by Webb, Holly
‘Won’t it be easier if I help too?’ Lily agreed eagerly. ‘The spell to tidy us up worked well, didn’t it? Teach me how to make the glamour, Georgie, please.’
‘We can try,’ Georgie said doubtfully. ‘But last time I only changed the colour of my shoes, and even that gave me the most dreadful headache. Making both of us old might kill me.’
Henrietta simply stared at her, and Georgie gave a sulky sigh. ‘Oh, very well! But if it all goes wrong, remember this was your idea!’ She grabbed Lily’s hand, and pulled her over into the corner of the gallery, sitting down on the floor with a decided flounce.
‘This is going to take a lot of our power, Lily. You need to use all your magic. Can you remember how it felt when you pulled Henrietta out of the portrait? That must be the biggest spell you’ve done so far, I think.’
Lily shook her head, looking up at Georgie worriedly. ‘I didn’t mean to do it – it happened. Henrietta did it, not me.’
‘I most certainly did not.’ Henrietta came to sit in front of them, her tongue sticking out a little. It made her look very earnest, and rather silly. ‘You called me. I don’t have any magic. I know a lot about it, from living with Arabel. But you brought me out of that picture all by yourself, and you made it so I could talk – you said that you wanted someone to talk to, didn’t you?’
‘You really didn’t mean to?’ Georgie asked, leaning forward to scan Lily’s face anxiously.
‘No!’ Lily felt like crying. She was useless after all.
‘Unconscious magic, then…’ Georgie shook her head, her eyes dark and round. ‘That’s the most powerful of all.’ Then she let out a funny, half-bitter little laugh. ‘It looks like Mama finally got what she wanted. You’re the one they were trying to breed, Lily. A natural.’
‘Don’t be angry with me,’ Lily said pleadingly.
‘I’m not.’ Georgie squeezed her hand. ‘I think I’m nervous more than anything. There must be so much magic inside you, Lily. I’m a bit worried that it might all spill out. The wrong way.’
‘What does that mean?’ Lily demanded, her heart jumping fearfully.
Georgie shrugged. ‘Absolutely no idea. But we ought to be able to manage a glamour, anyway.’ She seized Lily’s hands, and sat with her eyes closed, breathing slowly, her teeth biting into her underlip. Henrietta wriggled close to Lily, and leaned on her. She looked up, and bared her teeth a little in a disturbing sort of grin. ‘I like to feel the magic. It’s buzzy.’
Lily nodded, and watched Georgie, feeling strangely nervous. She had no idea how a glamour spell worked, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to change the way she looked.
‘Lily!’ Georgie opened her eyes and glared. ‘You’re blocking the spell. Stop it!’
‘I didn’t mean to…’ Lily shook herself, trying to dislodge the fear and let the magic work. She could feel Georgie trying now, the magic prickling her skin, making the little hairs stand up on her arms.
‘Breathe, Lily…’ Henrietta growled in her ear.
Lily gulped. She had forgotten. She sucked in air, gasping, and suddenly Georgie’s magic washed over her as if she’d breathed it in. Her eyes widened as she felt her own power dancing to meet it. When she had helped with the tidying spell, she had felt a little strange, as though she had pins and needles all over. This was different; strong and real – and wonderful.
Georgie was chanting again, but Lily could hardly hear the words, she was so caught up in the whirling dance of the magic in her veins. Then she felt a strange, aching shimmer all over, and her skin crawled on her bones. Fascinated and horrified, she stretched out her fingers in front of her, and they were no longer hers. They were an old lady’s fingers, bony and gnarled, and clad in old-fashioned fingerless lace gloves. Lily stared at them for a moment, and then lifted them to her face, stroking the sagging flesh of her cheeks, and the folds under her chin.
Henrietta was looking between them, her little mouth gaping. ‘So quick,’ she muttered at last. ‘And complete to a shade. Even the clothes. The little lace shawl crossed over your chest like that, Lily. And the cameo brooch! Georgie, you look like Arabel’s grandmother, it’s quite disturbing. She did not like dogs.’
Georgie was smirking proudly, an odd expression on the face of a seventy-year-old woman. ‘Would you let out lodgings to us now, Lily?’ she asked, her voice high and quavering, yet strangely still her own.
Lily shuddered, but nodded. ‘How long will it last?’
Georgie’s wrinkled face twisted, as though she were in pain. ‘I’m holding on to it,’ she explained. ‘You have to keep it going, in the back of your mind, all the time. If I go to sleep, it’ll wear off.’
‘Well, you can’t stay awake all night. Not after last night, when we hardly slept either. We know we can do the spell now, so can’t we just do it again tomorrow?’
Georgie looked at her regretfully, like a painter being asked to spoil her masterpiece. ‘You’re sure you can help me recast it tomorrow?’ she demanded.
‘I think so.’ Lily closed her eyes for a moment, and fumbled for the magic inside her. It was the oddest feeling. The magic seemed always to have been there, without her knowing what it was. Now that she recognised it, it wasn’t hard to find – it leaped eagerly into her eyes and her mouth and her fingers as she came looking for it, and she laughed from pure pleasure as it glittered inside her.
‘Lily, you’re shining, stop it,’ Henrietta hissed.
‘Oh! I didn’t realise I was doing it outside too!’ Lily looked down at her fingers, and they were her own again, but now they glowed and sparkled and shimmered as she turned them admiringly this way and that. ‘Is it a bad thing to do?’ she asked Henrietta and Georgie worriedly. She liked it.
‘No, only rather obvious,’ Henrietta muttered uncomfortably. ‘And it just looks wrong. I don’t like it, Lily, put it out.’
‘I think I remembered it from the light spell you made last night,’ Lily explained, but Georgie grimaced. ‘Mine was never that…extravagant. Doesn’t it make you feel tired?’
Lily shook her head. ‘It feels wonderful,’ she whispered. She shook her hands, and the light scattered away like little dancing dust motes, which floated twinkling around the room. Lily blinked as she watched a few glittering sparkles land on a large stuffed crocodile, hanging in metal bands from the ceiling. It was a sad, faded-looking thing, its scales flaking away from age and neglect, but as the light shimmered over it, it seemed to twitch, and old, long-rotted muscles flexed under the skin, before it sank into sleep again. Lily looked down at her fingers nervously.
‘We should go to bed,’ Henrietta said firmly. ‘I’m not used to all this gallivanting about. Pull some of those old robes at the back of the gallery down here, Lily, and we’ll pile them up in this corner, out of sight of the door. Not that I think anyone will do more than steal in to put out the lights – if they even get that far.’
Lily nodded. Until the rush of magic had swallowed her up, she had been desperately hungry, but now her empty stomach was only a vague irritation, tucked away behind the sparkle of the magic still inside her.
Lily heaved the heavy, gold embroidered cloaks from the mannequins, half sneezing at the clouds of dust that she disturbed, and Georgie borrowed a pinch of yellowish powder from a little earthenware pot, and sprinkled it lavishly around their hiding place, muttering soft, secretive words to turn any prying eyes away.
Then they slept, curled in a nest of scratchy velvet, and safely surrounded by the things of home.
The light filtered through the small high windows slowly, and the girls woke late, to find Henrietta sitting in front of them looking grumpy.
‘Did you scratch me?’ Lily asked, rubbing her foot.
Henrietta ignored the question majestically, and fixed accusing eyes on Lily. ‘When you have a dog, there are certain things you have to learn. One of which is the importance of regular mealtimes. In the last sixty years, all I have had to eat is six biscuits, and they were stale. We need to go
and find me some food. You too, probably.’
‘I gave you half of everything Martha gave me, the day we ran away!’ Lily protested. But there hadn’t been much to share. Now that Henrietta mentioned it, the magic that had subdued her hunger yesterday had settled down, and she was starving again.
Georgie looked as though she didn’t mind as much. She was running her fingers through her hair and humming to herself, and the more she hummed, the glossier the hair became.
‘That’s your fault,’ Lily muttered to Henrietta. ‘She never bothered about it before.’
‘Good.’ Henrietta nodded approvingly. ‘Care of one’s coat is very important. But in this case, useless.’ She nipped at Georgie’s sleeve. ‘Remember the glamour. It looks very nice now, but no one will see it.’
Georgie sighed. ‘Yes. But I’ll know it’s nice underneath. It’s like wearing your best petticoat, isn’t it?’
Lily stared at her doubtfully. She only had two petticoats, and neither of them were nice enough to be called best. Georgie seemed to realise this suddenly, for she flushed pink, and hugged her. ‘Let’s do the glamour, and then we can go and get something to eat. I’m hungry too. I’m just used to it – Mama had breakfast in bed, so I never got anything before lunch. Hold my hands again.’
‘We should put these away first. I’m sure I was shorter as an old lady, I don’t think I could reach. Do you think anyone will notice they’re a bit crumpled?’ Lily shook out a gold and red silken affair worriedly. Then she glanced around the dusty gallery and smiled sadly. ‘No, I suppose not.’
Georgie swept the ring of yellow powder away to join the rest of the dust on the floor, and then they stood in the middle of the gallery, hand in hand, to cast the glamour again. This time Lily searched for her magic eagerly, sending it out to join Georgie’s, and trying to remember the words Georgie had spoken the night before. There was the same odd shimmering feeling as her skin shrivelled and changed, and in front of her Georgie was a stooped old woman again.
‘Excellent,’ Henrietta said. ‘Now food, please. It feels late enough for the museum to be open, don’t you think?’
Lily nodded. ‘Yes. But won’t they know they haven’t seen us come in?’
Henrietta shrugged. ‘Two little old ladies are hardly likely to have spent the night in the museum, are they? They will assume you slipped in when their backs were turned.’
Lily opened the gallery door, and peered out. No one was around, and they set off down the corridor, trying to walk slowly, rather than run as they really wanted to.
Eventually they emerged into the great hall, and Georgie led the way across the marble floor in a stately manner. She had furnished herself with a particularly impressive bonnet this time, for moral support, and a beribboned umbrella that Lily recognised as an imitation of the one the lady at Lacefield station had been carrying. The lace ruching on her bonnet nodded grandly as she stalked towards the doors, ignoring the two guards, who were watching them in puzzlement.
‘Madam!’
Georgie had her hand on the door, and she cast a desperate glance at Lily, clearly wondering if they should simply run.
Lily glared at her, and turned with a sweet smile to the approaching guard.
‘Was there something?’
The man took off his hat, and Lily’s smile deepened. She had been modelling her tone on Mama. ‘Only that we didn’t see you come in, ma’am…’
‘But clearly we did…’ Lily raised her eyebrows at him.
‘We’ve only been open these last ten minutes…’
Lily glanced accusingly at Henrietta, and then nodded at the guard. ‘Indeed. My sister and I came to see the – er –’
‘Beetles!’ Georgie put in hurriedly, and then went pink. ‘Yes. We are most interested in beetles…’ she added, her voice failing as she saw Lily rolling her eyes.
‘But we couldn’t find any, and so we are leaving.’ Lily was poised to make a run for it, but the guard was nodding helpfully. ‘Oh, yes indeed, ma’am. The beetles is all gone now, over to the new Natural History Museum, these last nine years.’
‘Are they? Are they indeed?’ Lily said gratefully. ‘Well, it is some time since we have visited London. We’re most grateful for your assistance. Come, Georgiana.’ And she hurried Georgie and Henrietta out, before Georgie gave way to giggles entirely.
‘Beetles! What were you thinking?’ she hissed, as they pattered down the steps.
‘I wasn’t!’ Georgie gasped, still laughing. ‘I knew we had to say something, and I couldn’t think of anything. Beetles just came into my head. And I was right, anyway!’
‘We were lucky, you mean,’ Lily said severely. ‘Come on. Let’s find something to eat.’
They were hurrying out along the street now, unsure which way to go, but simply eager to be away from the museum. At last they emerged from the warren of little streets onto a main road, already busy with carriages, and full of people.
‘It’s all very well, all these shops,’ Lily murmured, licking her lips in front of the window of a baker’s. ‘But we can hardly buy a cake and eat it in the street.’
‘Oh, Lily, look! Over there. Little tables, and there are other ladies sitting at them. Can’t we go there?’
At the corner of the road was a smartly painted shop, with large plate-glass windows, and Aerated Bread Co. in large letters above them. Neat white-clothed tables filled the inside, and a girl about Georgie’s age was pouring tea for a pair of middle-aged ladies.
Most unfortunately, in the window was a small notice, reading NO DOGS.
Henrietta’s jowls drooped. ‘Oh, and a cup of tea was exactly what I wanted,’ she whispered in Lily’s ear. ‘What? Am I not allowed to like tea? Arabel used to put it in a saucer for me.’
‘Could you hide in one of the bags, and we could feed you under the table?’ Lily suggested tentatively, not sure if this undignified suggestion would get her bitten.
‘Oh, very well,’ Henrietta muttered ungraciously. ‘But don’t make a habit of it.’ Lily quickly undid her bag, and Henrietta burrowed her way in. ‘Don’t do it up too tightly!’ a small voice murmured from inside, as they pushed the door open.
There was a buzz of polite chatter, and a clinking of teacups, and Lily sighed happily at the delicious smells coming from the back of the teashop. Suddenly she was so hungry it was almost painful.
‘We didn’t make our hats big enough,’ Georgie muttered, as they sat down at a little round table in the window, and a girl bustled over to serve them. ‘Look at that one!’
Lily wrinkled her nose. ‘It’s got a bird in it, Georgie. That’s just silly. Er, tea, please. And toast,’ she added to the waitress. She wasn’t sure what else to ask for – her breakfast was almost always bread and cheese, or a bowl of porridge eaten in the kitchen, while Mrs Porter glared at her, and arranged a delicate tray for Violet to carry up to Mama.
The carpet bag at her feet wriggled furiously, and whined. The waitress looked around in confusion, and Lily had to fake a coughing fit. The waitress hurried off to fetch a glass of water, and Lily kicked the bag – very gently.
‘Shh!’ Georgie hissed, leaning down as if she was fussing with her umbrella.
‘Bacon…’ the bag moaned. ‘Toast, honestly!’
‘Thank you,’ Lily took the glass of water, and sipped it, trying to look ladylike. Several of the other customers had turned to stare. ‘Would you have any bacon?’
The bag sighed happily, and Lily tried not to snigger.
‘I feel much, much better now,’ Henrietta practically purred in Lily’s ear. They had decided that in the busy streets it was best for Lily to carry her, after she had quite audibly told one hurrying gentleman that he was an idiot and a clodpole when he stepped on her paw. Luckily he had thought it was Georgie speaking, and had apologised quite profusely.
‘So do I!’ Lily agreed. ‘Although you nearly gave us away.’
‘It isn’t breakfast without bacon,’ Henrietta muttered. ‘Fancy thi
nking I only wanted toast! Anyway. Now we need to find somewhere to stay. I suggest that after our dismal failure yesterday, you allow me to sniff out somewhere respectable.’
‘Can you do that?’ Georgie whispered doubtfully.
‘Of course I can!’ the pug snapped back. ‘It’s easy. Lily, put me down. Oh, don’t worry! I promise not to talk. Although if any more idiots step on me, I might bite.’
So the two old ladies followed the little black pug dog on a roundabout route through London, pausing occasionally for Henrietta to sniff her way thoroughly around a building, before she changed her mind.
‘Haven’t you found anywhere yet?’ Georgie hissed some time later, pretending to poke at a leaf with the point of her umbrella, so she could talk to Henrietta. ‘I’m sure we’ve been down this street twice!’
‘I know. We came back, because I wasn’t sure, but now I am. Yes, this smells very good,’ Henrietta looked up at the tall sugar-white building they were walking past.
‘But this is a theatre, not a lodging house!’ Lily drew into the shadows of an archway and pretended to examine a poster for a variety show. ‘We can’t live here!’
‘It smells right,’ Henrietta insisted stubbornly.
‘Shh!’ Lily hissed. Two men were coming out of the main door of the theatre, clearly in the middle of an argument. One of them had a bunch of keys in his hand, and a rolled-up poster under his arm, and he unlocked the poster frame in the niche on the other side of the door to theirs, while the other man went on shouting at him.
‘We can’t do it, Daniel! We’ll all be arrested.’
‘And think what wonderful publicity that would be,’ the man with the poster pointed out. He was much younger than the other one, and extremely tall and thin. He was able to pin the poster into the top of the frame only by standing on tiptoe. He smoothed it out admiringly, and smiled, while his plump companion seethed next to him.
