Goth Girl and the Ghost of a Mouse Read online

  26

  She gave a little curtsy and said, ‘Good evening, I hope you’re having a comfortable stay. My name is Ada – very pleased to meet you.’ ‘The pleasure is all mine,’ said the figure, taking off its bicorn hat, ‘Allow me to introduce myself. I am the Monster of Mecklenburg, but my friends call me The Polar Explorer.’ ‘Water, water everywhere,’ squawked the albatross, ‘nor any drop to drink!’ ‘I don’t think I’ve ever met a monster before,’ said Ada, thinking about sitting down on a block of ice but deciding against it. ‘I’m not at all surprised,’ said the Polar Explorer. ‘We’re quite rare, you know. There’s me, and my ex-girlfriend and . . . well, that’s it really. You see, I was stitched together by a brilliant young

  27

  student at the University of Mecklenburg as part of his mad science project . . .’ Ada suspected he hadn’t talked to anyone for quite some time. ‘Water, water everywhere, nor any drop to drink!’ squawked the albatross again. The Polar Explorer ignored it. ‘He made me from bits left on the battlefield of Baden-Baden-Württemberg-Baden. I have the legs of a trumpet major, the arms of a grenadier, the body of a brigadier and the head of a pioneer sergeant first class.’ The Polar Explorer smoothed down his lank, lifeless hair and put his bicorn hat back on his head. ‘Marinated for a month in a tub of glue I was, and then brought to life by a lightning storm.’ He smiled, revealing seaweed-green teeth.

  28

  ‘Unfortunately, things didn’t get off to a good start,’ he continued, shaking his head. ‘A butcher’s dog ran off with my left foot and the student was absolutely furious. He was a bit of a perfectionist. Said he couldn’t possibly hand me in to his professor like that and stormed off to class. He was ashamed of me, you see . . .’ The Polar Explorer looked suddenly sad and his yellow eyes filled with tears. ‘When his professor asked, the student said that a dog ate his homework.’ ‘You poor thing,’ said Ada, sympathetically. ‘I learned my lesson though,’ said the Polar Explorer, patting a wooden trunk. ‘Now I always carry a spare.’ He looked down at the ground.

  29

  ‘Well, after that things went from bad to worse until finally I just had to get away from it all.’ The Polar Explorer wiped his eyes and smiled at Ada. ‘So I borrowed a ship and went to the North Pole. Lovely place – beautiful scenery. But not very many people to talk to—’ ‘Icebergs, icebergs everywhere, nor any drop to drink!’ squawked the albatross. ‘So how do you know my father, Lord Goth?’ asked Ada, trying to stifle a yawn. The Polar Explorer was fascinating, but it was so late it was beginning to be early. ‘Oh, I don’t know Lord Goth personally,’ admitted the Polar Explorer, ‘But I do know Mary Shellfish, the distinguished lady novelist – a very good listener, just like you, Miss Goth.’ ‘Please, call me Ada,’ said Ada. ‘Well, Ada,’ said the Polar Explorer, as he patted the albatross perched on his shoulder, ‘Coleridge here found this copy of the Literary Review on a deserted sailing ship last month.’

  30

  THE LITERARY REVIEW

  OR THE ARTISTIC, CULTURAL, BIOGRAPHICAL AND HISTORICAL JOURNAL

  NUMB. LXXXII

  AUGUST 1799

  MARY SHELLFISH Distinguished lady novelist to attend LORD GOTH’S GRAND COUNTRY-HOUSE PARTY AND THERE, TO WIT, WITH OTHER EMINENT GUESTS TO TAKE PART IN THE METAPHORICAL BICYCLE RACE AN EVENT OVER HALF A MILE NAVIGATED ON THE SADDLES OF VARIOUS HOBBY HORSES AND AMFAN EVENT OVER HALF A MILE NAVIGATED ON THE SADDLES OF VARIOUS HOBBY HORSES AND THE INDOOR HUNT

  CONDUCTED THROUGH THE DELAPIDATED QUARTERS OF THE BROKEN WING OF GHASTLY-GORM HALL AND NAVIGATED ON THE SELF-SAME HOBBY HORSES. AN EVENT WITNESSED BY THE GOOD FOLK OF THE NEIGHBOURING VILLAGE OF GORMLESS IN THE COUNtY OF GHASTLYSHIRE, ENGLAND, AND CELEBRATED THROUGHOUT THE LAND.

  ALSO IN THIS ISSUE RADICAL CARTOONIST MARTIN PUZZLEWIT’S LATEST series OF SATIRICAL PRINTS ON THE LIFE AND TIMES OF THE LANDSCAPE ARCHITECT metaphorical smith, ENTITLED A GARDEN RAKE’S PROGRESS

  PRINTED FOR TRISTRAM SHANDYGENTLEMAN AT THE DOLPHIN IN LITTLE BRITAIN, AND SOLD BY DR JENSEN IN WARWICK LANE; WHERE ADVERTISMENTS ARE TAKEN IN, AS ALSO BY FABERCROMBIE AND ITCH, RADICAL WEST LONDON WEAVERS OF PUTNEY

  The Polar Explorer reached into his sailcloth cloak and pulled out a tattered journal. He pointed to the cover with a black-nailed finger. ‘It says here that Mary Shellfish will be one of the guests at your father’s grand house party and will be taking part in the Metaphorical bicycle race followed by the annual indoor hunt . . .’ The Polar Explorer gave a green-toothed smile, ‘and I thought I’d surprise her.’ Ada frowned. She didn’t look forward to Lord Goth’s grand house parties. Each year, lords, ladies, poets, painters and deranged cartoonists arrived and turned Ghastly-Gorm Hall upside down. Mrs Beat’em got into an awful state preparing the banquet and Ada was expected to be heard and not seen more than ever. The bicycle race could be quite fun, but Ada never liked the indoor hunt, which involved the guests chasing small creatures through the broken wing with butterfly nets. Even though they released them outside afterwards,

  32

  Ada thought it was cruel. Unfortunately the indoor hunt was very popular, and each year the villagers of the little hamlet of Gormless marched up the drive holding flaming torches and gathered outside to watch it through the windows. Just then the gong sounded in the kitchens of the west wing. It was four o’clock and the kitchen maids were getting up. ‘I’ve got to go,’ said Ada. The Polar Explorer nodded and put a black-nailed finger to his black lips. ‘Not a word,’ he whispered with a wink.

  Chapter Three y the time Ada had run all the way round the west wing, in through the Byzantine windows, across the central hall, up the grand staircase, along the corridor and into her enormous bedroom she was exhausted. Climbing into her eight-poster bed, she drew the curtains, flopped back on to her giant pillow and fell into a deep sleep. When she was awoken by the sound of the great-uncle clock chiming on her mantelpiece, Ada was startled to realize it was eleven o’clock already. She jumped out of bed and rushed over to her dressing room. Pushing open the door, she stepped inside. There, on the Dalmatian divan, were her Wednesday clothes – Scotch bonnet, Highland shawl and black tartan frock. Ada’s clothes were

  35

  chosen for her each day and evening by her lady’s maid, Marylebone, who was so shy that Ada had never actually seen her. Marylebone had been Ada’s mother’s maid and before that she had been her mother’s assistant, in charge of making all her tightrope-walking costumes. That was just about all Ada knew about Marylebone, because she spent all her time hiding in the enormous closet in Ada’s dressing room. But sometimes, if Ada didn’t put on her clothes straight away, she’d hear a low growl coming from the depths of the closet. Ada quickly got dressed and pulled on her big, clumpy boots before setting off for the short gallery, where each morning Mrs Beat’em’s kitchen maids laid out breakfast on the sideboard. She had got to the top of the grand staircase and was just contemplating whether or not to slide down the banister when she felt a hand on her shoulder. ‘Why, if it isn’t the young mistress herself,’ said a thin, wheedling voice. ‘Thought I heard

  36

  you clumping down the corridor.’ Ada turned to see the tall, thin figure of Maltravers, the indoor gamekeeper, peering down at her. He had pale grey eyes, long white hair and smoke-coloured clothes that seemed to match his skin. Ada didn’t like to admit it, but she was a little bit afraid of him. Wherever Maltravers went, he carried a big bunch of keys, attached to his waistcoat by a long chain. They jingled when he walked and Ada could usually hear him coming,

  that is, as she wasn’t wearing her big, clumpy boots, which tended to drown out other sounds. Maltravers smelled of wet carpets and mildew and had been the indoor gamekeeper at Ghastly-Gorm Hall for as long as anyone could remember. His job was to stop crows from roosting in the ornamental chimneys, hornets from building nests in the attics, ornamental Chinese deer from chewing the tapestries and blue-tailed newts from laying eggs in the bathtubs. He used nets, fumigating powders and traps of all s
hapes and sizes. And when he wasn’t busy netting, poisoning and trapping things, Maltravers spent his time in the broken wing, preparing animals for the annual indoor hunt. One year it was sooty pigeons from Rochdale, another it was long-eared rabbits from the Isle of Wight, while for three years in a row it had been miniature drawing-room pheasants that Maltravers had hatched specially.

  38

  Once they were caught in big long-handled butterfly nets, the creatures were released into the grounds, where they often thrived. The three ornamental deer* from eight years ago had done so well that there were now at least a hundred in the dear-deer park. Ada always thought Maltravers, who had a mean, unpleasant look on his face most of the time, seemed disappointed when the creatures were freed, and more than once she’d seen him looking at Lord Goth’s blunderbuss longingly. Ada shuddered. ‘I saw someone creeping about in the broken wing last night,’ said Maltravers, his pale grey eyes narrowing to slits. He gave a mirthless little laugh. ‘Though I’m sure it couldn’t have been the young mistress, could it?’ Ada could feel herself blushing and bit her lip. ‘Because she wouldn’t disappoint her father by

  *Ornamental deer are extremely expensive, having to be smuggled out of China in the pockets of explorers and diplomats all the way from the Emperor’s Palace in the Absolutely-Forbidden-I-Won’t-Tell-You-Again City.

  39

  not wearing those fine clumpy boots he gave her, now would she?’ ‘Of course not,’ said Ada, backing away. ‘But just so you know,’ he continued, his pale grey eyes now wide and unblinking, ‘the broken wing is out of bounds until the annual hunt on Saturday night.’ Ada watched as Maltravers strode down the grand staircase, his keys jangling. He crossed the great hall to the small door behind the tapestry before disappearing through it. ‘Out of bounds?’ said Ada defiantly. ‘We’ll see about that.’ She clumped down the stairs and across the great hall, then through several smaller halls, each containing assorted marble sculptures of classical gods and goddesses, until she came to the short gallery. Breakfast was waiting on the Jacobean sideboard*. There was jugged hare, potted vole,

  *The Jacobean sideboard is one of the ugliest pieces of furniture in the entire Hall, but due to its huge size and weight, and the fact that it is nailed to the floor, nobody is able to move it.

  40

  pigeon cooked eight ways and jellied moorhen, all on large silver platters beneath gleaming silver lids. Ada ignored them and helped herself to a soft-boiled egg and four pieces of hot buttered toast that had been cut into silhouettes of Prussian grenadiers. She sat down at the table and was dipping a grenadier into her egg when the yellow wallpaper opposite rippled like the surface of a pond. Ada dropped her toast in surprise. A boy stepped away from the wall. He was the exact same colour and pattern of the wallpaper he has been standing against. If he hadn’t moved, Ada

  41

  ‘How do you do?’ said Ada politely, ‘I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Lord Goth’s daughter, Ada.’ The boy sat down at the table and changed colour to match the chair he was sitting on. ‘I’m William Cabbage. My father, Dr Cabbage, is building a calculating machine for Lord Goth in the Chinese drawing room,’ the boy explained. ‘I hope I didn’t startle you. I have a way of blending in with my surroundings. It’s called chameleon syndrome.’ Charles Cabbage was an inventor whom Lord Goth had invited to stay at Ghastly-Gorm Hall six months ago but then had forgotten about. ‘I didn’t realize Dr Cabbage had a son,’ said Ada. ‘And a daughter,’ said a voice from behind her. Ada turned round and saw a girl about her own age emerging from behind the sideboard.

  43

  The girl had a wooden box strapped to her back, with a folding chair and a jar containing paint-brushes attached to it. Under one arm she carried a large portfolio, and on her feet she wore big, soft shoes. ‘I’m William’s sister, Emily,’ she said. ‘William! Please stop showing off and put some clothes on!’ Emily told her brother. William giggled, then got up from the table and crossed to the window, where he stepped behind the curtains. ‘I didn’t hear you come in,’ said Ada, standing up. ‘That’s because I’m wearing outdoor slippers,’ said Emily Cabbage. ‘Father said we shouldn’t bother you so we’ve been trying to stay out of your way. William has been blending in and I’ve been in the back garden painting in watercolours.’ She frowned. ‘Please don’t tell him we bothered you.

  44

  mean to. We thought you must have had breakfast ages ago, so we came in to have soft-boiled eggs and soldiers. Then we heard you clumping down the hallway in those big boots of yours . . .’ Ada smiled. ‘I had rather a late night,’ she said, and stepped forward and took Emily’s hand, ‘and you’re not bothering me in the slightest.’ She looked down at her clumpy boots, then back at Emily. ‘I only wear these because my father says I must. He believes children should be heard and not seen.’ William stepped out from behind the curtains. He was wearing a suit of blue corduroy with yellow socks and brown boots. Above his white collar, his face matched the curtains. Ada led Emily over to the sideboard and took two soft-boiled eggs and a plateful of hot buttered grenadiers and handed them to Emily.

  ‘I’d be delighted if you and your brother would join me for breakfast. Boiled egg and soldiers are my favourites.’ ‘Ours too,’ said Emily. They all sat down at the table together. William dripped egg yolk down the front of his jacket, but Emily’s manners were extremely dainty. Ada was impressed. When they had finished, Emily opened her portfolio and showed Ada her watercolours of plants and flowers she’d discovered in the Back of Beyond Garden (unfinished). Ada thought they were very good. William held up a watercolour of a purple briar rose and turned the exact same colour. Ada laughed. ‘I’ve told you once – stop showing off, William,’ said Emily sternly. She smiled at Ada. ‘You must forgive my little brother, Miss Goth. He sometimes takes his talent for blending in a little too far.’

  46

  ‘Please, call me Ada,’ said Ada warmly. ‘It’s so nice to talk to someone of my own age for a change. It can get quite lonely sometimes. The kitchen maids are too frightened of Mrs Beat’em to talk to me and the only other person I see is Maltravers the indoor gamekeeper and I’m a bit afraid of him. I don’t like to bother my father because he seems so busy, though I do see him once a week in the long gallery for tea . . .’ Ada was aware she was talking rather a lot. But she liked Emily. She was talented and well-mannered and liked soft-boiled eggs with soldiers. She wanted to tell William and Emily about Ishmael, and about the Polar Explorer hiding away in the old icehouse, but wasn’t sure she should. Ada didn’t want to frighten them. After all, Ishmael was a ghost and the Polar Explorer was a monster. Perhaps it would be wiser to wait until she was better acquainted with the Cabbage children. ‘We don’t find Ghastly-Gorm Hall lonely in

  48

  the least,’ said William, turning stripy to match the teacup he was holding. ‘We’ve made some very good friends in the Attic Club and they’re all about our age.’ ‘Ssshhh! William!’ said Emily crossly, ‘The Attic Club’s meant to be a secret!’ ‘I’m good at keeping secrets,’ said Ada, intrigued. ‘What is the Attic Club? If I promise not to say a word, can I join it?’ ‘Well,’ said Emily, blushing pink behind her freckles, ‘the Attic Club isn’t meant for the likes of you, Miss Goth (I mean, Ada). It’s a club for young servants and children of people who work for your father.’ She looked down at the tips of her outdoor slippers. ‘After all, you’re the daughter of a lord. You have a fancy governess who came all the way from France

  49

  to teach you and one day you’ll be Lady Goth . . .’ ‘Miss Delacroix caught a chill and had to leave,’ said Ada, reaching out and patting Emily’s hand. ‘But she did have some very interesting ideas about knitting and cutting the heads off dolls, which I’d love to share with you and your friends in the Attic Club, if you’ll let me.’ ‘And you promise not to tell a soul about us?’ said Emily, looking up. ‘I promise,’ said Ada.

  50

  Chapter Four fter their late breakf
ast, William went to the Chinese drawing room to help his father. At least, that’s what he told Ada. Emily said the real reason was that he wanted to practise blending in with the Chinese dragon wallpaper. ‘It keeps him happy for hours,’ she said, rolling her eyes. ‘Would you like to come painting with me?’ she asked Ada. ‘The Attic Club doesn’t meet till after dark, so we’ve got plenty of time.’ ‘I’d love to,’ said Ada. She clumped back extra noisily to her bedroom so Lord Goth was bound to hear her, before taking off her boots and slipping on her black pumps. Then she took her sketching tablet and crayon box and tiptoed downstairs to meet Emily on the Venetian terrace.