and what sort of day is that?’ Marietta asked him curiously.
‘It’s a
long story,’ her brother replied. ‘But I’m sure Ava will happily tell you all about it over supper, won’t you, Ava?’
11
‘It seems you were quite right to suggest that we ask here first, Ava!’ Madame Varty declared the following morning.
Back on the Victorian side of the portal, Ava had accompanied Madame Varty and Florrie to the theatre while her father and Tom (who was looking like a completely different boy after his bath and change of clothes) had taken the carriage to the children’s old neighbourhood. The two girls had been waiting patiently outside while Madame Varty went in to speak with the theatre manager, and now she emerged with a smile on her face, having clearly received some unexpectedly good news.
‘Apparently a man did offer his services here as a stage carpenter a few weeks back, just after the first advertisements for the ballet went up,’ she told them. ‘He said that he didn’t want money in exchange for his work, but that instead he wanted to be allowed to attend the ballet performance every night. The manager thought that was rather strange, but he offered him the use of a cheap seat up in the gallery. Anyway, this man accepted his offer and he came here and did a full day’s work every day while they were getting the set ready. The manager doesn’t know where he lives, but he doesn’t think it can be that far away because he’s been coming here nearly every night without fail to watch the performance. The man told him his wife was a ballet dancer before she died, and that watching the ballet reminds him of her.’
‘Wow!’ Ava exclaimed. ‘That certainly sounds like it could be your father, doesn’t it, Florrie?’
Florrie nodded, looking like she could hardly believe it.
‘Oh, but this is wonderful!’ Ava cried out, rushing forward to hug Madame Varty, who looked extremely taken aback by her sudden show of affection.
