The Lunatic's Curse (19 page)

‘Yes. In fact this is my first proper job.’

‘What did you do before?’

Hildred looked a little awkward. ‘Don’t make fun,’ she said, ‘but I used to be with a travelling show. I don’t suppose you’ve heard of Rudy Idolice and his
Peregrinating Panopticon?’

‘I have,’ said Rex, but he didn’t say that what he’d heard was that the show was going steadily downhill and did not enjoy half the reputation it used to. ‘What was
your act?’

‘I was a contortionist!’ In an instant Hildred had twisted herself into such a knot of limbs, accompanied by ominous cracking sounds, that Rex feared for her health. But quick as a
flash she was back to normal. Well, nearly normal. Her left shoulder was still dislocated and it took a second or two for her to snap it back into place. Rex didn’t quite know how to react and
he just stood staring dumbfounded while Hildred looked a little uncomfortable.

‘One of the reasons I left,’ she said quietly, ‘was I didn’t want to be looked at any more.’

‘Sorry,’ said Rex, and he averted his eyes to the ceiling.

Together they ascended the stairs from the kitchen to the main entrance hall. Taking up a position with the front doors behind him, Rex had a proper look around. The hall was large and airy but
plainly decorated. The walls were half panelled in dark wood, above which they were painted white. There were some pictures hanging from the picture rail and a floral tapestry. On his right was the
wide-arched hallway that led into the east wing where Dr Velhildegildus had his own rooms and his study. Directly opposite, the main staircase rose diagonally against the back wall leading up to the
first floor. ‘There are lots of rooms up there,’ said Hildred. ‘That’s where Walter and Mrs Runcible and Gerulphus sleep.’

‘And what’s through there?’ asked Rex, pointing at two hallways side by side in the far left corner.

‘One leads down to the underground cells,’ said Hildred matter-of-factly.

‘Cells? Sounds like a prison,’ joked Rex, but Hildred didn’t answer.

‘And the other leads up to our rooms,’ she finished. She turned to give him a smile. ‘Come on.’

‘I heard there was a ghost roaming around in the catacombs under the asylum,’ he said.

‘It’s true there is an underground maze, but I haven’t found it. And I certainly haven’t seen any ghosts.’

Rex followed Hildred along the narrow corridor, at the end of which was a rickety set of wooden stairs. They climbed three flights before reaching a small square landing with two doors.
‘You’re in here,’ said Hildred, ‘and I’m just opposite.’

Rex looked to where she was pointing and saw into her small room. She had stuck newspaper cuttings and leaflets to the wall, about the Panopticon in its heyday, and on the table beside her bed
was a small framed silhouette – of her parents, he presumed. He entered his own room. It was painfully bare by comparison. He had a bed, a chair, a table and a trunk for his clothes. The
walls were grey, unpainted, and the plaster was crumbling in places.

‘I did my best,’ said Hildred apologetically, ‘but . . . ’

‘It’s fine,’ said Rex, and laid his bag on the bed and sat down heavily.

Hildred hesitated. ‘You don’t look very happy. Are you all right?’

Rex looked into her eyes and before he knew what he was doing, he blurted out, ‘My father . . . he died just recently.’

Hildred nodded. ‘How utterly dreadful for you.’ Rex
realized that these were the kindest words he had heard in many days. A mist came up over his eyes and his nose began to sting. Hildred patted his shoulder and then, rather strangely he thought,
settled cross-legged on the floor looking up at him. ‘Tell me what’s wrong.’

Rex couldn’t believe that he was so quick to pour out his troubles, but it was the first time since his father had died that someone seemed to be genuinely listening. Now that he had
started he wasn’t sure that he would be able to stop.

‘He was here, in this asylum, but he wasn’t mad. I’m sure my stepmother had something to do with it. Father was fine before he met her and then suddenly he went completely
crazy. She drove him mad. He attacked me and . . . and . . . well, it was just terrible. I try to forget it. Look, I have a scar.’ He held out his arm and Hildred examined the raised red mark
carefully.

‘Your poor father,’ she said gently. ‘What happened to him?’

‘He escaped from the asylum and came back one night to the house. He was trying to tell me something but he was ill and couldn’t say much. He left me some clues, but they don’t
make any sense. I want to find out what really happened and I think the answer is here in the asylum.’

‘Is that the real reason you are here?’ asked Hildred intuitively. She saw Rex’s hesitation. ‘You mustn’t worry,’ she said. ‘I can keep a secret. Tell me
the clues. I’m quite good at this sort of thing – perhaps I can help.’

Rex sighed. What harm would it do? So he told her about the book and seeing Mr Sarpalius, about Acantha and about Andrew Faye . . . almost everything, in a muddled jumble of words. And the whole
time Hildred listened intently without speaking a word.

‘So, you see, Father told me to come here,’ he finished, ‘but I didn’t know how to get here without Acantha knowing. And then Tibor asked for my help.
’
Should he tell her about the Perambulating Submersible? He decided not just yet. He didn’t like the deceit but he had given his word. ‘Luck I suppose.’

‘Or Fate?’ said Hildred thoughtfully.

‘I don’t know if I believe in Fate,’ said Rex with a bitter laugh. ‘She hasn’t been kind to me.’

Hildred got to her feet. ‘Being sad won’t bring your father back. You need to clear his name. It’s just a puzzle. When we have all the pieces the picture will become
clear.’

‘I suppose so,’ said Rex doubtfully. With a deep sigh he stood up and began to unpack his bag. It didn’t take long – a few spare clothes, another pair of boots and at the
bottom the book he had taken from the library. When he pulled the brazen egg from his pocket Hildred pounced on it immediately.

‘What’s that?’ she asked.

‘Just something I made with my father.’

Hildred examined it carefully. It was smooth all over, even at the joins. Rex set it down on the table and pushed a button at the top and she watched in delight as four legs unfolded from out of
the sides. It rose up and began to move slowly across the surface with regular clicking noises. It looked like some sort of fat-bodied insect.

‘Oh, it’s delightful,’ she said, and placed her fingertips gently on the table as it made its mechanical progress towards her. ‘It’s so delicate you can hardly feel
it moving. How does it work?’

Rex smiled, enjoying the satisfaction of seeing something that had started out as a jumble of discrete pieces of metal and screws being brought to life as a whole. ‘Magnets mainly,’
he said, ‘and a few other things. I made lots of models like these, but this is my favourite.’ he said. ‘Acantha smashed the rest of them.’

Then from somewhere deep in the heart of the building a bell jangled. ‘What’s that for?’ asked Rex. Hildred, engrossed as she was in the mechanism, didn’t seem to hear.
Rex touched her on the back and she jumped.

‘What’s the bell for?’

She put her hand to her mouth. ‘Oh, it’s Dr Velhildegildus. I completely forgot! I’m to take him his supper.’ She hurried to the stairs. ‘I’ll come back
later, and we’ll make a proper plan. I love mysteries.’

‘But you won’t say anything to him about this, will you?’ said Rex anxiously. ‘The egg, I mean. I have little else left to remind me of my father. Dr Velhildegildus seems
kind enough but for all I know—’

Hildred shook her head. ‘We all have our secrets,’ she said simply, and then she was gone.

Rex lay down on the bed and looked up at the dusty cobwebbed ceiling. This was certainly a far cry from his father’s house on the shores of the lake. And Acantha. He’d looked it up
once, her name. It meant ‘thorny spine’.

‘How true,’ he murmured. He was tired now. He felt as if he had been on a long journey. And Mrs Runcible’s soup was weighing him down. He picked up the brazen egg and smiled.
It was only one small thing but it meant so much.

Yes, he thought. We all have our secrets.

But what was Hildred’s?

29

Rex woke suddenly from a deep sleep. He sat up and his breath clouded on the cold air – which was strange: usually there would be a fire in the grate. He pulled his
blanket around him and wrinkled his nose at the smell. He ran his hand over it, and it was rough to the touch. And then he remembered: he wasn’t in Opum Oppidulum any more, and he
wasn’t in his own bedroom.

Neither was he alone.

In his sleep-befuddled state he called out ‘Father?’ before realizing that it couldn’t possibly be him. But there was definitely a figure in the doorway and now it was moving
towards him.

‘It’s me,’ whispered the figure.

‘Hildred!’ He recognized her voice but also that swaying gait. He leaned over and fumbled to light his candle. ‘What time is it?’ he asked, holding up the light to see
her shining eyes.

‘Oh, around midnight. I told you I’d come back.’

Midnight? How long does it take to give someone supper, he wondered.

‘I’ve been thinking about what you told me,’ said Hildred. ‘We should try to find your father’s cell. He might have left something there for you. I can take you
there if you like.’

‘Now?’

Hildred was already at the door. Rex pulled on his boots and went after her. As he descended the stairs behind her he caught the faintest whiff of something, like ashes from a fire.

If Rex had thought the asylum gloomy by day, he decided that by night it was positively creepy. He kept close to Hildred. She seemed unworried by the darkness and the eerie
creaks and groans of the building.

‘Did you hear that?’ he hissed, pulling Hildred’s sleeve.

‘What?’ Hildred held her lantern up high so she could see Rex’s worried face.

‘That moaning.’

‘It might be the ghost,’ she said, and then laughed. ‘It’s probably the wind. This building is very old. If you put your hand on the walls sometimes you can feel it
move.’

Rex flattened his palm against the wall but he felt nothing. ‘How well do you know this place?’ he asked.

‘Hardly at all,’ replied Hildred. ‘I’ve had a look around and it’s easy to see that Chapelizod lived very well in the east wing. The patients were not so lucky. Now
come on.’

Rex followed Hildred down to the entrance hall and then took a sharp right under the arch into the second corridor until they came to a flight of steep descending steps.

‘My father said that his room was upstairs,’ said Rex. ‘I used to watch the light at night.’

Hildred shook her head. ‘Most of the rooms are empty up there. Perhaps you saw Mrs Runcible’s light.’

‘But what about the lunatics?’ asked Rex.

Hildred hesitated for a moment. ‘Rex, the patients were all kept underground.’

She started down the steps and Rex followed somewhat reluctantly. Already he could smell dampness in the air, and something else: an increasingly foul odour. Down they went and down, deeper and
deeper, and the atmosphere thickened with every step and the smell was almost unbearable. Rex was more and more unnerved.

‘Surely this can’t be right,’ he said half to himself and half out loud as he reached the bottom and looked around in dismay. This was no longer part of the building. It was as
if they were in the heart of the rocky island itself. The smell was terrible and the air was choking. Hildred was further on, struggling with a door that was hanging off its hinges. ‘Damaged
in the breakout,’ she explained, finally dragging it open.

Rex helped to prop it up against the wall and they went through into a low-roofed rocky tunnel. And in their lanterns’ light the full horror of the place was revealed.

‘Oh my,’ breathed Rex. His words echoed off the craggy walls. He felt sick to his stomach. How could his father have survived down here? How could anyone survive down here?

All along the tunnel there were cells on either side. The iron-barred doors were wide open and Rex looked inside the forbidding subterranean chambers. Each was tiny, almost too small for a man
to stand up in, and the uneven floors were wet and water puddled in the dips. The walls were running and long streaks of green slime clung to the surface. Bold and curious rats stared up at him,
their little eyes shining in the darkness, seemingly unafraid.

No wonder the lunatics had jumped to their deaths in the lake. Its freezing embrace would have been more comfort than this.

‘Chapelizod kept everyone down here,’ said Hildred, watching him intently. ‘Walter Freakley told me.’

Rex took a deep breath. ‘Are you telling me that my father was kept in one of these?’

‘It’s possible,’ said Hildred, and then she saw the look on his face. ‘Oh, Rex, I’m sorry. How thoughtless of me. I should have warned you.’

Rex swallowed hard. He felt as if he was choking. ‘How do I know which cell was my father’s?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Hildred. ‘Was he alone?

‘He had a friend, a fellow called Hooper,’ said Rex hoarsely. He was finding it hard to speak.