There came more sounds, the noise of shuffling and then a match being lit. Zinnie saw a light bloom in the darkness, a tiny flower of yellow flame. What it illuminated was the outline of a small figure in a dark cloak. Zinnie gripped her knife and readied herself as the figure began to edge its way round the hole in the floor, coming in her direction. Zinnie couldn’t understand quite how whoever it was could manage to find their way, but nonetheless the figure kept coming, slowly but surely. She waited until it was within touching distance and then she stood up, striking her own match and lighting her candle.
“So,” she said, as the light flared around her. “I was right after all – not a spirit!”
The figure jumped in fright, knocking back the cloak’s hood to reveal a mop of dark hair above a pale round face with hooded eyes, a snub nose and a mouth open in a gasp of fear. Before Zinnie could move again, something flew at her, a snarling, screeching ball of fur that launched itself straight at her face. Zinnie cried out as sharp claws scratched her cheeks. She put her hands up to defend herself, still clutching the knife. There was a little animal cry of pain and the thing fell to the ground, whimpering.
“Ruby!” cried the figure in the cloak. It threw itself to the ground beside the bleeding creature.
Zinnie stared at the bundle of fur, at the ‘demon’ whose cries had so terrified Mary King’s Close.
“A monkey?”
The figure in the cloak was beside itself, picking up the little black-and-white creature and cradling it as it bled. The animal was whimpering, sounding for all the world as if it were crying, hiding its face in its owner’s cloak.
All at once, Zinnie’s fear was replaced by pity. She crouched down.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to hurt it. Let me see – maybe I can…” She reached out but the hooded figure cringed back. “I just want to help,” Zinnie promised. “Please let me.”
Reluctantly, the figure opened its arms a little, although the monkey just tried to burrow deeper into them. The fact that it was moving and its eyes were still open told Zinnie that it probably wasn’t in danger of bleeding to death, at least not straight away. She shuffled closer and traced the source of the blood to one of its spindly little arms. There was a narrow cut just below the creature’s left shoulder, but thankfully it wasn’t too deep.
“Well,” Zinnie said, relieved, “I think it looks worse than it is. It will heal if we wrap it up. Do you have anything that we could use? I don’t.”
The face that looked up at Zinnie was streaked with tears and she saw that it was a girl, probably about the same age as Sadie, although much smaller. There was something different about her, and for a moment Zinnie studied her face. Then the girl sniffed and wiped at her eyes with one hand.
“My cloak,” she said, in that low, rough voice. “Tear it.”
She didn’t let go of the monkey, so Zinnie nodded and grasped the edge of the wool garment. “I’ll try not to use too much.”
“Don’t matter,” the girl muttered, her attention back on her pet.
Zinnie used her knife to nick the fabric of the cloak and then tore off a narrow strip. She put the knife back in her pocket and reached for the monkey’s arm, but it screamed and squirmed deeper into the girl’s arms.
“Ruby,” the girl said in a whisper. “Be good. Be good.”
The little monkey stopped moving, blinking up at her mistress. The creature still flinched as Zinnie bandaged its hurt arm, though, keening as she tied a knot over the wound.
“Ruby?” Zinnie asked quietly. “That’s your monkey’s name?”
The girl nodded, sniffing.
“What about your name?” Zinnie asked. “I’m Zinnie. What are you called?”
The girl cringed away, her eyes darting from side to side as if looking for a way to escape.
“Don’t run,” Zinnie said, holding up her hands in a placating gesture. “I want to help you, I promise. And I think you probably need help. Or at least a friend?”
The girl’s eyes met Zinnie’s with a little frown. “Aelfine,” she said.
“Aelfine? That’s your name? It’s pretty.”
Aelfine looked down at the monkey again. “That’s what ma called me. Everyone else calls me –” her face crumpled – “the Human Monkey.”
“That’s horrible,” Zinnie said, wondering who on earth would call a person something so awful. She shifted on her haunches. Her legs were going to sleep and the damp cold of the abandoned room was seeping into her bones. “What do you like to be called?”
Aelfine looked up with another frown, as if this wasn’t something she’d ever had to think about before. It took her a moment to answer. “Aelfine.”
“OK then,” Zinnie said. “Aelfine it is. Why don’t you and Ruby come with me and you can tell me what you’re doing down here and why you’ve been scaring folks to death.”
Fear skittered across Aelfine’s face. “Don’t want to go back,” she said. “Can’t go back.”
“I’m not going to make you go anywhere,” Zinnie promised. “But it’s cold here and it’s not a good place to sleep. If you come back with me, you can stay with me and my sisters. It’s warmer than here.”
Aelfine blinked up at Zinnie. “Ruby can come too?”
Zinnie smiled. “Yes, Ruby can come too.”
Aelfine smiled back and the expression lit up her face as if the sun had suddenly risen in the middle of the darkest part of Mary King’s Close.
“Come on then,” Zinnie said. “Best hide Ruby under your cloak, though, eh?”
By the time they got back to the room, the fight had ended. Zinnie led the little cloaked figure towards their corner. Something – a vague memory – kept nudging at her mind, but when she tried to chase the thread it vanished. It was something Aelfine had said, something that was ringing a vague but insistent bell that wouldn’t be silenced.
Zinnie pushed back the drape to find Sadie, a worried look on her face.
“Zinnie!”
“Sadie,” Zinnie said, as the two sisters hugged. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you with Nell?”
“She fell asleep but I couldn’t. I wanted to see if you were all right. I’ll go back before morning—” Sadie broke off as she noticed Aelfine, partially hidden by her cloak, standing behind her sister. “Who’s this?” she asked, surprised.
Zinnie ushered Aelfine into the small space and pulled the drape firmly shut behind them.
“This,” Zinnie whispered, “is the ghost of Mary King’s Close.”
“Whatever do you mean?” Sadie asked in astonishment.
“Aelfine’s the one who’s been scaring all and sundry down there,” Zinnie said, still in a whisper.
“What?” Sadie said, still confused. “But why?”
“I don’t know yet,” Zinnie admitted. “But she obviously needs help.”
Aelfine hadn’t moved at all since she’d stepped through the curtain. She stood there, motionless and mute. Sadie looked at Zinnie with a perplexed expression. Zinnie made a face and shrugged.
“It’s all right, Aelfine,” Zinnie reassured her quietly. “You can take your cloak off now. Sadie will be your friend too. She’s my sister.”
Aelfine just pulled her cloak more firmly around herself and ducked her head. There came a slightly muffled chattering from beneath the heavy material. Sadie’s eyes widened and she stared at Zinnie.
“Ah yes,” Zinnie added. “There’s Ruby too.”
“Ruby?”
“Aelfine’s pet monkey.”
“A monkey?” Sadie exclaimed.
“Shh!” Zinnie said hurriedly, grabbing her arm and listening to see if anyone outside had taken notice of her sister’s shocked squeak. There was no sign that they had.
“How on earth has she got a monkey? Who is she?” Sadie whispered.
“I don’t know that yet, either,” Zinnie said. “But she’s – they are cold, hungry and scared, and they’re on their own. You remember what that’s like
, don’t you? We’ve both been there, haven’t we? So they need help. All right?”
Sadie hesitated for a moment, still looking unsure. But then, to Zinnie’s relief, she nodded.
“Come on, Aelfine,” Zinnie said. “Sit down. Sadie will light the fire and make you some hot milk. Won’t you?”
“Of course I will,” Sadie said, stirring herself and moving over so that there was room for all three of them to sit on the threadbare blankets.
Aelfine moved slowly, sinking to her knees, though she still didn’t take off her hood. Sadie lit the fire and Zinnie poured some of the milk into the tin mug and handed it to her. For a while they listened to the crackle of the fire and the faint burble of voices from outside. Then Sadie took the milk from the flames, put a hunk of bread into it and held it out to Aelfine.
“It’s hot,” she said. “Be careful.”
Aelfine pushed her hood back just enough to see what she was doing, revealing her pale face. Sadie looked at Zinnie with another frown.
“Thank you,” Aelfine whispered. “Can Ruby have some bread?”
Zinnie smiled and tore off another chunk of bread to pass to Aelfine. “Course she can. Here.”
Beside her, Sadie jumped as Ruby’s little black-andwhite head appeared from beneath the cloak. The monkey chattered as she grabbed the bread and began to stuff it into her mouth.
“Say thank you,” Aelfine whispered. Ruby stopped eating and chattered again as she looked between Zinnie and Sadie, seeming for all the world as if she were actually thanking them for her food.
“A monkey,” Sadie said faintly, as she gazed at the animal in wonderment. “Here, in Mary King’s Close! I never thought I’d see such a thing with my own eyes.”
Zinnie watched their two little guests eat, still trying to work out what was niggling at her. “Where did she come from, Aelfine?” she asked quietly. “Ruby, I mean.”
Aelfine froze and seemed suddenly furtive, her eyes darting from side to side as she avoided looking at Zinnie. “Far away,” she mumbled. “From another country.”
“I know that,” Zinnie pressed. “But how did you get her?”
For a second Zinnie thought the girl’s face was going to crumple into tears. Ruby sensed the change in her mistress immediately and dropped her piece of bread, wrapping her arms round Aelfine’s neck and chattering into her ear.
“I didn’t steal her,” Aelfine said, her voice fracturing. “Mine. Always been mine. Where I go, Ruby goes. Like … sisters.”
Sadie reached out and gave Aelfine’s arm a gentle squeeze. “Well, we know what that’s like, for sure,” she said with a smile, as she glanced at Zinnie. “Sisters are so important, aren’t they?”
Aelfine nodded, tears in her eyes.
“It’s all right,” Zinnie said, in a soothing voice. “I don’t think you stole her. I’m just trying to work out where you both came from, that’s all.”
Aelfine stared into her mug, Ruby still pressing against her cheek. Then, in a mumble that was barely there at all and as if it explained everything, “He calls me the Human Monkey.”
“I’ve heard that before,” Zinnie said, realizing what had been tickling her memory ever since the first time Aelfine had said it. “I heard it at Lady Sarah’s.” She snapped her fingers as the answer finally presented itself. “Phineas MacDuff! Conan Doyle said that one of his posters for the House of Wonders talked about a ‘human monkey’! Is that where you came from, Aelfine? Did you get lost? We can take you home if—”
Aelfine emitted a wail and burst into tears, dropping her now mostly empty mug on the dirt floor and curling up into a ball with her arms over her head. “No!” she cried.
“Aelfine!” Sadie exclaimed, putting one arm round the girl and squeezing gently. “It’s all right!”
Aelfine went on sobbing. “I’ll be good. I promise! Ruby and I will be good, we’ll be good…” As her words dissolved into sobs, the monkey wrapped her arms round her mistress, looking at Zinnie with obvious reproach.
Zinnie and Sadie stared at each other in alarm. “I’m not going to make you go anywhere,” Zinnie promised, over the sound of Aelfine’s distress, as Sadie rocked with her. “We just want to help you, in any way we can.”
Aelfine, though, would not be comforted. She cried and cried, opening her arms only so Ruby could crawl into them and hug her tightly. Sadie let her go, leaving her to Ruby. Aelfine sobbed until the exhaustion of it all crept up on her and she curled up with her knees to her chest, Ruby still in her arms. Zinnie and Sadie watched as the girl’s sobs slowly trailed off into a restless slumber.
When it was clear she was definitely asleep, Sadie pulled a blanket over the awkward figure. Then she looked at Zinnie, worry written all over her face.
“The House of Wonders?” Sadie asked in a whisper. “What’s that?”
“It’s that new place of amusements that’s opening on George Street. Don’t you remember? We saw it the other day.”
“Oh yes,” Sadie said. “But how can she be from there?”
Zinnie shrugged. “I don’t know. It was the talk at Lady Sarah’s. The owner was there – Phineas MacDuff.”
Sadie looked at Aelfine’s sleeping face with a slight frown. “There’s something … different about her, isn’t there? Her face … her voice … as if her tongue’s too big for her mouth. Is she sick?”
“I don’t think so,” Zinnie said. “She doesn’t seem sick.”
“If she is…” Sadie trailed off uncertainly.
“You could take her with you to Doctor Jex-Blake’s,” Zinnie suggested. “But I don’t think she is. I think it’s just how she is.”
Sadie nodded. “What do you think she means when she says she’s ‘the Human Monkey’?”
“I don’t know,” Zinnie said grimly. “But it doesn’t sound like anything good, does it?”
“You’re going to find out, aren’t you?” Sadie asked, turning to look at her.
“Of course I am.” Zinnie said.
The House of Wonders was situated in a tall building at the corner where Hanover Street crossed George Street. Early morning found Zinnie staring up at the large billboards that had been erected either side of the huge double doors. They were full of elaborately painted words picked out in black and red, with little pictures dotted here and there in-between. Zinnie couldn’t read most of what they said. The orphanage had tried to teach her, but she had never found it possible to turn letters into words that made sense. It was one of the reasons they had beat her, calling her lazy and stupid, locking her in a room with a slate and chalk for hours without food and water as if that would somehow make her learn her letters.
Zinnie tried the front doors, but as she expected they were locked. It was probably for the best – she wouldn’t have wanted to announce herself by walking in so obviously anyway. She went back down the short flight of steps and looked for a rear entrance instead. There was a narrow alley that led away between the House of Wonders and the building next door. Zinnie slipped down it, glancing behind her to check that no one was watching.
The alley sloped up a little and then joined another that was wide enough for a cart to pass through. It cut behind not just the rear of the House of Wonders but all the other buildings on the street. Here were the delivery entrances, so that the common tradespeople need not be seen hefting goods through the front doors. After all, it wouldn’t do to spoil the view for the gentry.
Zinnie slipped in amid the mass of folk carrying wares this way and that. Ahead, set in what must be the rear of MacDuff’s establishment, she could see another pair of double doors. These were far rougher than the grandly polished wooden ones that marked the entrance to the House of Wonders. Their red paint was faded and peeling and the flags on to which they opened were cracked. But there was a cart stopped beside them as a series of figures in work clothes hurried to and fro, carrying wooden crates of varying sizes into the house.
Zinnie pulled her cap down more firmly on her head and went closer, ap
proaching the cart with quick confidence, as if she were part of the work crew. She kept her cap low as she reached up towards the cart so that the man standing on it could pass her something to carry. A moment later, she found herself in possession of a heavy crate made of rough wood that would have splintered into her palms had the skin of her hands not already been roughened by her life on the streets.
She gritted her teeth and turned towards the doors as she struggled not to drop the heavy box.
“Oi!” said a voice from the cart.
Zinnie paused, heart beating hard. Had he spotted that she wasn’t supposed to be there? She kept her head down as she turned slightly, ready to drop the crate and make a run for it if she had to.
“I’d be careful with that if I were you, boy,” the man said. “He makes us pay double the worth for breakages and it’ll be coming straight out o’ your wages if you drop whatever fancy tat’s inside. All right?”
Zinnie nodded and turned away, heart thumping. She moved as fast as she could, joining the stream of workmen carrying their own loads.
By the time she got inside, Zinnie’s muscles were burning with the effort of holding the crate. The place was even busier within, crowded with workmen of all sorts hurrying here and there. The sound of banging and hammering filtered down a narrow flight of stairs, while on the lower level, where Zinnie was, shouted directions and the noise of crates being ripped open emanated from large, echoing rooms.
“Get a move on, will yer?” said an irate voice behind her.
Zinnie stumbled forwards and just managed to set down the crate before she dropped it completely. Around her were piles of similar boxes, some far larger and some much smaller than the one she’d carried. They were stacked everywhere. In one corner a man in a finer suit of clothes than any other in the room was busy prising off the tops, issuing orders about what to do with the contents to a younger, nervous-looking man who kept nodding and jotting things down on a sheaf of paper.
Zinnie looked around but everyone was too intent on their own tasks to take any notice of her. She slipped out of the room as if she were heading back to the laden cart, but instead she made for the stairs that curved out of sight as they led to the upper floors. She ran up them, stomach clenching as she listened for a shout that would tell her she’d been seen, but no such call came. Everyone was too busy to notice her.
The House of Hidden Wonders Page 7
