Von Gobstopper's Arcade (18 page)

‘How’s Pascal?’ Ernest remembered to ask as they scrambled out.

‘A little shaken, and more than a little embarrassed at the trouble she has caused, but otherwise fine,’ Loyal replied matter-of-factly.
‘I might add that she has had a dream and found her true vocation.’

‘That being?’ prompted Fritz.

‘She intends to hang up her slippers and train as a nurse.’

Despite their precarious circumstances the children had to laugh at the impetuousness of the ballerina doll they had come to love.

‘What have you managed to find out?’ the rocking horse asked.

‘Dr Illustrious is planning to ruin Christmas!’ Milli blurted out.

‘He has some mad revenge plan that involves delivering mutant toys to the town’s children,’ Ernest said.

‘But there’s more to it than that,’ added Fritz. ‘Dr Illustrious isn’t going to all this effort just to give the children a
fright.
He could just walk down the street to do that. These toys are dangerous and could cause harm.’

Loyal’s brown eyes clouded as he digested this information. ‘You can explain everything later,’ he said. ‘Let’s get you to safety first.’

But before they could move, there came the menacing sound of heels clicking on a hard
surface. They all froze on the spot, their hearts hammering in their chests. Discovery was inevitable.

The black-clad figure of Tempest Anomali rounded the corner to confront them. She had changed into a medieval gown with fluted sleeves. Her wild hair had been scooped up into a muddle on the top of her head and was held in place by combs that bore a sinister resemblance to ravens’ claws. Around her white throat she wore a necklace made of tiny speckled eggs and black eyeliner lent her eyes a feline look. She was still carrying her metal-tipped cane. When she saw the door of the cell had been yanked off and spied the rocking horse with the rope end still in his mouth, her chalky face paled even further with anger. She moved towards Loyal with the stealth of a panther.

‘Stay back,’ Loyal warned in a low voice. He positioned himself in front of Milli and Ernest.

But Tempest, used to dealing with toys that were weak and submissive, only laughed. She tried to shoulder past him, but Loyal stood his ground. A momentary look of confusion crossed
Tempest’s face. She recovered quickly and lunged at Milli and Ernest, but Loyal’s rockers blocked her path. The two collided and Tempest tumbled to the floor. Loyal cautiously retreated, but still remained protectively positioned in front of the bewildered children.

‘Let them be,’ he warned.

Milli and Ernest saw Tempest’s hands start to shake and her nostrils flare with rage. The expression they saw on Fritz’s face told them their fears were not without foundation. He was watching Tempest warily, his arms and shoulders tense.

Tempest kicked out violently but missed her aim, and broke her heel on one of Loyal’s rockers. The shiny black wood was left scratched and indented.

Fritz pushed Milli and Ernest away from Tempest. ‘Run!’ he said urgently.

The children looked confused and didn’t move.

‘Don’t wait—go now!’

But Milli and Ernest were cemented to the floor. They wanted to turn and run until their lungs ached, but they couldn’t move a single
muscle—not whilst Tempest was closing in on Loyal again.

Her second kick was powerful and sent the wooden horse crashing into the wall. Tempest smirked with pleasure at her own strength and raised her disdainful eyebrows before zeroing in on the children. She seized Milli in an iron grip, but Loyal heaved himself to his feet with a grunt and he threw himself at Tempest. She reeled back and let go of Milli’s wrist.

Loyal, too, implored the children to run. ‘Didn’t you hear Fritz?’ he said. ‘Go!’

‘We’re not leaving you,’ Milli cried, and the rocking horse brayed with frustration.

He opened his mouth to speak again, but Tempest clutched at a handful of his mane and used it to drag herself up. Loyal whinnied in pain and nipped her hand. She let out an enraged howl and clutched it, bleeding, to her chest.

‘The others need your help!’ Loyal panted. ‘I can handle her alone!’ His breath was knocked out of him as Tempest lashed wildly at him with her cane.

Fritz could stand it no longer and went to Loyal’s aid, grabbing both of Tempest’s arms
and pinning them behind her back. Despite her rage, the curator was no match for Fritz’s strength, but at that moment five figures rounded the corner, alerted by the noise of the scuffle. The children recognised the three bodyguards followed closely by Bertha Slurp and Alistair Phony-Phitch.

Mince threw Fritz to the floor, whilst Bertha restrained Milli and Ernest in a chokehold. There was nothing further to be done. All three of them were prisoners and Loyal was surrounded.

Despite the cruel faces leering down at him, the rocking horse showed no sign of fear. For a split second he caught Milli’s eye and seemed to pass on to her a message of hope. Loyal’s eyes were as warm as ever and Milli felt strangely comforted. The feeling was immediately replaced by a terrible numbness as the sound of splitting timber filled the air. Loyal lay in a broken heap in the corner. His rockers had been snapped, rendering him immobile, and he could only snap his teeth helplessly at his attackers.

With her confidence restored, Tempest approached the rocking horse with menace in
her eye. The children watched in stunned horror as a spearhead shot from the tip of her cane. She plunged it coolly and ruthlessly into the horse’s side, then stood back looking rather pleased with her efforts.

With a superhuman strength fuelled by grief, Milli, Ernest and Fritz wrenched themselves free of their captors and rushed to Loyal’s side. The horse let out a feeble moan and struggled to keep his eyes open.

‘Hang on, Loyal,’ begged Fritz, his eyes luminous with tears. ‘Uncle Gustav will mend you, as good as new.’

‘Dear Fritz,’ faltered Loyal, ‘do not fail us now.’ There was a shuddering exhalation as the rocking horse breathed his last.

Tempest and the bodyguards prodded him with their feet.

‘Keep away from him!’ Milli cried, her face tear-streaked as she tried to shield Loyal with her arms.

What happened next the children would later recall only as a blur. The world had taken on a foggy, dream-like quality. They felt the grip of
strong arms propelling them forward, they smelled a combination of tobacco and alcohol that told them they were back in the common room, but it was as if they had detached from their bodies and were watching themselves from a height. It was only from her dry, raw throat that Milli suspected she had been screaming at some point.

All of Milli’s vitality had ebbed out of her and it took a great deal of concentration just to curl up in a ball on one of the green vinyl couches. She was dimly aware of Fritz’s hand on her back and his tear-stained face looking down at her.

All three listened with complete indifference to the babble of voices around them, deliberating on what was to be their fate. Alistair Phony-Phitch eventually sidled up to them with a smarmy announcement.

‘Dr Illustrious has invited you to be the guests of honour at our Christmas party tonight.’

‘You’re joking, right?’ snarled Fritz. ‘What makes you think we want anything to do with brutes like you!’

Alistair Phony-Phitch looked mildly offended. ‘Watch who you’re calling brutes,’ he said. ‘This job is a stepping stone for me on the ladder of success. Besides, nobody has ever knocked back an invitation from the doctor before.’

The children were issued with Santa hats and forced to attend what could only be described as a parody of a Christmas party. It was held in the canteen, where the plastic chairs had been draped with black tinsel. A large wreath of thorns sat as a centrepiece on the long table. The baubles and bells strung up across the room were also black, creating a morbid feel. In place of balloons, inflated surgical gloves had been tied in small bunches from the ceiling fan. The Botchers finally looked cheerful as, for them, it marked the close of a long year. They were looking forward to spending time with their families and not having to practise their peculiar brand of surgery for at least a month. Dr Illustrious and Tempest were there, sipping cumquat champagne from test-tube glasses. Tempest wore a lock of horsehair, the colour of crème brûlée, around her neck as a pendant.

Eggnog was being served and there were bedpans full of Christmas fare—roast turkey, fruitcake, plum pudding and mince pies. Dr Illustrious ate nothing; Tempest nibbled reluctantly on some turkey slices.

Tempest called everyone’s attention by banging her cane on the table, and announced that Dr Illustrious was about to make a speech.

‘Before we farewell each other and head off to different destinations, there are some acknowledgments that need to be made,’ the doctor said. ‘Firstly, I must extend my thanks to all the arcade staff for their commitment and service in what, at times, have been less than ideal circumstances. You will all find a Christmas bonus in your pay envelopes.’

Cheers broke out at this point and the Botchers exchanged self-congratulatory nods. In their eyes, the bonuses were well and truly overdue.

Dr Illustrious waited for the last cheer to die down. ‘Secondly,’ he said, ‘heartfelt thanks must go to our director and chief designer, Ms Tempest Anomali. No one here could deny that without her warped vision, our great work would
not have been possible. I’d like to present her now with a small token of our esteem.’

One of the trolls materialised from the kitchen carrying a huge bunch of blackened twigs. Tempest could not have looked more pleased had she been presented with diamonds from Tiffany’s. The Botchers applauded half-heartedly.

‘I look forward to seeing you all again, refreshed and ready for new projects,’ continued Dr Illustrious. ‘We will, of course, be operating out of our new premises by the new year, directions to which will be issued to you via snake mail towards the end of next month. Make sure to keep your compasses handy.’ Dr Illustrious chuckled as if he’d just told a hilarious joke. ‘And now there appears to be nothing more to say other than
Happy Holidays and enjoy a well-earned break!’

Unrestrained applause arose from the Botchers, especially those planning to hand in their resignations immediately after collecting their pay packets. Some Botchers hung up their lab coats and headed for the door, but others stayed chatting and refilling their glasses from
the bottles of French cognac carried around on trays by trolls whose wide grins bore witness to the fact that they too were partaking liberally.

Dr Illustrious was suddenly behind the children. ‘Do you know what day it is today?’ he breathed into their necks. It made their skin prickle in discomfort. ‘It’s Christmas Eve,’ he said. ‘Time for that ride you were promised.’

Milli and Ernest felt as if they had resurfaced from the bottom of a very deep well. How could it be Christmas Eve already? It wasn’t possible. When they had returned on Loyal’s back to the arcade, there had been days until Christmas. Could time have passed so quickly?

Milli’s thoughts spun instantly towards Peppercorn Place and her family. What must they be thinking? It was Christmas and their youngest daughter had gone missing for the second time that year. Had they pinned her stocking up on the mantelpiece or had they put it away in a drawer and given up on her altogether? She didn’t think she could blame them if they had.

Ernest thought of his family too, but also mourned the loss of something else. Christmas
was supposed to be a time when the spirit of cheerfulness pervaded everything—the decorations, the music, the feasts, the gifts were supposed to fill you with irrepressible happiness. It made you want to show kindness to others—
spreading the Christmas cheer
they called it. People looked forward to Christmas for months. He didn’t think it fair that Dr Illustrious could just waltz in and take it all away. So much effort would go to waste and so many children would be bitterly disappointed. He had felt himself losing his own Christmas cheer of late, thinking of it as more a chore than a celebration. He didn’t like this change in himself and certainly wouldn’t wish it on others. He thought of his younger siblings and how much Christmas meant to them.

Dr Illustrious’s voice broke into his thoughts. He sounded impatient. ‘Are you ready? The sleigh is waiting for us. Of course, you may stay here if you prefer. If you
want
to spend Christmas locked in a cell.’ His eyes narrowed deviously. ‘I
was
planning to drop you home to your parents,’ he said, ‘after our little journey.’

‘We’ll all go,’ said Fritz.

‘I’m afraid you are needed here,’ said Dr Illustrious with a cold smile. ‘Tempest cannot be without her assistant.’

He gave the children a mock bow. ‘You must excuse me whilst I change into more appropriate attire for tonight’s journey.’ He turned to his entourage. ‘Meet me on the roof in ten minutes.’

A
bout half an hour later, the door opened and Tempest Anomali beckoned them with a long finger. ‘Now the fun begins,’ she said, rubbing her hands together.

As Milli walked alongside the designer she found herself imagining horrible things, like forcing Tempest to undergo the surgery she had inflicted upon the toys, pulling her hair out or trampling her with an army of dolls and teddy bears. Although she knew it wasn’t right to think such hateful things about anyone (no matter what their crime), Milli couldn’t help feeling that Tempest deserved it. She tried to ease the anger that was bubbling furiously in her chest but this
only seemed to aggravate it further. She wanted Tempest punished for what she had done and it took an enormous amount of self-control not to rush at her and knock her down on the spot. But Milli knew that if she had any hope of seeing her family again and foiling Dr Illustrious’s plans, she would need to be clear-headed. For Loyal’s sake, she would think rather than react. That is what he would have wanted of her.

Tempest led the children to the top level of the arcade, up a narrow staircase and out onto the roof. Waiting for them there was Santa’s sleigh. It gleamed cherry red and gold in the moonlight, symmetrical black patterns lacquered on its side. Fairy lights studded its edges and bells and lanterns hung off its elegantly curved back. Milli realised at once that anyone seeing it from below would never guess that its driver had such sinister intentions. The seats were made of soft, warm leather and two fur jackets waited for the children, to protect them from the falling snow. Milli was reminded of stories her history teacher at St Erudite’s had told them about prisoners receiving kind hospitality before being led to the gallows.