Page 70 of The Lost Future of Pepperharrow

‘No, sir, she’s wholly sane, but she was very ill treated in the past. She was born in a workhouse.’

He paused. ‘Very well. Miss Steepleton?’ he added, in the patronising tone of people who hadn’t met any children since they were children themselves. ‘What do you say to Dr Willis?’

‘Don’t attack me again please,’ she said in her emotionless way.

‘I didn’t attack her,’ Willis protested. ‘I only said—’

‘Perhaps we ought to draw a line under the thing,’ Vaulker said, looking unsettled. He studied Thaniel. ‘Get some proper rest, please, Steepleton, you look terrible. And if I ever hear you speak in such a vulgar way to anyone again, you’re sacked. Do we understand each other?’

‘We do.’

Vaulker waited for him to say ‘sir’, and Thaniel waited until Vaulker had to look away.

Vaulker trooped back up the stairs. Willis went into his office without saying anything else and shut the door. Slowly, because the room was still swaying, Thaniel went around the bed, keeping one hand on the mattress, and then eased down onto his knees on the silk rug a short way from Six.

‘That was really good, petal. You did exactly the right thing, all right? Are you hurt?’

‘No.’

‘Will you come out?’ he tried quietly.

‘No.’ She put a piece of paper – it was a cut-out of newsprint – on the floor beside her, seemed to screw up the kind of courage it would have taken him to catch a spider in both hands, then pushed it, fast, over the boards. She couldn’t reach far enough and edged it further towards him with the toe of her boot, before snatching her leg back under the shadow of the little table. Thaniel took it gradually. Leaning made all the muscles howl down his strapped arm and on that side of his chest.

The article was about a spate of electrocutions, all at blacksmiths’ workshops. He read it aloud and saw her ease a bit, but she didn’t come out.

‘I found out what that blue light is,’ she said into her knees. ‘It’s called St Elmo’s fire. Usually you only ever see it at sea, before a storm, on the masts of ships. It’s to do with static electricity and vapour in the air.’

‘Why do we have it here?’

She didn’t seem to hear. ‘We’ve got scrap iron in all the fireplaces now instead of fires. Mine is full of old bed-knobs. I fried an egg on them.’ She was looking into the deep distance. ‘I made them put the horseshoes in yours because you need some luck.’

‘That’s kind,’ he said helplessly. Out of bed and calmer now, he was starting to feel the cold. He could see that Willis had something glowing in the grate – it might have been a length of heavy chain – but it wasn’t anything like as warm as a fire. ‘Will you show me?’

Six was quiet, then nodded and crawled out. She straightened up and brushed off her dress, and waited for Thaniel to stand as well. It was difficult. He swallowed. The air tasted so dry it was sandy.

‘Can you hold my hand? Or I’ll fall over.’

She did think about it. ‘No,’ she said.

‘Let’s – just go slowly then.’

‘You shouldn’t be going anywhere,’ Willis said from the office. ‘Don’t be surprised if you collapse.’

Thaniel shook his head at nobody and couldn’t think of anything to say that Vaulker wouldn’t mind.

‘He’s a prick,’ Six said sombrely. ‘Pay no attention.’

He laughed, which hurt. She kept pace with him as he inched up the steps, one hand on the wainscoting. When he half fell, she waited but didn’t touch him. In the porcelain bowl in his room, Six’s lightbulbs were still alight. They were brighter than before.

‘Where are you off to?’ he asked, because she had picked up the octopus lightbulb and now she was heading back for the door.

‘To show this to Mr Fukuoka.’

‘Ah – hold on, petal. Why?’

‘He’s my friend. He gave me half of his jam thing.’

He bit the end of his tongue. Fukuoka was a kind man, Thaniel was nearly sure. ‘All right,’ he said at last. ‘But don’t stay with him too long, he has plenty to do.’