The Lunatic's Curse (12 page)

Of all the players in Rudy’s show, Mr Ephcott was the most educated. Knowledgeable and well-spoken, he had an ardent fan-base of wealthy ladies. He could talk to them on exactly their
level. In fact he could talk several levels above them but his real charm, apart from his deliciously hairy chest, was to make them appear clever. The ladies’ husbands were not quite so
enamoured of him. It seemed a little odd to them that their wives would pay money to address a bare-chested fellow, but of course, as the ladies insisted loudly, ‘He is not a fellow, he is a
horse!’ And that seemed to settle the matter.

‘Friends,’ said Mr Ephcott grimly, ‘we are here to make a decision. Are we staying with Rudy, to watch the show fall apart and to see what little money we take drunk away? Or are
we to cut loose and make our own way in life? There are other travelling shows out there we could join. We’re professionals, after all. It’s Rudy has let us down. What do you say?’

‘Very well,’ said another man in the centre of the caravan (he had two heads). ‘Both Bob and I agree that Mr Ephcott here is right.’ This pronouncement was a great
surprise to the listeners: each head had a completely different personality and rarely agreed on any matter. ‘We say the time has come to act. Let’s go to Rudy, demand what we’re
owed and leave.’

Hildred smiled wryly and looked around the wagon. Here were all her friends, the people who had looked after her for as long as she could remember. Barbata had always been very kind to her, even
when she had pulled her beard. And then there was Matilda, the lady who could bite her own elbow (right now she was sitting quite happily on her hands) – she had treated her as her own. And
across from her sat Billy and Rosalyn Dunnet (pronounced ‘Doonay’: they claimed French ancestry), watching with pride their quadruplets – Lucy, Rebecca, Aina and Tobias –
practising outside in the twilight for the next show. Billed as ‘The Most Daring Quartet of Quirt Wielders and Whip Crackers’ (a quirt, of course, being a whip with a leather thong at
one end), what those four could do with whips and quirts would make your eyes water!

Hildred knew she would miss them all, but none more so than Mr Ephcott. This gentle and charming man had taken her under his wing when her father absconded after her mother’s fatal
accident. He had taught her, with great patience, not only to read and to write but also a thousand other things that he said would one day be useful when she had to go out into the real world.

And now that time had come. Rudy had been given chance after chance but this was the end of the line. The proposal was put to the vote and in Rudy’s absence it was unanimously decided that
the travelling show was to disband.

‘I suppose we won’t be going to Opum Oppidulum now,’ said Hildred ruefully as she and Mr Ephcott watched the downcast group disperse to their wagons.

‘Don’t worry, Hildred,’ he said gently. ‘You will survive. You are talented and smart. You can leave without any guilt at all. Why not come with me to Urbs Umida? I
believe it’s the sort of place that would greatly enjoy acts such as yours and mine. This is not the end for you, but the beginning.’

Hildred smiled wryly. ‘I know, but I cannot help feeling sorry for Rudy. In his own way he has been good to me all these years.’

Mr Ephcott looked her straight in the eye. ‘Hildred, you owe Rudy nothing,’ he said solemnly. ‘You have worked for years in the show, and paid your way.’

Hildred frowned. This life, with the travelling Panopticon, was all she had ever known and the motley players were the closest thing to a family she possessed. But there were other matters to
consider. She took a deep breath.

‘I don’t want to perform any more. After all, you have furnished me with an excellent education, better I dare say than any schoolroom, and I would like to put it to good use.
Perhaps I could be a governess or a tutor in a house that does not move from place to place. And I do not wish to be stared at any longer. I think I will go on to Opum Oppidulum after
all.’

Mr Ephcott paled. ‘You wish to tutor in Opum Oppidulum? Hildred, are you sure that’s the only reason? Better let sleeping dogs lie, don’t you think?’

Hildred shook her head. ‘I want to go. It’s important to me – to find out about my real family.’ She looked at Mr Ephcott’s downcast face and gasped. ‘Oh,
I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean it to sound like that.’

‘I know,’ said Mr Ephcott. ‘I – we – have all done our best, but it’s not the same.’ He laughed lightly. ‘And I also know that once you have made
up your mind you will not be swayed. It’s not a bad place, Opum Oppidulum, certainly better than Urbs Umida. I believe Lake Beluarum is a sight to behold. The deepest, coldest lake known to
man. It is not so far, but winter is approaching. You will need strength and stamina.’

‘I have plenty of that,’ said Hildred.

‘Well, if you will go,’ he chided, ‘at least let me give you something to help you on your way.’ He handed her a small purse heavy with coins.

‘I can’t take that!’ protested Hildred.

Mr Ephcott was also difficult to dissuade from his purpose. ‘You must, for my peace of mind,’ he insisted. ‘I feel partly responsible for your decision. You are very special to
me, Hildred,’ he said softly, ‘and I know it’s not always as easy for you as it is for others, but you have overcome much adversity. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened
to you for lack of something as simple as money.’

So Hildred took the purse and thanked him and gave him a long hug. He was smiling but Hildred could feel that he was shaking.

‘I will never forget you,’ she said with a small sob.

‘Hildred, my dear,’ he said kindly. ‘I know you will do well wherever you go. How could you not, for I have taught you everything you know!’

18

Dr Tibor Velhildegildus relaxed in the luxurious surroundings of his top-floor room in the best lodging house in Opum Oppidulum, all compliments of the town’s grateful
councillors. He was enjoying his celebrity status as the pioneer of the Lodestone Procedure.

It was about a week since his meeting with the malodorous and dentally challenged Hooper Hopcroft, and he fanned himself with the letter in his hand as if to wave away any lingering smell. The
letter was just one of many that had been delivered to his room since his arrival some days ago, but this one was slightly different.

My dear Dr Velhildegildus,

I hope you will forgive my being so forward in writing to you in this way. I am sure that many others have already imposed upon your time since your arrival
in our good town, but I beseech you to spare a few moments to read what I have to say.

My name is Acantha Grammaticus (recently widowed) and I am a resident here in Opum Oppidulum. I have a stepson, Rex, and it is he who
concerns me. I have heard (who has not!) that you are a noteworthy Doctor of the Mind, and that your Lodestone Procedure is hailed as miraculous. I believe that my stepson might benefit from your
attention.

Since the death of his father, Rex has been acting most peculiarly. He refuses to speak to me, is secretive and shuts himself away in his
room. He is destructive – in a fit of childish rage he destroyed many of his father’s models – and I know that he blames me for many things that are not my fault – the death
of his father, for example – but I cannot make him see this. The situation has become unbearable. I wish to send him away to school in the near future: he is at an age when he needs the
discipline of such an institution, but my concern is that once away from the house and the care he receives within its walls (for which he shows no gratitude), he might deteriorate further.

It is possible that you already know that Rex’s father, Ambrose Grammaticus, spent the last few months of his life locked up in
Droprock Asylum, the very same asylum over which you are to assume control. Naturally, I worry that young Rex is to go the same way, madness, as you are aware, being inherited in many cases. I am
grateful that I, not being a blood relative, am wholly immune from any familial anomalies or mental feebleness.

Recently, without my knowledge and wholly against my wishes, Rex’s father visited with him very shortly before his death. I am
certain that he said something to turn Rex against me. As you can imagine, as a loving stepmother it is heartbreaking to be shunned by the boy whom I consider in so many ways my own flesh and
blood. But my only concern is for him. I could bear the pain he inflicts, and indeed forgive him for it, if I knew that there was a cure for his ills.

My question is this: do you suppose that your Lodestone Procedure might be a treatment suited to dear young Rex? I understand that under
its influence patients reveal their deepest troubles, thus bringing about peace of mind. Perhaps you could persuade Rex to reveal exactly what it was his father said to him before he died. At least
then I would be able to rebut any unjust accusations and demonstrate that I am not the monster he made me out to be (for I am certain his father said terrible things about me – he was
completely insane in the end) and then Rex could go off to school untroubled by mental stresses.

Dr Velhildegildus, I throw myself upon your mercy. Help me in my hour of need!

With my warmest wishes,

Acantha Grammaticus (Mrs)

Postscript: I will pay, naturally, for your services.

Tibor looked thoughtful. Under normal circumstances he would decline to help; he had many such begging letters but this one was different. Firstly (lastly, to be precise) the
lady had offered to pay (this was highly unusual) and, secondly, there was the matter of her name – Grammaticus: now a surname of great interest to Tibor.

He sat back in his chair and played his fingers on the desktop. Something was going on here, a chain of events set in motion, surely, by Fate. Well, if Fate wished to direct his actions, then he
wasn’t going to ignore Her! So he took out a piece of paper and began to write.

19