The Antics of Evangeline: Collection 1: Mystery and Mayhem in steampunk Melbourne

by Madeleine D'Este

  "Are you hurt, Father?" Evangeline rushed to her father's side, smoothing his sleeve.

  "What are they hiding?" he grumbled, dusting himself off. "Hmmm. That did not unfold quite as I expected."

  "I saw..."

  "Miss Caldicott?" said a voice.

  Evangeline frowned, glancing up to find a familiar set of bushy black eyebrows.

  "Mister Middlehall. What a surprise." Evangeline blushed an unfashionable shade of red, wondering if Albion Middlehall witnessed her father's little melee. At least, this time she wasn't covered in mud. Unlike the time she accosted the thieving footmen at the Easter Ball or when wrestling the Bunyip on the banks of the Yarra. "Are you taking a dirigible? Summering in Europe perhaps?"

  "Only boring old business, I'm afraid. No travel plans."

  Albion gestured to his three companions. Their faces and suits solemn and monied.

  "With the Egmere Brothers?"

  "I believe so." One of his colleagues grimaced and Albion nodded like a puppy. "I'd love to stay to continue our conversation, but I really must dash, Miss Caldicott. Chancing upon you was a lovely surprise. May I call on you in the coming weeks, perchance?"

  "Of course," she said as Albion pressed his lips to her gloved hand. Evangeline scrutinised Albion as he walked away. Another clue. The Middlehalls, the richest family in Melbourne, in business dealings with the Egmere Brothers. This could only mean one thing, money and lots of it. But what was the scheme?

  She turned back to the Professor. "While you were... erm... conversing with those men, I saw a pink puddle outside the locked shed. And it wasn't rouge this time. We should come back later and investigate," Evangeline said. "After dark."

  "A midnight raid. Capital idea." The Professor stroked his chin. "I knew you'd make a valuable assistant."

  Evangeline patted her hair. Her experience with nocturnal adventures would come in very handy. Again. She wondered which one of her inventions would be most useful.

  "We'll regroup and return under the cover of darkness. Expose the dirty little secrets of the Egmere Brothers. That'll teach them to disrespect Professor Montague Caldicott."

  "And his daughter," said Evangeline.

  "Indeed. But first, luncheon."

  Chapter 8

  "What a pair you are!" Augie guffawed as the Professor relayed the morning's adventures at the dirigible depots.

  "Like father, like daughter." Edmund snorted into his soup. "Show us your weapon, Evangeline."

  "It was not all in vain." The Professor frowned. "We have one lead."

  "The French?" Edmund chuckled.

  "No. No. Silly idea. What would the French want with Melbourne? Terribly far from Paris and not a stinky cheese for ten thousand miles." He shook his head. "We suspect the Egmere Brothers are experimenting with new ships. Probably something prohibited. This explains all the secrecy. And Evangeline found a clue. A pink clue."

  "Hae you considered other possibilities, sir?" said Miss Plockton as she cleared the soup tureen from the table. "Aside from the French. Other invaders, perhaps?"

  "What other invaders could there be?" The Professor crumpled his brow. "The Austrians? Why would we ever be at war with them?"

  "Further away," Miss Plockton said, blushing to the roots of her salt and pepper curls. "Hae you considered other invaders from the skies?"

  "Of course..." Edmund nodded, rubbing his chin. "Killer birds."

  The Professor tilted his head, squinting. "Angels?"

  "Do you mean from the stars?" Evangeline offered.

  "Yes," Miss Plockton said, a nervous wobble in her voice. "We arenae alone."

  "Star men?" Augie burst out laughing.

  Evangeline stifled a smirk. But she knew first hand the world was filled with phenomenon not easily explained. Her own experience, a tingle of power through her fingers, was as elusive and unreliable as the Melbourne weather.

  "Have you been reading those novels again? I warned you. They're filled with gobbledegook." The Professor sighed.

  "They are written by scientists like yourself," Miss Plockton said, her face deadly serious. "And based on scientific theory. Do you deny the possibility of other life in the universe, sir?"

  "The lights did move in a rather odd way." Edmund nodded.

  "Don't encourage her, Edmund," the Professor said, frowning. He sighed. "Whilst it is mathematically probable there is other life in the universe, the chances of anything coming from the stars are a million to one, I'd say. Especially here to Melbourne."

  "But Monty, it moved diagonally. What airship can move like that?"

  "Exactly, sir. Imagine the advanced technology. If they could travel all that way through the darkness. What else are they capable of?" Miss Plockton's eyes gleamed.

  "Miss Plockton. That is plainly ridiculous. I am surprised a God-fearing woman as yourself would entertain such fancies. What would your pastor think?"

  "Reverend Inverpepper lent me the books in the first place. He is a great believer," she said, her hands pressed together. "Star men are still God's creations."

  The Professor shook his head.

  Miss Plockton continued. "The men from the stars would be very sophisticated. They could easily conquer us. I am surprised the Governor isnae more concerned." Miss Plockton narrowed her eyes. "Perhaps he has more information. Information he isnae telling us."

  "You make an interesting point, Miss Plockton." Edmund nodded slowly.

  "Edmund!" the Professor exclaimed.

  "Cripes. What if the Governor is one of them?" Edmund slapped a hand against his cheek. "It could explain a lot."

  Evangeline tittered but the fun was interrupted by the chime of the mantelpiece clock. She wished she could stay longer to hear more of Miss Plockton's star men theories, but she had an appointment in the laneway.

  Through the back door and into the laneway, Evangeline gingerly tip-toed over piles of rubbish and night soil, firmly clasping her nose. Even in this genteel area, people tipped their potato peelings, tea leaves and chamber pots into the cobbled lane.

  Mei was nowhere to be seen. Evangeline stood by the red brick wall, juggling her weight from foot to foot, hands at the ready, glancing in all directions. Mei could creep up from behind and strike a sneaky blow at any moment. Evangeline grinned. It had been ages since Mei and Evangeline sparred. As the events of this morning showed, her fighting skills may be required at any moment. She couldn't risk getting soft and complacent.

  "Girl from the park. Bunyip catcher," said a familiar voice.

  It was the tall Aboriginal elder she'd met in Yarra Park. His walnut coloured skin, toga-like robe and gnarled stick, out of place against the red bricked walls of the cobblestoned laneway.

  "You saw him, didn't you?" The elder approached her.

  "Yes," Evangeline said in a small voice, recalling her struggles for breath as the Bunyip dunked her head under the water, again and again.

  "Bush is very quiet now. But he be back." He nodded.

  "Not too soon. I hope." Evangeline gulped.

  "You see the Min-Min last night?" The elder pointed to the sky with his nobbled stick.

  "Min-Min?" Mei appeared, resplendent in a coral day dress, trimmed with white braiding.

  "There you are. Usually I'm the tardy one," Evangeline said. "A new dress?"

  Mei shrugged her shoulders, even her hair was in a neat chignon rather than the usual snake-like plait.

  "Min-Min. Them lights in the sky. Over the east."

  "You mean the airships," Evangeline said to the elder, then turned to Mei, eyes gleaming. "Did you see them last night? You'll never believe what happened this morning, Father and I went to Flemington..."

  "Not airships. Min-Min." The elder chuckled.

  "What is Min-Min? Some type of bird?" Mei raised an eyebrow.

  "Killer birds?" Evangeline shivered.

  "Them spirits."

  "Ghosts?" Mei frowned.

  Evangeline gulped again. This time, her heart palpitated recalling th
e séance in Mrs. Picklescott-Smythe's parlour. The truth behind the visiting spirit still unknown.

  "Are they malevolent?" she asked, eyes wide.

  He shook his head slowly. "The Min-Min are the spirits of my dead people. Children."

  Evangeline nodded, lips pursed, but Mei broke into a wide smile and gaily waved down the lane.

  A young gentleman came running along the cobblestones, dressed in a morning jacket and bowler hat. "You! Old man! Get out of here," he shouted, waving his arms. "Away from the ladies, you pest."

  "Excuse me, sir." Evangeline glared at the gentleman, hands on hips. "There is no need to be so rude. My friend and I are quite capable of handling ourselves."

  The elder turned, cackling, and shuffled away down the laneway.

  "What do the Min-Min want?" Evangeline called after the elder as he disappeared. "Please stay."

  "Good riddance." The young gentleman shook his fist and turned to Mei, taking her hand to his lips with a deep bow. "Are you alright, Miss Fang? He didn't try to hurt you, did he?"

  Mei shook her head and blushed a beetroot red.

  "They're trouble. All of them," he said. "They belong out in the bush. Not wandering among civilised people."

  Evangeline grimaced.

  "Miss Evangeline Caldicott. May I introduce Mister Nathaniel Applecross?" Mei said, giggling girlishly. Nathaniel gave Evangeline's hand a cursory shake. "His father owns Applecross Brothers Grocers on King Street."

  "Pleased to meet you, sir," Evangeline said in an overly polite manner. "I know your father's establishment. My father's personal secretary raves about the quality of your salted cod. She says it's the best she's tasted outside of Inverness."

  Nathaniel barely looked up, brushing invisible dust from his lapel.

  "But while your cod is good, it appears you are lacking in manners."

  "Evangeline." Mei hissed.

  "How dare you? I was protecting you from a menace. You should be more grateful, Miss Carmichael."

  "Caldicott," Evangeline said, with narrowed eyes.

  With a haughty half-shrug, Nathaniel turned to Mei. "Shall we go, Miss Fang? My auto-chariot is parked on Spring Street. I don't want to leave it on the street too long."

  "Sorry, Evangeline, I have to go," Mei said, shrugging.

  "Oh. I thought we were having the afternoon together. I have simply loads to tell you, and you promised to teach me some long-fist moves. I was hoping..."

  "Tomorrow?" Mei said, beaming over at Nathaniel as he tapped his foot. "Can you cover for me? My mother wouldn't approve."

  "Never mind your mother, I'm not sure I approve." Evangeline tutted.

  Mei crossed her arms and clenched her jaw.

  "Is this the reason why you didn't come to St. Kilda yesterday?"

  "Mister Applecross and me don't get much time together."

  "You missed a lovely day out." Evangeline kicked at the ground with the toe of her boot. "There was ice-cream."

  "Miss Fang and I had a perfectly pleasant day in Williamstown instead," Nathaniel said, loudly exhaling. "Let's go, Miss Fang."

  Evangeline tugged Mei aside by the elbow and whispered in her ear. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

  "He's very handsome." Mei nodded. "And he's got an auto-chariot. One of the brand-new models. It's ever so fast."

  "You can't be seen alone with a young gentleman! Unchaperoned. What will people say?"

  "When did you get so uppity?" Mei pulled her arm from Evangeline's grasp.

  "I thought we had an appointment. I was so looking forward to... Cook's baking scones." Evangeline's shoulders slumped.

  "I'll make it up to you. I promise. We'll spar soon. Can I count on you?"

  "Yes." Evangeline sighed, head bowed.

  Mei beamed.

  "Miss Fang? Are you coming?" Nathaniel started off down the laneway.

  "I'll tap you tonight. I owe you," Mei said as she skipped off down the cobblestones after him. "Comin', Mister Applecross."

  Evangeline was left all alone in the laneway. It appeared the mysterious lights would be another mystery she would have to solve without her best friend.

  Chapter 9

  Her afternoon plans dashed, Evangeline sat in the sitting room, distractedly leafing through a book on combustion engines. Her mind wandered, thinking of Mei's welfare, when a letter tumbled out from the pages and onto her lap.

  Evangeline opened the letter, written on thin cheap paper, her heart stopping as she recognised the clumsy handwriting. It was the hand of her stepfather, Charlie Drigg.

  This was the letter that started it all.

  "Dear Sir. You do not know me, but I know about you. I know the sordid secrets of your past..."

  Evangeline's eyes widened, a slight tremor in her hands.

  "...your torrid affair with a maid which lead to the birth of a child out of wedlock. A young girl by the name of Miriam."

  Evangeline clutched at her throat.

  "Such a child would bring shame on any gentleman like yourself. Any well-respected man would not want his shameful past known to the rest of the world."

  Her heart ached for the Professor. What a terrible way to learn he had a daughter.

  "But I am a man who knows how to keep secrets. For the right price..."

  Evangeline's shoulders tightened. The lengths her stepfather would go for an easy purse.

  "For five hundred pounds, I can promise you I will never tell another living soul about the real father of Miriam...."

  Evangeline vividly remembered the next part of the story.

  ***

  Seven months earlier

  Evangeline, or Miriam as she was known then, lived with her stepfather in an abandoned squat house. Living alongside twenty or more ne'er-do-wells, where the walls shook with singing, shouting and barneys. Her days devoted to tumbling, thieving and trying to avoid Charlie’s boot.

  But one night as Evangeline hurried along the dirty canals, sneaking away from the out-cold Charlie, a finely dressed man called out to her from the shadows. The posh man had a strange tale, claiming he was her uncle and Charlie Drigg was not her real father. At the time, Evangeline snorted and walked away, thinking he was one of those gentlemen Charlie warned her about, those who fancied young girls.

  She quickly forgot the queer man and his story. Life returned to normal, doing as she was told and trying to keep Charlie happy. Life was slightly easier this way. But every night, Evangeline said her own version of a prayer. She wished Death would visit during the night and take Charlie away. But Evangeline had never been lucky and every morning when she woke he was still there.

  "Get me another, you useless cow!" Charlie bellowed. She ducked her head. Luckily, his throw was wide and the empty bottle smashed against the wall. "Now!"

  Grabbing a handful of coins off the table, she scampered out the door, down the narrow alley past the painted ladies towards The Rusty Sparrow.

  Her body tensed and her hand on her blade, she approached the front door of the ramshackle pub. The door flung open and three large and hairy men tumbled out, punching and kicking one another. Evangeline jumping aside just in time.

  "Miss Miriam?"

  She turned, her hand gripping her knife handle. It was only the posh man again. Edmund, wasn't it? She exhaled and stepped over the wrestling men in the puddles, opening the pub door.

  "Wait."

  "What do you want? I'm busy," she said with hands on hips.

  "You didn't let me explain."

  "My father is waiting for me," Evangeline said, one foot inside The Rusty Sparrow.

  "He's not your real father. But you know that," Edmund said with shining eyes.

  "Leave me alone. I need to go." She waved him away.

  "Here." Edmund thrust a piece of paper into her hand. The paper was folded over, dog-eared and well-worn.

  "What is this?" She held the letter between two fingers.

  "You can read?"

  "Of course," Evangeline snapped. She opened the
letter.

  "This is the proof, I'm telling you the truth. My brother is your real father."

  Evangeline shook her head. This man was barking mad, but she opened the page and started to read.

  The letter was dated seventeen years ago. Her breath caught in her chest as soon as she recognised the childish handwriting.

  "My dear Monty.

  I have to go away. I am sorry I could not say goodbye to your face. But it would be too sad. You are a good man and I will always remember our time together. It is better I say goodbye now. I hope you have the good life you deserve.

  Love always Peggy."

  Evangeline grabbed at the door, her knees turning to jelly. Unexpected tears pouring down her face.

  This letter was from her mother.

  "Where did you get this?" She frowned.

  "From my brother. Montague. Monty." Edmund nodded and handed over a white handkerchief.

  "How?" Evangeline dabbed her nose.

  "Your mother was a maid at my brother's university digs. They became close."

  "I know nothing about this. She never said..." Her voice trailing off as she rubbed her forehead. "Why did she leave him?"

  "This was the last contact Monty had from your mother. But now after all these years, he finally knows the reason why she left."

  "Charlie Drigg is not my real father?" Evangeline said, running her hands over her ears and down her neck.

  "Montague Caldicott is your father. He lives in Melbourne. In the Colonies. He has sent me to find you and take you to him. Start a new life with him in Melbourne."

  Her head spinning, she carefully folded the paper and handed it back to Edmund.

  "You're telling the truth..." she whispered.

  "Come with me now," he said, eyes wide.

  "He'll find me. He always does. You don't know what he's like." She shook her head, her hands touching her ribs. Four times she'd run away from him, but each time Charlie found her and each time, her punishment harder. Her ribs still ached on cold nights following her last failed attempt.