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The Sunnyport Shadow: Chapter 1

The rain lashed down on the window of the Friendship Tea Rooms as Sir John and Marie stared out.

“Perhaps it will brighten up this afternoon,” he said morosely. “How long until we can return to the bed and breakfast?”

Marie looked at the clock on the wall, with the numbers 4 and 6 missing.

“About seven hours I think,” she said.

Sir John took the last sip of lukewarm tea in the cup in front of him, and put the cup down on its chipped saucer. Almost immediately the waitress appeared.

“Can I get you anything else,” she asked blankly.

“I think we’re alright for a moment,” said Sir John.

The waitress immediately glanced at a sign saying “no loitering”. Marie looked around the room, empty save for a dishevelled looking man in a gaudy outfit nursing a cup of tea. The waitress peered out at the rain.

“You’ve been unlucky with the weather,” she said. Sir John sighed.

“Two more teas, please,” he said and the waitress went away.

bandstand storm 2.jpg“Two Teas”

“We can’t stay here seven hours,” said Sir John. “We’ll be bankrupt by teatime.”

The other man in the cafe turned his tea cup upside down and spun it round. Sir John looked on curiously.

“Is he alright do you think?” he said. The man turned his cup back up and peered at his saucer. He look surprised then glanced toward Marie and Sir John. Sir John looked down quickly as the man walked over.

“Please excuse me,” said the man, “but I do believe we have a common interest. My name is Lord Hollingbury, and, if my Aunt Mabel’s parlour trick isn’t mistaken, at least one of you is, shall we say, in possession of special talents.”

Sir John looked confused at the apparent gap between the man’s appearance and manner.

“I beg your pardon,” he said.

“Well, if you need me to pardon you, you must have done something very wicked,” said Lord Hollingbury sitting down.

“Two teas,” announced the waitress as she returned. She looked distastefully at the development of social intercourse in the tea rooms and beat a hurried retreat in case it was catching.

“Let me get down to brass tacks,” said Lord Hollingbury. “I am, shall we say, gifted myself in certain areas. One might call me a magician, if you like, but I prefer the term Nouveaumancer. You are … well one of you … and I think I know who, is most certainly gifted.”

“The tea leaves tell you this?” said Marie.

“Indeed, I was carrying out a little old-fashioned divination,” said the Nouveaumancer. “I think even magic has a certain … terroir, n’est-ce pas?”

“Now look here,” said Sir John, “I don’t know who you are…”

“Yes, you do,” said the Nouveaumancer, “I told you. The reverse is true, I don’t know who you are.”

Sir John’s mouth opened and closed.

“I am Marie Jennings, and this is my ‘usband Sir John Jennings,” said Marie. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Enchanted,” said the Nouveaumancer, “and enlightened. You’re the investigators of the paranormal, aren’t you? I read about you in the papers. I had no idea that you were … poachers turned gamekeepers.”

“Now look here!” said Sir John.

“We’ve done that part and moved on a little,” said the Nouveaumancer. “Do try and keep up. So I presume you’re here to investigate the disappearances.”

Sir John looked confused and aghast.

“You can’t say things like that to a chap’s face,” said Sir John.

“Well which part of a chap should I address these remarks to?” said the Nouveaumancer.

“Please, both of you,” said Marie, “Lord Hollingbury … what disappearances?”

“Oh, I see,” said the Nouveaumancer, “so you ‘don’t know about the disappearances’ and I’m guessing you’re ‘just here on holiday’.”

“Yes, exactly,” said Sir John.

“Oh, well that’s a shame,” said the Nouveaumancer, “I was rather hoping to pool resources. Oh well, if you change your mind, you can probably find me at the Cock and Bull. It really is the only place in town to get half decent scotch.”

The Nouveaumancer stood up and left the tea rooms. As he walked through the rain it seemed to somehow fall around him.

“Has he gone?” said the waitress who had appeared mysteriously.

“I believe so,” said Sir John.

“Well you can have his bill then,” she said, passing the couple a small piece of paper.

The Sunnyport Shadow: Chapter 2

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Welcome to Sunnyport!

Tatty Seaside Town“Tatty Seaside Town”

So readers have been asking in their droves: where is Sunnyport? Those photographs seem familiar…

A cursory glance at a map of Southern England will reveal no such place. It is of course a fictional location, but as all such places, one rooted in some real experiences. We thought it might be informative and enlightening to list some of the ideas that run behind the town.

Inaptronymic placenames: it is the author’s general experience that the pleasantness of English seaside town-names is indirectly proportional to how agreeable the towns really are. Thus “Claphole-by-Sea” would be perfectly nice, but “Haven Bay” would be a crime-ridden rat-infested nightmare. Incidentally, the same applies to hotels and public houses. Any public house called The Friendship will have an undercurrent of violence, and any hotel called the Bella Vista will face a gasworks.

Sunnydale: which holds a special place in our hearts even twenty years on.

Innsmouth: “you’ll never leave” – a local town for local people.

Seaside holidays in the nineteen seventies: for many reasons the author does not wish to relate his experience of holidaying in B&Bs of various kinds, nor expand on the manner of hospitality extended in such places. To our readers who visited the English seaside in decades past, I am sure the reasons are clear.  To those who missed such an experience, the first chapter of Bill Bryson’s “Notes from a Small island” should serve as an introduction.

And one thing that is not an influence on the fictional town of Sunnyport…

London-by-Sea: The self confessed “tatty seaside town” of Brighton (and Hove) will quite often be the “location shots” for Sunnyport. As a previous resident of this wonderful and unique town I can wholeheartedly state that Sunnyport is not Brighton. Brighton is much, much weirder.

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The Sunnyport Shadow: Prologue

bandstand sun 2“Diverse Diversions”

Dear Mr Sir Jenkins

We are delighted to accept your booking at the Shalimar Bed and Breakfast in Sunnyport. We are looking forward to seeing you in May at our most salubrious establishment, which we feel certain will be ideally suited to a gentleman of your refined tastes.

You neglect to mention in your booking request if you have visited Sunnyport before. I have taken the liberty of assuming that this is your first visit to our seaside paradise. Forgive me, then, for any redundancy and permit me the time to avail you of some of the town’s attractions. For in truth, I delight in such a task.

Sunnyport is one of the premier resorts on the south coast of England. It benefits from an unusually sheltered aspect leading to a microclimate which, I truly believe, can be described as mediterranean. The town itself expanded around one hundred years ago when the healing powers of the unique sea air were discovered to have been responsible for the extended lifespan of its inhabitants, then mostly fisherfolk. As you can imagine, people flocked from far and wide to breath the healing air. That gifted the town its first wave of tourists, and such seekers of the healthy airs still regularly make the pilgrimage to our town.

But there is more to Sunnyport than fine air! Indeed, the town and its surrounds are of such an unnatural beauty that many a soul has been moved to tears on first arrival. You may recall that the poet Samuel Porlock wrote his famous “Ode to a Roman Ruin” here and the composer Edward Engerland wrote “Oh Stormy, Stormy Sea” in the Cock and Bull public house.

Sunnyport truly has it all. Indeed, any coastal resort would swell with civic pride if only it had our advantages. But the town fathers of Sunnyport are not the kind of men to rest on their laurels. No sir, for they have of late fashioned a most wondrous promenade replete with bandstands, teahouses, and diverse diversions to entertain our guests.

So whether you are exploring Sunnyport’s heritage in the old harbour, marvelling at its lighthouse, promenading with your good lady on the front, taking the sea air, or simply basking in the sunshine I guarantee you will find your stay in Sunnyport an experience you will remember all your life.

In order to secure the reservation we require settlement of the account plus a deposit equal to one half the value of the account, a local tourist tax fee equal to one quarter and finally a linen and cleaning charge equal to one quarter. You may check in to the establishment any time between the hours of two and four in the afternoon and checkout is by nine am strictly. Guests are requested to vacate the premises between the hours of nine thirty and five in the afternoon to permit cleaning. Guests must wear formal dress in the communal areas at all time and noise is strictly prohibited between the hours of ten at night and eight in the morning. Failure to comply with any of these rules may lead to ejection from the premises and loss of fees.

Yours most cordially

Mr Francis Pimplenick

Proprietor and owner Shalimar Deluxe Bed and Breakfast

The Sunnyport Shadow: Chapter 1

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The Cornish Curse: Epilogue

Sir John and Marie sat in the front room of their home in London with Phlebotomous Bosch. Marie was crocheting, Phlebotomous was tinkering with some mechanical device and Sir John was reading The Times when Miss Henderson came in. The room was quiet apart from the rhythmic snoring of Morag, lying by the fire.

“The afternoon post has arrived,” Miss Henderson announced and handed Sir John a letter. He took it and opened it.

“Ah, it’s from the Mallums!” he said. “They send their greetings to everyone, including you Miss Henderson, and thank us again for our help.”

“That’s generous of them,” said Miss Henderson.

“Well, we only uncovered their, er, problem,” said Sir John. “They go on to especially thank Morag for giving them the details of the tincture which reduces the symptoms of their daughters’ condition. Apparently they are now able to function normally during a full moon without, well, transforming.”

Morag lifter her head up from where she had been dozing by the fire.

“Ach, it’s nothing,” she said, “just a case of balancing the silver out with some extra gold.”

“Yes,” said Sir John, ”they mention how pleased they are that their farm labourers have returned to work for them as the gold is quite expensive. Apparently, the girls all asked to be remembered to Phlebotomous and reiterated their sorrow and embarrassment at the final night.”

Phlebotomous looked a little awkward.

“It was quite a scare,” said the vampire. “It’s made me think about possible future romantic attachments. I think it wise if I keep to the bachelor life. However attractive I may be to these girls, I think it’s for the best all round.”

Miss Henderson unfortunately had a small coughing fit at that point, which she covered with a handkerchief. Marie stared quite determinedly at her crochet as her shoulders gave a small shake.

“Sounds very sensible Mr Bosch,” said Sir John. “They also say that they fear news of the incident may have spread. Apparently Marsh left their employment shortly afterwards and started working for Lord du Bois. Now, Lord du Bois is rarely seen in their house. Mr Mallum is somewhat distressed by this and fears the worst.”

“I imagine Mr Marsh is more comfortable under Lord du Bois,” said Miss Henderson. Sir John looked at her quizzically.

“He seemed more like a man’s man,” she said, by way of explanation.

“Yes,” said Sir John,” I believe you are right. Anyway, they conclude by saying all is well and we are welcome to visit any time.”

Sir John folded the letter and put it down.

“Another satisfied customer,” he said. “Miss Henderson, perhaps we could have some tea and biscuits.”

“Yes, Sir Jennings,” she said and left.

“Oh. They have informed us that the payment will take a little time to arrange,” said Sir John sounding glum.

“Well, we have plenty of money after the alchemist, ne c’est pas?” said Marie.

“Indeed,” said Sir John, still looking at the letter and sounding glum.

“What is it?” said Marie.

“In lieu of the first payment they have sent us this drawing by Prudence,” said Sir John. “It’s of Mr Bosch.”

Marie and Phlebotomous looked at the drawing. They both frowned in unison

“I think it’s what you call the … modern style,” said Sir John.

CC Epilogue“Modern Style”

*With apologies to Pablo Picasso…

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The Cornish Curse: Chapter 14

Marie and the adult Mallums were sitting in the parlour when Sir John came in. Marie looked up at him, concerned.

“How was Lord du Bois, mon cher?” she asked.

“I think I rather startled him at first, but after a brief conversation he recovered his composure,” said Sir John. Mr Mallum looked a little concerned.

“I trust you didn’t put him in an ill humour,” he said.

“Not at all,” said Sir John, “when I left he was distinctly gay.”

“So,” said Marie, ”there was nothing of concern?”

“Nothing at all,” said Sir John. “Where are Mr Bosch and the girls on this moonlit evening?”

“Mr Bosch is taking his walk and the girls have retired to bed early. I think they are tired from the ball,” said Mr Mallum.

“What’s that noise?” said Mrs Mallum. “It’s sounds like a kettle.”

They all listened as a high pitched sound got louder and louder. Finally there was the crash of the front door opening, and then the parlour door as Phlebotomous came in screeching.

CC Ch 14“Your Girls!”

“Wolves! They’re wolves!” he said, and presently four giant wolves came in after him. Instantly, everyone jumped on the furniture. The four wolves started circling around the chair Phlebotomous was standing on.

“Oh, my girls! We must warn them!” said Mr Mallum. “The beasts are in the house!”

“Mr Mallum, these are your girls,” said Phlebotomous.

“What!” he said.

“They’re werewolves,” said Phlebotomous. One of the quartet nudged the chair and it wobbled, provoking a strangulated noise from Phlebotomous.

“I really hate heights,” he said. Suddenly, Mrs Mallum burst into tears.

“This is all my fault!” she said.

“What?” said Mr Mallum.

“It skips a generation or two, my mother was … I hoped our daughters would be spared,” she said.

“You knew?” said Mr Mallum.

“I didn’t dare admit it, even to myself,” said Mrs Mallum.

“What are we going to do,” wailed Mr Mallum.

“Look, a coach has drawn up,” said Marie.

“Who is it?” said Mr Mallum, “I can’t see from this chaise-longue.”

“Someone tall, I think, with a dog,” said Marie.

“Lord du Bois!” said Mr Mallum. “He has come to save us!”

The figures approached the house and could be heard coming in the front door. A large dog came into the room. Instantly the dog barked and growled at the four werewolves. The four turned to face her and the largest wolf started to growl back, before the dog barked ferociously. At this, all four wolves lay down and made whimpering noises. The Jennings and the Mallums got down from the furniture. Phlebotomous stayed on the chair.

“Honestly!” said the dog. “What kind of a numpty halfwit goes looking for a magical dog and leaves the one they have sitting at home?”

Instead of Lord du Bois, a young lady came into the room.

“Have you managed to successfully intoxicate them?” she said to the dog.

“Morag! Miss Henderson!” said Sir John. “We are most delighted to receive your presence here this evening.”

“Aye, I imagine ye are!” said Morag.

The Cornish Curse: Epilogue

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The Cornish Curse: Chapter 13

Phlebotomous walked into the garden and looked at the spot where the wolfsbane had been. He saw that it all been picked. He was wondering if there was enough to prevent du Bois turning into a werewolf, when Patience arrived.

CC Ch 13“Ow-oooh!”

“Hello Mr Bosch,” she said. “How are you this night?”

“Very well, er, Patience,” he said. “Isn’t a little late for you to be out?”

“Oh I’m a big girl,” said Patience. “Besides, it was you who wanted to meet by moonlight. Very romantic, B.”

“Excuse me?” said Phlebotomous.

“Excuse me, too,” said Joy, coming to join them. “What are you doing here, Patience? Are you trying to ruin my rendezvous like you ruin everything else?”

“Me!” said Patience. “What are you doing here? I was invited. I had a note.”

“Well I had one too!” said Joy.

“Really? Then show me,” said Patience. Joy’s face fell, further than usual.

“I … I can’t,” she said, “I lost the note.”

Patience looked triumphant when Prudence arrived.

“Why don’t you show us your note, Patience?” she said. “Or don’t you have it either.”

“Prudence, you too?” said Joy.

“The note was mine first, you stole it, I’m sure. It was on the seat when you all left,” said Prudence.

“Ladies,” said Phlebotomous, “I’m sure there’s been some simple mix up.”

“I don’t have it either!” shouted Patience. “It was stolen from me.”

“Do you mean this note?” said Constance, joining the quartet and brandishing a piece of paper.

“You stole it!” said Patience.

“I didn’t steal it, it was given to me,” said Constance.

“You stole it from me,” said Joy to Patience.

“No, you did from me,” said Prudence.

There was a quiet moment where the girls all glared at each other.

“Ladies…” started Phlebotomous.

“It’s obvious Mr Bosch would prefer me because I’m the most sophisticated,” said Patience. Constance made a snorting noise.

“If staring out of the window is sophistication then you may be right, but I think sophistication comes from knowledge, and that comes from reading,” she said.

“But what you read is immoral fantasy,” said Joy. “At least I read something about the ethics of proper conduct, as befitting to Mr Bosch.”

“Mr Bosch is a sensitive soul who needs an artistic companion,” said Prudence. “Besides you are all ugly hags.”

The other sisters gasped at Prudence.

“Ladies, please …” started Phlebotomous.

“Please, Mr Bosch, let me defend you from these slurs on your character,” said Constance.

“Slurs! I’ll show you slurs,” growled Joy.

“Are you threatening me?” snarled Constance.

“You are both, tedious bookworms,” barked Patience.

“Shut up!” snapped Prudence.

“Ow-oooh!” said Patience. Phlebotomous looked at her. Her nose had started to extend and hair was growing over her face. She fell to her hands and knees and her arms shortened and thickened. A long tail came from her back. Her mutation complete, she stood nearly to Phlebotomous’ chest. Her breathing was low and heavy.

“Girls!” said Phlebotomous to the other three. “I think you sister’s a werewolf.”

He heard no reply, so he turned to look at them. Three more wolves looked back at him. At his feet he saw the patch where the wolfsbane had been, now removed.

“Who’s a good girl?” he said hesitantly to the quartet of werewolves.

The Cornish Curse: Chapter 14

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The Cornish Curse: Chapter 12

Lord du Bois was dressed in fine clothes and with a rose in his top button. He was just leaving the front door of Bennet House when Sir John arrived. The evening was deepening into night and the full moon was just showing

CC Ch 12“I Know”

“Good evening Sir John,” said du Bois.

“Good evening Vulpine,” said Sir John, “are you going out?”

“Yes … I rather fancied an evening constitutional,” said du Bois.

“Without Arthur?” said Sir John.

“Ah … yes … he is a little overtired. At the ball, he was rather popular with the children and has needed to rest. If you’ll excuse me,” said du Bois.

“Perhaps I could accompany you,” said Sir John.

“Ah … perhaps it would be best if you didn’t,” said du Bois. “The ground is rather muddy  and I’d hate you to spoil your clothes.”

“But you seem dressed rather well for such a walk?” said Sir John.

“Is everything all right?” said du Bois. “Your manner seems a little off, have I offended you? Is this because of that flower your wife had?”

“In a manner of speaking,” said Sir John. “Lord du Bois, Vulpine … I know.”

Lord du Bois’ face fell. “How, when?” he said quietly, his usual enthusiasm gone.

“At the ball, I wondered before, but the ball confirmed it.” said Sir John.

“I knew it,” said du Bois, “I went too far, it was too obvious. Talking to Marsh as I did.”

“Yes that was a large clue, letting on like that,” said Sir John.

“Will you tell anyone?” said du Bois.

“Something must be done Vulpine,” said Sir John. “For the sake of the Mallums’ reputation.”

“Oh Lord, do they know!” said du Bois.

“No,” said Sir John, “I haven’t told them.”

“But, surely you can find it in your heart to turn a blind eye. No one is being hurt,” said du Bois.

“But Lord du Bois, it’s … it’s immoral,” said Sir John.

Lord du Bois turned away to look at the moor. A tear ran down his face in the moonlight.

“So people say, but how can it be. It’s natural, it’s what I am, who I am,” said Lord du Bois.

Sir John sighed.

“You seem a decent man, I’d hoped to reason with you, to get you to stop,” said Sir John.

“I don’t want to stop … I … don’t think I should. It feels right, not wrong,” said du Bois.

“But, my god, to tear apart that livestock in that way,” said Sir John. “That can’t be natural.”

“I … what?” said du Bois.

“The savagery on the animals and the impact on the Mallums. It isn’t without consequence,” said Sir John.

“What are you talking about?” said du Bois.

“Lycanthropy,” said Sir John. “You’re a werewolf.”

“I’m a what?” said du Bois. “I thought you were here because I’m a … a confirmed bachelor.”

“A confirmed bachelor?” said Sir John.

“You know … the love that dare not speak its name. But I can speak my love’s name. It’s Marsh, the Mallums’ butler. I passed him a note that night, and I’m going to see him now. We’ve been lovers nearly since I got here.”

“Oh,” said Sir John.

“That’s … not what you meant?” said du Bois.

“No, I thought you were the beast. I think it’s a werewolf,” said Sir John.

“Why … what … why would you think that?” said du Bois.

“I, never mind,” said Sir John. “Back to square one again!”

There was a silence.

“You won’t, say anything,” said du Bois. “I have money, I can…”

“No,” said Sir John. “I don’t want any money and don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thank you,” said du Bois. “They’d throw me in jail.”

“It’s nothing,” said Sir John. “Please, go to your lover. Have your time together.”

The Cornish Curse: Chapter 13

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The Cornish Curse: Chapter 11

“What a marvellous evening and what a marvellous host,” said Mr Mallum at the breakfast table with all the family and guests. “I had the time of my life. How did everyone else fare?”

“It was very pleasant indeed,” said Marie.

“When is it full moon?” said Patience.

“Why do ask?” said Mrs Mallum.

“No reason,” said Patience.

“Tonight,” said Constance, “I think.”

“Then I had better…” started Sir John. “I shall call on Lord du Bois to thank him for the ball.”

“Oh, what a wonderful idea!” said Mr Mallum. “I shall accompany you.”

“No!” said Sir John and Marie together.

“It will be better I go alone,” said Sir John. “Because … I have some matters to discuss.”

“I see,” said Mr Mallum uncertainly. “If you think that’s best.”

CC Ch 11“Special Place?”

“Mr Bosch, shall the maid prepare your bedtime milk drink?” said Mrs Mallum.

“That would be very nice,” said Phlebotomous,” I may take it up to my room, I’m a little overtired from the dancing.”

“Yes, it was nice of the girls to all dance with you during that waltz,” said Mr Mallum. “They practically ran across the room! Clara Monkfish was rather surprised, actually. I think she’ll recover, it was only a small fall from when Patience ran into her.”

“You room,” said Prudence, “would you say that was a special place?”

Her sisters all glared at her.

“It’s … a pleasant room,” said Phlebotomous warily.

“But not … special?” said Prudence.

“I’m sure Mr Bosch’s room is perfectly adequate,” said Mrs Mallum.

“Mrs Jennings, you may care to go for a walk this afternoon,” said Phlebotomous. “Before Sir Jennings goes out.”

“Oh!” said Marie. “Yes, thats a very good idea.”

“To the special place,” said Phlebotomous to Marie, and the four sisters all watched him attentively.

“Yes, I understand,” said Marie.

“Where the flowers are, in fact,” said Phlebotomous, “where I walked last night.”

“Yes,” said Marie, “it is perfectly clear.”

“So that…” continued Phlebotomous.

“Yes,” said Sir John, “we understand.”

“Well, I shall be off to sleep then,” said Phlebotomous.

“So Mr Bosch,” said Constance, “the special place is on your evening walk?”

“Yes,” said Phlebotomous. “Oh, wasn’t that clear, I can explain again.”

“No,” said Constance, “I understand.”

The maid brought Phlebotomous a cup of warm milk with a spice infusion, and he left the room.

“Mr Mallum, is this silverware real silver?” asked Sir John.

“Yes, Sir Jennings,” said Mr Mallum. “Unlike Lord du Bois we must make do with the basics. But it is of the highest quality for the material.”

“Could I borrow this knife?” said Sir John.

“Of course,” said Mr Mallum. “Er … any particular reason?”

“Not really,” said Sir John.

“Well I must say, everyone is being very cryptic this morning,” said Mr Mallum. “No doubt there is some jolly jape I’m not aware of. Maybe … did somebody have a special conversation with Lord du Bois?”

Mr Mallum looked meaningfully at his daughters who all groaned quietly.

The Cornish Curse: Chapter 12

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The Cornish Curse: Chapter 10

“Well, Sir John, how goes the investigation,” said Lord du Bois to Sir John as the ball whirled around them. “Any new leads?’

“Not as such,” said Sir John. “We’ve heard a number of hair-raisings stories, more than a few of which were a little tall. But nothing that forms a pattern, nothing to help us find the creature.”

“Oh well,” said du Bois. “If the worst that happens is you meet a few souls and dance a few reels, the night won’t be a complete loss. Have some food as well, I had this all specially made.”

Lord du Bois indicated the spread of food next to them, which was equally matched in its generosity and quality.

“Thank you, Lord du Bois,” started Sir John.

“Vulpine, please!” said du Bois. “Ah, here comes your lovely wife. Bonsoir madame.”

“Bonsoir, Lord du Bois,” said Marie. “This is a most pleasant evening.”

“As I hoped,” said du Bois. “And I … is that aconite?”

“Maybe,” said Marie. “It was picked locally.”

“Good God, you must take it off at once!” said du Bois. Marie looked shocked.

“What is the matter?” she said. Lord du Bois quickly grabbed a napkin and took the flower and put it in his pocket.

“I am sorry for the drama,” said du Bois, “but it’s highly poisonous. If you’re eating any food a petal could fall on your plate and …”

“I … am sorry,” said Marie.

“Please, no harm done,” said du Bois. “You can now, safely, enjoy the food. Please excuse me for a moment.”

wolfsbane“Vulpine, Please”

“What happened?’ said Phlebotomous who just arrived as du Bois left. “I saw him grab at you from the other side of the room. Is that a sort of dance?”

“No,” said Marie. “He removed my flower. He said it’s poisonous.”

“Oh,” said Phlebotomous, “yes, to humans it is. I forgot.”

“Well, I must say were running out of luck here,” said Sir John. “The flower is gone. The silverware is made of gold, and I haven’t seen a drop of vinegar.”

“No, apparently Lord du Bois doesn’t like vinegar,” said Phlebotomous. “I overheard him telling the Mallum’s butler.”

“Strange thing to … wait, he doesn’t like vinegar?” said Sir John.

“Yes, that’s what I just said,” said Phlebotomous,

“But why deny your guests?” said Sir John. “I don’t like mustard, but I would still serve it.”

“Unless you didn’t want it around you at all,” said Marie.

“Didn’t want what around you?” said du Bois, reappearing. The trio all looked at him guiltily.

“I brought you this, Mrs Jennings,” said du Bois, holding out a rose. “I felt guilty for wrenching your flower from you earlier, so fetched a replacement from the garden.”

“Thank you,” said Marie, “We we’re remarking on your silverware.”

Lord du Bois chuckled.

“The goldware you mean,” he said. “Actually, it’s only goldplated, but I much prefer the colour to silver. I imagine it looks a little ostentatious. The locals regard it with a kind of awe.”

“It’s … different,” said Marie, “but each to his own.”

“Oh!” said du Bois, “On that we can certainly agree! But, please, permit me license to abandon you again.”

Lord du Bois left and the Jennings and Phlebotomous stood there.

“Are you wondering what I’m wondering?” said Sir John.

“Whether this is a waltz or not?” said Phlebotomous.

“No,” said Sir John. “We came here looking for someone who hates wolfsbane, vinegar, and silver. I think we may have found him.”

He glanced at Lord du Bois standing on the other side of the room.

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The Cornish Curse: Chapter 9

Music was playing, people were talking, so the air was filled with merry sounds. On a large chair sat Phlebotomous Bosch with the four Mallum sisters around him. The sisters were glaring at each other, even Prudence and Constance. Phlebotomous sat staring ahead of him, oblivious to the girls’ attentions.

“Mr Bosch, have you considered dancing at all?” asked Patience.

“Is this a waltz?” asked Phlebotomous.

“No, Mr Bosch, it is a circle dance, a country dance,” said Patience.

“I can only dance a waltz,” said Phlebotomous. “And I don’t have much experience of that.”

Joy looked smugly at her sisters who glared back at her.

“Was that why you were dancing the waltz with Mrs Jennings yesterday?” said Constance. Her other sisters looked shocked at her.

“Yes,” said Phlebotomous. “That was the total of my experience.”

“Mrs Jennings has rather a strange flower pinned to her gown,” said Constance. “It’s not very becoming.”

“It’s an aconite,” said Phlebotomous. “I picked it for her.”

The girls all looked shocked at this, and a small tear formed in Prudence’s eye.

“I’d better go and speak to Sir John and Mrs Jennings,” said Phlebotomous and got up to leave.

note 6“A Waltz?”

Three of the girls rose and followed, but Prudence stayed behind. After they had gone she stretched out onto the chair and wiped the corner of her eye with a handkerchief. It slipped from her fingers and as she knelt down to pick it up she saw a scrap of paper. She looked at it, puzzled, then her eyes lit up.

“What are you doing?” said Patience, who was returning with a glass of wine.

“Nothing,” said Prudence who quickly folded the paper and hid it in her sleeve. “I had better get some wine, too.”

Prudence left with a skip in her stride and didn’t notice the piece of paper fall out of her sleeve as she left. Patience was staring at her sister leave and then noticed a bit of paper on the chair. She read it and her eyes widened. She hastily tucked it into her sash and smiled behind the wine. Joy came and sat next to her and looked at her sister disapprovingly. A gentleman invited Patience to dance, which she accepted with a flourish, causing the paper to slip, unnoticed, onto the seat.

Joy watched sourly as her sister walked to the dancefloor. She spotted the scrap of paper on the chair with puzzlement. She picked it up and read it, and a slow smile spread across her face. She dropped the paper on the tray of food she had and reclined happily with a religious book, as a servant came and took the tray away.

The servant noticed the paper as he was taking the tray and saw Constance walking back to the seat where the sisters had been sitting.

“Miss, I believe this is yours,” he said to Constance and passed her the paper.

Constance took it and read the paper.

“Dearest M, Meet me at the full moon at the special place. B.”

She beamed with happiness and put the paper in her purse.

The Cornish Curse: Chapter 10