

Antigone Finch

Finch

by

Veronique O'Toole

©Veronique Lorraine O'Toole. May 2020.

Antigone Finch

CONTENTS

## Prologue

### 1: Antigone Expelled

2: Wilde at Heart

3: Charlotte and Jane

4: Bang up the Elephant

5: Whistle and Flute

6: Disobedience

7: Perspiration and Pistols

8: Book of Life and Death

9: Ravinda and Viresh

10. The Spirit Men

11. Pearls of Wisdom

12. Tom

13. The Debrief

14. Stalking Tigers

15. Portia and Vivienne

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

16. The Italian Stiletto

17. All Hands on Deck

18. Aftermath

19. Pleasant and Unpleasant Surprises

20. India

Epilogue

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

PROLOGUE

It is a very dark time indeed, when a girl is forbidden to sneak out of school.

Anonymous.

A

silhouette dashed between grasping; long- ngered shadows that waltzed across the lawn like phantom dancers. Shinning black gas lamps transformed the gnarled roots of oak and ash trees into unnatural shapes, and under her feet, the ground was sodden. Each footfall made a sucking, drooling noise. Thankfully, the sky was pitch-black. Perfect for improper behaviour and perfec ,t Antigone shuddered, for ghosts and ghouls. She ploughed her way to the east wing where her dormitory was tucked between the kitchen and Ms Hornwhistle's chamber.

Antigone wedged a buttoned boot into a nook that had been worn into the wall by past Chaf ey girls who either did not care for authority or desperately needed freedom. Antigone straddled both camps. She was sick and tired of the petty rules and grownup enough to sense the glorious freedom of adulthood. Charlotte had left the window open a crack so with one boot jammed into the nook and the other balancing on a bucket, Antigone opened the led-glass window towards herself. It was a tricky manoeuvre and practice was the only thing that would stop a girl from falling backwards into the mud.

Antigone hoisted herself up and wiggled her tummy across the windowsill. She was sliding forward, legs mid-air and skirts ballooning behind her when an orb of light, at rst small but growing larger as it moved closer, interrupted her. She furiously inch-wormed herself backwards. But it was too late. Either side of the window, single wrought-iron beds, heavy with quilts and blankets came into focus. Antigone groaned and shot a glance to her left. Charlotte was wide awake with the pillow stuffed into her mouth to stop herself from laughing. She pointed to the shape taking form behind a bulbous paraf n lamp. Antigone's insides dissolved.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'I am sure your clever friends here could apply some suitable adjectives to describe this, this exhibition of disobedience,' Hornwhistle carefully placed the lamp on a round table in the centre of the dormitory.

'We are all acutely aware that you, Miss Finch, do not possess the skill necessary to express your own self. So, Charlotte, perhaps you would like to try,' she peered through the dim light to Charlotte who had had to cover her face. Her entire body was positively vibrating with laughter, but it was obvious that this was not a rhetorical question—

'Sc ... sc ... scandalised ... I suppose might t ... your reaction', she gulped air and bit into the pillow.

Hornwhistle frowned. One rotten apple will spoil a barrel and Charlotte was part of the barrel, 'Dear me, you are just as bad as each other. And you, Jane, what word would you ascribe to this indecent situation?'

Jane was thinking of other words to describe Miss Hornwhitsle and they were unladylike adjectives to say the least. She pushed herself up,

'would someone shut the window please, it's cold and late and we have lessons tomorrow. Good night Miss Hornwhistle'.

Hornwhistle inched. Had she just been dismissed by a child? What was the world coming to? She tutted. Antigone knew Hornwhistle wanted to reprimand Jane, but Jane was too smart. It would end in humiliation. Instead, Hornwhistle retrieved the lamp—

'Enjoy your sleep Miss Finch, it will be the last one under this roof'.

Antigone did as she was told, but mainly because she was exhausted. Somewhere deep in the hallway she could hear the headmistress uttering things about being impertinent, lazy, and contrary.

Antigone sighed and slipped out of her wet boots and damp clothes. She snuggled into her little bed which sat across from Jane. After some time staring at the ceiling she said—

'Girls, do you think she was cross?'

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'What hymns would you like at your funeral?' Jane asked dryly.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

## CHAPTER ONE

### ANTIGONE EXPELLED

Chaf ey Co ege. 1 - 4 Park Road.

City of London

January 1895

Dear L d and Lady Fils de Finch,

I am pained to ite is letter but wi get straight to e point. We after midnight, your daughter was discovered, partia y dressed, and climbing into her d mit y window.

She refused to disclose her whereabouts, and whe er she has disgraced e good name of Chaf ey is yet to be s n. I have no choice but to enf ce Antigone's immediate removal from school.

Yours Respectfu y

Ms. H nwhistle

Headmistress

Antigone curled into a tight ball trying to squeeze out the emptiness. It was a feeling she tried extremely hard to suppress. A mood that made her feel strange in the world. At school she was happy. It was at home, away from London and friends, that the yearning inside her became unbearable. It was like she had a gaping hole inside her belly that nothing would ll. Antigone kicked out at a garish green and purple lump.

Her entire bedroom was swathed in this unsettling blend of colours and though large, it had the atmosphere of an overripe cof n.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

What am I feeling

? She thought, twirling her fountain pen. She needed to get it down on paper to make it real because sometimes she was lled with a peculiar other-world energy that detached her from reality. And that created even more problems. Eventually, she began: I am discombobulated.

H nwhistle is a beast. I wonder if Mo er and H nwhistle planned is?

They loa e me. This is bad. I can f l it.

The way H nwhistle shouted my name – Ann-Tig-Own-E – it was like a curse.

Antigone pressed pen to lips. The memory of Hornwhistle's gloating smile as she slammed the carriage door was worrying. It had seemed very nal. Antigone was, to date, Ms. Hornwhistle's least favourite student.

Antigone could not count the number of times she had heard Ms.

Hornwhistle say: 'In all my life, I have never ever come across such a headstrong, contrary child – you astound me – in the worst possible way'.

The situation was grim. Antigone dropped the diary and rolled onto her back. She searched her conscience for signs of guilt. But all she came up with was a sense of unfairness, I am nearly an adult. Why should I be punished for doing what everyone else does? Wel mostly everyone, alright just some. Nonetheless, it is not as if I have done anything offensive or embarrassing or wicked, she thought miserably. A rustle of taffeta and dull clunk of the key turning heralded the root of all suffering—

'Antigone'.

'This is a nice surprise, Mummy,' Antigone inched her diary under the pillow. If her mother got hold of it, there would be hell to pay for the spelling mistakes alone.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

Antigone's mother feigned an expression of tribulation and woe.

Mother and daughter had played this game for as long as Antigone could remember.

'Antigone Fils de Finch,' her mother's breasts began to wobble. This was always a bad sign, 'the way you continually drag this family's name into the papers, through the mud, it beggars belief! Are you not worried about your reputation, your future?'

Usually, this type of tirade was adequate punishment and Antigone would be sent back to school on the next train. As an only child in a household of one indifferent mother and mostly absent father, Antigone preferred to be at school. Everyone preferred her to be at school.

'I didn't get caught doing anything – much. Hornwhistle thinks I was climbing in the window, but I was climbing out – you know – just catching a breath of fresh air'.

'At two in the morning?'

'Well – yes – it was hard to sleep,' Antigone petered off and slumped onto the pillow de ated. This interlude was going to be longer and harder than she anticipated, and her mother had weird energy; not as frazzled. Not as hysterical, much more –

Antigone cocked her head to get

a better perspective; more level-headed which is doubly as weird, s he

thought.

Antigone's mother unclasped a silver vial which hung on a chain around her neck. From it, she withdrew a tiny spoon on which perched a lump of snuff. She squeezed her left nostril shut and wedged the yellow mound under the other. Antigone steeled herself. The sound alone was enough to make her vomit, let alone gag. Her mother snuf ed up the substance as though a hippopotamus were trying to inhale a coconut—

'And what of this talk of nakedness? I don't recognise you anymore'.

'I lost a shoe, Mother, good grief, I was just climbing through the window. Hornwhistle was exaggerating to make me out as a shameless ...'

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'A shameless what? What have you been up to young lady?'

'Oh, just send me back to school like always – Mother, please'.

'That is a categorical NO,' Antigone's mother let the last word hang in the air like a shiny gift. She was the image of a pudding bag with many rolling and lolling lumps and bumps. Her bodice which was double the whalebone and canvas of most women her size, caused the esh to ow upwards and transform two moderate breasts into vast, gelatinous mountains. She also refused to wear a modest lace collar, so it was impossible, no matter how many hours one spent in her presence, to not stare in morbid fascination.

What in heaven's name has she got

? Antigone watched with

mounting anxiety as her mother grappled with something that resembled a giant, taxidermy canary.

'What do you mean categorical NO '

? Antigone kept her voice level. It

was too soon to panic although her mind kept darting back to the oubliette and the skittering of rat paws over bones.

'Good Lord, what do they teach in schools these days? Categorical no means ...'

'I know what it means, Mother, but what do you mean by NO? Surely you don't intend to keep me home any longer than necessary to satisfy Hornwhistle?'

'I am not at liberty to discuss that with you, Antigone. You will do as you are told. Ask no questions and for goodness sake, be a good girl,' her mother jerked the rest of the yellow monstrosity from behind the door.

'You are going to wear this today,' her mother smiled triumphantly. She puffed out the already bloated skirt.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Remarkable! It is the exact colour of your eyes,' Antigone was home for less than a few hours. Her mother had been in the room for less than ve minutes and already they were mid-battle. Antigone turned her back on her mother and wandered to the window. It must be Dutch courage, Antigone thought, right now I just do not care. Below, Nancy was hanging washing in the courtyard. Antigone tapped the glass.

'Don't be ridiculous, my eyes are blue,' Antigone's mother held a corner of the dress up to the mirror.

'The yellow bits of your eyes, Mummy,' Antigone said sweetly. She tapped the glass again and waved.

Her mother stomped her foot. Her eyes bulged and her lips rounded into a pussy-cat bottom, 'you are out – of – CONTROL,' she shrieked. 'It's all your Father's fault. He has been invisible. I might as well be a single parent for there is no help for me. Not a skerrick. I would have been much suited to being childless'.

Dutch courage transformed into hostility. Abruptly nothing was sacred and no topic off limits.

'Goodness, barren and childless! That is a low blow,' Antigone did exactly as her school friends had coached her to do – affect boredom and strike with a few light-hearted insults that erred on the side of solid fact.

Today, however was not the best time to swap insults, there was something ex of cio in her mother's tone that promised a cruel ending. Antigone decided not to say anything else. Her mother was unhinged.

'And you are rude beyond measure'.

Antigone clenched her sts. She might have failed miserably at reading and writing long essays, but she was superb at self-defence.

Perhaps a little too good, dear Lord, please stop me, I don't want to say it, I don't want to say it, I don' ,t she prayed silently—

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'As a matter of fact, I measure my rudeness very carefully, Mother,' if she was in for a penny she was in for a pound, 'I am highly attuned to what measure of rudeness warrants a particular situation and while you are stamping your foot like a child...'

Antigone was being overly reckless, but her mouth was simply moving of its own volition, 'it is my duty to highlight your talent for drama by being impertinent, mocking and derisive'. Antigone snatched the offensive dress from her mother and tossed it onto the oor. 'All those big words mean the same thing by the way'.

Her mother's hands uttered, and a webbing of red welts crisscrossed her chest.

'Would you like some more words, Mother? There are plenty ...'

'Enough is enough, Antigone. You were always too clever for your own good. Well perhaps only in some ways,' her mother slipped in. 'Right now, however, I have the upper hand. Today you will wear this dress; you will receive Cousin Charles with poise and grace. You will,' she gave Antigone a long appraising look, 'you will agree to everything Charles has to say and if you refuse...' the muscles of her face slackened. She looked suddenly aged and bent.

'Have you lost your train of thought again, Mother? I can't stand the suspense'.

'If you refuse, you will suffer the consequences – it is your choice'.

The words fell into Antigone's mind like ice rain. Her breath caught somewhere between her chest and throat. She froze. The times when her mother was not vying for sympathy or over dramatizing were few and far between. At this moment Antigone could tell her mother was speaking genuine and ghastly truth—

'It sounds as though I have no choice'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Correct, you have no choice whatsoever'. Antigone's mother turned the door handle to leave but in the last moment turned resignedly, 'we just can't manage you anymore'. The door closed with solemn nality. The death had been rung.

An hour later, Antigone remained motionless, glued to the spot and barely breathing. She had an idea that if she did not move, everything would go away. She wanted to be numb and if she could not stay numb, she wanted to sleep. If she could not sleep, she thought she might break.

She knew that she must look like a deranged criminal, which could be a happy intervention. Cousin Charles was a stickler for perfection and right now, Antigone was far from perfect. Tear marks stained her cheeks. Her skin which was even more of a consternation for her mother, was not losing the dark tint of summer. Antigone's mane of fawn coloured hair simultaneously stuck out at weird angles and hung in ink-stained clumps.

She hovered in a delicious but dangerous netherworld. Her eyes glazed over. She could not move.

A rm rap on the arched door disturbed the silence. The door was so thick and heavy it barely penetrated. Nancy did not wait for an answer.

She lobbed into the room trailing her usual perfume of soap akes and lemon juice. It took her eyes a few moments to adjust to the change in light, the change in atmosphere. But gradually Antigone materialised, silent as a stone.

'Antigone – Tiggs – are you alright?' Nancy stored her wicker sewing basket on the windowsill and turned her full attention to Antigone.

Ordinarily, they would have hugged and maybe squealed a bit, but Antigone stuck rmly to her plan. No breathing, no moving. It was sort of working; it looked as though Nancy might leave her alone but, instead, she raised a callused hand and rmly slapped her cheek.

'Come on chicken, you're in a state of shock that's all. Come on, Tiggs, my love, snap out of it,' Nancy stood back and studied her friend.

Antigone stayed mute – no talking – no blinking – no breathing. Nancy slapped the other cheek.

'That was a bit hard, Nance,' Antigone mustered a crooked smile.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Needed to be even,' Nancy's broad, country face erupted into a smile

'What on earth is happening, Nancy? This isn't feeling good, not at all.

Mother – she – she,' Antigone oundered.

'She doesn't win any awards for being a loving mother. Her dogs are more important than you. I know it and you know it. We have been having this conversation for years, but you listen to me, my love, she never came close to besting you before and I promise she will not now. You just need a little time to get your head together,' Nancy wrapped her arms around Antigone and hugged her.

Antigone had best friends at school, and plenty of other friends in London, but if she were asked who her most beloved person in the world was, it would be Nancy. They had grown up, side by side; scampering around the kitchen, playing in elds and getting into muddy trouble. But it was clear from the beginning, that their alliance was going to be nipped in the bud. At the end of summer just after her seventh birthday, Antigone was whisked away from home and relinquished into the care of Ms. Imelda Hornwhistle. The dour headmistress of Chaf ey College.

'Hang about,' Nancy checked outside the door and closed it silently. The old trout was loitering'.

'Which one, Mother or Mrs. Codd?'

'Mrs. Codd. She's been snif ng about to see if I be bothering you. But I was sent up. Your Mother, she wants you tted and ready by three o'clock,' Nancy picked up the yellow dress from the oor and turned up her nose.

Antigone's brain had not been in use for over an hour. Not ready to switch it on again, she let Nancy's words slide away. It was more dif cult to ignore the dress though.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

Nancy found the opening of the petticoat, 'you know, me Mam always said there was something ...' Nancy tapped her head looking for the right words, 'unusual about your cousin'. A cheeky expression lit up her eyes. 'I remember me Mam used to say that Charles trotted about like a cat who got the cream ever since he was a small lad'. Nancy opened the skirt for Antigone to step into. 'And now I reckon I know what she meant.

He's one of them – ah – now what do you call them – I read all about it other day – homosexual, that's what he is; a homosexual,' Nancy said with a rm nod.

'Since when have you been reading the newspaper?' It seemed that every time Antigone came home Nancy had changed. Nothing would make Antigone happier than to see Nancy escape from the smallness of St. Bees. The village's two main attractions were the railway station, and St. Bees-next-to-Finch, a 15t

h century Church which reigned over its little domain with opprobrious stain glass eyes. Antigone had a deep dread of the place. It was said to be haunted by the ghost of her namesake, Antigone-Margot Fils de Finch whom Antigone believed, threw herself off the tower to escape an overbearing, interfering and genuinely hysterical mother.

'I have indeed,' Nancy answered brightly. 'I read all about that Oscar Wilde trial in London. It is not right that a person cannot choose for themselves who they love. It's not something a girl like me knows much about but ...'

'Go on, Nancy, you have as much right as anyone to have an opinion'.

'Well from what I read; Mr. Wilde prefers the company of men to women. He says it ain't natural for him to like women in that way,' Nancy paused to see if she was saying something improper. But of course, the Wilde case was the talk of London.

'Mm,' Antigone encouraged. It was unusual for a country girl to have opinions like this because they didn't get much of an education, let alone time to read the papers.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'So, by my reckoning, if a man such as Mr. Wilde wants to love another man and the man wants to love him back, then it ain't no one's business but theirs. He's hurting nought,' Nancy nodded rmly. Antigone opened her mouth to agree but Nancy was on a roll.

'They are persecuting him because he is famous. Because he is a writer'.

'Oh yes, I had not thought about that'. In fact, Antigone had not thought about her own problems since Nancy had stepped into the room. They were far less important than poor Mr. Wilde who was rotting away in prison. It was good to put things into perspective.

'I have been thinking,' Nancy yanked the bodice of Antigone's dress,

'If we have a brain to think, a heart to feel and hands to work, then we got a right to make our own choices if they hurt no-one'.

'You are forward-thinking, Nancy, you should be Mr. Wilde's defence lawyer'. Antigone wiggled under her corset. The whale bones gnawed at her ribs and, she had constant blue bruising, 'you are so lucky you don't have to wear these awful things'.

'If you marry Charles, he might wear them instead,' Nancy guffawed.

Her mother always said she whinnied like a horse when she laughed.

'Now then, you are ready my love,' she turned Antigone towards the mirror.

'I look like a pineapple,' Antigone sunk onto the chair utterly miserable, 'a pineapple birthday cake'.

'Tiggs,' Nancy kneeled on the oor in front of Antigone and gripped her hands, 'be careful, your parents have been planning this for a long time; it's serious'.

'Planning what?'

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'They were just waiting for you to – to get into trouble – again,' Nancy stood up and wedged open the door a fraction to check if Cod Face or Antigone's mother were eavesdropping. 'How on earth your Mother could marry you off to that popinjay is beyond me'.

'Popinjay?'

'Charles you dimwit – marry you off to Charles!'

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

## CHAPTER TWO

### WILDE AT HEART

To love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance.

Oscar Wilde

Sunlight warmed the conservatory to sluggish perfection which Antigone imagined was the best scenario for enduring a marriage proposal from an overly perfumed Cousin Charles. She slumped in her chair surrounded by a halo of downy, yellow light while he admired his artfully polished nails. The drama of the past twenty-four hours had faded, leaving in its wake a sort of exhausted emptiness. Antigone was too tired to ght. She tilted her head and took a long look at her cousin. He wore dark-tinted glasses; almost black and it was impossible to know for certain if he was even awake. Either way, Antigone thought, it was rude to hide his eyes—

'I assume my dress obliges you to wear those dark glasses, Charles,'

Antigone said acidly.

'Do I offend, Cousin?' Charles took his glasses off and slid them into his pocket. Antigone thought it was almost better when they were on, at least then she was shielded from his frigid gaze.

'Tiggles, you are refreshingly honest but no, there is no game. Auntie insists you be tamed. I can you. Voila. Simple mathematics'.

'If I remember correctly mathematics was never your strong point'.

'Ooh, well played Madam,' Charles admired himself in the teaspoon, turning it this way and that. He was only a few feet away from his cousin, but he was oblivious to the great chasm between them. He was oblivious to everything but his own splendid self. Antigone's ngers tightened around the handle of her teacup—

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'I seriously wonder if you are even aware of what you are saying, Charles. I am not a piece of esh to be sold'. Antigone wanted to slap him.

'I am NOT a wild animal to be whipped and tamed. And by you! How utterly ridiculous'. The pitch of her voice rose into the screech of an alley cat, 'you do realise I only just turned sixteen? I am still in school for goodness' sake ... this ... this ...' she motioned towards Charles and herself,

'is lunacy'.

'Tsk-tsk, I've seen girls younger than you with a babe in arms,'

Charles's lips thinned, 'come now Tiggles, the situation is not so bad. I always fancied myself as rst-class husband material'.

'More wife material I imagine you pompous, misogynistic twit,'

Antigone had meant to say this under her breath but whether she wished it or not, it slapped her cousin fairly in the face. There was a thick, unhurried pause while Charles unfurled himself to standing. His eyes darkened into a predatory stare.

'I'm sorry, Charles, I ...'

'I am not sorry, Antigone. Your behaviour leads me to believe you must be restrained,' Charles's voice soured. His high cheekbones and arctic eyes mutated into something hateful.

A vision of imprisonment in an abhorred mental institution with other poor wives who were too smart or too dif cult or just in the way caught Antigone off guard.

'You leave me in little doubt that sometime soon you will devastate our family's reputation and I forbid it – do you hear me? That – will – not –

happen'. A purple vein throbbed in Charles's neck.

'Charles ...' Antigone's pulse quickened.

'Do not interrupt me,' Charles thrust his hand out to silence her.

'But ...'

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Shh, that is enough, I won't have you irritating me like some orid yellow insect,' Charles's body shuddered in disgust. Despite having no choice in wearing the dress Antigone felt ashamed because Charles was right and more than that it was stopping her from being her. From thinking properly. She could not think but something must be said, must be agreed.

'Wait!' Antigone stood up too quickly, forgetting the teacup on her lap. It twirled through the air, paused prudently over Charles's head and deposited its contents all over his face. This was no laughing matter. It was quite possibly the worst timing ever for Antigone to get the giggles.

She was seized byan unstoppable urge to open her mouth and laugh hysterically. She could not breathe and laugh at the same time.

'I,' Antigone wheezed, 'I ... can't ... stop ... laughing'. She gripped her sides.

Charles's mouth, a gawping carp, opened and closed silently which made her even more hysterical.

'Listen here Tiggly,' Charles clenched his jaw and jutted out a nger.

'Call ... me ... Tiggly ... again ...' Antigone reached for the back of the chair to steady herself 'and I will gleefully rip you apart'. She glared at Charles's pert, thin moustache, 'starting,' she seethed, 'with that diseased rat sitting on top of your lip'. Disgust threatened to engulf her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as her friend Charlotte had instructed her to do many times before. This helped but when she opened her eyes Charles was still there, one hand smoothing down his precious moustache and the other holding the teaspoon.

'Careful, Antigone, the wind might change, but then again you were always a rather unattractive child'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'You,' she pointed at him 'have always been an oily, untrustworthy, narcissistic blight on our family name. How dare you disapprove of me. It is only through loyalty that I have not told mother about your...your exploits.

I supported you, I protected you and for what? So, you could turn on me –

use me – I hate you, Charles, and will marry you OVER MY DEAD BODY'.

Antigone could taste bile in her mouth and teetered on the verge of fainting. The sun had fully retreated, and the room was back to its wintry half-light. Charles took out his tinted glasses and placed them on his nose.

'You are so full of nothing, Charles. You are invisible to me'.

'The grim reality for you, Antigone, is that we are to be married and thanks to Auntie's generous gift of you my dear, I am free to continue my life, unrestricted shall we say'. Charles dusted himself and in a t of what he thought to be genius said, besides your esh is hardly worth paying for'.

Antigone slumped back down onto the chair. Nothing was more depressing than the sunroom in winte ,r she thought.

'No need to be glum,' Charles reset his charming face, 'Mama said from the moment you were born that we were a perfect match. We've played together since you were a chubby babe; what could be sweeter?'

Charles stood over Antigone until she could smell his whisky breath on her face. She screwed up her nose and shut her mouth.

'I believe at this juncture we are supposed to embrace,' Charles gripped Antigone's wrist and tugged hard.

'I would rather swallow a cup of tadpoles,' she yanked her wrist free.

'As you wish,' Charles said after a long pause. 'You are only just s ixteen

as you pointed out and therefore will remain here with your sweet mother. I shall make the required nuptial visits – a few sprogs will be in order will they not?' Charles straightened his tie and forced a laugh. 'You must agree, it is our duty to ll this ramshackle pile with children'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

Antigone had stopped listening. The sound of her life falling into the abyss was deafening.

'Ignore what I said earlier my dear; you have such a charming face.

You will be the perfect adornment – those sapphire eyes!' Charles assessed Antigone as if checking off a list, 'but we must do something about that bumptious pout'. Charles's mood had shifted. He bounded energetically to the door, bored with the conversation and bored with torturing Antigone, 'see you at the altar old girl'.



The following week Nancy lay next to Antigone reading a passage from a short story by Oscar Wilde. She shut the book sharply and tossed it down, 'you don't need to hear any more of this maudlin stuff. The poor man must have suffered an awful lot, imagine thinking of life as a burden'.

Nancy tugged the pillows out from under Antigone's head and tossed them on the oor, 'or maybe he is just a spoiled devil – like someone else I know,' she said playfully.

'Not another word about bloody Oscar Wilde. Now he reminds me of Charles and Charles reminds me of death and so on and so forth'.

Antigone turned her face into the mattress and muttered, 'and I am not spoiled – I'm tortured'. She was not going to get up today, or tomorrow or the next day. Antigone's insides felt dark and damp and inside her insides was an endless hole of misery.

'Come on girl, it isn't so bad, you might like to look at the bright side,'

Nancy manhandled Antigone out of bed. The house was over owing with aunts and long-necked cousins who had taken a sudden gleeful interest in Antigone's misery. The girls could hear them caterwauling from the library.

'A bright side?' Antigone repeated cynically.

'The bright side is that you can stay here forever, with your dearest Mama,' Nancy whinnied.

'I don't have the energy for jokes'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

Nancy picked up the brush, 'and I don't know where to start on this mess'.

'Nancy ...,' Antigone's throat felt like stone. It hurt to talk.

'Yes, my lovely,' Nancy yanked at Antigone's hair but at this point, Antigone didn't care if it was ripped out strand by strand.

'Can you stay with me for a bit please,' Antigone looked up at Nancy through the mirror'.

Nancy gave her a playful clout, 'you daft mare. I'd never leave you'.

She picked up a warm blanket and wrapped Antigone up tightly. 'As long as you need me, Tiggs. As long as you need me'.



Nancy was the only one who knew that every part of Antigone hurt, even her hair. She stayed as long as she could but as soon as Cod Face found her, she was sent down to the kitchen to peel potatoes. Antigone made a mental note to have the old trout drawn and quartered as soon as she was able. In fact, Antigone had a long list of grievances that she kept tucked away in a special room inside her mind. The room was called

'Revenge' and her mother was a frequent guest. Antigone's mother had summoned her hours ago to make an appearance for the cousins, but Antigone didn't have the will to move. She lay on the bed without pillows staring blindly into the mattress.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Yoo-hoo, knock -knock, is anyone home?' Antigone's mother stood over her bed looking perplexed. Hands on hips and irritated beyond belief.

In the past few days Antigone had stopped eating, was no longer able to sleep and had not taken a bath in goodness knows how long. Antigone's mother tiptoed around the edge of the bed. The urge to feel smug that her daughter was soon to be married and thus out of her hands forever was strong, but smugness was not a modest quality in a lady. Besides, she must be cautious. Antigone was not quite married, and it was best not to count her chickens before they hatched. She had somehow though, to nd a way to shift Antigone's malaise. She could not wheel the girl down the aisle. Antigone's mother squeezed her mind for solutions and for more than a few minutes she stood over her daughter's bed utterly confounded. The only thing, she thought, that Antigone ever showed any interest in was London. A

nd with a delighted sparkle, she had solved everything.

'Shall we pop up to London, for a spot of shopping, Antigone?' her mother smoothed down the blanket. 'Yes, that is what we shall do, pop up to London - a spot of shopping and before you protest, we are going and that is my nal word on the matter'.

Antigone painfully rolled onto her back. It was sometime in the afternoon and the wan sun illuminated tiny dust motes around her mother's head. The effect was very pretty and in the bracket of silence between thoughts, which for her mother could be hours; Antigone forgot how much she loathed her. Antigone's mother sat down and patted her daughter's arm absently. Antigone wanted to yank it away but was too frightened. Any sudden movement could shatter her into a thousand pieces.

'It will be good for you, dear,' her mother said and after a long silence as though she had only just remembered where she was, 'to get out of the house'.

It took two attempts to swallow and a wobbly breath for Antigone to speak, 'thank you, Mother'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'You are looking,' Antigone's mother wrinkled her nose as if her daughter were a rotting banana, 'boyish and to be perfectly honest - a little jaundice'. She lifted a handkerchief to her nose, 'and it is a delicate matter but to be frank, you smell absolutely awful'. Antigone's mother tilted her head towards the ceiling and sniffed, 'couldn't place the smell if I tried – but at a push, I would describe it as nauseating'.

Antigone closed her eyes and blocked out her mother. She could not remember the last time she had a bath and as for smelling, she could not smell a thing. Who cared a g if she smelt? Her future was looking brighter with every missed bath.

Damn i ,t Antigone thought, it was hard holding back. She really did not want her mother to see her smile but the little bones in her ears and mouth snapped and rearranged themselves into a glorious upward curve.

The dull afternoon light took on a radiance and Antigone was sure that if she listened hard enough, a choir of angels would be singing her mother's praises. The dirty streets of London were waiting for her: Oxford Circus, The Ritz, and Harrods but most importantly, Charlotte and Jane. Antigone could nally unburden the last few miserable weeks.

In fac ,t Antigone thought, London is a very good place to get lost and Jane wil know the best hidey-holes. If the most devious and clever girls in school could not get her out of this bind, no-one could.

'Mother, you are a saviour,' Antigone scrambled out of bed awkwardly, her feet tangled in the bed sheets, 'we should take the early train tomorrow'. She stomped the sheets down and felt a wave of light-headedness.

Antigone's mother shook her head, 'these mood swings are going to be the death of me, but tomorrow it is, Antigone'. She backed towards the door. Mother and daughter time suspended for the time being. 'I'm so glad you are feeling positive about this marriage now Antigone,' she bit her lip, 'to be honest I thought you might try to wriggle out of it or worse, run away'. Antigone's mother laughed like a giddy schoolgirl and closed the door.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

Nancy waited until Lady Fils de Finch was out of sight before bursting in wide-eyed and ushed, 'I'm getting your trunk down right now, it's time to escape'.

'The opposite, Nance'.

'You what the opposite?' Nancy looked at Antigone sideways. Perhaps she has lost her mind - just a bi ,t Nancy thought.

'Well maybe not the opposite but don't pack much, just the essentials – underwear, night attire, and one dress'.

Poor Nancy looked horri ed. Never in her life had she sent Antigone off to London without a full wardrobe. She opened the cupboard and pulled out a velvet gown. It was the colour of ripe plums, 'how about this one? My favourite'. Nancy touched the soft fabric to her face.

'You have it, Nancy. I never want to see it again'.

'Alright, keep your boots on, how about this one, I know it's sentimental for ya,' Nancy grinned pulling out the yellow monster.

Antigone tugged the dress out of Nancy's hands and stuffed it under the bed, 'you are pure mischief'.

Nancy's face slackened, 'you are acting strange, Tiggs. Tell me everything will be alright?'

'I'm not sure what's going to happen, Nancy, but I can tell you this much, I will never step foot in this house again and yes, I will be alright. I will be better than alright. I will be free'.

'Don't say that, Tiggs,' Nancy pleaded. Her face paled and Antigone could clearly see last summer's freckles dotted across the bridge of her nose.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Why not? There is nothing here for me, I am not going to be a trophy to some awful cousin that prefers his own re ection to anything else in the world. I don't want that. I refuse to let that happen'.

'I don't want that for you either, but you can't just run away, what will you do? Where will you go?' Nancy ploughed on, 'what will you do for money?'

Nancy was right. Antigone had no money of her own. She had no idea how she would survive. But right now, Antigone's instincts told her that this was her opportunity to run. She looked around the room, 'in the box, Nance, the pearls, pack them for me will you'.

Nancy looked grief-stricken. She fumbled with the jewellery box and took out a few pieces. 'What about this? Worth anything?'

'I will take them both but, Nancy, please, I trust myself and you have to trust me too'. Antigone caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She had lost weight and didn't look much more than a child. Albeit a child escaped from a lunatic asylum but inside she felt older and stronger, 'I know I can do it, Nancy. I know I can'.

Nancy wrung her hands, 'don't scare me. I'll be dead-set worried about you every minute of every day'.

'Come on, Nancy, you know me. I'm clever enough. Like you said before, I just need time to get a plan together'. Antigone took Nancy's rough hands, 'why don't you come with me? We could do this together.

Out on the road, under the stars'

Nancy took a step back, 'don't say such a thing'.

'I'm joking about under the stars, but as for everything else, why not?

What harm will come from trying something new?'

'I am not ready for something so big, so grand. Maybe one day, Tigg,'

Nancy shook her head, 'one day I will be ready, just not yet'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

Antigone and Nancy stood hand in hand looking at each other. Each girl wrapped in her own thoughts.

Antigone eventually broke the spell, 'alright, I know it's a bit rushed but when I am settled, I can write to you, I can send you money and wherever I am in the world you can join me. How does that sound? Have we got a deal?'

Nancy grinned, guffawed, and then spat on her hand, 'shake on it like a man, and we have a deal'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

## CHAPTER THREE

### CHARLOTTE & JANE

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'One of Papa's ships is leaving for Bombay tomorrow,' Charlotte glanced around to see if anyone was eavesdropping. 'He is being very mysterious. According to Mama, he is carrying someone or something top-secret'.

Jane snorted, 'not that top-secret if your mother knows'. She tucked a curl behind her ear and icked a few crumbs off her chin. She had already nished most of the cucumber sandwiches.

Antigone followed Charlotte's gaze. She was grateful to see that the place was empty except for the ancient Earl of Caithness who dozed by the re. The girls sat at their usual table in the Fantasy Dining Room of the Clairborne. The walls were papered in royal purple and hand-painted emerald peacocks. Paintings of amboyant goddesses and naked cherubs hung in brassy, over-sized frames. Urns of peacock feathers balanced on plinths of golden ivy and extravagant crystal chandeliers in the shape of death lilies cast a dreamy glow—

'I wonder if it is a dangerous criminal being escorted back to India.

Could be a murderer or a foreign spy?'

'Top-secret! Nonsense,' Jane scoffed. 'I hardly think top-secret translates to a blood and thunder mystery'. Jane dusted off her hands.

She had an angular face framed by dark unyielding curls. Unlike her friends, Jane's skin was an exotic, dusky shade. She was a remarkable looking girl, but her true outstanding quality was her mind.

'Stop being perverse, Jane! I can promise you that it's all very hush-hush so something exciting or dangerous is bound to happen, I wouldn't be surprised if we read about it in the newspapers,' Charlotte sunk her glass of sugary pink lemonade in one fell swoop. Nothing Charlotte did, looked out of place, awkward or rude. She oozed poise and was quite at home in a velvety decadent dining room as much as a Japanese bathhouse.

'If it is such a secret, why are you telling us?' Jane popped the last sandwich into her mouth.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'For Antigone, you dimwit! It is one of Papa's most glamorous ships.

Naturally, Tiggs will have to travel incognito. Second-class to be safe, but I am sure it will be comfortable enough for a young and adventurous girl such as yourself,' Charlotte gave Antigone a wink. Antigone had taken a large sip of lemonade and a stream of pink bubbles ew out of her nose.

'I do believe Charlotte has decided upon India. It is a clever choice. If you think about it; India is a British Colony, not completely foreign so at least you could speak English in places, it will have English medical people and hotels. Give you a bit of time to get your bearings and then you can go and explore the darkest jungles and the hottest, sandiest beaches to your heart's content'.

'Don't get too carried away, Jane,' Charlotte said in her hard-boiled tone, 'there are so many things we have to think about rst'. Antigone sat motionlessly but her mind was spinning. She supposed India was the best choice. Jane had ruled out Australia, which was crawling with nasty spiders, New Guinea where Antigone might be eaten by cannibals, and South America which would be downright uncomfortable. It was clear that India was the perfect balance of dangerous, uncomfortable and heaving with venomous insects.

Antigone looked up, 'surely you don't mean for me to actually leave England tomorrow?'

'Oh, you've decided to join the conversation,' Jane raised her eyebrows.

'Antigone, darling don't excite yourself; your face has turned the ghastliest shade of green'. Charlotte could be both brutal and ippant at times but today Antigone didn't care. Green or not, she was going to India and her heart somersaulted.

'But – but how will I organise myself in time?' Antigone turned her attention to Jane, 'there must be a mountain of things I need to do, and I have no ipping idea where to start – or how'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

For the rst time in her life, Antigone would have to think about money. Up until now, she had shop accounts all over town, a little pocket money and absolutely no experience with bankers. Women had no access to bank accounts and no income of their own. It seemed impossible for her to nd the funds she needed. Antigone's eyes prickled with tears, and the stupid corset pinched. She could not get enough oxygen into her lungs.

'She's green again,' Charlotte tilted her head to the side and wiggled her nose.

'What's happening to her?' Jane asked atly.

'Think she is having an attack of the nerves,' Charlotte kicked Antigone in the chins. 'Lady Antigone Fils de Finch, pull yourself together right now'.

'Ow, Charlotte, you're brutal!'

'Unless you want to be Lady Charles Fils de Finch,' Charlotte barked,

'snap out of it'.

'We need a plan,' Jane rubbed her hands together.

'We do, we need a plan,' Antigone looked hopefully at Jane.

'I can organise a one-way ticket to Bombay on The Empress of India and Jane, you must put your mind to money,' Charlotte smiled broadly as if these two tasks were a piece of cake.

Jane weighed up the tasks, 'Tiggy and I will need three hours'.

Charlotte crushed a chocolate-coated cherry between her teeth, 'I assume we can't use your real name'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

Antigone was still struggling for breath, but the thought of a new name was daunting, she liked her name. It was an ancient Greek name and quirky. In fact, the rst Antigone was sealed in a cave for defying her parents—

'Absolutely not. It took me an age to get used to it. Remember? I hated the way mother only used to screech; AN-TIG-A-NEE. Still makes me shiver but I've earned it'.

Jane frowned and nodded, 'what about a second name then? And a third?'

'This is the fun part. My rst suggestion is Zenobia. It has the ring of an African princess,' Charlotte wiggled her eyebrows.

'You must be joking? Zenobia was a ruthless cow. Be serious we don't have all day,' Jane prickled.

'No time really,' Antigone felt herself plunged into a pool of panic again.

'Do you remember that English class where we had to write a poem choosing words randomly from a pile,' Jane signalled to the waiter to bring pencils and paper.

'Wasn't it something like,' Charlotte began—

'A perfectly presented kitten waltzed in the moonlight ...'

'Like a lazy piranha – yes – yes – but that is not my point' Jane did not appreciate being interrupted. Her mother often said that Jane was born startled and impatient. Her mother also warned Jane that she would be alone in the world if she didn't learn to accept the mechanisms of other people's minds. And, that intelligence was not de ned by smartness alone. So, either unconsciously or consciously, she taught herself patience– for at least the rst few hours of a day.

'That was fun,' Antigone smiled weakly.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'It was fun, but I am not suggesting that we discuss it. I suggest that we do it again – now. Write down our favourite words, names, anything really; pick out a middle and last name. From there Antigone will be brand new,' Jane itched to get started.

The girls tore up the collection of names and placed them in the centre of the table. With her eyes closed, Antigone plucked out her new identity from the pile.

'For heaven's sake, I can't believe you chose my name,' Charlotte uttered astonished.

Antigone ri ed around the last of the scraps and pulled out Finch, 'I like this, it is me, but not me'.

Charlotte tapped her glass with a knife, 'in the name of freedom, adventure and, King Edward VII, I hereby rechristen you, Antigone Zenobia Finch. Friend to all, and wife to no man,' Charlotte raised her glass and gulped the last of her lemonade. Jane ate Charlotte's last chocolate cherry and Antigone sat back in her chair and closed her eyes. She let the name seep into her bones like a hot bath.

'I adore it,' Antigone grinned.

'Good, I'm glad,' Jane turned to Charlotte, 'you settle the bill and I will take Tiggs to the bank'.

Charlotte rolled her eyes, 'why do I always get landed with the bill?'

'Because dearest, you come from money'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

## CHAPTER FOUR

### BANG UP THE ELEPHANT

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

For a eeting and euphoric moment, between Clairborne and Westminster Bank which took precisely thirteen minutes, the newly christened Antigone Zenobia Finch rode on a wave of euphoria. The colours of London glowed bright and the winter sun glinted off puddles in happy rainbows. Even Jane who usually walked at determined pace with her eyes xed carefully on a spot in front of her, where she would not have to make eye contact with anyone, ever, was almost friendly-looking.

Jane and Antigone hurried around the corner of Berkeley Square and stopped dead in their tracks. Towering over them, at the top of steep stone steps, was a problem.

'Ladies,' the poker-faced problem grunted. 'What can I do you for?

The security guard crossed his beefy arms awkwardly over his stomach. His face seemed like a far distant boulder sitting atop a round mound of jelly. Jane took a deep breath and walked up the rst two steps.

A debonair jacket that would have been suited to a young army of cer, strained at the stitching. On the security guard it looked like an ill-tting carnival costume. If he were not so menacing, Jane might have felt sorry for him. She tilted her head this way and that trying to see past him.

'Oh, blast it,' Jane said under her breath. Two menacing gargoyles stared down from high plinths next to the door.

'What?'

Jane gestured to the gargoyles, 'I don't know who is worse: them or him'.

'We should go,' Antigone hissed.

'Maybe I should rephrase that in case you ladies didn't understand me rst time round. May I be of assistance to you – Madams?'.

Antigone felt her friend's body tighten, ready to pounce.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'We shall see about that,' Jane marched up the stairs expecting the guard to step courteously step aside, but he stood his ground.

'Your tone is impertinent and unacceptable, making it impossible to answer you without rst speaking with your superior'.

The tobacco stained moustache on the now unfortunate fellow's lip twitched.

'Your name,' Jane pressed.

'Wha ...'

'Oh, for heaven's sake just do your job and open the door – that IS

your job isn't it?' Jane's bravado worked. The guard, stripped of his dignity by a sixteen-year-old girl, begrudgingly opened the door.

'In you go my dear,' Jane pushed Antigone through the doors and into the hall.

'It's either this or home to Charles, your choice'.

'I hate you,' Antigone growled.

'And I love you, now come on'. The vaulted ceilings of the hall echoed with their footsteps. Gold columns carved with twisted vines created an avenue of surreal trees designed, Antigone thought, to intimidate them.

The girls continued down a dim marble corridor. Portraits of pompous, over important men loomed over them. Antigone felt foreboding, but Jane seemed unruf ed. Jane was positively delighted with herself.

'Just breathe, Tiggs – breathe,' Jane coached, 'and be haughty, remember these grumpy old men are just silly boys and silly boys are extremely easy to manipulate! If you feel ustered, imagine them as children hiding behind their mothers' skirts. That should make it easier for you'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

Jane's mother warned her never to take a man too seriously. Her mother said that men honestly believe that they are intellectually superior to women which is why they feel it is their God-given right to control every aspect of their wife and daughter's lives. Naturally, Jane's mother wears the trousers in the family, but she says, in fact, all women wear the trousers, but men are too stupid to realise. Jane says that this is mostly true but there are plenty of stupid women too. Right now, Antigone was wondering if they were two of the most stupid girls in London.

After what felt like an eternity, the girls reached the gold-gilded podiums on which the stacks of papers, pens and ill-tempered, old men were perched.

'Good afternoon, Sir,' Jane waited for the man to look up. It seemed that he was deliberately ignoring them, so she barrelled on. 'My dear friend, Lady Fils de Finch, is preparing for her wedding. Her mother, Lady Margaret Fils de Finch, requires two thousand pounds to be delivered to the Ritz – today. Strictly cash. Discrete as possible. Do you understand?'

Jane didn't bother to wait for a reply, 'Lady Antigone will meet your man in the Ladies Lounge at one pm sharp. That gives you just under an hour to organise the transfer. As I mentioned, it is of utmost importance that you act with discretion. We do not want the gossip columns to report on any element of the preparations until the wedding day. I am sure you understand. For now, Lady Antigone will also require a sum of three hundred pounds for various small purchases'. Jane smiled an ef cient, quick smile and rapped her knuckles on the counter.

The banker was bamboozled. He looked as though he were going to call on someone else to help.

'Do be prompt, Mr ...'

'Mr. Tumby, Madam,' the banker wiped a bead of perspiration off his nose. He would be in a great amount of trouble when Antigone's father got wind of the situation. Antigone sti ed guilt. She would deal with it later.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Mr. Tumby, I have appointments at this very moment, would you mind awfully ...,' somehow, Antigone was not able to nish her sentence.

Mr. Tumby's mouth sagged open, and she could see into the vast brown gaps between his teeth, 'hurrying'.

'Of course, Lady Fils de Finch,' Mr. Tumby bowed and trotted away to another set of vast oak doors.

'Did you see his eyes?' Jane whispered.

'Too busy trying to avoid whatever was lurking in his mouth'.

'His eye twitched, do you think he suspects?' Jane's face had turned pink and her eyes were solidly focused on the exit.

'You're being pretty casual if you think he is going to turn us in'.

'If Tumby doesn't return in one-minute at, we are leaving,' Jane hoisted her skirts ready to ee but just as she was steeling herself for another battle, Mr. Tumby reappeared with a thick, yellow envelope.

'Just a few loose ends to tie up,' Mr. Tumby shuf ed the papers signi cantly, 'sign here Madam and you are free to attend to your day'.

Antigone Zenobia Finch signed her new name on three separate parchments. Folded three hundred pounds into her purse and left Mr.

Tumby in a state of unease.

The girls whose palms sweated and shook, dove into the usual Berkeley Square throng of wealthy shoppers, politicians, and bankers. The Square swallowed them up into anonymity, but Jane's heart was racing, and she didn't quite trust Antigone to behave herself.

'Behave naturally,' Jane said behind her hand. She contorted her mouth into a relaxed smile. Well, it resembled a smile. If Antigone was honest; Jane looked a little deranged. But who was to care; they had pulled off a bank heist. One last stop and Antigone would be independent and carefree.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

The bank manager at Newark Modern Bank asked no questions.

Newark was a merchant's bank where money did the talking, so Antigone and Jane were dispatched with cheque books, English Pounds, and a unique bank account number. Antigone would be able to access this bank account from anywhere in the world just by using her private number. It was miraculous.

'I am so proud of you, Antigone Zenobia Finch, you're doing this for all of us,' Jane was almost skipping with joy as they left the Newark Bank.

'Well for me anyway, I think Charlotte will marry Frank Westminster'.

'Can we stick with Tiggs for the time being, I haven't quite grown into Antigone Zenobia Finch yet'.

'No, no, no. Look, I want you to know that this adventure is not just about escaping Charles or your mother,' Jane stopped walking. The girls were a little island in a busy stream of shoppers and Antigone didn't like it.

She predicted an interlude of Jane's sermonizing rushing in like a tidal wave.

'Not sure where you are going with this, Jane, but let us hear it,'

Antigone thought she might as well face the music now, like a quick cut of the guillotine – provided it was sharp. Antigone looked around, 'actually, this isn't the time or place to become philosophical, political or even . .'

'Don't be absurd, I am not getting political or emotional but if push came to shove, I would describe myself as proud'.

'Pardon?'

'Have you got any inkling what you just achieved?' Jane demanded loudly.

'Are you quite alright?'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'What you did and what you are about to do is every girls' dearest wish. To be able to make one's own choices, to have the opportunity to travel, to have independent means, to choose whether to marry or not to marry,' people were slowing down and blatantly staring at her.

'Um, Jane'.

'Basic civil liberty, Antigone, that is what I am talking about'. By now she had amassed a diverse crowd of onlookers. And they were not shy.

'You mean the right to vote, don't ya love?' asked a burly shwife. She stank to high heaven and had teeth the colour of spring grass, but Jane took a step towards her as though she had found her long-lost friend.

'That's right,' Jane agreed brightly. She was not nervous about attracting a crowd. The woman's mother or perhaps it was her daughter; they looked similar except for the degree of dirt coating their wrinkles said—

'Fighting for the rights of women are ya?'

'I hadn't thought about it to be honest,' Antigone had not contemplated herself inspiring or ghting anyone, but she imagined it could be fun.

Until now, the day had been all about Antigone. She was comfortable with that. It was always about her. But this proud, dirty woman suddenly made her feel ashamed. A hot, red blush painted her cheeks. The woman waited for Antigone to speak and would not be deprived of an answer.

She turned her clever eyes to Jane—

'You then?'

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

As though Jane had been quietly growing like a butter y in a cocoon, she emerged – an anarchist, a radical, perhaps even a communist.

She knew it in her bones. She would ght for the independence of women, ght for equal rights, ght to vote. Her instinct to ght was irrevocably awakened. Helping Antigone to escape marriage had triggered a profound hunger for social justice. Jane lifted her pointy chin—

'My name is Jane, and one day I want to make big changes for women. For all class of women, but for now, take a good long look at my friend's face. This is Antigone Zenobia Finch. She does not know it yet, but she is going to change everything. Just you wait and see,' Jane's face took on a radiance that wiped away Antigone's shame. In one fell swoop, Antigone was more than a girl just running away, more than a rich girl in a pretty dress. She was worthy and going to change everything; whatever that was. Jane still had to tell her.

'Say some ng then, Antigone Finch, give uz some ng to 'ope for,' a little voice chimed in. Antigone looked down and there was a girl, much younger than herself, half worn to the bone but with a re in her eyes that made Antigone realise how ignorant of the world she really was—

'What's your name?'

'Millicent, but me mum calls me, Milly,' the little girl spoke straight and con dent.

'Well, Miss Millicent, see those clodhoppers over there?' Antigone nodded toward a group of men leaning against the bridge. They looked to all and sundry like they hadn't a care in the world, 'look at them not working, expecting their dinner to be on the table when they get home and an obedient wife to fetch them coal and hot water'.

Milly giggled, 'that's me dad over there'.

'Right ole, saucer he is too,' her mum chimed in.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'And look at those ones,' Antigone nodded to the self-important men talking but not listening at the coffee cart.

'I intend to give them all a good kick up the arse'.

Jane gasped and Milly whooped with laughter.

Milly's mother winked at Antigone, 'right bang up the elephant and all'.

After Antigone and Jane had turned the corner, Antigone jabbed Jane in the ribs—

'That was so fun'.

'So fun and so exciting,' Jane grinned.

'But what is bang up the elephan ?

t '

Jane glanced sideways at her friend, 'I will tell you, but you have to swear not to tell Charlotte that I know'.

'Hand on heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye'.

'It means top-notch, wonderful – sort of like agreeing in a positive way. Do you like it?'

'Not only do I love it, I am going to use it'.

Jane turned to her dear friend. She wanted to remember this day. To sear it into her memory. She was sixteen and so was Antigone. One day they would be old but not without having squeezed the marrow out of life. As they gazed at each other, they knew they were on the brink of something marvellous. Jane thought she might study medicine and become a doctor for women. Maybe she even study abroad, in Italy or France. Antigone just looked at her friend; her secret yearning for something more, was quite suddenly, not so bad, 'Bang up the elephant'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Yes,' said Jane, 'bang up the elephant and all'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

## CHAPTER FIVE

### WHISTLE & FLUTE

By mid-afternoon, Charlotte, Jane and Antigone were being jostled by commuters on the Brixton Hill Cable Tram. The tramcar was full to bursting and never had the girls been in such proximity to men that were not their brothers, fathers, cousins or friends. Jane was pragmatic as usual; pointedly staring out of the window, rigid as a tree stump while Antigone hovered close to hysteria. There was a particularly good reason for this.

Charlotte, the lucky devil, was squished against the most striking gentleman Antigone had ever seen. He towered above Charlotte and his dark hair which was coiled into a neat knot at the top of his head, grazed the tram ceiling. Charlotte caught Antigone's eye and scowled.

'What,' Antigone mouthed.

'Stop staring,' Charlotte mouthed back. Antigone rolled her eyes but did as she was told. It was dif cult for the girls to stay stable. The tramcar rattled in every direction pulling them this way and that. From time to time Antigone caught an exotic scent of cardamom and jasmine. It was all too much for her. She had to sneak another look at him. She lifted her gaze, but a gangly girl had stepped between herself and the exotic foreigner, hands on her hips—

'You alrigh?' the girl said boldly.

'I...b...b...beg your pardon,' Antigone stammered.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Didn't no-one teach you that its rude to stare'. The girl was being positively aggressive.

Antigone tried to take a backward step but was hemmed in by the other commuters.

'It's quite all right, I am complimented. At home, I am little more than ignored,' the tall gentleman said with a soft accent that melted his words.

Antigone met his eyes and wished the oor would swallow her up.

'Excuse my friend, Sir, she's had a demanding day,' Charlotte reached back, as much as her corset would allow and dug her ngernails into Antigone's arm.

'Do you mind, Charlotte, I am perfectly well,' Antigone slapped Charlotte's hand away.

The gangly girl's wild head of hair blocked Charlotte from Antigone's sight, so she was spared the infamous death stare. Antigone oundered, trying to think of something to say that would redeem her dignity but with exquisite timing, the tram came to a shuddering halt at Brixton Junction.

'We're not in Chelsea anymore, girls,' Charlotte's eyes looked like they were about to burst, 'is this what you call the slums – I've read all about them'.

'Do shut up, Charlotte, if someone hears, you'll get us into trouble,'

Jane snapped.

'No need to be sensitive, Jane,' Charlotte bristled. Usually, this much time together was enough for one day. The girls would typically slope off to various corners of the school to repair their friendship. Right now, though, it was on a knife-edge. Either they needed a hot cup of tea or a large diversion before Charlotte and Jane began stripping shreds off one another.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'All I am saying is to be careful no-one hears you refer to their home as the slums,' Jane folded her arms crossly.

Charlotte ignored her and openly gaped at the new sights and sounds of Brixton.

'I agree with Jane, stop staring, but oh my goodness, look at those girls,' Antigone nodded toward a couple of girls around fteen years old.

One girl was scantily dressed and the other looked ready for a ght. They both looked cold.

'Oh, I say they are rather - um,' Charlotte stiffened 'oh dear, pretend to show me something,' she said suddenly fascinated by something in the far distance. The half-dressed one meandered toward the three girls.

Antigone didn't think she posed a threat, she was a scrap of a thing, and looked about to collapse; the other just had an unfortunate expression.

Both were smeared in soot and one did not even have shoes. Antigone glanced at Jane and she looked thoroughly discombobulated.

'If this isn't the slums, I'll eat my hat,' Charlotte said behind her hand.

'Shut up,' Jane and Antigone said in unison.

It was rare for Jane to open her purse. Normally it was empty. She dug in and scraped out a few coins. Jane hurried over to the girls who were now loitering hopefully at a pie cart, 'I'm so sorry,' Jane said, 'I wish I had more'.

The small girl put out her hand disbelievingly. The other smiled widely, lifted her skirts and curtsied to Jane, 'God bless you, lady'. Charlotte who had gotten over her terror added her own pile of coins to the girl's hand and steered Jane away.

'Thanks, Charlotte,' Jane said gratefully, 'that was kind of you'.

'Nonsense, the poor girls were starving,' Charlotte patted Jane's hand.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

Brixton was by no means a slum, but there were plenty of folks who needed a decent meal and a hot bath. Antigone had heard about slums, putrid sewers, and rats as large as dogs. She had heard stories about grotesque murders and people selling their hair and teeth for a few coins, but she had not heard of this in-between place. And it was in between.

For a start, there was much more hustle and bustle in Brixton than Regent Street. It was teeming with life; street vendors, public drinking houses, bookshops, and pawnbrokers. People rushed about with purpose.

Everyone from the whole of London seemed to have converged on Brixton right at this moment. Even the smell was busy. Cologne, sausages sizzling, sewage gas rising from the grates. Layered over this were tar smoke, horse dung, and coal. Antigone inhaled deeply—

'Smell that, girls?' she lifted her chin, 'that is the smell of adventure'.

'That is a polite way to describe it,' Charlotte said, 'but look Antigone here we are, The Bon Marche'. Charlotte's eyes lingered on bright large posters across the road which advertised everything from evening gowns to hair cream. Antigone glanced back at the empty tram track that disappeared over Brixton Hill; typica ,l she thought, just as I am leaving.

Jane followed her gaze—

'He was lovely'.

'He was so lovely,' Antigone agreed, 'but that girl was crackers'.

'Bonkers,' Jane agreed.

'Time is shopping girls, and we are losing valuable time,' Charlotte giggled.

'Gosh,' Jane gasped, 'private undergarments on display for all the world to see,' she turned in slow circles not comprehending. There were racks of bloomers, glass cases of stockings and garter belts. Displays of face lotions and potions, perfumes and hair oils.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Imagine our future husbands shopping for our undergarments,'

Charlotte led the girls through the crowd, 'we shall see men on the moon next'.

'Are you sure you haven't been here before?' Antigone asked.

Charlotte was suspiciously comfortable.

'Duck to water, Tiggy old chum, duck - to - water,' Charlotte laughed coming to a standstill in front of a corset display. Antigone shuddered.

Even seeing them imprisoned under glass gave her the shivers.

'May I help you, Madam?' a pleasant, round-faced girl asked.

'Yes, thank you,' Charlotte began, 'would you explain how this corset works, it is most peculiar'.

'That's because it's got elastic around the sides instead of the usual whalebone,' the girl said matter-of-factly. Charlotte looked baf ed.

'It means you can easily bend from side to side,' the girl added.

Charlotte continued staring dumbly.

'It's practical for working'.

It was going to be an uphill battle explaining what work was to Charlotte.

'Say if you are bending over all day, lifting a baby, or doing the washing, you won't have a nasty bone digging into your ribs,' the girl demonstrated bending.

'Not sure I follow,' Charlotte made a limp attempt to bend from side to side.

'Maybe if you were riding a bicycle ...'

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'That will never happen I can assure you,' Charlotte was getting addled. Jane, Antigone, and the shop girl were nding it increasingly dif cult to sti e their giggles.

'Well just stretching from side to side for exercise,' the girl suggested.

'Like this?' Charlotte attempted another feeble bend.

'No,' the girl said resolutely, 'like this'. Not only could she bend from side to side, she could touch her toes and stretch her arms up to the sky.

'I want them. I want all of them,' Charlotte beamed.

'Planning on some manual labour?' Jane asked tartly.

'Well, you can count me out, corsets are the last thing I want on my body thank you very much,' Antigone wriggled under the whale bones holding her ribs tightly. 'Actually, would you direct us to the gentleman's clothing department please'.

'That I can do,' the girl swept her arm grandly to the mahogany staircase that conjoined the rst and second oor in an elegant curve.

Jane and Charlotte exchanged looks.

'Don't worry, girls, I have an idea'.

Unlike downstairs, gentleman's wear was empty. Racks of sporting garments lined the left wall, and directly above them, was a bright painting of trout shermen casting lines. Hats also adorned the left wall and by way of merchandising, the staff had out tted a dressmakers'

mannequin in plus fours, vest and a straw hat.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

The girls moved as a school of sh, anticipating each other's steps and for the rst time in years, Charlotte was silent. Antigone knew precisely what she was thinking. If they were discovered in a men's store it would be a tabloid scandal. It would be newsworthy. It would be in the paper tomorrow. Antigone would not get into trouble because she was shipping out. It was Charlotte that she was concerned about. Being found here could destroy her reputation and make her an accomplice to Antigone's escape. It was too risky.

'Jane, take Charlotte back downstairs and for Heaven's sake try to blend in. I'll meet you shortly,' Antigone whispered. It took Jane a split second to reach the bottom of the staircase with Charlotte in tow and they wasted no time merging into the crowd.

Antigone cast her eye around the room as discreetly as possible and xed on one of the younger clerks. The poor boy had nasty red blotches across his chin and dry, aking patches on his cheeks. Antigone supposed it was painful, wonder if he is contagious

? She chewed her lip and

suppressed the urge to turn away.

'Madam, may I be of assistance?' the young man stuttered. He was so nervous and sweet that Antigone felt a wave of shame for having judged him so quickly.

'Yes, yes please'. Antigone paused awkwardly. She had never done this before and had no idea what to say. The young man looked at her shyly —

'Will madam be requiring clothing for a gentleman - her size?'

'Yes, yes please,' Antigone squeaked.

'For warm or cool weather, Madam?' he asked gaining con dence.

'Hot, very hot and cool and maybe cold; oh, I am not sure, but to begin with something that will be for a hot climate'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Would you like the whole whistle and ute?' he gestured towards a rack of suits.

'Did you just say whistle and ute?'

'Yes, Madam. Whistle and ute – suit,' he grinned. Two deep dimples popped into his cheeks.

'How can I go past a whistle and ute? Of course, I want one; perhaps something in linen'.

'Good choice, noticeably light and easy to breathe in the heat,' he took a suit off the rack. It was beige and nicely tailored. 'Might I also suggest a hat. This straw derby is popular'.

Antigone put it on her head and looked in the mirror, 'I love it'.

'And before I forget,' the young man turned and opened a shallow mahogany draw 'you will need suspenders to keep up your trousers'. He took out an elasticised pair of braces that crossed over at the back and buttoned onto the insides of the trousers. Thankfully, Antigone had been in the kitchen when Cod-Face was sewing her father's trousers, or else she would have had no idea how to attach everything.

'Finally, you require a short-waisted vest, they are incredibly good at hiding ...' he coughed and blushed, 'hiding protuberances'.

'Pardon?' Antigone screwed up her nose, perplexed.

'Protuberances,' a minute scuff on his left shoe became immensely fascinating.

'I'm not with you at all,' Antigone followed the direction of his gaze, thinking a protuberance had something to do with his shoe.

'You know, b - b - bulges.

'What bulges?' Antigone was losing patience.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Madam, please don't make me say it,' the young man lifted his gaze.

'Say what? Oh, just spit it out'.

'Alright,' the young man squared his shoulders, 'bosoms, Madam, them things,' he pointed to Antigone's chest and rapidly steered his attention back to his shoes.

The episode left Antigone feeling so awkward that she left the poor boy with a full pound tip. She hurried down the stairs with a fat parcel tucked under her arm but as soon as she merged back into the throng of ladies, a fresh wave of excitement tickled her skin. Quick as a rabbit she had two cotton dresses, plain camisoles, and crisp cotton petticoats wrapped in brown paper and tied with string. She could not wait to throw her corset off the side of the ship. The sharks could have it for all she cared, I'd love to cut my hair and throw it overboard too, it wil be a curse trying to comb it out in the heat, s

he thought.

Jane and Charlotte had gone missing and Antigone suspected they were blissfully engaged in choosing a farewell gift. Antigone hoped it would be something useful. It needed to be both small and practical. As always Jane had the upper hand in winning arguments so rather than a silver miniature of Buckingham Palace (Charlotte's choice), they decided on a small Brownie camera.

'I adore it, girls,' Antigone looked through the lens.

'You must promise to send plenty of photographs?' Jane said.

'Cross my heart,' Antigone closed the camera case and slung it over her shoulder.



A few hours later, back in their own stomping ground, Charlotte was either getting tired, morbid or both. She pouted, dragged her feet and in true Charlotte fashion, was considering a tantrum.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Come on, Charlotte,' said Jane, trotting ahead. 'We've pretty much everything organised'.

Silence.

'Chop-chop,' Jane clapped her hands sharply. Her rst mistake.

'For heaven's sake, please don't tell me you are going to have a Charlotte Momen

t right here on the street,' Jane ung her hands onto her hips and squared her body to meet Charlotte, head-on. Antigone held her breath. And then another breath. Charlotte was gathering invisible forces and the air grew electric.

'Don't be condescending, Jane,' Charlotte thundered. But mostly it was hot air that swiftly evaporated into a trembling lip, 'I'm not having a moment, I'm missing Tiggs already, our Tiggy, our Antigone - already'.

'Good grief, she hasn't died; she is going away for a short -,' Jane snapped.

'Long,' Charlotte interjected.

'Fine, longish, adventure, which we shall share via the Brownie,' Jane tugged at the camera strap over Antigone's shoulder.

'And believe it or not,' Antigone said juggling the parcels to one side so she could hug Charlotte, 'I know how to write words on paper to make sentences'.

'And even stranger, Charlotte knows how to read words that make sentences,' Jane grinned. Antigone nudged her. The mood shifted and Charlotte deemed it tting to divest a parcel from Jane. Jane raised an eyebrow but allowed Charlotte to take it.

'And strangely, I am acquainted with the Bureau de Poste,' French was Antigone's best language.

'O cina de Correos,' Jane added in Spanish.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'De Postkontoret,' Charlotte sauntered in front of Jane. Some of the streetlights were already blazing.

'Show off,' Jane's lips pursed together, what language is that anyway?'

'Just a little something I picked up in the Alps,' Charlotte said from in front. The friendship between the girls was a delicate balance and Antigone's job was to keep Charlotte and Jane from tearing each other apart, hair by hair.

'How will you girls survive without me? Promise you won't murder each other while I am away,' Antigone clutched Charlotte's arm and spun her around for a hug while wrangling Jane into it as well. The girls were stopped, with all their shopping, in the middle of Oxford Circus at dusk amongst many tired and cranky workers jostling to get past. True to form, Jane turned to ice. Public speaking about her newly formed opinions on women's right to vote was one thing, and public displays of affection were quite another; she stiffened. But Charlotte, who was in perpetual denial that she a softie, sobbed.

'Alrigh' now ladies, wipe away them tears; I want to try on me new whistle n ute,' Antigone mustered up a Cockney accent.

'I beg your pardon,' Charlotte regained her composure.

'Her whistle and ute, her suit of course,' Jane rolled her eyes.

'Some of us don't have Cockney relatives, Jane,' Charlotte said primly.

'Gawad blimey, I was just going to invite yous lovely ladies to av' a photograph taken with me, in me new whistle n ute,' Antigone pretended to doff her cap.

'Why, you is forward Mr. Finch,' Jane challenged. She was surprisingly good at Cockney. Maybe Charlotte was right, and she did have cockney cousins.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'No need to be shy ladies, call me Tigg'.

Young Mr. Woodbridge and the girls laughed mercilessly when Antigone stepped from behind the red-lacquered Chinese screen. She hadn't anticipated how easy it would be to dress. She just pulled the trousers up over her bloomers and petticoat and buckled the belt.

'You are a handsome devil,' Charlotte winked.

'I believe you need to attend to your ys,' Mr. Woodbridge's cheeks glowed happily from Jane's many curious questions.

'What?'

'Your yes silly,' Jane buttoned up the gaping hole in the front of Antigone's trousers.

'You will need to take off those bloomers,' Mr. Woodbridge laughed,

'you have a derriere the size of England'.

'Merci beaucoup monsieur,' Antigone curtsied. 'I just can't believe it takes men two minutes to dress, and us half an hour. Imagine if we dress twice in one day, just dressing mind you, not undressing. That would be seven hours per week. Then forty-nine hours per month and two thousand, ve hundred and forty-eight hours per year!' Antigone sauntered across the shop with her hips forward, in what she thought was a masculine way to walk. Jane laughed but not too much—

'Well let us not waste time. We should get started with the photography,' she nodded at Mr. Woodbridge who was standing ready with ash in hand.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

Mr. Woodbridge began with one photograph of Antigone in her ne new waistcoat. Then it was time for the girls to have a photograph together. They laughed their way through the ashbulb going off, but Antigone could feel an undercurrent of heaviness as the gravity of what she was about to do, hit them. Their last photograph was very solemn, but it was the one they preferred. Mr. Woodbridge kindly printed a set for all three girls while they sipped tea from chipped cups.

'We are not going to see each other for a long time,' Jane slipped the photograph in her purse with a trembling hand. Inside she felt as though a sweet, new secret hovered just out of reach. A new something. If Jane was Charlotte, she would have known, instantly, what the warm ush of heat and eruptions of miniature volcanoes in her chest meant. Mr.

Woodbridge had written a message on the back of Jane's photograph: It was a true joy to m t you today, Miss Jane.

I would be delighted to discuss photography fur er.

We could take a coff .

J W

'It's time we get back ... to school l ... before we're expelled too,'

Charlotte tried to be funny, but it was just sad. It had been a long day and their nerves were frayed. None of the girls fancied a long farewell so it was a short, forceful hug from Jane and a teary kiss from Charlotte.

Charlotte and Jane turned their backs and hurried off to school where Miss Hornwhistle would scold them for being so late. Antigone watched her friends disappear down the street and was seized with sadness. Soon she would be completely alone. She clutched her parcels and remembered her grandmother's voice of doom; never mind if things look glum, you always know there is worse to come. But there was not worse to come, only better. In a few short hours, Charles would discover that his ancée had vanished without trace and this made Antigone wildly, dizzyingly happy.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

## CHAPTER SIX

### DISOBEDIENCE

The Ritz Hotel

London

Fe uary 1895

Dearest Mo er

I do not wish to ing dishonour upon my family, but it is from e very dep of my heart at I impl e you to understand; I cannot marry your nephew and my cousin Charles. M e an at dearest Mo er, I would ra er be sent to e far reaches of e ear an marry a man who has no respect f me. So, it is wi relief, at I wi , f e time being, remove myself from your life.

I intend to ite regularly and entertain you wi many superb adventures.

When you ink of me, imagine at I am tucked away at boarding school, safe and sound in my little bed.

Wi kindest remem ances

Antigone

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

The Ritz Hotel

London

Fe uary 1895

Dearest Papa,

I have learned from you not to tolerate dishonesty. Regarding e impending sentence of dea , (f give me, I meant to ite marriage), it would be duplicitous of me to make vows at I cannot ra er wi not honour. I wi not be a slave to Mo er's whims.

One ing you can be sure of, Papa, is at you raised a true and honest girl. I honestly love you, however, I must be true to my f lings and not marry Charles. Please f give me, but I could s no o er options but to leave England.

Please be satis ed at I wi always be devoted to you, even ough I cannot obey you.

Antigone

P.S You wi nd a bank account substantia y depleted but I am sure in e long run you wi have saved money on e wedding.

P.S.S Please do not blame e bank te er, we were simply too of cious f him to question (imagine at!).

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

The Ritz Hotel

London

Fe uary 1895

Dear Cousin Charles,

I herewi respond to your marriage proposal. It is wi out regret at I decline. Yet, I must ank you f you have blessed me wi endless hours of amusement.

When I imagine plucking your moustache hair by hair, slowly extracting your ngernails from eir pink mounds of esh, my favourite, watching a swarm of March y larvae hatching from your eyes, nose, and mou , I f l utterly aroused. To be sure Cousin, your t ture is one of my most satisfying fantasies.

Your Cousin

Antigone

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

Miss A. Z. Finch

En route to Elsewhere

Fe uary 1895

To the Editor of The Times,

You shall nd this letter scandalous and no doubt it will feed your readers'

ravenous appetite for gossip. I am a young girl, not yet seventeen but I have a passionate grievance that must be aired. It has recently become apparent to me, that young ladies such as myself are trained to be little more than pretty lap dogs. We are nely educated in music, literature, art, and mathematics. We are multi-lingual. Yet, despite all these accomplishments we are required to not think. Is it not a travesty, in this modern age, that girls have such little freedom that we may not even choose husbands for ourselves?

I beg your pardon, but I must ask the question: why is it necessary for a girl to marry when she has the education of a man, the same wit, the same intelligence? Do the English not put great store in Education? Do the English not treasure their poets, artists, and thinkers? In this respect we are of equal minds are we not? Do you not believe then, that we girls are to be equally treasured? We girls do not want to be better than men, only equal.

To England, I say: this is your greatest folly. England has fought for an empire and won inestimable riches, religious freedom, and political strength. But as for the treasure at your doorstep, you have failed to take its measure. The feminine race is your untapped resource and you need not conquer a dangerous continent to mine them.

You may imagine that these words are fanciful ramblings of a child, so let me express myself forthright. From this moment I shall enjoy the freedoms that your own sex takes for granted, I demand the same rights, respect, and opportunities as my brothers. Be sure of this my whiskered friends; expect an explosion!

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

This is my rst letter to you, dear gentleman Editor and someday I hope with all my heart, I may address my letters to the Madam Editor.

Your humble servant,

Antigone Z. Finch

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

## CHAPTER SEVEN

### PERSPIRATION AND PISTOLS

Women must rely on intel igence, wit, and dexterity in weaponry. Forever they be victim to fate's cruel mercy, until they learn to fight.

A.T. Riott

After the chaos of people nding cabins, loosing luggage, nding luggage, loosing children, and reuniting with them, the ship's crew and passengers had settled into a smooth rhythm. Most of the excitement and nerves of boarding a steam ship for the rst time had died down for everyone. Everyone except Antigone.

Antigone had a problem, why can't I make my hands stop shaking?

The harder she tried the worse they shook. She fumbled for the key; but her ngers slipped with sweat. She tried banging on the door, but Pearl, her cabin mate did not answer. Antigone glanced behind her. The corridor had emptied and was now shrouded in a menacing, muted silence. The kind of silence where carpet deadens footsteps and swallows sound. Well, mostly all sound; there was something distant. A sort of dragging noise.

She rested her burning forehead against the cabin door and listened intently. Every instinct was on high alert; mainly fear. Fear overrode everything else. She could not move or think.

There it was again. Gaining on her; tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap. It was an odd sound but familiar and she surmised it came from a shadowy type of gentleman she had noticed loitering. Not obviously, but from the corner of her eye. He was dragging that lethal cane against the wall. She knew it concealed a blade because her Papa always carried one in London. The blades were long and thin like a fencing sword. Some were even laced with poison. A scratch could be enough to nish someone of ,f she thought, nish me of .f

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

The slow, methodical tap-tap glued Antigone to the spot. She stopped breathing. The space around her was closing in, 'please, please don't faint, 'her sticky ngers dropped the key.

'Bloody Queen of Scots,' Antigone banged on the door frantically even though she knew Pearl was out.

'I thought he looked a bit suspect,' a voice over Antigone's shoulder was calm and light. She looked up from the oor where the key was rmly wedged under the door.

'I wouldn't dilly-dally if I were you,' Tom opened the door with a heavy bunch of master keys. He didn't need to tell Antigone twice. She tumbled into the cabin and Tom slammed the door shut behind them.

'Tom Cox at your service, me lady,' the boy who looked a bit younger than Antigone with scruffy blonde hair, and a good dose of cheek in his eyes, ourished a low bow and extended his hand to help her up. At the same time, he reached back and clicked the lock over twice.

'You'll be all snug and safe now,' Tom looked around unabashed by the undergarments and lady's paraphernalia scattered about. He tilted his head to the side listening, 'and it sounds like people are back at their business. Where there's noise there is safety. Safety in numbers, me ole man used to say that, God rest his soul'.

Antigone was too alarmed to speak.

'Right ho,' Tom nudged Antigone to say something.

'Well, erm – thank you, Tom Cox,' she pulled herself up with the bed frame to support her jelly legs, 'my name is, Antigone Finch'. She shivered even though sweat oozed from her dress.

Tom whistled, 'Lordy, that is one righteous name'. The boy swayed from his heels to his toes a few times.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

The moment Antigone laid eyes on Tom she thought of a character in a book by Charles Dickens. A book called Oliver Twist. Tom had the same broken baby-bird eyes as Oliver Twist; a edgling who could defend itself, feed itself, shelter from the rain but lonely, very lonely—

'Oh my gosh. A tip. I'm hopeless,' Antigone muttered. She looked around blankly, forgetting the little purse hidden under her pillow. 'Will you come back later, it's just that I ... I,' she stuttered. Antigone did not want to say too much in case she choked up and began to cry.

'Not a bother, Miss, but you best be careful, some n's not right about that fella, not right at all,' Tom swept the hair out of his eyes and smiled. 'I'll pop back a bit later. On me break; see how you are doing, alrigh?' he said kindly.

'Alright, Tom,' Antigone tried to sound a bit cheery, 'thank you ... really thank you'.

Tom shut the door behind him and Antigone jimmied a chair under the door handle to be certain no one could open it from the outside. She wasn't even sure if this trick worked but had read about it in the Ladies Companion Magazine, I'm sure the Ladies Companion would not approve of me being soaked in perspiration, slightly on the smel y side and wanting, more than anything in the world, to cry, she thought miserably. Her eyes slid around the cabin. Just an hour before it was a decent little second-class cabin. The iron-framed bunk beds were as she had left them; white cotton sheets and heavy blue blankets with The Empress of India woven into the wool.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

A petite brown leather window seat that nestled between the bunk and side wall was still littered with bobby pins, stockings and an odd at box that was not at all well concealed under a mound of petticoat.

Antigone frowned at it. She didn't touch Pearl's belongings, so she hadn't noticed the box before. She eyed it suspiciously. Was Pearl carrying a weapon? Was she somehow related to the man following her? Antigone had more questions than she was even conscious of yet. If Pearl had been sitting right in front of her and said, re away, ask me anything; most likely Antigone's brain would have collapsed. Thankfully, Pearl was out, and Antigone had time to think.

Antigone placed an unsteady hand on her heart and took long deep breaths just as she had seen her mother do a thousand times over. For a split-second, she wondered if she missed her mother. This lightened the mood considerably as a little snort erupted from her nose.

'Miss mother; not a chance,' she said to no one.

'Are you talking to yourself Antigone? You know it is the rst sign of madness,' she mimicked her mother's clipped voice.

'What on earth am I involved in here?' she ran a hand under the mattress and felt the angular and reassuring shape of her diary. She ticked it off mentally. The Brownie camera sat on the windowsill untouched. Another tick. Everything seemed to be as she left it which meant no-one had entered the cabin. If no-one could get in, then she was safe. She needed to lie down and sleep. She was exhausted and certi ably nuts. Antigone's fastidiously constructed exterior was decomposing, and it was only day ve.

'I need to sleep,' she accidentally said out loud and then with pure exasperation, 'oh, shut up'. Antigone didn't even take off her dress. She collapsed onto the bunk. Pearl would be in soon, so she reached back and wiggled the chair out from under the handle. The pulse of the Empress's engine and the rocking of the sea were comforting. Antigone pulled across the privacy curtain and fell into the blackness of exhausted sleep.

New project

Antigone Finch

From under the door came muf ed laughter and soft conversations.

The deep sigh of the ship's whistle. A burst of laughter. Charlotte's laughter. Being jolted as the tram careened into Brixton. Striding away from the hotel in the half-light. Icy mist swirling around her ankles.

Looking over the rail into a green ocean; it is hungry and angry.

Imperceptible hand grazes her spine. Did she feel it? She's not sure.

Antigone turns, there is a face peering from the shadows. Lurking. Black vestments. It is cadaverous like a ghost. Her heart explodes. A blade thrust into her chest. Papa's cane that conceals a blade. Papa frowning, throwing his hands in the air. She is orphaned and falling into the sea. The sea takes hold of her legs and her arms and wraps her tight. A pungent odour burns her nostrils. A paperboy in the sea, his words swallowed by the saltwater, 'get your paper here, girl turns into boy' he gurgles, 'get your Antigone here, Antigone -'

'Antigone, Antigone,' Pearl stuck the small bottle of smelling salts right up Antigone's nostrils.

'Come girl, that's it, open them eyes' Pearl loomed over Antigone.

Who was more frightening, Pearl or the shadow in the dream, Antigone wasn't sure? Either way, Pearl was formidable enough for Antigone to obey.

'Alright, girl let it out. It were a bad dream, that be all'. Pearl clucked.

Antigone looked up through groggy eyes. There was something about Pearl, something she recognised but it was just another strange thought that hovered out of reach.

'Gawd Almighty, look at the state of you,' Pearl gingerly picked up the edge of Antigone's sheet and dropped it immediately, 'it's soaked through, that's a bit gruesome luv,' Pearl swept the petticoats, stockings, and pins off the stool and sat down purposefully.

'Anything you want to share with me Antigone?' Pearl cocked her eyebrow, something in her manner struck Antigone as being out of character. She was dead serious.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'I don't know – but – but – there is something strange going on'.

Pearl followed Antigone's gaze to the door, 'its alrigh' I locked it'.

Antigone's felt her shoulders relax—

'This is going to sound like I am a lunatic, but I think someone is following me'. Pearl let out a dry laugh—

'You ain't a lunatic by any tick of the clock,' she peeled a lock of hair off Antigone's sticky face, 'but you look like one'.

'Takes one to know one,' Antigone said tartly, easing herself up. No matter what state she was in; damp hair, soggy dress, Antigone was born and bred blue blood and not used to being spoken to in such a brash manner.

'No need to get snarky, just saying, that's all,' Pearl turned to the basin and washed her face. She was very thorough; even scrubbing behind her ears.

Now they were both standing up in the tiny room it was obvious that Pearl was a good foot taller than Antigone and exceedingly thin. Her limbs seemed to take up all the space so that no matter where Antigone moved some part of Pearl was already there.

'Would you mind – sort of moving,' Antigone asked, 'I'd like to freshen up a bit too'.

'You'll need a fair bit more than that,' Pearl said very quietly.

Antigone spun around from the basin, 'what's your problem?'

'I ain't got one but seems like you do,' Pearl said in a bored drawl. She was busying herself with something under her petticoats. Antigone stared with her clothes askew and mouth slightly open. She wasn't in a good frame of mind to confront Pearl.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'When you were out, doing whatever you do for hours on end, I was in mortal peril'. Antigone's voice rose an octave which was annoying because she came across as being the opposite of calm and composed, 'I am certain that it has something to do with you'. Pearl turned and looked at her straight in the eye. Antigone wasn't so comfortable with eye contact after all. Pearl's gaze was steady and scrutinizing. Antigone's eyes threatened to well up with tears. Pearl couldn't be cross when if she was honest, her peculiar cabin mate was right; her sharp-edged shoulders drooped. She broke the gaze and sat heavily on the edge of the lower bunk.

'I suppose you be right; it could have something to do with me,' Pearl admitted.

'Who was following me? Did he think I was you? Did he confuse us?'

Antigone fumbled with the hooks on her dress. In the presence of Pearl who was able to get in and out of her clothes with deft ef ciency, Antigone felt like a prize idiot.

'Gawd almighty, give us a gander at that'.

'No leave it – I'm ne thank you,' Antigone unclasped the rst hook of her dress. Only nine to g .

o

'Suit yerself'. Pearl lifted the little Brownie and opened its case.

Antigone bristled. She was not used to sharing her possessions with strangers.

'No,' Pearl shook her head thinking, 'no, I don't think so'.

'No, what?'

'Did you get a knock on the head or som ng?' Pearl asked seriously.

Antigone was stunned—

'You said n ,

o I said no wha

t as in what are you talking about. Is that clear enough?'

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Well, why didn't you just say so?' Pearl replied blandly. Her face was a picture of innocence. 'No clue why he be following you girl, but you best be careful'.

'You must know something,' Antigone said shrilly.

'Well, If I be completely honest -,' Pearl yawned. It was the early hours of the morning and she was dead tired, 'it might well be that he thinks you're involved in som ng' I can't discuss'.

'Don't you think that I need to know what is happening, I could be in danger'.

'I won't tell you because you be safer that way. But you best watch yourself. You are like a babe in the woods,' Pearl stood up and began fussing with her petticoats again. Antigone wanted to look away to be polite, but Pearl was like a solar eclipse; Antigone couldn't look away if she tried—

'Good Lord, is that a Tranter?'

'Crikey, how did you gure that? Thought a well-bred mare like you would only know about needlework and such'. Pearl was honestly dumbstruck. She held it loosely in her hand in a devil may care kind of way. Antigone reached over, took the pistol, and cocked the trigger just as she had been taught by Master of the Hounds at her house in St. Bees.

'You'd be surprised what they teach young ladies these days,'

Antigone marked a point on the door and aimed for the spy hole.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Alright, I reckon you've had enough fun with that,' Pearl eased the Tranter out of Antigone's hands and returned it to the garter under the petticoats. In the briefest moment, their eyes connected, and something shifted. Antigone wasn't alone anymore. Whatever was going on, whoever followed her, Pearl knew something. They were now in it together.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

CHAPTER EIGHT

## BOOK OF LIFE AND DEATH

### Whoever has sinned against me I shal blot out of my book.

Exodus 32:33

The next morning, Antigone woke up ravenous. She had skipped dinner the night before and over the past few days, existed on a diet of oatcakes and chocolate. Her stomach growled.

'Ah, it's you that are makin' all that noise; least the ship ain't going down, that's what I thought was happening for a second'. Pearl perched on Antigone's bunk thoroughly amused, 'thought I might have to call the doctor you was making such a racket'. She tilted her head and studied Antigone with blatant curiosity—

'Reckon I know you from somewhere, but I can't place it'.

'I thought that too for a moment but now I am certain we haven't,'

Antigone sucked in her stomach so it would not growl again.

Pearl tugged at the covers—

'Let's get you up and dressed for breakfast, shall we? It is about time you ate a decent meal. I ain't seen you up in the dining room once'.

Despite trying her best to be cross with Pearl, Antigone's face broke into a smile, 'I could eat a horse'.

'How about we start with eggs? Hurry up then, I am starving too. Me dad used to say I had hollow legs,' Pearl inspected her legs. They were long and thin with not much meat on them. She hoisted a foot onto the bunk—

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'See, hollow. I could eat for England,' Pearl rapped her knuckles on the bony bits.

'I am positive you could eat for England – um – do you mind,'

Antigone looked at Pearl's foot.

Pearl left her foot on the bed and stretched to touch her toes.

'So, Miss Antigone Z. Finch,' Pearl read the name on the cover of Antigone's diary. Antigone tucked it back under her pillow expecting Pearl to interrogate her, but she was pleasantly surprised when Pearl turned her attention to something else—

Oh no, not my clothes, Antigone's heart sank, am I to have no privacy.

In boarding school, it was a cardinal rule to stay away from another girl's possessions. Pearl obviously didn't understand the concept of personal space.

'What are you going to wear today, this lovely little frock, shame it's a wee bit on the small side for me or these handsome trousers?' Pearl had the frock in one hand and the trousers in the other and was grinning from ear to ear.

'How dare you ri e through my possessions,' Antigone hit her head on the bed frame. It looked like she would be doing this the entire journey as well as squabbling with Pearl. She scrunched her eyes waiting for the stars to die out.

Pearl looked aghast, 'What, don't tell me you never looked through my stuff?'

She turned to look at her small pile of belongings. She hadn't much but there was enough to have a good old goosey gander.

'Of course not, it is a gross disrespect of privacy,' Antigone snatched the frock, but Pearl held fast to the trousers.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Sadly, these ain't going to t either. I fancy a pair of trousers now I seen yours,' Pearl folded them neatly and placed them back into Antigone's drawer which had been tidied.

'Did you do that?' Antigone pointed to the tidy drawer.

'Huh?' Pearl tucked the top bunk sheets and blankets in neatly,

'there we go, perfect hospital corner'.

'Did you tidy my drawer?' Antigone looked around, 'and put away my toiletries – and shoes?'

'I did indeed,' Pearl said nodding, 'you're a disaster, girl, a mess from here to eternity'.

'I'm sorry,' Antigone stuttered. She was morti ed, 'I never had to—'

'Don't go getting your bloomers in a twist, I worked for the other half long enough to know you never done a scrap of cleaning in yer life. Never too late to learn is what Aunt Jemima used to say when I was no more than knee-high to a grasshopper,' Pearl sat on the far end of Antigone's bed and rolled up her thick, grey stockings. There was such little space.

'Anyway, enough of me, how about you eh? It wouldn't take some fancy detective to work out that you got somethin' ta hide'.

In the past few minutes, Antigone felt as though she had been interrogated, befriended, mollycoddled and cross-examined – twice.

Antigone swung her feet out of the bed and sat up. She wanted to get the inquisition over and eat uffy eggs on toast, drink gallons of hot tea and restore her growling tummy to its normal happy state.

'It's obvious I can't lie to you! You seem to have magical powers,'

Antigone inched. She hadn't meant to be quite so condescending. She was used to the catty banter of Charlotte and Jane. Pearl, on the other hand, was straight-talking and honest.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Spot on, Antigone, we agree to that. But like I said, enough of me, give me the gossip on you. I want to know everything,' Pearl nudged Antigone with her bony elbow.

'Well, technically my name is not Antigone Finch. My old name was mostly the same, but I had to change it. I am too well known in London and before you say anything, it's not because I'm special. It is because I am sort of – related – to important people. I changed my name and changed my life. I ran away'. Antigone had crossed her ngers and toes and hoped that her instinct to tell Pearl was right. But oh, my goodness, what if Pearl—

'You won't tell anyone Pearl, please, please don't tell'.

Pearl stared blankly, then tipped her head back and released a snarf which Antigone later learned was a combination of a snort and a laugh.

She also learned that it was contagious.

'Don't worry, girl,' Pearl said, 'we all got secrets, and some are worse than others'.

'I have a feeling that running away from home is not half the secret you have,' Antigone said gaining con dence. 'Listen, Pearl, I need to know exactly what is going on with the creepy man following me. I need to know if I am in danger – I need to know everything'. A tingle of excitement skittered over her scalp and the pale hairs on her arm stood on end.

'I'm saying naught, girl, it is too dangerous; all you need to do is keep your head down, you hear me – hoy – can I try on yer shoes?'

'That is a giant no and as for keeping my head down, no, why should I?'

'Listen here Antigone, I say what goes. I'm older and wiser'.

'I hardly think so'.

'Alright, how old are you?' Pearl stood up. Hands-on hips.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'I'm sixteen – just'. Antigone waited for Pearl to reveal her age but no luck, 'for Heaven's sake just tell me how old you are, and we will have it clari ed'.

'Hang about, you can't go asking a lady that, cor blimey! But if you must know I'm eighteen and av' been so for at least ve months'. Pearl pulled her petticoats and skirt on together, 'we all feel older than wot we are when we is young and then when we is old we wish we was young'.

The conversation was thankfully interrupted by a rap on the door.

Pearl scampered to the peephole; relieved. She had no desire to argue with Antigone. They were strangers after all. Pearl had more important things to do, 'I'd say he looks pretty decent,' she said motioning for Antigone to take a peep.

'It's just Tom,' Antigone ipped over the lock and slipped behind the door as it opened. She was still half-dressed.

'A letter from a toff,' Tom said brightly.

Pearl took it off the tray, 'go on then, you young pup, you won't get a penny out of me cause I ain't got one to me name'.

'No matter, Miss, I already got me tip from the gentleman above who sent it'. Tom frowned. He was just about to say something else when Antigone cut in.

'Pearl this is Tom Cox, he saved me last night from, from ...' Antigone couldn't frame the words properly because, in the broad light of day, she wasn't exactly sure what happened last night and if it was as bad as she imagined.

'Good man yourself, Tom,' Pearl didn't seem to clock that Antigone had just used save and last nigh

t in the same sentence. She ignored it

and slid a lethal-looking hairpin under the seal to crack open the envelope. Tom and Antigone's eyes met. They both noticed Pearl was acting shifty. Antigone gave up trying to be discrete and stepped out from her hiding place and pulled Tom into the room.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'By-crikey it's turning out to be an interesting ole day,' he beamed at Antigone, 'and it's only just begun'.

'Please sit-down Tom,' Antigone said nding her manners and her dressing gown.

'Alrigh,' tell us exactly who gave you the note then,' Pearl asked bluntly.

Tom didn't seem to mind her razor-blade manner; they were comfortable together, 'old rusty guts upstairs. Right old skilamalink'. He sat cautiously on the edge of the bed. His trousers had risen past his ankles and Pearl noticed his threadbare socks. She nodded seriously—

'Skilamalink, I know exactly who you mean'.

'Reckon it was the same bloke in the gas-pipes as was following Miss Antigone last night,' Tom said.

'Are you both speaking English?' Antigone huffed. Tom and Pearl might have been speaking Dutch for all she understood. Pearl raised a sharp eyebrow.

'Oh, get off your high horse, you're going to have to start speaking like us if you want to step down in the world,' Pearl's tone had an edge.

She was joking as much as being serious but after last night, Antigone's fresh resolve vanished, and an invisible knife cut through the new brittle friendship.

'I ... I wasn't trying to be ...'

'You steppn' down in the world Miss?' Tom said with the ease of someone who without apology, knows who they are. This was vastly different from the way Antigone was raised. She was acutely aware of the social hierarchy. Sometimes she was inferior and at others, superior, depending on the company.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'I'm not sure, Tom, I plan to see how I go with it all ... you know,'

Antigone felt a hot ush of gratitude in her belly. Pearl seemed satis ed with Antigone's embarrassment and tucked a lock of strawberry coloured hair behind her ear. Tom scanned the room.

'Are them biscuits for everyone?' he reached for a packet of oatcakes and stuffed two in his mouth.

'So, getting back to it, Miss,' Tom said between mouthfuls, 'rusty guts do mean som n' like cutthroat or sly. I could tell there was something off about him before he even spoke to me, I could tell he were a—'

'Skilamalink,' Pearl interjected.

'Yeah, a right orrible' skilamalink, and before you get antsy again,' Tom brushed his hands off on Antigone's blanket, 'it means he was a shady geezer, real secretive'. Pearl paled.

'Are you going to read it?' Antigone slid the note from Pearl's ngers,

'it's a very spidery hand isn't it, look at how the writing curls in on itself'.

'Well fancy that is,' Tom knew all about rich people's airs and graces,

'upper crust'.

'Not sure, looks a different style, maybe somewhere in Europe,'

Antigone opened the letter and Pearl pulled a shawl around her shoulders. Cold crawled across her skin—

'It might be upper crust but it ain't proper. It ain't'.

Antigone ran her ngers over the writing.

'You got the sight too?' Pearl snapped to attention.

'Sorry?' Antigone's blank expression was enough but Pearl wanted to be sure—

'You got the sight?' Pearl asked again; dead serious.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Please don't take this the wrong way but - I don't understand what you mean,' Antigone grimaced ready for another attack.

'The sight is this,' Pearl took the note and placed her ngers on the writing. She took slow deep breaths making the sort of sound you hear when you put a shell to your ear. Goose-pimples ared over her arms. Tom felt the goose-pimples too.

'The man who gave Tom the note is a nasty piece of work. That is certain. But whoever wrote it is twice as cruel. I can feel him slithering through me,' Pearl threw the letter down and turned on the tap to wash her hands. 'I don't want none of that on me,' Pearl lathered soap over her arms.

Antigone looked utterly perplexed.

'She got the sight,' Tom tipped his head knowingly at Pearl and popped the last oatcake into his mouth. 'Sometimes it can make you feel dirty, she's just washing off the dirt if you get my drift'.

'I saw it clear as day; there is something savage in that writing, and like Tom says, someone savage on this ship; true as the day is long,' Pearl wiped her hands dry on a towel. Her expression grim, 'this is going to end in blood – feel it in me bones'.

'Hang on,' Antigone looked from Pearl to Tom, 'I'm feeling like a colossal idiot. What is the sight? Can you explain it to me please?'

'Ard to explain because it is different for everyone who got it,' Tom scratched his head. 'To sum it up,' he said carefully, 'I would say it is something like a supernatural gift. Some folks can see into the future, some into the past. Some get a sort of shivery feeling and not much more, and then others like Pearl can sense danger and ghosts and stuff. I reckon Pearl could talk to them if she so wished'.

'To whom?' Antigone was fascinated.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'To ghosts and the like,' Tom waved at the thin air. Pearl imagined or felt the soft touch of ngers brushing her cheek. She shuddered and wished the sensation away.

'Goodness, it sounds so interesting. A supernatural gift. What is it like Pearl? What happens to you?' Antigone knew she should be more tactful because Pearl was clearly distressed, but she wanted details. Lots and lots of delicious details.

'It's bloody 'orrible that's what and that will be the end of it. Enough chat'.

'But ...'

'No, that be enough,' Pearl's lips quivered imperceptibly. She was ruf ed.

The note lay face down in the corner. Antigone, who had surmised she was the only one who was supernaturally ungifted, picked up the letter.

In her hands, it felt like run-of-the-mill writing paper. She imagined her ngers had the power to pick up energy, but nothing happened so she read it aloud instead:

'It says; the books were opened: and another book was opened, which is the book of life: and the dead were judged out of those things which were written in the books'. S

urely it was a passage from the Old Testament. It sounded very much like the kind of thing her ancient school priest would send the girls to sleep with. Pearl made a keening noise.

'You alright Luv?' Tom leaned away from Pearl, imagining she might cry or worse, vomit.

'I don't like this, I don't like it at all, why do they want to go bringing the Book of Life into it?' Pearl wrung her hands together.

'Into what?' Antigone and Tom said together. For someone, Pearl had met ten minutes ago, and Antigone the night before, Tom had rmly inserted himself into their strange new friendship.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Why the Book of Life though? It's so cryptic,' Antigone said.

'Jeeze for a girl who's had a top-notch education, you don't know nothing,' Pearl toyed with a yellowish stone that hung heavily around her neck. It was an odd thing for a girl to be wearing, let alone a girl like Pearl.

Antigone let her eyes linger on it for a fraction, but Tom had also noticed it

—

'What ya got there Pearl, I ain't seen nothing like that before, well –

except in a museum maybe,' Tom eyed her suspiciously, 'I ain't got the sight but I have an inkling you are up to your eyes in it right now, and I have an inkling you have something ...' Tom pointedly looked at the necklace, 'you have something that someone on this ship wants. They want it bad enough to threaten you with the Book of Life, whatever that is, but ...'

'Quiet,' Pearl put her nger to her lips. Tom raised a mocking eyebrow. Antigone followed Pearl's gaze to the door and instead of light pouring under the frame, there was a muted grey. Someone was outside.

The cabin light ickered in long fatal breaths and evaporated leaving them in half-light. Tom, Pearl, and Antigone scarcely breathed. They could have heard a pin drop.

After a long minute Tom stood up, 'well this has been illuminating,'

he patted down his crumby trousers, 'get it girls – lights are off. Any-ole-how, I got to be up on top deck to get some old duck ready for his day'.

Tom ipped the lock and stepped into a busy corridor. 'If you want my two cents,' he said popping his head back in, 'the geezer that wrote that note reckons that whatever you are up to – with that thing around your neck, is bad a-bloody-nuf to wipe your name off the Book of Life

– himself'. Tom

closed the door. The girls could hear his jolly whistle all the way down the corridor.

'Gor blimey,' Pearl groaned, 'it's obvious his head ain't on the block'.

She stood up and methodically applied pins to her hair, rouged her lips, and applied Antigone's perfume. She turned to face Antigone with an expectant glow in her eyes, all the terror of the note, and the sight, evidently gone—

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Right then, I'll be off too – got a few errands to attend to,' Pearl opened the door, 'might want to double-lock the door, Antigone, until I come back,' she smiled. 'Oh, and best not open it to strangers – and don't go wandering about on your own,' she slammed the door.

'But breakfast,' Antigone whined to the empty room.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

## CHAPTER NINE

### RAVINDA BLOOM & VIRESH

You are more than your body and more than your mind. You are many things.

You have a spirit body which may pass through worlds. Remember that you are al things, my dear love. You are al things. You are free to astral travel with the wind.

V.L.W

Viresh was hungry. Perspiration plopped into a vast forest of wiry, white whiskers that perched above his top lip. He had spent half a lifetime cultivating the graceful, downward slide of the longer whiskers and mathematical precision of the tightly curled ends. To the uninitiated, his moustache resembled a shaggy dog with a peculiar rear-end. The rear-end was, in fact, Viresh's one concession to fashion; a little golden ring which slid over the sharp needle of his right moustache curl.

Viresh wiggled his toes. His short, crossed legs were numb, and he was sure that a moment longer on the meditation cushion would result in permanent nerve damage. He attempted to breathe into his 'bottom-cheeks' as his mother had taught him as a child, but he had never quite mastered it. He attempted to concentrate on his breath but was too unsettled. Usually, in this kind of mood, he would simply twirl his moustache ends and wait for Ravi to nish meditating. But today was worse than other days. He felt cranky and irritated. He harrumphed and searched the dim light for the time. Seven forty- ve in the morning and shafts of golden sun ooded through the windows.

Viresh eased open his bandy legs and straightened out slowly. A sudden, sharp rap at the door catapulted his old bones into an upward motion that, at a stretch, resembled standing. There was a moment of suspension, during which Viresh wondered if he had imagined the knock.

He inclined his head to the peephole and with masterful timing, the door collided with his forehead and catapulted him backward

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

Ravi heard the blunt thud. One eye blinked open just in time to see Viresh's turbaned head bounce off the corner of the coffee table.

'Pearl my dear, do come in, and mind the heap,' Ravi unhurriedly unwound his long legs and gestured for Pearl to sit down. Pearl hoisted her petticoats and took an unladylike step over Viresh.

'Saved by the turban, hey, Viresh,' Pearl grinned.

'Philistine, uncultured cretin,' Viresh scolded into his moustache. He eased himself upright, his legs sticking straight out from under his tummy.

'Now then, Viresh my man, let us not keep the lady waiting – order breakfast for us all would you,' Ravi gave him a warning nod to behave.

Viresh pursed his lips, rolled his eyes and waddled off to ring for tea.

'What news do you have for me, Miss Pearl?' Ravi unleashed his every-day, charming smile which despite his efforts to dim its magni cence, generally had the effect of amnesia and a complete collapse of intellect on Pearl's part.

'What?' Pearl replied blankly. Viresh rolled his eyes again, but this time at her. He clicked his ngers in front of her face, 'wake up girl'.

Pearl's mind might have softened into warm gooey treacle, but her cave-man re exes had not. Her hand snapped over his wrist.

'Oww, do you think she is in her right mind, Sahib?' Viresh twisted his wrist out of Pearl's grip.

'Alrigh' no need to be rude, you know it happens from time to time, you really ought not to smile at me like that, Mr. Bloom; it makes me go all funny,' Pearl quivered.

'I simply asked if you had news for me?' Ravi crossed his long legs.

The churidars bunched up around his calves to expose powder brown skin. Pearl sighed.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Good grief,' Ravi pulled a rug over his bare legs to reduce the distraction.

'Perhaps I do have somethin' to say,' Pearl pulled herself together at last, 'but I do wish you would wear proper clothes. You are so distracting in them things'.

'These are called Churidars my dear, and are extraordinarily comfortable,' Ravi said.

'Right then, if you must wear them but you should know that they have quite an effect on women,' Pearl said in her matter-of-fact way.

Viresh snorted into the teacups.

'So,' Pearl leaned in close and spoke in a hushed tone, 'I know this for certain. Last night Antigone Finch was a right mess and scared to death.

Seems she is being followed and she has no idea why or who. Only that she is terri ed. Secondly, under the door this morning, came a threatening letter of sorts. It doesn't make much sense. Antigone says it is cryptic'.

'Does she now?' Ravi leaned forward a bit and Pearl did not like his interest in the letter or Antigone. Antigone was pretty and educated and she wanted to keep her far, far away from Ravi Bloom.

'Thirdly, my sight told me it was a horrible violent person that wrote it. There is someone on board this ship who knows something about you know what,' Pearl took her tea and poured it into the saucer.

'Good heavens, I'll knock that habit out of you, if it's the last thing I do,' Ravi's sour lemon face made Pearl wish she had better manners; like Antigone ,she supposed.

'Who is this Antigone Finch and what do we know about her?' Ravi took a polite sip of tea from the cup as though demonstrating to Pearl how one should drink tea.

'As you know she is me cabin mate,' Pearl slurped.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'My cabin mate,' Ravi responded with a nod.

'Ah, no, she's my cabin mate'.

'Yes, that's right, she's my cabin mate'.

'Cor blimey, you are ying it today, hoy Viresh, what did you put in his tea?' Pearl said winking.

'Dear Lord, give me patience,' Ravi looked at Pearl exasperated and began again. Very slowly. 'So, this Antigone believes she is being followed and this relates to you how?' Ravi needed to persevere before Pearl got distracted again.

'Oh, let me see,' Pearl tapped her ngers against her forehead, 'if memory serves me correct, you stole something of value from the Queen of England, you were stupid enough to get yourself burgled, beaten and locked into a trunk. Just in a nick of time, a highly intelligent and fast witted, chamber-maid, that be me, intervened in the robbery, threw a pot of hot tea in the said burglar's face, reclaimed the stolen item which happens to belong to the Queen of England and bolted the door'. Pearl did not take her eyes away from Ravi and deliberately lled her saucer to the brim with tea.

'Prior to all this, I had a perfectly good job, a nice little room of me own and a quiet ole' life,' she slurped.

'For Goodness Sake, you had nothing of the sort, you were bored and restless and wanted adventure,' Ravi admonished.

'Maybe so, but I still saved your arse—'

'As you are drinking tea Madam, would you care for more toast,'

Viresh slung the plate under Pearl's nose.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Indeed, you did save the day Pearl, but more importantly, you saved the Ashoka stone and that is worth more than a thousand of me,' Ravi said seriously. 'You saved it and now it is yours to protect and hold until it can be safely returned to India'.

Pearl lost the thread of conversation imagining that a thousand Ravies could be either heavenly or stone-cold irritating. She unconsciously took the intricately carved stone that hung around her neck and slid it back and forth over the strap.

'So, what you reckon?' Pearl asked after a comfortable moment of silence. Ravi leaned back in his chair looking for all the world like he had something profoundly intelligent to say.

'I think – I think we require more tea and toast'.

'Oh, order me a slice of that scrumptious strawberry shortcake as well will you Viresh,' Pearl grinned endearingly at the old man. Ravi noticed that Pearl was extremely capable of being in mortal peril and yet able to eat every cream cake known to man.

'Plenty of cream,' Pearl added.

Ravi absently drummed his long ngers on his thigh. Within moments his eyes took on a faraway look. His mind was slipping away from the room. Pearl had learned not to interrupt this oddity. Despite knowing deep down, that this was an intimate time for Ravi, she could not slide her attention away. Ravi's usual mischievous twinkle was replaced by something bigger, something deeper that she couldn't quite put her nger on. It was as though his mind sank into some dark mysterious place where no one else could go. Pearl tiptoed over and placed the blanket over Ravi's shoulders. Viresh gave her a soft look.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'There is more to you, my dear, than even you realise,' Viresh said gently. 'I see why you love him so, but he is not one for this world'. Viresh looked out of the window and away across the ocean, 'and he is not one for you'. He tilted his head to the side squinting just a little so that his eyebrows met in a loveable tangle just above his nose, 'but you already know this – don't you'.

Pearl sighed. Deep down, she did know.

'He will be away now for some time,' Viresh regarded Ravi. 'This moment that we are in – this mission – it is vital for the well-being of the next century – it is vital to maintain peace – not just Britain and her colonies but for the entire world,' Viresh ushered Pearl gently out of the room.

'Even for the likes of Australia?' Pearl probed. She wasn't sure she understood.

'Yes,' Viresh replied.

'Alright, what about Russia?'

'Also, Russia, and New Guinea, Japan, and Austria', Viresh thought that was enough discussion for the time being, besides, he needed to keep watch over Ravi. He brought his palms together at his forehead and then his heart, 'be vigilant, be wise and be kind. We are all in need of friends – now more than ever'. Viresh went to close the door but stopped short, 'if you truly believe Miss Finch has somehow become involved in –

all of this – then you must protect her'. Viresh closed the door, 'Please God, keep her safe, 'he prayed, 'she's a good gir 'l.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

## CHAPTER TEN

### THE SPIRIT MEN

The Spirit of Man has two dwel ings: this world and the world beyond. There is also a third dwel ing-place: the land of sleep and dreams Upanishads

When Ravi was a stubborn child and refused to go to school, he closed his eyes and let his mind slip away. He hauled up the anchor of his mind and allowed his thoughts to y off into the sky, and, soon after, his body would feel weightless. Like a cloud he travelled aimlessly from one time to another, from one land to another. It was much later, when he turned thirteen, that he began to have some control over his travels. Ravi found that he could journey into the past, into the future or creep like a ghost into the present. He called this Astral Trave land right now was not a good time to let his mind soar. Pearl was rabbiting on about cream-cakes in her oddly soothing, pirate-like drawl. Viresh was clattering porcelain; neither seemed to notice that he was becoming distant, beginning to slip away.

Ravi's vision dimmed, and he was drawn away from the fabric of the room and voices around him. He hovered now, just above his body.

Fleetingly he tried to hold onto the rich timbre of Pearl's voice, but that too faded. The walls of the Empress of India, the litter of teacups and plates receded into darkness. He was neither his body nor his mind. Ravi drifted in space as fragmented images, snatches of sound, colour, and half focused faces seeped into his awareness and away again.

The men who attacked Ravi nudged the edge of his awareness. A metallic smell and taste coated his throat, his tongue. A dim yellow light cut through the darkness and lit the claustrophobic space; it was dif cult to breathe.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

Ravi's body gave an involuntary jerk as Viresh ushered Pearl out of the room. For someone with squat legs, Viresh made the distance between the door and his master in less than a heartbeat. It was imperative that nothing happen to Ravi's physical body while his soul was absent. Viresh lay his hand on Ravi's knee and somewhere inside the darkness, Ravi knew that he could completely submit. Ravi heaved a great sigh and allowed his limbs to melt into a warm dead-weight. His awareness of the room slid backward. He slid backward in time: Dull thuds of books being opened and dashed onto the oor, urgent whispers, and papers underfoot. A shattering of crystal, and the unmistakable thwump, thwump of his mattress being dragged off the bed. An angry throb around the gum, the teeth, blood. Legs walking past the trunk this way and that. And a far-off voice that was gathering momentum in his consciousness. A disembodied voice. Female, Arr, what be you doing? This ain't your room. Scuf es, a sharp sound, esh on esh, silence. And falling again. Falling into the black vast nothing.

After so many years of Astral travel, Ravi was in complete control and he was able to slide back and forth between his thinking brain and his journey.

This is al wel and good, he thought, but I need to go deeper, I need to see clearly. His body shuddered, and he felt the reassuring weight of Viresh's hand on his thigh. Ravi had a strong sense that the thieves were searching for the Ashoka Stone, just as he had been.

Images fell soundlessly into Ravi Bloom's memory pool. He released the last pinch of tension in his neck and allowed himself to slip into a deep trance. He opened his awareness to all intelligence; physics, astrology, astronomy, to every experience in the world and beyond it.

Viresh waited patiently. He had immense respect for Ravi's extraordinary ability to travel into the psychic unknown, but he also had a special talent. Viresh took the facts of a situation and placed them in an order to create meaning. He turned over the ship's menu which was covered in Pearl's greasy ngerprints and began to systematically list everything that had led to this point:

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

Departed Bombay: January 16

Arrived London: January 31

Located Ashoka Stone in the Crystal Palace. Re-acquired it successfully February 3

February 6 Sahib accosted and beaten into unconsciousness in our lodgings. Room upended in search of what?

a) cash and valuables

b) political papers

c) Ashoka Stone

Search was interrupted by chamber maid – a Miss Pearl originally of Swindon Shire. Miss Pearl, with incredible instincts and fast wit, swung the coal bucket into what she described later as, 'a rangy looking gentleman'.

The second gentleman slipped out before she fully realised what was happening.

Miss Pearl came into our employee on the same day February 6, thanks to her cleverness and courage.

From February 6 to February 11 we were followed.

Despite our efforts – travelling up and down London on trams and buses, we could not shake our shadow. During this time, we narrowed the villain down to either: a male child around the age of 12 who looked a street urchin type, and a Caucasian male who was tall in stature and dressed appropriately for someone such as an upper servant – he had a rather humorous moustache. A sparse looking thing with tufts of fuzz.

We changed our abode twice more before ascertaining that it was not safe to stay in London a moment longer – We were in peril and therefore in danger of losing the Ashoka.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

These questions remain:

1. Identity of the attackers?

2. Why do they want the stone?

3. Who would gain the most from possessing the stone?

Miss Pearl has a cabin mate – Miss Antigone Finch originally of where?

Miss Finch is reported as secretive and nervous.

Odd note with biblical reference?

Is Miss Finch creating a diversion or is she seriously under threat?

Speak with Miss Finch to get description of man following her. If she is boni ed in her fears, then she PEARL IN DANGER

After scribbling down a map of events, it was clear to Viresh that whoever had attempted to thieve the Ashoka Stone had miraculously tracked them onto the ship.

Preposterous, Viresh thought, how could those vil ains know our every move, we were up-mostly carefu .l Viresh clicked his tongue against his teeth. Does Viresh think that the criminals believe Miss Finch is Pearl, and therefore do they believe that Miss Finch has the stone

? He absently twirled his moustache around his fore nger, the young ladies are in dange .r Viresh fought the urge to leave the room and nd Pearl. His sixth sense hummed with worry, but he could not abandon his Sahib.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

Meanwhile, Ravi felt the warmth and weight of Viresh's hand on his knee and felt safe enough to let his spirit be transported to where it needed to go. He opened his mind's eye and found himself standing at the edge of a cliff. In front of him, as far as he could see, dense forest plunged murderously into ravines and grew up again at sharp weird angles. Jostling him from behind, was a creeping undergrowth of fat, woody vines that crisscrossed the forest oor under his feet. It was hot and humid. A dank smell of rotting vegetation burnt his nostrils. He tried to breathe through his mouth and inhale some fresh air, but it was impossible, the heat was suffocating.

Ravi felt his spirit waver. And without warning the breeze swept him off the cliff and transported him, like vapour, downwards into the earth.

Ravi's ethereal body snapped through deep rock and collapsed into a jumble of particles; no limbs, no bones. Lightning seared his brain, and he fancied that death would be easier than the pain in his skull, in his eyeballs. Through all this, his physical body shuddered and arched under Viresh's anxious gaze. Viresh sweated. He felt the danger. He felt the urgency to pull his master back. To slap and shake him awake. But to do this so suddenly, when Ravi was so far away, was not an option. If Ravi were to dislocate from his soul, it would be permanent and Viresh had seen the awfulness of such a thing before.

Ravi lingered in a barely conscious state. Just about containing the pain. From time to time he opened his eyes. He could not see much past his nose but each time he dared to test the pain; it became less. Gradually he kept his eyes open for longer, accessing his surroundings. To be sure he was lying on a cold, damp cavern oor. Above him, bats snuf ed and snored.

'Good day little fellows,' Ravi whispered with his mind. He let himself inhabit the space. A restless murmur hummed at his ears. It was irritating and distracting. He tried to listen beyond it. Ravi lifted his head a little higher and like sunrise after the darkest night, he heard them. Human voices muf ed and winsome.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

Ravi willed his spirit toward the sound. Everything was so strange that he simply forgot to be careful.

'Dear Ones,' the withered man's voice grazed the icy air like sandpaper.

Eight Monks gathered in a silent circle around the old man's feet.

Their worn robes sighed with each subtle movement.

'As you suspect, disaster has befallen us,' the old man felt the energy stiffen. The monks were restless but there was another energy too, something beyond the reach of the candlelight. The Fifth Monk, Seth, followed the old man's gaze and frowned.

'I should not have waited so long,' the old man said, regaining his train of thought. Of course, nothing lived in these caves, nothing but bats.

They were buried half a mile underground. I am getting too old, he thought.

'My Dear Ones, despite our relentless devotion to keeping the Books of Life and Death a secret ...' the monks who had hardly dared to breathe, held on even tighter. The old man could feel their hearts slowing down, waiting. 'Despite a thousand years of diligence in keeping these sacred texts from corrupt and depraved minds; we have been compromised'.

'How is it possible?' Menache propelled himself to standing.

'Modern technology has made the world smaller, there is more information, ways to collaborate knowledge,' Ambrose eased himself to upright and turned to Menache, 'we have much work ahead and I fear much danger'.

'Impossible, we have left no trace, no path,' Gudbrand the Finn was prone to outbursts of passion. His white knuckles grasped at the strap of his leather bag.

'Be calm brother,' Ambrose soothed.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Be calm! I swear at the feet of Odin that I will cut off your head one day,' Gudbrand snarled. The cave acoustics sent the quarrelling voices ricocheting off every surface. The bats stirred unhappily. And in the shadows just beyond the candlelight, another energy pulsed with the emotion.

'Djaliny,' Anatjari murmured. With his painted face and glass-topped spear, stepped forward. He was unlike the other monks. He lived between worlds and spoke once or twice a decade. But if he spoke the old man listened. Anatjari understood every creature, every rock pool, every tree, and breeze. He had travelled far to be here in the cave, for this moment.

He had sensed the urgency to return to India many months before and now he sensed something else. The monks gathered silently listening, as Anatjari instructed. He pointed his spear into the darkness. His bare feet crossed the space between the energy of Ravi and the circle of monks.

Ravi felt himself being inhaled and tenderly absorbed into Anatjari's soul, into his body. It was like nothing he had experienced in astral travel.

He was no longer invisible energy, hovering uselessly, he was now inside Anatjari, in his mind. Ravi could see the slow waves of memories that swept and dipped like desert plains. He smelt the burnt soil of the Australian bush and the wings of black desert butter ies quivering against his skin. Ravi allowed himself to be lulled into this mirage and just as suddenly, he was alone again.

Anatjari turned to his brother monks, 'Noyt Molka Moombaki,' he nodded his head.

The old man sighed, 'that is some relief'.

'With respect, Anatjari, could you speak the common language,'

Gudbrand requested as politely as possible for a short-tempered Viking.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'The spirit with us has the sacred stone in a place where the sea meets the sky,' Anatjari placed a woven bag over his shoulder, in it was a small and ancient book made of bark and grasses. The book of star travels.

It contained pictures rather than text of physics and space travel. The kind of information that could be used to build destructive ying weapons and take man into space. He placed a hand on his heart, nodded deferentially to the old man, then slipped away.

'Your Eminence, please tell us everything,' Ambrose sat down on the cave oor as a mark of respect. The others followed.

'Recently, British intelligence of cers intercepted a coded message from the Austrians to the Germans. This message contained ve words,

"AND THE BOOKS WERE OPENED", this,' the old man suppressed his grief,

'is our war cry'.

'The books they refer to are our own Books of Life and Death,' the old man turned his attention to a wrinkled, small-boned monk who sat lightly, and slightly apart from the others. 'It is your book Mohamed, your book that they want. You are now in peril and so will be the world if or when it is found by them'.

'But what about the stone? Without it, they have no key to decode the books. No possibility of understanding the texts,' Mohamed replied sagely.

'And, Anatjari, said it is safe with the spirit man,' Ambrose added.

'But it is possible the stone can be lost, stolen, forced from safe hands,' Mohamed rubbed his chin.

'To be safe – we must destroy the books. We have no other option,'

Mohammad looked at the strain in his fellow monk's eyes, 'we should burn them, burn them all immediately. Already there are too many secrets inscribed on stones, on tombs, in caves – sooner or later these ...

these power-hungry men will take their secrets and use them for evil'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

The oldest monk shuf ed to Mohamad and placed a fatherly hand on his shoulder, 'do you remember when we met, my Dear One?'

Mohamad nodded, worry blazing in his eyes.

'You were no more than a child. Oh, I remember you, such a brave heart, so determined to be strong,' the old monk allowed Mohamad to lean into him as though he were a child again. Mohamed's body sagged as if this were the only time in so many years that he felt unable to carry his burden.

'Your burning love has never failed me, you have been strong and true, now you must carry it on to the bitter end, whatever that means for you, for me and for the world,' the old man took a step back and regarded his student with a mix of love and sadness.

'Your book, Mohamad, could bring down the world in a single chapter. Remember the good that we have fought for, the evolution of morality, of ethics, of kindness; all could vanish in an instant if you were to burn these books'.

Seth put his hand on Mohamad's shoulder, 'my brother, remember our oath?' The monks murmured agreement.

'Share only when the world is old. Share only when the world is wise,'

Seth chanted.

'Believe me, there will come a time when man will not kill man when man will be liberated from suffering and chaos. Take your books to the farthest reaches of the earth and to the most unlikely of places. This is our gravest time dear ones, be vigilant and do what you must,' the old man glowed faintly in the chamber.

One by one, the monks disbanded until the old man was left alone.

He turned his attention to the darkness beyond the candle- ame.

'And as for you spirit-man; keep the stone safe at all cost'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

Ravi's spirit twitched and spun. He could not believe what he was seeing. What he was hearing. For centuries, these books had been children's fairy tales. The nine monks were supernatural heroes: warriors, spiritualists, intellectuals. But they were real and had been protecting the Books of Life and Death for a thousand years. It was silent in the cave but as the responsibility of protecting the stone became clear, he too wanted to vanish with Anatjari, into the Dreamtime.

Ravi, get yourself together man, this is reality, just breathe, breathe no ,

w he scolded himself. But instead of inhaling fresh air, a vicious wave of sick lled his nostrils. Ravi groaned and felt himself swaying precariously in the darkness. Sweat formed in clammy beads over his body. Ravi's last thought was, I must lie down, but before he nished the thought, a roar of locomotive engine crashed into his skull and buckled his knees. He was disorientated and dizzy. He tried to grip the oor, but his blood pressure was dropping so fast that he lost his bearings. Ravi knew he was losing consciousness and thankfully darkness ate the last shred of candlelight.

Somewhere in the dark, images of Ravi's life begin to form. One image after another rushed across his closed lids like thunder. Ravi felt as though he was being sucked from death; fast, hard and ruthless. His body jolted and his heart gave one violent pound. Then skipped one, two, three beats. Viresh could not wait a moment longer. He stuffed smelling salts under Ravi's nose and thumped his chest—

'Sahib...Sahib,' Viresh opened one eyelid at a time and peered in.

Ravi's eyes had rolled back into his head.

How long Ravi had been in trance; he was not sure. He was light-headed, super-conscious. He observed from deep inside his mind, a foul odour. It slowly grew in intensity—

'Whash that God-awful shmell?'

Viresh cupped his hand over his mouth to test his breath, he had forgotten to clean his teeth.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Morning breath I am afraid, Sahib,' Viresh chuckled with relief. If Ravi was complaining, then he was restored to health.

'The shcent of you could shink the British Navy,' Ravi slurred.

'Sahib, once again I thought I had lost you – in all that ...' Viresh covered his eyes with his small, chunky hand and tried to regain his composure.

'Viresh thinks he is most certainly getting too old for all this excitement'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

## CHAPTER ELEVEN

### PEARLS OF WISDOM

What matters is not the idea a man holds, but the depth at which he holds it.

Ezra Pound

During the day, I do not believe in ghosts. At night, I am a little more open minded

Anonymous

'But Pearl they're just superstitions that people made up a long time ago because they didn't understand the world properly, the science,'

Antigone said gently. A few days of peace and quiet had befallen them and Antigone was beginning to think she had overreacted to everything.

Pearl had stopped disappearing and now spent most of her time in the cabin. They had also mutually, but silently decided not to mention the letter again. Antigone had discovered that Pearl was terri ed by it, and a million other things which had no basis in solid fact. She was beginning to understand Pearl better now. She was clever. Maybe as clever as Jane, but she had no education and was hyper-sensitive about it. Each time Antigone wanted to say something she had to run it through a lter rst.

Pearl swung around from washing her face at the sink. Soap bubbles hung off the end of her nose.

'I don't mean to question your faith, it's just that ...' Antigone petered off. Pearl was giving Antigone one of her crafted looks. It was a combination of disappointment and exasperation.

'Na, I ain't worried about that, Antigone,' Pearl wiped off her nose.

Antigone's shoulders dropped a full inch; almost ready to relax.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'It's just that I be a bit concerned about your supernatural safety, that's wot. You are wide open, my girl. You are wide open to any old lurker.

Could be a good'un or a bad'un wanting something from the human world. They be smacking their lips and clapping their hands merrily when they see you coming,' Pearl sniffed. 'All innocent and stupid; that's wot you are'.

'But Pearl, look around you. You are on a boat in the middle of the ocean, as if there would be a – what did you say – supernatural attack out here'.

'What did I just tell you about owing water and them 'orrible ghosts,' Pearl dried her face off. 'You and yer ne education, I wouldn't have it for the world if it meant I had a closed-off mind,' she sighed heavily and climbed onto the top bunk.

Antigone could hear Pearl making sure her good luck charms were under the pillow and in her night socks—

'What are they? Maybe I could try them too?'

'Only works if you got faith in 'em,' Pearl huffed, 'any way you can get your own apple seeds'. Pearl obviously trusted in her old-world charms and trinkets to keep away the ghouls because her breath immediately fell into the slow deep rhythm of sleep.

Antigone, on the other hand, was tetchy. She lay awake trying to work out if she was closed-minded. Deep down she knew Pearl was right.

Pearl was always right.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

One thought led to another and soon Antigone was searching her conscience. Had she ever been ippant or dismissive to Nancy? Bile rose from her guts and cloyed in her mouth. It was as though her body knew the answer before she even asked. The time Antigone insisted that Nancy take elocution lessons because Charlotte and Jane found her accent bumpkins. Or the time Nancy did all her chores with the collected works of Jane Austin balanced on her head. Just like that, a lifetime of friendship was cast into shadow. Having poor Nancy hang the washing with books wobbling on her head had the same amount of dignity as a dog rolling over for treats, and what were her treats? A ntigone thought, just my

stupid company, I am such an entitled brat .Now her head was beginning to throb and whether she wanted it or not, an unpleasant truth made the situation even bleaker. Was she more like Cousin Charles than she cared to acknowledge? A vial concept but if there was a shred of truth to it, she would rectify it.

They might be related by blood but surely, she could overpower inheritance with good intentions. Antigone wiped her lips on the edge of the sheet. She could still taste ghastly sweet saliva, I need a bucke ,t j ust in case. The bunk creaked as Pearl rolled over. Antigone rolled onto her side too and snuggled into the blankets. Tomorrow she would be a better person. Tomorrow she would write to Nancy. Tomorrow she would try harder.



The next morning, Antigone found the room empty. Pearl had left her belongings immaculately folded. A symmetrical stack of frayed annel undergarments and freshly brushed woollen travelling suit took up such modest space that Antigone was instantly reminded of Nancy's two dresses. One yellow and the other blue. She waited for the tug of grief pass and then dragged herself out of bed. Thankfully hunger outweighed melancholy. The prospect of tea and crumpets dripping with butter was irresistible. Antigone half slid and half fell out of her bunk with a thud. The sheets and blankets cascaded after her.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'What's this?' Antigone pulled a crumpled piece of paper from under her bottom. Scribbled in a childlike hand was a note, 'is nothing sacred?'

she mumbled. The paper had been ripped from Antigone's diary. On the front was a long message about an Aunt Phillomena and on the back was a sketch. It could have been a dog or possibly a horse wearing a hat. If it was a clue, Antigone thought, she's bonkers. She turned the letter over and read it.

To Whom it May Concern ( at be you Antigone).

Last night Auntie Phi omena came in a dream. She is not half scary, so I hope it be e last of it. Anyhow, she said at you n ded to be careful. She said you wi nd yourself in a place where ere ain't no light. She wanted you to have a special prayer, so I ote it down f you. If you ever nd yourself stuck in a dark place – you got to say it over and over. Then you wi be found.

Fire of air and re and ear .

Cleanse and bless is home and hear .

Drive away a harm and fear.

Only good may enter here.

P.S. DO NOT leave is room. Aunty Phil wi have me haunted and I don't fancy at. But apart from her, ere is a good reason which I sha te you later.

Be back in a bit.

Pearl

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

Antigone slid the note under her pillow, s

' orry Pearl but I have to eat

before I die of starvation,' and as an afterthought, 'I'll take myself to chapel too. My mortal soul needs a spring clean and Aunt Phillomena would be proud'.



The breakfast room was large and open with long tables and benches instead of chairs. It was a friendly atmosphere and little groups were laughing and chatting at every table. Antigone queued with a heavy white plate.

'Whatcha like luv?' asked the serving lady.

'Um, can I have toast, please? And beans? And eggs?' Antigone's eyes lit up at all the food, mounds and mounds of it. Nothing like the meagre rations at Chaf ey.

'You can have whatever you like, Sunshine,' the lady piled up Antigone's plate. 'Here you go lass, put a bit of meat onto your bones'.

Hot, sugary tea lifted Antigone's spirits and after a few minutes of steadily sliding beans, toast and egg into her mouth, she was thoroughly revived. She nished the last bite and yawned. After piles of food, it would be easier to skip chapel and head back to the cabin for a post-breakfast nap. Pearl's letter it through her mind but Antigone, who was rather good at following her own rules, thought she might chance it.

By the time she reached the chapel, hard driving rain thundered against the stain glass windows. Any other time the windows would have been pretty but today they wrapped the congregation in crimson. It was unnerving to step into a chapel the colour of hell re. Jane would appreciate the irony, Antigone thought as she swept her gaze over the room. The best place to sit, was close to the doors, far away from rst-class passengers who might recognise her. The back pew was mostly empty and no sooner had Antigone decided upon it than the two ladies in lavender made space for her.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

As the service began, and heads bowed in prayer, a fourth person slipped into the pew. His clothes reeked of tobacco and sour sweat.

Antigone opened her eyelids a fraction. Long legs draped in black hose pipe trousers. She need look no further to know who it was. Fear leaped in her heart.

'Excuse me, would you mind if I slid out?' Antigone whispered to the old lady.

'It is awfully hot in here,' the lady whispered behind her hymn book,

'you squeeze out in front of Portia, she won't mind a bit'.

Antigone lost no time in getting out. Her immortal soul would have to do battle with Pearl's ghosts and ghouls another day. She bolted for freedom.

The top deck was empty, slippery and exhilarating. Shards of rain stung Antigone's cheeks and she felt unimaginably happy. For the rst time since leaving London, she felt hopeful. She felt free. Antigone lifted her face to the rain and let the stuffy cabin and its many odd goings-on wash off her. She was completely alone. Behind her, sturdy deck chairs were stacked and tied together at the wall, and to the left, a large lifeboat was tethered to the rail. She pulled a summer shawl around her shoulders hoping she would never need to make use of the boat. It looked big enough on deck but on the vast, expanse of sea, it would be nothing more than a matchstick.

Antigone scanned the surroundings. Storm clouds and grey sky transmuted day into night. An odd green half-light replaced the sun and still there was not another soul on deck despite over 2000 passengers.

Fear trickled through her spine. She was sure the man had not followed her, but the exhilaration dissipated. Antigone felt discomforted, if one other person was up here looking out to sea, I would be ne, she thought, where is everyone? B

ehind her, a metal door that was tucked under the stairwell slammed shut with every swell. The regular grind of metal on metal and then clang of the unhinged door smashing back into its frame was unnerving.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

Antigone squared her shoulders and tried to shake off a feeling of being watched. She took a few tentative steps away from the rail, better get back down to the cabin. The deck was slippery and moving under her feet. No wonder no-one's up here, she thought. S

he gripped the rail again

and looked down into the churning black sea. Antigone wanted to get inside fast but there was a thought developing, a clue. She just had to let it come—

Jane would have this horrid situation sorted by now. She would agree with Tom that whatever is happening has something to do with Pearl and that strange necklace. Jane would say that she has seen that relic thing somewhere else. Oh, my goodness! It is a relic!

It didn't take more than half a minute for Antigone's thoughts to clarify and the hard rain to settle into a soft mist.

The relic, it must be Indian or from somewhere close to India.

A voice plucks Antigone from her thoughts but it is strange. She is falling. Falling into a trench of mist and sharp, hot pain. Red light explodes across her eyes as her ankle smashes into the deck. It is excruciating but she is still focused on the Indian relic, it has writing on it. Sanskrit writing on the stone. The stone hanging from Pearl's neck ... Sanskrit .She is falling and falling in slow motion but in front of her eyes is the headline Ancient Indian Artefact Stolen from Crystal Palace.

Behind Antigone's eyelids, lightning speared the sky. When she nally wrenched open her eyes, the lightening was replaced by a slash of red mouth across death-white skin. Her mind imploded and the terrifying face retracted like a camera lens. Her eyelids uttered and closed. Sweet darkness.

She is slipping through space now. No matter where Antigone puts her hands there is nothingness. Every time she almost gets a grip on something rm, it dematerializes.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

So odd, Antigone thinks. But it is a good odd because now she is back in the tram with Charlotte and Jane; it is dark though. Too dark to see. She focuses all her effort on reaching out to her friends but there is nothing; they too are space. Pearl is with them, reading a book. Reading an ancient book, the pages falling to dust in her hands. Antigone screams, STOP, STOP, s

top d

estroying the book but Pearl just looks up sadly and mouths the words, I mus .t

'Don't damage her. I vant her in one piece, I vant her to talk'.

An accent, German maybe or Viennese, Antigone muses. She is riding a wave of some happy cosmic current. She feels magni cent -

oating, ying, soaring. But as soon as she realises how immensely wonderful ying is; a sharp pain stabs into her unconscious mind and rattles her awake—

'I don't want to wake up,' Antigone's voice does not reach her lips.

'Vot did she say?' asked the German voice.

'Not sure Boss. Shall I rough her up a bit more?' barked a rough English voice.

'Nien, she is damaged enouf thanks to your stupidity,' the plump young man paced to the door and turned the handle, 'leave her until she vakes properly, zen ve shall speak'. He turned his head and took a long look at Antigone. She was strapped to the chair like a ragdoll. Her head had slumped to the side and a smudge of blood had dried on her cheek,

'vell, perhaps just ein little slap,' he said curiously.

Antigone hovered between conscious and unconscious. She understood that something was not quite right. She knew for certain though, that she did not want to wake up. A hard slap tore across her cheek.

'Ow, Nancy,' Antigone croaked. Her mouth was thick and gluey.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Vot vas dat. Vot did she say? said the German.

'I believe she called you, "Nancy", Boss,' the English one was amused.

Antigone couldn't see anything; her eyes were bruised but she could smell, and she knew that smell. It was the skilamalink, but she didn't mind; if Nancy was with her then she was probably just having a terrible dream.

Antigone rode a wave of pain. Her left cheek was on re. She fought the urge to wake up, but the pain was intense. Deep down she knew that sooner or later she would have to face whatever is out there. She took a ragged breath and mustered her strength to force one eye open. Her vision blurred. It was a dark, wet place; metallic and cold. Antigone tried to move her arms, but they were bound so tightly behind her that she thought her shoulders would snap.

'Untie me please,' Antigone tried to unhinge her jaw. 'Untie ... Oww'. A hot sting shot across Antigone's thighs. The cane whistled as it whipped through the air and cut into her legs. Now she was gasping for breath and wide awake. Two dark shapes loomed above her but just as suddenly the pain blurred and again, she was riding a wave of euphoria. The rocking motion of the Empress was like a comforting blanket and the distant muddy voices were pleasant memories of school and messing quietly during the long German lessons with Charlotte and Jane. Even with the pale awareness of engines chugging and the deadening of her arms, what is happening does not register.

It could have been seconds or hours, but a thread of worry seeped from her subconscious, I need to wake up.

Antigone cracked open an eyelid again and giggled, 'dumpling'.

'Vot ... vot ... vot did she say?' the dumpling screeched. 'Dummkoff, can you do nothink right, I don't vant her delirious you idiot'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'But Boss, you told me to smack her,' the English voice said dryly.

Antigone tried to move her gaze to the door, but pain pounded her brain.

Nausea lled her nostrils and without hysterics, she vomited toast, tea, beans, and egg all over their shoes.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

## CHAPTER TWELVE

### TOM

To lose one parent may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness.

Oscar Wilde

Tom hovered outside the chapel. Through the stain-glass doors, he could just about make out two old biddies chatting to Father O'Conner.

Tom had a message to deliver to Miss Antigone. He had been to her cabin, to the dining room and second-class deck but with no luck. The chapel was his last resort. As far as he could see, almost everyone had left but it was not worth his job to barge in on account of a letter. Tom hopped from foot to foot.

I quite like that Antigone girl. Bit posh for second-class. Pearl is a recracker. Just like al girls, tough on the outside but soft underneath, he thought. I wonder if we could be friends?

Tom had a sister, but she had immigrated to America a long time ago and his cousin Marigold died last year in childbirth, crying shame, he thought, she was sixteen and just at the beginning of her life. As soon as the thought touched his mind, Tom felt the familiar tightening around his heart. It was a feeling that was always there; like a pair of hands just lightly holding on. Anything could make them squeeze harder. Anything at all.

Ever since Tom's dad died two years ago, and Marigold last year, he was completely on his own.

Tom rocked back and forth from his toes to his heels absorbed in searching out a pleasant memory of his Father but to be honest, there were too many to narrow it down, at least Dad loved me, there ain't many that can say that h

e t

hought solemnly. He rocked back on his heels again, but a sudden lurch of the ship catapulted him forward and for a split-second, he was ying across the room.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Vatch it gutter shnipe,' a short man with cherubic cheeks and a pillow-like double chin, shoved Tom with tremendous force. Tom's head bounced off the panelled wall, but he was less shocked about his collision than the strength of the half-sized man who stood over him, leering.

'You zink a clean face and new suit can hide who you veally are; horrid wretch!' the short man stabbed at Tom with his walking stick.

'Alright boss let's keep moving,' the skilamalink said. The chubby man looked down on Tom with daggers in his eyes and then spat on the carpet.

Tom was in shock. Too shocked to respond. He was frozen on the oor, stunned, as the two men; one tall and sinewy, the other round and squat continued down the hallway.

'Oh, dear, dear, dear,' cooed the old ladies together. They had opened the chapel doors just in time to see Tom jabbed. The younger of the two ladies held out a papery hand. Tom declined and gingerly eased himself up—

'Thanks, Madam, but I will pull you down with me and that would be even worse'.

'That beast of a man deserves to be court-martialled for hurting a child,' said the second lady. Tom felt his eyes begin to well. For all his bravado, a kind word would shatter his facade. He was not used to kindness. He was used to surviving.

'Take this dear,' the younger lady handed him her pink handkerchief to dab his cut lip.

'Don't worry yourself, sweet boy. Some people who have too much money, care too little and, he, my dear, is one of those,' the second lady said picking up his tray and letter.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

Tom looked down at the letter a little bewildered. It was addressed to Miss Antigone Finch. He noted the exotic handwriting; how the letters curled off the page like music. And then, like a collision, everything came together in his mind. The skilamalink with the cane chasing Miss Antigone was the same man who had literally been standing in front of him with the podgy, nasty geezer. The two men were partners and the fat one had given Tom the letter to take to Pearl's cabin.

Tom gazed at the letter. It was from Mr. Bloom requesting Antigone see him immediately. Tom knew Pearl and Mr. Bloom were friends of sorts; he had seen her sneaking into to his rst-class rooms.

Tom didn't have typical schooling, he had something that kept him alive – street smarts, people smarts, and his sharp mind worked together the pieces of a bigger puzzle. All he knew for certain was that Miss Antigone was missing and if it had anything to do with the man who just accosted him, then she was in danger.

'Alright, dear? You are looking a bit pale,' the younger lady bought a monocle to her eye to inspect Tom closer.

'I think he has had enough for one day, Vivienne,' the second lady said to her sister, 'anyway I am ravenous, time for tea. Goodbye young man and do be careful'. She put a little silver coin into Tom's hand and toddled off towards the dining room but at the last minute she turned with a mischievous grin, 'in my mind I call those two fellows Bubble and Squeak, perhaps it would serve you to think of them as such'.

Tom smiled but his mind was feverish. Not only had the thin-lipped one had blood on his hands, but the short one smelt decisively of something sharp, putrid; vomit T

om thought, but not his own I'l wage. He launched himself into the chapel.

'Ah, young Tom. I am afraid you missed our service this morning'. The Priest's face clouded, 'looking decidedly peaky, didn't knock your head, did you?'

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'No ... well ... yes ... Sir ... Father,' Tom ran his eyes around the room hoping that Miss Antigone might still be there.

'Did you notice a girl with sort of ... creamy-coloured hair?' Tom raced on 'about ve foot six, a bit taller than me, and she would have been alone I suppose'. Tom poked his head outside the doors and scanned the corridor.

'Young lady left the service early,' said Father O'Conner, 'shame really, I am sure she would have enjoyed, All Creatures Great and Small; all the girls do'.

'Was she alone Father?' Tom's feet itched to run.

'No, I believe a gentleman, a rather ...' Father O'Conner cleared his throat, 'I don't want to be rude, but between you and me, a rather rough-looking fellow left with her, or perhaps a moment later. Is there something I should be worried about?'

Tom dashed out of the doors and into the corridor, 'I'm not sure, Father, but I will keep you posted'. He started sprinting but stopped mid-stride and whirled around. His hair stood on end, but Father O'Conner held back on commenting. Something was wrong with the boy.

'One more question, Father, what do you make of someth'n in the bible about books bein' opened and the dead bein' judged?'

The Priest's face lit up like Christmas lights, 'ah, I see you are a scholar and a gentleman young man, could it be: and the books were opened: and another book was opened, which is the book of life: and the dead were judged out of those things which were written in the books'.

Tom nodded eagerly.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'It is a fascinating part of the Bible. Worth a read,' Father O'Conner stopped short, 'I do beg your pardon – if you can read, that is'. It occurred to him that it would be unlikely that someone like Tom could read. From what he knew, the boy had an abysmal childhood. He cleared his throat,

'simply put, it means that every thought and action you have is recorded in a Heavenly book. Every man must be judged upon his time of death by what is written in the book'.

Tom was on his toes again ready to sprint.

'Now if you ask the scholar, I would tell you that there is another such book, but it resides in our earthly realm. It is said to be not one book but nine with many universal mysteries explained. It is the Holy Grail to us scholars. It could, of course, be nonsense, but many have spent entire lifetimes searching for them'.

Tom backed away, 'thanks Father'.

Father O'Conner stepped back into the Chapel and the doors folded closed quietly behind him. Tom's question was unexpected. So indeed, were all the questions, not to mention Tom's skittish behaviour. A furrow pulled at the edges of Father O'Conner's eyebrows, perhaps I wil make inquiries. Something is not right'.



'So, let me get this straight,' Pearl put down Antigone's Brownie camera which she had been trying to work for the past hour.

'Yous...'

'You,' Ravi corrected.

'You reckon...'.

'You believe,' Ravi corrected.

'You believe that them villains ...'

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'You believe that those villains,' Ravi was getting annoyed but not as annoyed as Pearl—.

'I swear if you interrupt me one more time, Ravi Bloom, I will have you downgraded to third class, see how you like that. You can teach the commoners how to talk proper,' Pearl deliberately misused words, but Ravi was driving her demented.

'I shall attempt to restrain myself,' Ravi said sarcastically.

'Good grief! You two are behaving like children, just get on with it,'

Viresh's body folded into the small space between the door and the sink.

The situation was uncomfortable on several levels.

'True right, Viresh. Now I need to get this straight in my head. You think that these villains who attacked you in your digs, have followed us all the way from London, boarded this ship and are currently trying to kill me,' Pearl noticed Viresh's gaze remained resolutely on the bed, oh my giddy aun ,t she felt a hot blush of humiliation lace her cheeks and neck.

She pulled down Antigone's dripping stockings and garter belt that were hanging over the sink and stuffed them under her pillow.

'Correct,' Viresh exhaled with relief.

'Confoundingly small room, how do you cope?' Ravi grimaced as he tried to look out from Antigone's bunk. A stocking toe dangled down and dripped onto the oor.

'And,' Pearl continued 'it has something to do with this very valuable, and may I say ugly stone that you insist I wear around my neck'.

'Correct,' Viresh con rmed.

This is weird, Viresh, is being the mature one for once, Pearl thought.

She watched Ravi's allergic reaction to all the girl type matter scattered around the room. Her tummy tightened, it was not her fault that the room was so small, that there was nowhere to store their belongings neatly—

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'You should have booked me a better room if you don't like what you see'.

Ravi opened his mouth but Viresh shook his head, warning Ravi to tread carefully. It was obvious that Pearl was becoming overwhelmed.

After all she was not trained in self-defence or espionage, or even dealing with Ravi's mood swings. She was a maid. Albeit a quick-witted, and wilful girl but a maid, nonetheless.

'You have me risking life and limb wearing this thing because you think they will search your room rst,' Pearl eyeballed them both. 'Where do, you rich people, usually keep your jewels? Stuffed under a mattress, in a secret compartment?' Pearl narrowed her eyes, 'or maybe you get some stupid girl to carry it around for you'. The atmosphere stiffened and then slowly decompressed.

'I reckon I need a pay rise,' Pearl sniffed.

'I couldn't agree more and for the record, you have been exceptional.

I am not at liberty to share with you the true value of the stone, except to say that at this moment it is the most dangerous and the most precious thing on earth,' Ravi's eyes were a deep brown again. A mist-shrouded brown, Pearl could not see into. If the eyes were the window to the soul, Ravi's window was rmly shut. She scratched her head.

'You are our subterfuge, my dear,' Viresh said kindly.

'You're what?'

'You are our subterfuge, our ploy, ruse, trick, you are ...' Ravi trailed off.

'You are our Godsend'.

Pearl sniffed, 'so, you need me?'

Ravi nodded and Pearl's mood lifted in a heartbeat. She grinned from ear to ear.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'We need you more than ever and may I add, we are more grateful than ever,' Ravi needed to wind this conversation up. There was much to think about and much to do.

Pearl looked at the letter, 'but what about this nasty thing? Why did they write about the book of life and all that? Gives me the chills just thinking about it'.

Ravi's face clouded. He sighed, 'it means that whoever wants the stone knows a lot more than we originally thought, a lot more than even I knew about – until this morning'.

'Sahib?'

The time between the turn levers of Viresh's pocket watch was slow.

Thick, soft space between the tock and the tick, and then the tick and the tock vibrated in what was normally, a deep comforting way. Now, the tock-tick, tock-tick was more like a Chihuahua's insistent, pitchy whine.

Pearl and Viresh glanced at each other. They could not allow Ravi to lose concentration—

'Sahib, time is against us'.

Ravi rubbed his eyes, 'the question is what are we going to do about Miss Finch?'

'We have to nd her straight away and tell her everything,' Pearl bent to buckle her boots.

'Yes, but how to tell her and not tell her at the same time,' Ravi mused.

Pearl narrowed her eyes and planted her hands rmly on her hips. A trademark expression—

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'She is going to have to know everything – and so am I – if we want to survive this'. Pearl's rose-tinted glasses were getting scratched and foggy; was she losing faith in Ravi being al -powerful

? She searched Ravi's eyes

again. How could she truly trust him, if she couldn't read him? S

he looked,

this time with the sight, and searched beyond the mist. It was hard, he had defences, but she spied something different. If truth be told, it was impossible to know for sure. Was he scared? S

he tried to go deeper but

Ravi blocked her.

'I agree, you must be informed – of everything – but at the right time.

For now, though, there is pressing work to be done'.

Pearl instantly regretted using her sight to invade Ravi. It was like breaking into someone's home, when that someone was home. It was just that, usually, no one was ever home. Pearl and Ravi stood at the same time and found themselves not half a centimetre apart. Ravi ung open the door—

'Viresh you and I will check if Miss Finch has arrived at our rooms as requested. As for you Pearl,' Ravi was overcome with irritation, 'wait here and if she appears, bring her to me immediately. He stood in the doorframe with his back to Pearl. His spine rigid.

'There's nothing more we can do at this moment except wait,' Ravi dropped his head and sighed irritably, 'and for goodness sake; be careful'.

Viresh wavered at the door, his moustache twitched like a cat's tail.

'What's wrong, Viresh? You be looking pale,' Pearl felt his forehead and frowned, 'no temperature; perhaps sea-sick, the storm was awful rough'.

'Miss Pearl,' Viresh started. Pearl looked at him with her clear bright eyes. There was such honesty in them that Viresh wanted to protect her from any more hardship or pain. She was streetwise but also fragile and innocent.

'About Mr. Bloom ... Ravi,' Viresh began.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Yes,' Pearl jumped to attention.

The way she responded to Ravi's name was unsettling. The poor child was smitten.

'You should not have done that. You should not have entered his mind'.

Pearl swallowed a lump. She was not going to cry, 'I know – it's just that – that – I never know what's really going on – inside him'. She hiccupped.

'I have known Ravi Bloom for many years since he was a child. I know him. I know more about him than he knows about himself,' Viresh gestured for Pearl to sit down on the window seat and gingerly folded his knees to the oor. He cupped her hands in his. Pearl knew when to hold her tongue.

'How shall I put this?' Viresh closed his eyes and took a long breath.

'Ravi does not fully inhabit this world, he is special. He is apart from you and me'. Pearl looked blank.

'It is not in his nature to be affectionate; do you understand what I'm trying to say?'

'Nope,' Pearl shook her head.

'Oh dear, I am not sure I can enlighten you,' Viresh's knees creaked with the ship's gentle roll. 'Ravi Bloom is his own man. He will never belong to another or pledge his heart to another. His heart lies in the sky, in the universe, with the stars and the moons'.

After a long moment, Pearl asked, 'do you mean Ravi is with God?'

'God is but a word, there are many words that mean the same and yes Pearl, you are right. His heart belongs to God. He is, what we call in India a Magi. A Magi one who can enter the astral planes, conscious – fully aware – it is a complex matter and not one...'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

Pearl opened her mouth to interrupt.

'And not one to explore today'. Viresh patted Pearl on the hand. She sat stock-still but Viresh imagined her mind whirring like a telegraph connection. Messages being delivered right and left, forward and back trying to make sense of this strange, new information. Before she could ask a single question, he slipped from the room.

Magni cent potentia ,l Viresh thought to himself as he hurried back to his own suite, she is like a star waiting to be born.



Tom catapulted himself down the stairs and through the warren of corridors. He turned into the Kalidasa Leisure Room and plummeted into a noisy sea of Irish mammies and children travelling to India to meet their husbands. They were a decent bunch unless you crossed them.

'Excuse me, Madam,' Tom stood on his tiptoes. 'Pardon me,' he tried edging in from the side. 'Excuse me, pardon me,' Tom ran a hand through his hair, annoyed. Not a single mammy bothered to acknowledge him. He was used to being ignored but each moment of this delay was excruciating. Tom felt a tug on his sleeve. Looking up at him was a small boy with enormous blue eyes and red freckles covering every spare inch of his pale skin. The boy tipped his head towards a tiny rectangular door. It was partially disguised by a re blanket and map of the ship. Tom instantly remembered the warning he got during induction: Use strictly in an emergency and when I say emergency, I mean the bloody ship better be going down.

'You ain't been down there?' Tom frowned.

'May have had a sconce,' the boy tucked his hands in his pocket like a man about town. Tom glanced at the plaque: Strictly No Admittance. He raised an eyebrow.

'Tell me where you want to go, fellah, I can get you anywhere just like that,' the boy clicked his ngers.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'I need to get down below and double fast,' Tom stood on his toes again. The crowd of mammies was still thick and impenetrable.

'Know me way round them tunnels like the back of me hand,' the boy said.

'What tunnels?'

'The stairs and all that's down below,' the child said scathingly.

'What are you – four – ve?'

'Daft eejit, I'm six and if you want to get past this lot you better follow me,' the child took two discrete steps to the left and leaned casually against the wall. Tom tried the handle. It moved smoothly under his grip.

Damp, stale air from the stairwell hit his face. It was almost pitch but just enough light seeped in around the wall joints for him to make his way safely down.

'What are you waiting for? Come on, it's a load of fun,' the boy sprinted out of view.

'Alright Clancy,' Tom heard the boy say.

'Alright Padraig'.

'Showing some auld fella, the ropes. Got himself lost he did,' the boy said matter-of-factly.

'No bother Padraig but be careful alright. The boss has a bad head today, he's in a foul mood'.

Tom descended the slippery stairs as fast and carefully as he could.

The dim lighting and dripping of condensation put him in mind of a fairy-tale where goblins shuttled coal and diamonds through dirty underground caverns. He caught up to Padraig and Clancy.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Best be off then, you two watch yourselves like I said the boss is on the war-path,' Clancy doffed his grubby cap and discreetly looked over Tom's clean, starched uniform. Tom felt a pang of guilt. His job was easier, and he got tips and bits of extra food, but Clancy was covered in coal dust and doing twelve-hour shifts. Tom wanted to say something to set things right.

Tom said, 'everything alright for you down here? Do they treat you rightly?'

'It's grand, not a bother, but I'm dead tired for me bed, I'll see ye round ...'

'Tom, Tom Cox, from London,' Tom put out his hand. Clancy wiped his sooty hand on his lthy trousers and tentatively reached for Tom. He had never shaken hands before.

'Clancy Fahey, all the way from Dublin in Ireland,' his teeth glowed an eerie bluish in the half-light. 'Take it easy on them last few steps. For some reason, there are a lot of pesky puddles. I got boots but you would get soaked through,' Clancy tugged the brim of his at cap and pulled himself wearily up the stairs. Padraig had scuttled into the dark nooks and crannies of the ship's underbelly. Tom was alone. He jumped over the last two stairs making sure to hold onto the handrail. Heavy grinding of engines and steam came from behind a closed metal door directly to his left. On his right, an ominous corridor snaked into darkness. Tom swallowed. It looked darn scary but as it was his only option, he took it.

Tom's eyes didn't adjust to the dead light. He had to feel his way down the corridor. By his reckoning, another set of stairs to third class should appear soon. He ran his ngers along the wall just in case he missed the doorway and the last grey shadows evaporated into the darkness.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

Tom's shoes crunched and slid on broken glass, ' what the heck?' he jumped back. He could just about see the entrails of an industrial light hanging from the wall. They were spaced every fteen feet. Hard enough to smash, he thought. The lights were protected by wire mesh and smashing the bulb would take considerable force. There was no way Chief Engineer would allow a single light bulb to blow. All corridors had to be properly lit in case of an emergency. The light had been deliberately smashed and not long ago. Each light would have been checked at 06:00

hours. That meant that whoever did it was here, after 06:00 and before 11:00. Tom wiped a trickle of sweat off his face. His hand was shaking. He looked back down the corridor. The meagre light was now nothing more than grey fog, and in front of him, pure darkness. Tom shuddered and picked his way through the glass as quietly as possible.

Whatever I need to d ,

o Tom thought. Whatever I neeeeeee ...' W

ith a

great urry of hands and legs cycling in space, and the ceiling now parallel to his whole levitating body, Tom's brain nally caught up. His arms ailed to a grip onto something solid, but his head made rst contact with the wall. The sound of bone on steel pulsed down the corridor in an unsatisfying, lifeless sort of thud. Tom had tried his hardest to break the rest of the fall, but his wrist snared on something icy cold. He was partially hanging, partially heaped, and seriously confused. Amongst the chaos of white light in his skull, metallic ringing in his ears and surge of nausea, time slowed down to painstaking eternity. Tom hung in an awkward position. Every movement caused pain to shoot down his wrist.

Like a dog who would chew off its own leg to escape a trap, Tom had no choice but to endure the pain and unhinge his wrist to break free. He eased it out of a horizontal, steel pipe that tted snugly into the wall. If he hadn't slipped, he would never have noticed it. His breath trembled with effort, but Tom managed to stay calm. He ran eyes over the shape. It was a door handle. Tom cautiously put weight on the handle and felt it smoothly detach from the lock. Excitement built in his chest. It wasn't rational, but he had a strong sense that Miss Antigone was in there. No sooner had he stepped in the room, then the stench of vomit and blood hit his nostrils. He gasped.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Miss Antigone ... Antigone ... Miss Finch ... it's me ... Tom,' he reached out to feel her head. It was burning. A good sign Tom thought. She was strapped to the chair, her arms bound behind her. Oh heck, Tom wheeled around and checked the door terri ed that someone would lock him in too.

'Miss Antigone,' Tom whispered. He slid his hands around her cheeks and lifted her face. It was so dark, but he knew it was her.

'Tom?' even though her throat was parched, Antigone scratched out his name.

'Come on girl, we have to get you out of here,' Tom had never untied a person before, and he had never touched a girl before. Right now, he was doing both with exceptional skill even though his wrist throbbed. The ropes came off easily and he had Antigone in a rm hold within seconds.

Antigone tried to moisten her lips, her mouth was bone dry, 'listen'

she croaked. Tom stopped struggling to keep her on her feet and cursed under his breath. From the darkness of the corridor, they could hear three repeating sounds, tap-tap-thud, tap-tap-thud.

'It's him – it's him,' Antigone whispered hysterically.

'Shhh,' Tom let Antigone slide down onto the wet oor in the corridor, 'it's going to be ne – just don't move, don't breathe,' Tom closed the door silently and hunkered down next to her.

Tap-tap-thud, Tap-tap-thud; the waiting felt both rapid and endless.

The shoes and cane came to a halt in Tom's eye line and turned to face the door.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

Tom had to think quickly and use his street smarts. The man pulled the handle upwards and the door sprung open. Tom thought his heart would pound out of his chest. He thought every man and his dog could hear it but even if they could, Tom was on the move. He catapulted his skinny body forward and shouldered the man into the room. The man lost grip on his cane and stumbled forward. Tom didn't waste time; he slammed the door shut and pushed the handle down hard. It was rmly locked and couldn't be opened from the inside. For now, they were safe.

'Come on Miss Antigone, let's get out of here'. Tom lifted Antigone to her feet as best he could and steered her back towards the engine room where there was light.

'I'm starving,' Antigone whispered through dry lips.

'Well we ain't having bubble and squeak, that's for sure'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

## CHAPTER THIRTEEN

### THE DEBRIEF

Not a single man can erase what is written by Destiny.

Anonymous

After baths and a large lunch, Tom and Antigone snuggled under a mound of soft blankets in Ravi Bloom's suite.

'I must say, my dear boy, we are greatly indebted to you, but your table manners are appalling,' Ravi indicated that Tom should take his feet off the coffee table. No matter how critical he was, Ravi had a way of disguising it in a warm hug of words.

'Mildred says I got manners of a King,' Tom smiled through a mouthful of dessert. He dragged his feet back to the oor.

'Who is, Mildred, then?' Pearl asked curiously.

'Mildred is the cook at the last place I worked; she said I had the nest manners she had ever come across'.

'I expect she meant you were one of the nicest boys she had ever come across and that is undisputed, isn't that right Viresh,' Ravi winked at Viresh.

'Couldn't agree more,' Viresh kept his eyes away from the spray of crumbs shooting from Tom's mouth.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'You had enough to eat, you're still looking a bit pale,' Pearl squinted her eyes as though seeing Antigone through a different lens would make her look healthier. That was a bad move. Antigone was exhausted and irritated. She wanted everyone to stop asking questions and vanish. She didn't want to go back to her room either. She wanted Ravi's nice room and the giant bathtub. She wanted to be herself again. She pushed down the urge to make a nasty comment.

'Will you try to describe how you feel? After all it was a horrendous ordeal. Terrifying. Might be useful to talk it over,' Ravi suggested.

Antigone smoothed the blanket on her knees with slow deliberation.

She let Ravi's comment hang in the air and die. Her expression stiffened.

She viewed his comment as ludicrous. She certainly wasn't in this position of her own volition. It was not her choice to share a cabin with Pearl. Nor her choice to be physically abused. She wanted to stomp and throw something. To throw anything at Ravi's lovely, lovely face.

Antigone answered in a cold voice, 'It is not your privilege to ask anything of me – especially – how I feel'. The air electri ed, but she didn't feel like being a polite young lady. Instead, she let the silence and tightness linger like a cat playing with a mouse. It was a eeting moment of strength. Antigone was learning that nothing was black and white. That the way she felt about marriage and Charles had been child's play. These new sensations of rage, de ance, euphoria, and vulnerability were happening at the same time, vying for dominance. It was impossible to remain angry when all she wanted to do was laugh.

Tom asked, 'you alright?'

Antigone squeezed her eyes shut and reached for the handkerchief Ravi had loaned her. It was soaked through, but she was determined not to cry again. Except that her nose was beginning to prickle, and she so desperately wanted to be angry. Ravi untangled his legs and slid down into the plush cushions next to Antigone. He was awfully close. The smell was familiar, cloves and cinnamon. Something triggered.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

Antigone closed her eyes. Her brain was tangled, 'déjà vu'. She clutched at a memory. It was so close. Teasing her. Antigone's face screwed up in concentration.

'Oh, my giddy aunt,' Pearl crossed herself 'what's she going to do next?' She looked at Ravi, 'I told her, I told her I did. That girl,' Pearl pointed at Antigone, 'be under psychic attack'. Pearl shuf ed to the far end of the couch still vigorously crossing herself. Viresh stared at her as though she had three heads.

'Whatcha staring at, ain't you ever heard of a ...'

'Ha!' Antigone leapt to her feet, 'I knew it. I knew that I had met you before. Although met is not the right word'. Antigone pointed a nger at Pearl and her voice was full of spite, 'you publicly shamed me. Do you remember? You were horrid'.

'Yar, I got that same feeling that we met but I never shamed no-one,'

Pearl found an interesting stain on her skirt that needed close examination.

'You humiliated me in front of a lot of people. Memory returning is it?

Ravi, you had a top-knot and it was touching the ceiling of the ...'

'Tram,' Viresh nodded as though the lost pieces of a complicated puzzle were falling into place, 'no one can erase the Writ of Destiny'.

'I ain't going to ask what that means,' Pearl hugged herself. She was defensive. Ravi's attention was rmly focused on Antigone and she did not like that. She did not like being accused of anything or being ignored.

'Settle down petal, Viresh just means that it was fate that you all met on the tram,' Tom said simply.

'Many people believe that we are destined to meet certain people at certain times for a particular reason,' Ravi turned to Antigone, 'what do you think about that, Miss Finch?'

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'What do I think?' Antigone looked around the room. Right now, she was over-excited and tremendously chaotic. She was exhilarated—

'I feel dangerous, and in danger, and it's confusing. I don't feel like myself. I have always been controlled by others, and now, now I have this opportunity to be in control of myself – but somehow, I'm not in control at all. You say that we met through some pre-existing agreement that none of us were aware of until now. You are saying that I am involved in all of this,' Antigone gestured around the room, 'because it was fate and that is out of my control'.

Antigone's body shuddered, 'I feel,' she said mustering courage, 'that you are in control and I have no free will. You have put me in danger'.

Antigone was untangling threads of confusion and it felt good to put words to them, 'and I feel dangerous because I am not sure how I will react, what I will do next, what I will think. I don't think I am the person I thought I was. I don't know who I am'.

After a gigantic pause, Ravi broke the silence, 'I must confess, I pushed you to describe to me your feelings in the hope of understanding who you are, but I realise that you are many things that are yet to come'.

'Um, what?' Pearl sat upright.

'Miss Antigone Finch is many things that are yet to come, like a chrysalis waiting to hatch – it does not matter now where you are from or who you are. It matters who you will become, and I believe,' Ravi looked at Viresh meaningfully, 'that you will discover who you are very soon'.

'Now your fate is blended with ours, my dear, and none of us were expecting you,' Viresh said in a kind way, 'such a pleasant surprise. We have much to tell you and it will happen in time but rst it is important that you provide us with the horrible details of your kidnapping'.

'Alright I will, just once and then I want to forget it forever,' Antigone might not have known exactly who she was, but she still knew what she wanted, and it was still to be left alone.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'I was taking a walk on the deck, not thinking about anything really, I didn't have a route, I was just walking. I was thinking about why I was outside rather than at the chapel service. There was a man sitting next to me, very close and he smelt putrid,' Antigone wrinkled her nose, 'he smelt like camphor balls and stale tobacco. He was too close to me, so I left the service early'.

'Go on, you are doing very well, my dear,' Viresh said.

'The next thing I remember was being frozen and damp. My head was aching, and I could not see much, there was ashing in my eyes. The men – they hit me in the head – to knock me out I suppose – the pain'.

Antigone touched the soggy dent in her skull. Pearl winced.

'You say them, was there more than one?' Ravi was pacing the room now, excitement tingling through him.

'Oh yes there was two of them, German, I think. At least one of them was because he was speaking with an accent'.

'What did he say then?' asked Tom, through a mouthful of fresh bread.

'He said: slap her harder ,and the other man did. Then I passed out.

That is all I remember until I woke up in the dark to Tom untying me. He was superb and – well you know the rest'.

Tom's face lit up brightly, thanks, Miss Antigone'.

'Was there anything you noticed about the men, physically I mean?'

Ravi pushed on gently. They needed to compare facts.

Tom chewed on the fresh bread. Antigone stared at him—

'Dough,' she said slowly, 'he looked doughy and smudgy' she sat upright, 'short and chubby like a baby but in a man's body'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'And the other?' asked Pearl, 'but I know exactly what you're going to say'.

'Tall with a nasty face,' Antigone shuddered, 'I don't know which one was more frightening'.

'It was the tall one we got, locked him in we did,' Tom piped in and took another bite. 'I know him. His boss...the fat one...pushed me round a bit earlier...had vomit on his shoes,' Tom said while chewing and swallowing. 'Somehow, I just connected them with Miss Antigone. Don't ask me how'.

'Clever boy and brave too. We are all indebted to you,' Ravi said earnestly. 'Did the man see who pushed him into the room? Did he have any idea it was you, Tom?'

'Na, he didn't know what hit him,' Tom grinned.

'Good. Then I think it best that you three say here while Viresh and I check the girl's cabin and perhaps stay there,' Ravi said decisively, 'see what the night brings'.

'Have you gone mad? These people are killers. They would have nished you off in London if I hadn't have arrived in a nick of time. I got a threat under me door and Antigone, took a beating. I guarantee they will stop at nothing to get what they want – and they want this,' Pearl tugged the stone off her neck. 'I want to help you, Ravi, I really do, but this is getting out of hand – I don't think I can protect it – especially now that Antigone and Tom are in danger'. Pearl pushed a lock of hair out of her eyes, 'and what's all this about the Book of Life? Are they using the devil against us? Are they using magic, black magic? I am honest to God frightened now'.

'Your immortal soul is safe and sound Pearl; indeed, all your souls are safe, the quotation is a very clever reference to another book. An Indian book that should have remained a secret. It contains powerful information. If the secrets in this book become known, it will change the world forever'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Why is that then? What makes a book so dangerous?'

'Good question Tom – it is the human desire for power that makes it dangerous. The human desire to control, to be all-powerful, to be like God'.

'But how? What is that word ... hypothetically. Hypothetically what is in that book that can be used to make someone all-powerful?'

Ravi fell still and silent—

'I trust you all, every one of you in this room but if I tell you, even hypothetically, you will be in mortal danger,' Ravi scratched his chin. 'But then again, if I tell you, you will be prepared'.

Tom thought that Mr. Bloom, could take a year to decide what to do so he reached for a cupcake. He dropped it face down on the oor when Ravi spoke again—

'Hypothetically, the book is about mass indoctrination'.

'Come again?' Pearl's pink colour returned.

'It means that someone can shape your mind to suit themselves.

They could get a person to kill, to do their bidding and without hesitation, without using their own judgement. This means that one man or one woman alone could brainwash an entire country, the entire planet'.

'Ow, I get it! You mean brainwashing. I seen something like it at the theatre. Some geezer on stage got one of the audience, an awld cocky fella, to crow like a rooster. It was awful funny, but I couldn't for the life of me work out how he come to do it,' Pearl stated. Ravi turned to Viresh—

'Do remind me Viresh, when this is all over, to send this young heathen to nishing school'.

'Top priority Sir'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'It seems impossible that one man could hypnotize an entire country,' Antigone mused.

'I can't tell you anymore because we don't know anymore. Until now these books have only been suspected to exist'.

'Righty ho, I better get meself off then,' Tom dropped the blankets in a scruffy pile.

'Where are you off to? I thought the plan was for us three to stay here,' Pearl's instincts homed in on Tom. He had been munching and adding his two cents to the conversation. All very non-descript. He had been clever and brave rescuing Antigone; but really, who was he?

'I'll be back in a bit; I need to make an appearance before they chuck me off the ship. Never did learn to swim. Right then, toodle-oo'.

'Toodle-oo,' Pearl said dryly to the closed door. Viresh noticed her mood change.

'We must trust him, what choice do we have?' Viresh soothed, 'he also has a part to play in this game'.

Pearl heard Viresh, but her attention was now rmly focused on Ravi who was sliding wisps of hair off Antigone's face.

'Bruises are going to be on the blue side I am afraid. Any inside cuts or chipped teeth?' Ravi leaned in closer to Antigone. Pearl felt her hackles rise but was determined to remain ladylike.

Ravi touched the swelling on Antigone's cut lip.

I must look and smel hideous. I wish he would move away. This is so awkward; A

ntigone could feel blood heating up her cheeks and wasn't sure where to look. Ravi was very close. And comfortable being close.

Antigone lifted her eyes to his, but they revealed nothing. He was like a blank canvas.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

Pearl snorted, 'you might have to toughen up a bit Princess – if you plan to get caught up in all this'.

Antigone pushed Ravi aside, 'I beg your pardon?' She suspected Pearl fancied Ravi Bloom, but she didn't expect her to be so possessive.

'I said you'd better toughen up,' Pearl squirmed.

'Not that bit, the other part?'

'What?' Pearl was beginning to turn pink; again.

'You called me a princess,' Antigone stood up, 'and I don't like what you're implying'. Viresh opened his mouth but Ravi shook his head.

'Well, look at you all puffed up, with your nice clothes and big round eyes, you know nothing about the world,' Pearl wrung her hands together. Antigone could tell she didn't mean to go this far, but she must have been thinking it all this time. Antigone could have chosen at that moment to be mature and civil but after the past few days, a tidal wave of rage ripped into her. The trauma of being kidnapped, the lack of sleep and her absolute aloneness cracked the hard shell of etiquette.

'Ow, you cow,' Pearl growled.

Antigone stared trans xed at the red handprint, but just for a moment. As far as she was concerned Pearl deserved everything she got.

Anyway, it felt good—

'Would you mind, Mr. Bloom, if I had another cup of tea?'

Pearl harrumphed and made a show of rubbing her cheek. She stalked out with her head held high and a failed slam of the door; ruddy rst-class hinges, bloom'n rich people and ipping Antigone Finch!

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

## CHAPTER FOURTEEN

### STALKING TIGERS

Below deck in the servant's quarters, Tom was being demoted.

'You'll be down in the kitchens on washing up duty,' his supervisor said. 'Then we will review your position in Bombay,' Tom nodded absently.

It was clear to his supervisor that something was not right with the boy; he was usually cheerful and fresh-faced.

'You alright Son?' the supervisor put his hand on Tom's shoulder.

Shame he thought to himself, he is just a child – needs his Dad around'.

But sadly, for Tom, there was no Father or Mother for that matter. Tom ddled with something in his pocket.

'Oh yes, yes thank you, Sir, I'm ne, just an off day is all,' Tom liked the older man and trusted him too. If Tom was going con de and come clean, it would be to his supervisor – but when have I ever come clean, he thought.

'Right then,' the supervisor looked concerned, 'take the rest of the afternoon off, get yourself together and shift begins at 05:00 sharp'.

Tom trudged to his dormitory. He was well used to looking after himself. He was used to being canny to make ends meet. Tom didn't think of himself as a thief though. He was a survivor. And he did what needed to be done. Most of the time he took small things, that he could sell on swiftly; pocket watches, coins, once he even took a Persian cat. He still felt bad about that one, but he got a pure fortune for her, a whole pound. It was in his nature to take what he needed; but did he really need this?

Tom sat on his bunk bed and took the stone out of his pocket, ugly looking thing ,he thought, but it could be usefu .l He could make a few bob selling it onto the German geezer. But how could he after what happened to Miss Antigone. Not to mention how nice Mr. Bloom had been with all the cake, imagine me sitting there with the likes of them – if only me dad could have seen it.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

On one hand, Tom felt like he was making real friends but on the other hand, he hardly knew Pearl and Miss Antigone. He liked them a lot but owed them nothing. Tom took a heavy sigh and slipped the stone back in his pocket. He would hold onto it and decide what to do later.

Viresh waddled after Pearl. She had spoken out of turn, but it was a pleasant surprise to see a well-bred girl like Miss Antigone give over to her animal instincts.

'Viresh thinks you sense a bit of competition,' he said affably in the small cabin. Pearl was carefully refolding her clothes, determined not to look at him.

'I'm not spending another night with the trollop,' Pearl said matter-of-factly.

'Tut-tut, that is a very poor thing to say. On occasions, it is appropriate to think such a thing, but think –. is it right to use such nasty language?'

'Not you too? I can't take another bad thing happening today,' Pearl shoved her clothes into a carpet-bag. 'Don't you think that giving me a hard slap for no other reason but calling her a ruddy Princess is worse than calling her trollop? I mean. there are plenty of worse things I could have said, like ...'

'Enough. Now sit'. Viresh knew that from time to time, a person simply needs to be told what to do. They need to be steered away from impulsive behaviour. Dangerous behaviour, and Pearl was on the verge of doing something regrettable.

Pearl sat and opened her mouth but Viresh hushed her. His scrutiny burned through her skin. She knew he could see everything: insecurity, fear, doubt.

'Feel better?' Viresh asked not so kindly.

'No'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Good'.

Pearl's face creased, 'that's mean'.

'A teacher will push a student to reach their potential'.

'Not your student. Never had no teacher'.

'Alright, not your teacher but may I ask a question?'

'Suppose'.

Pearl, do you understand the difference between right and wrong thought – the difference between right and wrong speech?'

Pearl dropped her gaze and mumbled.

'Without proper care, something else will inhabit your body; inhabit your mind. Your mind can be a garden full of weeds and nettles. Or, an orderly botanical masterpiece'.

Pearl gulped and wiped away a tear, 'I prefer forests'.

'Well then – let it be a forest with many clear pathways'.

Pearl nodded and Viresh squeezed into the window seat next to her,

'we must strive to be pure in thought and speech. 'Life is easeful when you take care'.

'I lose me temper from time to time'.

'Yes, we have all experienced your lack of control but this opportunity to learn comes at precisely the right time'.

'Huh?'

'Do you believe that this is a matter of pure luck – this journey –

these people, including yourself, who have joined us?'

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'I don't follow you, Viresh?'

'There is no accident that you and I sit here now, having this exact conversation. You have something to learn and it is for me, to teach'.

'Nonsense'.

'If you choose not to learn this lesson and many others, I could teach you – then you will continue to make choices without awareness –

without thinking deeply. Bad choices will hold you back from ourishing –

from the joy found in compassion and love. Methinks, it would be nonsense to walk away from your destiny.

Pearl shook her head and paled, 'I don't understand. Are you saying that I ain't got a choice in my own destiny – or are you saying I do have a choice but if I choose the wrong thing then nothing will go right?'

'Yes and no'.

'More information, please. If this is me rst lesson, you better make sure I remember it right'.

'Yes, Pearl, you have a destiny but if you choose to take a different path, it does not necessarily mean you will not be happy with your choices. It means, however that you won't live out your Karma'.

'Karma – not a clue,' Pearl shook her head blankly.

'It is a vast topic of learning but to cut it short; you have many lessons to learn in this life. You are born with several opportunities to evolve; to blossom into a calm, thoughtful and kind soul. But, if you choose not to take the opportunity, it is our belief system, that is Ravi and mine, that after the death of your mortal body, your soul will have to return again to the physical world and repeat a life of suffering'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'That be a worrisome thought, 'Pearl leaned her head back against the glass of the window. After moments of thought, 'I ain't going to pass judgment on what you just said. You would not read about the like of such a thing, – even in a fairy-tale. Hope you don't take no offence, Viresh, but it's strange. I mean, it ain't the only strange religion, mine is just as confusing. I was never able to work out how it was possible for me to have the sight and feel things that other people can't see – I mean to say, they be human spirits – human souls – a soul is precious isn't it Viresh?'

Viresh nodded, 'indeed, every single soul is precious'.

'Every soul whether they be in heaven, on earth or somewhere in between. My goodness, if the Priest knew about me sight, he might have sent me off to one of them heartless lunatic asylums'. Pearl nodded to herself. She seemed to have decided—

'Alright then what is the lesson?'

'You tell me,' Viresh turned and took Pearl's hand. She sat up straighter—

'Alright, I think me lesson is that I should not say nasty things. Try not to think nasty stuff'.

'Well done, my dear'.

Pearl could smell the distinctive aroma of moustache wax and spicy Indian tea. She had come to love it.

'Once you asked me why some people were born poor. You asked me why you were one of those girls whom society judged as being less.

But I think you judge yourself. You judge that others think you are unworthy. Do you agree?'

This made Pearl uncomfortable. She withdrew her clammy hand from Viresh and wiped the perspiration on her skirt.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'You see yourself as less but I – I see you for what you are,' Viresh pulled his chandras up and crossed his legs. 'You are a force of nature my girl but – here is a big but so you must listen hard – you have an enemy within'.

Pearl gulped, 'cor blimey, another enemy! Alright out with it then'.

'Apart from your appalling use of the English language which we intend to rectify, you have a quality which could hold you back from experiencing life's blessings' Viresh twirled his moustache and checked the little golden ring was still perfectly placed.

'Oh, you think,' Pearl said cynically. Viresh nodded with a hint of amusement tucked into the corners of his lips.

'Spit it out then, old man,' Pearl bumped him playfully with her shoulder. She had the most remarkable ability of letting things go. Of being able to forgive and forget. Of wanting to learn.

'If you must know and, Viresh thinks you must, it the green eye of jealousy that holds you back'.

'I ain't jealous,' Pearl bristled.

'Close your eyes and seek truth deep inside; why did you say that cruel thing to Miss Antigone? Why were you enraged?' Viresh took Pearl by the chin and turned her head to face him. She knew she must answer but it was hard to be properly honest—

'I don't know, I suppose I felt a bit resentful that she was getting so much attention – and for what – disobeying me – getting herself kidnapped. Suppose I was jealous – but I didn't mean to be – it just sort of come on – like a headache,' Pearl stopped abruptly. She had been truthful and there was nothing more to say. The teacher and student sat for a few moments in comfortable silence.

'She was spitting mad, Viresh; not sure if she will forgive and forget'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Me thinks she will. She is clever, but more than that,' Viresh took Pearl's hand. 'She has deep anger inside her also, and like a wild tiger in a cage, it must be freed. Just as your tiger wishes to be freed'.

Pearl laughed, 'I only eat humans when I'm hungry'.



Outside Ravi's window, Albert Turner was clinging on for dear life. He was wondering if indeed he was too old for this line of work. Lost his touch. Too soft. After all, his granddaughter was about the same age as that poor Antigone girl. She didn't know east from west and he knew for certain that she was clueless about the stone. He sighed heavily and almost lost his balance. The sea was rough and the sky as green as the ocean. Anyone else in their right mind would not be holding on to a slippery window ledge risking life and limb to get peek inside for a smarmy German bloke.

If truth be told he was close to hating Rudolph. Psychopath was a word Albert was using more and more when he heard his boss's increasingly maniacal demands. The problem was that Albert was not going to be paid until the job was complete. He had to push through to the bitter end, no matter what.

Rudolph had a hunch that the stone would be lying about haphazardly in Mr. Bloom's suite. He was sure Mr. Bloom was as dizzy as a showgirl and twice as stupid. Albert had other ideas, but he was not about to voice them. When they reached Bombay, he would collect his wages and try to bury the memory of Rudolph forever.

The ship lurched but Albert's instincts told him to hang on tight and continue watching the unlikely menagerie of people gathered around Mr.

Bloom. The young porter that Rudolph had attacked earlier was in the room eating stfuls of bread. There was an energy around that boy, enough to raise Albert's suspicions that he could not be trusted. Even more curious was that he was in the company of his superiors.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

I was wrong about that one ,Albert shifted his gaze to Antigone. She had been shrouded in blankets earlier but had moved position and he could see her pro le. It was a cruel shade of purple and blue. Albert winced. He hated hurting her—

'Sorry luv just doing my job,' he whispered. Albert adjusted his angle so he could see better, 'and there you are my lovely'. Casually left on the coffee table was the stone Rudolph so desperately wanted, crikey the psychopath was righ .t Rudolph was right. The ship lurched again but Albert kept his mind on payday. He reckoned it should be enough to buy a small farm in the Cotswolds. Albert put his dreams aside, the boy looked about to leave. Albert squeezed his foot into a nook and hoisted himself up around ten centimetres, just enough to see that the stone was missing. Little rasca ,l he smiled, if he were my kid, I'd be right proud.

'Penny for your thoughts,' Ravi asked quizzically.

'Just thinking. To be honest, it felt good to slap Pearl,' Antigone grimaced. Using the words slap and Pearl in the same sentence was not respectable for a girl of her standing and not particularly nice. 'I'm not embarrassed. Or sorry. I don't feel angry; I just feel ...'.

'Powerful ... liberated,' Ravi suggested.

'No, well yes, maybe. I'm not ashamed that I liked it. Is that a bad thing? Does that make me a bad person?' Antigone tried to thwart a runaway grin. If travelling second-class was supposed to trim away her aristocratic heritage; it was working.

'Perhaps what you feel is relief that you were able to express yourself without being scolded. Antigone, you have been embalmed like an Egyptian Mummy,' Ravi grinned back.

'I beg your pardon?'

'You have been cooped up in a boarding school I imagine. Lots of rules and regulations. At home, I suppose, you had little say in your future or perhaps even in the colour of your frocks'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'How did you ...'.

'Simple deduction really,' Ravi poured himself a cup of tea.

'But how?'

'Your accent for a start, I would hazard a guess at Buckingham Ladies College, or perhaps Chaf ey College. Oh, and your boots,' Ravi nodded at Antigone's feet, 'handmade'.

'Oh'.

'This slinking around in second-class makes it ridiculously clear that you are running away. For heaven's sake, even the grammatically challenged Pearl guessed,' Ravi smiled playfully. This smile had worked on his mother, his sisters, aunts, and indeed every female he had ever encountered so he assumed it would work on Antigone.

It had the opposite effect. Antigone observed for the rst time the razor-sharp edge to Ravi's teeth, as though they were designed to tear through esh and bone. Also, his eyes were not what you would call animated. Not in a human way. Antigone focused on them, is he looking at me? She wondered and followed his gaze. A chill pierced her skin. Her nervous system was still on high alert for anything remotely strange or unusual. Ravi was both those things.

'Thank you very much for the err, the nourishment and all that,'

Antigone fumbled with the small buttons on her boots.

'I believe the plan was for us to wait for Viresh and Miss Pearl to return,' Ravi said sternly.

'She is so cross; I doubt that she will want to spend another night with me or share a cabin for that matter'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'It is not safe for you anymore. You cannot just wander around, but if you must,' Ravi handed Antigone her shawl. He realised she needed to be alone. Antigone glanced at Ravi again. Something was not right with him and it was time to go.

Tom lay on his bunk considering the options. He could return the stone to Mr. Bloom's room and no one would be the wiser or he could negotiate a price from the German geezer. This was the rst time Tom could remember feeling con icted about making a few bob on the side.

He liked Pearl and Miss Antigone. Mr. Bloom had shocked him by inviting him into his suite. To be invited as a guest, and eat cake, and be thanked.

It was surreal. Tom had never experienced that kind of trust before. He shut his eyes. Tom's face relaxed into an expression of a happy, innocent boy. He always used his instincts when it came to making money. And money was money. Tom jolted upright, ready for action. The innocence in his eyes was replaced by the calculating eyes of a tiger. Tom stood up decisively and pocketed the stone.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

## CHAPTER FIFTEEN

### PORTIA AND VIVIENNE

When you decide to be the person you long to be, That is the exact moment you wil be free.

Petra Goldberg

The tearoom hummed with gossip, probably repeated numerous times already. It was unpleasant if you didn't like too much noise. Portia did not like noise. Nor did she like the garish ceiling that was painted with a cheerful spring garden. Foxglove, lily, lavender, honeysuckle, wild ower, primrose and—

'For goodness sake, sun owers are not a spring bloom. They are an autumn bloom. Does nobody know anything these days? Portia huffed, 'I am decidedly out of sorts'. The elderly lady put down her butter knife with force.

'I know, I am in bits about it too, Vivienne replied while dissecting her scone as if it were a toad.

Portia tutted.

'You know, Portia, I am unnerved about the incident with Bubble and Squeak. If it were to happen again, someone could be badly hurt'.

Portia's sister lifted the teacup to her mouth and discreetly looked around the dining room. The perpetrators were thankfully absent. But one had to be careful what one said in society.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Bubble and Squeak,' Portia lowered her voice, 'are very suspicious indeed, I've noticed Squeak, slinking around corners. Dashing here and ducking there'.

'Squeak, goodness which one is Squeak? The short or the tall? And perhaps we should use code names,' Vivienne's eyes shone behind her glasses.

'Heavens Vivienne, Squeak is the tall one of course. Why on earth would Bubble be Squeak? He doesn't even look like a Squeak,' Portia tutted again.

'Right then, shall we agree on code names,' Vivienne suggested.

'Bubble and Squeak are code names you pickle'.

'Yes, yes of course they are. Right you are, Portia,' Vivienne stood up.

The tea service rattled and ladies at the neighbouring tables glanced over.

'I am off then'.

'Where are you going? You can't just – take off!' Portia steadied the tea service.

'I am off to speak with the boy, and if I happen to nd the Head Steward, I will talk to him too, and if I happen to nd the Captain ...'

'I get the picture,' Portia tucked in her chair and nodded polity to the table of ladies who were shamelessly staring. She hurried after her sister, can't take my eyes off her for a second, she scolded silently.

The hallways were empty. It was that time of the day when rst-class passengers took tea and a little lie down before dressing for dinner.

Vivienne steamed through the empty corridors, not a hundred percent sure where she was going but certain it was the right direction. Her footfalls were dulled by the luxurious pink carpet under her feet. The only sound was a delightful tinkling of crystal chandeliers that swayed above her head.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'What are you doing here?' Portia panted as she caught up with her sister. They found themselves standing in front a sizeable door to the royal suite. One had to be either royal or fabulously wealthy to afford the opulence. Even the door was a decadent affair of burgundy leather and shining gold studs. The handle was a bronze leopard dipped in real gold.

'Tasteless,' Portia whispered. Vivienne tentatively put out her hand to touch the leopard, but Portia slapped it down—

'Have you lost your mind?' she hissed, 'we need to go – now'.

'Yes, we should,' Vivienne said thinly but she was trans xed on the golden leopard. It was turning.

'Vot a pleasant surprise! Ladies do come in,' said a very unattractive man. Portia could see the fat of his cheeks kneading his earlobes. Even his chin fat continued to wobble, well after he ung the door open. Portia's eyes ickered to Vivienne, who was blatantly peering over the top of his head and into the room behind.

'We would not disturb you for the world. You are working and we, well, it's a funny story, but we were lost. If you could point us in the right direction,' Portia stammered.

'Exquisite hallway – the carpet is so very plush,' Vivienne broke in.

'Vell then, you vill be astounded by the beauty of my suite. Do come in,' Rudolph stood aside and grandly gestured for the ladies to enter. 'Vat?

Come on, I don't bite,' he teased. Vivienne and Portia tittered politely and took an imperceptible step back. He exuded danger, he exuded something close to revulsion but there was something else, what is i ,t Vivienne pondered.

'Please, ladies, I vould very much like you to come in. I have macaroons, you like do you not. All ladies like macaroons. If you prefer, I have 80-year-old brandy, the absolute best. Vould you like brandy?'

Rudolph's cheeks wobbled joyfully. Portia cast a glance at Vivienne and hoped she would refuse him.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'We would be delighted, Mr ...' Vivienne tilted her head to the side in a manner that was so charming to Rudolf that his eyes budged a little bit more and his barrel chest puffed out like a delighted peacock. Vivienne almost laughed.

'You may call me Rudolph,' he thrust a tiny hand towards Portia. The esh of his pinkie nger swelled from either edge of a delicate signet ring.

Portia was not sure if Rudolph expected her to kiss this signet ring.

Instead, she curtsied—

'We are Portia and Vivienne Keeling, very pleased to make your acquaintance Rudolph'.

Within minutes the sisters were sitting in front of a mountain of pastel-coloured macaroons and bulbous glasses of brandy. Rudolph plumped cushions and darted about in an awkward display of gallantry.

He sat down opposite them and smiled. He was jolly, almost festive but they hadn't a thing to talk about.

Finally, Vivienne broke the silence, 'I believe we saw you earlier this morning Rudolph'. She felt Portia's boot graze against her own.

'How charming, and where was that? You must excuse me, I have been rather preoccupied, as you can see,' again he lifted his arm and gestured around the room. It was full of important-looking boxes and neat piles of paperwork. There was also, a shining black pistol half-hidden under a map. The pistol was disconcerting for Portia but even more so was the map. As far as she could see, it was a blueprint of the ship.

'This morning, just after the chapel service. You were with another gentleman, and you seemed to be involved in some sort of – altercation shall we say,' Vivienne smiled sweetly. Since she was a child, her smile recused her from all sorts of trouble, but perhaps not this, she thought as Rudolph's eyes went cold.

'That, that was nothing. Another macaroon ladies?' Rudolph stood and tucked the plate under Portia's nose. She politely pushed it away.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'It is time for Vivienne and me to prepare for dinner I'm afraid,' Portia was about to stand but Rudolph's face crumbled. He seemed genuinely disappointed. This was a far different man than the one they witnessed this morning.

'We can spare a few more minutes,' Vivienne placed her hand on Portia's leg and tilted her head coquettishly, 'I just can't get the image of the boy sprawled against the wall out of my head, Rudolph. Was he terribly beastly towards you? I know how the younger generation can be so – what is the word – sassy?'

Portia raised an eyebrow; was this really her sister being so bold.

Vivienne continued, 'naturally we have had encounters with petty thieving, but I had not noticed anything unusual about this child'. She paused for a moment to give Rudolf time to respond, 'forgive me if I am being too forward, but what was his crime?'

Rudolph's fat cheeks parted to reveal a set of milky-white teeth, each one placed with a perfect gap between, which created an illusion of looking into the mouth of a toddler. Portia sti ed a gasp, but Rudolph obviously had no inclination his teeth were so off-putting. He puffed out his cheeks a little more giving the ladies an unhindered view into his pink mouth.

'Caught him trying to pick-pocket me,' Rudolph announced.

'And did you report him?' Vivienne used a serious tone. The picture of sincerity.

'No, I dealt vith za matter myself as you vitnessed,' Rudolph stated factually.

'Goodness, you are brave. Isn't he brave, sister?' Vivienne nudged Portia.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Rather,' Portia said atly. A few moments before, her eyes had seized upon a sheet of paper that lay half-hidden under the sofa. It was dif cult to tell exactly what it was but a dark red stamp, the colour of blood, hinted its importance. She placed her heel on the corner and slid it out. She leaned forward. It appeared to be a highly classi ed document. Portia shuddered; she always trusted her instinct. The teacup rattled and clattered to the oor. Rudolph jumped to his feet. Vivienne stood too hastily and bumped her teacup. It too, rattled to the oor.

'Goodness me, what a business, I am so sorry, Rudolph; I have tea all over my boots,' Portia nudged Vivienne.

'Yes of course, we have outstayed our welcome. A great pleasure to meet you properly, Rudolph,' Vivienne dipped her head. Portia was already at the door, impatient for Rudolph to open it. She was squeezing her knees together and for all the world looked as though she was ghting the urge to break gas – a lot of it!

Vivienne and Portia hurried back to their own cabin, which now seemed small and ungenerous in comparison. They collapsed onto the beds without taking off their boots.

'What on earth's gotten into you,' Vivienne squinted at her sister. She was behaving positively peculiar. Portia ignored Vivienne and withdrew her spectacles. She placed them on her long nose while smoothing a crumpled piece of paper.

'What's that?' Vivienne demanded.

'I don't know yet'.

'Let me see,' Vivienne looked over Portia's shoulder, 'you didn't – did you? Please tell me you didn't'.

'I did and that's that. But what is it? That's the question you should be asking,' Portia examined the page and traced the intimidating stamp with her nger.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'We could ask Rudolph to translate,' Vivienne said sarcastically which didn't suit her at all. Portia gave her a withering look -

'It's serious Viv, just look at the writing'. The typeface stomped over the page in harsh, red letters. The top left-hand corner had an of cial, threatening kind of stamp with the words, Preußische Geheimpolizei, emblazed across the top.

'Oh golly, oh goodness. Secret Prussian Police! Portia, what have you done?' Vivienne eased herself down onto the bed. She felt nauseous.

'Nothing out of the ordinary dear, just a bit of spilt tea,' Portia had a gleam in her eye that spelt TROUBLE.

'Please tell me you are not going to get involved in this – this –

espionage – if that is what it is,' Vivienne pleaded.

'Not immediately, dear, rst I need you to translate it'.

On the second page, a few short, sharp lines pierced the white paper like stab wounds. Vivienne took the pages. Her hands trembled. It was dif cult for her to focus her eyes when her mind was in a torrent of panic.

Letzte Möglichkeit

Holen Sie sich den Stein

Vernichte jeden

Beweise zerstören

den Engländer ausrotten

Verschwinden

Portia crossed her arms over her sparrow chest. He was both stressed and impatient.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Alright, I think it says: Last Chance. Get the stone. Destroy evidence.

Exterminate the Englishman. Disappear,' Vivienne folded up the pages and returned them to her sister.

'Squeak has no idea that he is going to be disposed of when he is no longer needed – makes me feel a little sorry for him,' Portia peeled off her boots and lay down on the bed. She drummed her ngers together.

'He is an awful fellow, but no-one deserves that kind of treatment,'

Vivienne added. The sisters looked at each other, 'I wonder what a stone has to do with the Prussian Secret Police – intriguing'.

'And who would have thought that nasty little so and so could be secret police,' Portia yawned, 'I need a nap dear, my brain has imploded'.

'Well-spoken sister,' Vivienne also let her heavy eyelids close, 'too much adventure for one afternoon'.

Vivienne didn't nap though—

'Portia,' she whispered. 'Portia are you awake?' Vivienne slid her legs off the bed. The letter was folded on the bedside table. She rubbed her face; what if Rudolph realises the page is missing, what if he guessed it were us

? The thought was unnerving. Vivienne wrung her hands together and glanced at Portia. It would be a risk. A big risk, but what other option did she have.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

## CHAPTER SIXTEEN

### THE ITALIAN STILETTO

Never give a sword to a man who cannot dance.

Confucius

'Follow me and don't go making no noise. I don't want to hear no screeching either – no nothing. Understand me, little lady. I don't want no more trouble from you,' Albert slid the sharp edge of his sword out of the cane. The dim hallway light glinted off the blade.

'I've no idea what you're talking about! Do you want me to make trouble or not? You need to be clear,' Antigone felt dry and devoid of emotion which was both incredibly reckless and indisputably dangerous.

Her split lip and bruises were beginning to ache, and she was dead tired.

She tilted her head so she could meet Albert's watery eyes.

'You best take my advice and be a good girl – I am just doing my job –

I don't want to hurt you,' Albert sheathed his sword.

'I AM going to be a good girl,' Antigone quipped. A ame ignited in her stomach, 'but rst ...' she hiked up her skirt with her right hand, took hold of the re exit door to her left, leaned back and threw all her weight into her right leg. Her boot sailed with tremendous force into Albert's crotch. Albert hissed and collapsed onto the oor clutching his groin. The cane rolled to Antigone's feet. The sword had come loose but she knew how to tighten the handle and lock it into place.

'I've had it up to the teeth with you,' Albert panted.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'It's mutual,' Antigone hovered over Albert with the cane pressing into his cheek. Her hand trembled but not with fear. Antigone fought a delicious urge to whip it across Albert's face. Albert was an expert judge of danger and the girl was on the verge of losing control. He screwed up his face and supposed he deserved it. In that surreal waiting period between the unconscious lifting of a weapon and the human mechanics of thrusting it, Antigone thought of Jane. She would be disgusted with an act of violence, of revenge, even toward this lowlife. Antigone hesitated with the cane raised above her head when Albert opened one eye.

'Coward,' he snarled.

'That was a mistake,' Antigone aimed the cane across Albert's thighs and let it rip.

'You asked for that,' Antigone sniffed. Albert's face turned a ferocious puce and she could see his jaw lock. He seized Antigone's boot. She pulled back but his grip was like a vice. The boot began to slip off.

Antigone lost control. She smashed her other foot into Albert's face.

'I'll get you. You little ...' Albert used an unmentionable word and hoisted himself up. He pinched the bridge of his nose to stem the bleeding. One eye was streaming and the other open just enough to catch a glimpse of Antigone hurtling down the corridor.

Antigone's left boot was now loose and unbuttoned. It slipped around her foot like an oversized wellington boot. It was slowing her down. As she reached the stairwell to second class, she bent to take it off.

The next few steps were even worse. Her stockinged foot slipped. She had to hold the banister with two hands and take the steps one at a time.

Where was everyone? Why was it so quie ?

t She had almost reached the

last stair when a cold pain shot across her shoulder blades.

'Not anufer word or I'll cut you up inta little pieces,' Albert hissed.

Antigone froze. Her insides dropped into her legs and they felt like jelly.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Nod if you understand me,' blood trickled from Albert's nose and down the back of Antigone's neck. She felt the warm, sticky drizzle. It made her nauseous. Her skin prickled hotly, and she was falling through a howling wind tunnel; black and bleak.

It was unfortunate for Albert that Antigone had managed to travel so far in such a short time. He was forced to carry her heavy body up seventeen ights of emergency stairs which were cramped, dark and slippery. He banged his head in several places and lost his footing more than once. Ultimately, he arrived at the very last exit where the stairs stopped.

'Alright Boss,' Albert slid Antigone's unconscious body onto the ground. Rudolph chuckled and rubbed his eshy hands together.

'Vell done, vell done indeed and vat does zi girl say for herself?'

Rudolph enquired.

'Not much I'm afraid, Sir, she's not woken up yet. Might have walloped her a bit too 'ard,' Albert lifted Antigone's eyelid and squinted,

'pupils as big as saucers. She'll be out for a while'.

Albert glanced at Rudolph and stood up. It was a risk to question Rudolph about anything but as far as he was concerned, they were wasting time with this girl; it was the other one he needed—

'If you want my opinion, Sir, she ain't the one we want. She knows nothing about nothing'.

'She has worth I think,' Rudolph pondered the crumpled pile on the oor.

'The others will follow,' Rudolph waltzed around the room with an invisible partner. 'Zis is ze icing on ze cake'.

If Albert had not been astounded by the cups of tea and plate of macaroons, he might have taken heed of Rudolph's maniacal behaviour—

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'You had company?'

Rudolph clapped his hands together, 'yes vonderful company'.

Albert edged away from Rudolph. His boss was behaving strangely, well, stranger than usual Albert thought. He looked over the room. The piles of papers and maps seemed to be in order. Nothing disturbed and nothing out of place. But in the whole time, he had known Rudolph, he had never entertained friends, acquaintances or guests.

'Safe, were they? Whoever you had for tea. Trust em do you?' Albert sat heavily on the couch. His nose was blocked with dry blood and large purple circles cramped his vision.

'Perfectly safe,' Rudolph nudged Antigone with the shiny tip of his boot, 'put ze rubbish in ze corner, vill you. She makes ze voom look shabby'. He disappeared into the bedroom and shut the door.

Albert did as he was told and moved Antigone into the corner, next to the couch. But he was troubled, why no ?

w he thought, why is Rudolph

entertaining visitors now – after al this time. Who were they? Want did they want? Why didn't Rudolph ever offer me tea?

It was not long before Albert got his answer. There was a timid knock on the door. Albert glanced down at Antigone; her boot was visible. He stuffed her legs into her skirt, so she was out of sight. He looked through the peephole. Standing at the door was Vivienne. Albert opened the door a crack—

'May I help you, Madam?'

Vivienne gasped at the blood caked around his nose, 'sorry to disturb you, I think I left a glove here'. She held up a solitary glove and shrugged.

Albert opened the door.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'You were here for tea, were you?' Albert trusted no-one. Rudolph was still ferreted away in his bedroom. Albert looked towards the locked door. He knew better than to disturb Rudolph when he was working, 'I suppose you should come in'.

'I was sitting right here,' Vivienne had taken a few short steps to the sofa and began to bend down.

'Please let me,' Albert hovered closely. He did not want Antigone to be discovered. Vivienne's eyes widened in horror. Antigone was lying prone on the oor but staring right at her. Vivienne tried to wink and hoped it was enough for the girl to understand that she would be back with reinforcements. She slid the con dential paper from her sleeve and thrust it under the couch. Then she pulled out the left glove and stood up smiling, 'I knew I'd left it here, could be no-where else,' Vivienne backed away. Albert looked from the door to the couch. Something was up but he was exhausted and in pain.

'Madam,' Albert held the door open.

'I do hope your nose settles,' Vivienne said with false sincerity. She had the image of the poor, bruised girl seared into her mind. As far as Vivienne was concerned, a broken nose was not punishment enough for the likes of Albert.



The day was turning up all sorts of oddments. First, the tea party that Albert was not invited to. The suspect lady with the glove. And now bloomin' what

? A knock disturbed the silence. Albert looked at his pocket watch, must have nodded of .f He dragged his weary body from the chair

—

'And what do you want?'

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'I'm ... here ... to ... see... your... boss,' the words tumbled out of Tom's mouth like little staccato gunshots. He hopped from foot to foot. He knew if he didn't go through with his plan, he would forfeit a good deal of cash; and he would be left with the stone. It was getting heavier in his pocket with every passing hour.

'Hold your horses' pal, the boss doesn't need the likes of you bothering him,' Albert weighed Tom us. He was a smart lad. He might have something useful to say but Albert was cranky. 'Get on with ya, we don't need no more interruption'. He shut the door, but Tom shot his foot into the doorway.

'Move it my son'.

'No. No wait. I've got something you lot want. Be best if you let me in,'

Tom had practiced saying this, about a thousand times on the way up.

Albert grinned; his tobacco-stained teeth were a grey and uneven—

'Sounds intriguing,' Albert drawled, 'wait here then, I'll ask the boss if he wants to see you'.

Albert shut the door and left Tom waiting in the alcove. The huge door was imposing, even the carpet was imposing. He wiped a trickle of sweat off his forehead, get it together Tom, you can do this.

'Vot,' Rudolph ung the door wide open. He checked the corridor was empty and signalled for Tom to enter.

'Em,' Tom cleared his throat nervously. 'I got some nk you want but you will have to pay for it – big time'.

'Zat depends on vat dat something is,' Rudolph rolled a fat cigar around his lips. The smoke billowed around his head and clung to his nostrils like wispy maggots.

'You know – som nk you want real bad,' Tom winked.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Vot is dat, som nk?' Rudolph growled.

This is going to be harder than I thought ,Tom swallowed rising panic.

He decided to show Rudolph the stone. All Tom wanted, was to talk numbers. He wanted money and a lot of it. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small stone. It rested coolly in the palm of his hand. It was covered with intricate carving; symbols and ourishes that Tom could not make any sense of.

Rudolph gasped, 'ze stone, wunderbar, wunderbar'. His mouth contorted into a lumpish smile. Tom took an involuntary step back. The man had a maniacal power about him. An unstable, ruthless power.

'Velcome, velcome, do come inside mein freund,' Rudolph beckoned Tom further into the room. It was shrouded in darkness except for a wan light that shone from the adjoining room.

Tom blinked. His heart hammered. He turned his head towards the door. It was blocked by Albert. He spun his head back to Rudolf who at once seemed much greater and ominous than Tom remembered.

'Do excuse ze low light, I have a problem vit my eyes, very sensitive to light. However, in dis room I can zee perfectly. How about you, mein young friend, can you see?' Rudolph sucked his cigar and red embers contorted his face into a circus freak.

'Getting there, Sir, give us a few more moments,' Tom took a steadying breath.

'Vy yes, zit vould be my pleasure to gift you a few more moments,'

Rudolph's feet cut a semi-circle around Tom. Cold with fear, Tom sidestepped away from Rudolph but not away from his knife. The blade slid through the material of Tom's jacket, waistcoat and shirt. It slid between the fourth and fth ribs, into the esh. Tom stumbled and the stone slipped out of his hand and rolled out of sight.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

For Tom, the room spiralled into a vortex of red. Suddenly all his pushed down, ignored rage roared to the surface. The anger he had never let himself feel. Anger when his mother died, when his father died.

Resentment from when he was treated like dirt. All of it erupted from the pit of his soul. Tom threw his head back and roared—

'I'm going to kill yous both and then ...' Tom attempted to stand but Rudolph had his head clamped to the oor, 'I'll throw you to the sharks –

piece by bloody piece'.

Rudolph slowly twisted Toms head so he could see Antigone's body tightly bound – her mouth gagged. Another tidal wave of pure hate fuelled Tom's anger—

'Damn you'. The pressure on Tom's head was causing his neck to fracture, 'get your stinking hands off me,' Tom roared. To his amazement the weight lifted. Tom scrambled to untie Antigone.

'I ain't touching that lad. If you want him dead, you can do it yourself,'

Albert spoke from somewhere behind, 'I didn't sign up for this, they are just kids'.

'I vaz going to do it myself'. Zum Schweigen bringen der idiot,'

Rudolph turned his maniacal attention towards Albert, 'perhaps I vill kill you too, little man'.

Albert balked, 'that's rich coming from you'.

'Stupid idiot! Little, zimple minded, scrapings of human trash. Little mind – infantile mind – do you zee – you're expendable – vorthless'.

Meanwhile, Tom worked fast. He had loosened the knots and freed Antigone's arms. She was out cold. He prayed she was still breathing. The room was so dark but he could hear the direction of Rudolph's voice. Tom traced the line of the sofa with his hands, he was quite sure that he knew which direction the door was. He needed to get help. But it was too late.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'I zee you are admiring my Stiletto. Sheer beauty iz she not? Picked her up from an Italian gentleman, actually I mizzspoke, I picked her out of an Italian gentleman'. Rudolph's lips parted and thinned. Tom thought Rudolph had lost his train of thought, but the silent chuckle soared into hysteria. For a moment piercing screeches, like a pig being led to slaughter, bounced off the walls. Rudolf clutched his belly and gasped for breath—

'She is my good luck charm. Ze blade iz thin and razor sharp. If I vere to thrust it inside you, you vould feel nothing. Once it is deeply imbedded however, I vould swivel it – like so'. Rudolph twirled the knife extravagantly, 'you vould then be in very much agony'.

Tom had felt the cut of the blade and could verify that it was thin and sharp. At the time, the slash of the blade through his skin felt ice-cold but now it hurt like hell and blood was spilling onto the carpet.

Rudolf waddled a few steps closer to Tom—

'Give me the stone,' Rudolph touched the point of the blade to Tom's temple. Tom fumbled around the oor, feeling blindly—

'I ... I must have dropped it'.

'Liar,' Rudolph shouted. He pushed the blade deeper. A rivulet of blood ran into Tom's collar.

'It must have fallen out when I tripped, I swear,' Tom pleaded.

'Am I surrounded by Imbechiless?' Rudolph barked. He withdrew the blade punched the wooden heel of his shoe into Tom's jaw.

Tom had experienced many things over the previous week, but this was a new sensation. He felt removed, a casual distance from his body, as though he was underwater. It was pleasant and comforting, yet something was horribly wrong. Lightning ashed followed by a crashing implosion of pain as his jaw cracked into thousands of pieces. Tom managed to lift his arm and cover his face, but a second blow didn't come.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

Albert raised his st high, aiming for Rudolph's nose; if this went to plan it would be a sharp knee to the stomach which would wind Rudolph and give him time to get the children out.

'I vealise too late that von can never expect an Englishman to do a German's vork,' Rudolph said blithely.

Albert bared his teeth and thrust his st towards Rudolph's smug face. Mid- ight it wavered. Albert wavered. Rudolph's gleaming Italian Stiletto made an elegant incision just below the third rib. Directly into Albert's lung. It was foul play. Rudolph could have stabbed him through the heart or even the neck for a quick kill. But Albert had become a nuisance.

'Never send a child to do a man's vork. And you – Imbechile – you are less than a child and little more than a puppet,' Rudolph rolled Albert's motionless body off him and picked up the stone. For all the trouble it had cost him, it felt light and insigni cant in his hand. He slid it into his pocket and vanished from the room like a ghost.

Tom curled into a tight ball and gripped his head to steady the white explosions. Every microscopic movement sent shards of glass screeching through his nerves. Even his breath was too loud. Tom had no idea if Rudolph had even left the room. He took a shallow breath and sent out feelers. He perceived a decompression of atmosphere, as though a window had opened. He needed to check on Antigone. He needed to thank Albert, but the pain gripped him like a furnace.

Tom waited another minute and tried again. He forced open his eyes but immediately regretted it. He plummeted into an abyss of nausea. The urge to retch was intense but he knew how much it would hurt his head.

Instead, he tried to breathe but the slight shift of breath triggered another spasm of pain so extreme that the great mound of sticky chocolate cake he had eaten earlier returned in a single violent shudder.

Tom fell unconscious.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

Antigone had managed to free herself from the ropes and dragged herself up. Beside the couch would be a lamp, if only she could reach it, she fumbled around the side table almost toppling the lamp. Finally, she felt the pull-string between her ngers and yanked. She swayed, not coherent—

'The world has gone mad,' Antigone's jaw hung open. The threat had gone but there was still a circling energy of pain. She understood pain now. She wrapped her arms around herself, swaying as an animal in a cage might rock from side to side. Her instincts were depleted which contributed to the motionless state – bland and staring. The room had a cheerful golden light like it was lit by a kitchen re, strange, she thought, that he is such a disagreeable creature .' She was looking at the bloody body of Albert.

'P ... p ... pulse,' Tom panted. He wiggled away from his own vomit. The smell was making him ill, in a different way. He wasn't sure if Antigone heard him and didn't have the energy to say it again. She heard though, but it took time for her to comprehend—

'No,' Antigone stretched out the vowel. 'No, no, I am not going near him,' but despite herself, Antigone limped towards the dying man lying on the other side of the coffee table.

'You – have – to,' Tom ground his teeth together willing the pain to stop.

Antigone shuf ed to Albert and slipped her ngers under his nose,

'he's still breathing'.

'Hold- his hand or something,' Tom panted.

Albert's face was ashen, but his eyes glowed brightly. Tears pooled in the sunken hollow of his cheek. In this soft state between life and death, Albert's expression slid backwards in time, into childhood. Into something vulnerable and open.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Can you,' Albert croaked, 'can you take ... me hand'. Antigone lifted his hand and stroked the rough skin of this wrist.

'I'm sorry,' he said breathily.

'Tom,' Antigone's voice pitched. She did not want to face Albert's passing alone.

'Soft heart you got there,' Tom crawled to Albert's side. He gripped his head with one hand and interlaced the other around Albert's.

'I'm not a bit surprised though; you rich folk have no heart most the time. Albert is just a geezer doing his job,' Tom was fed up with the lot of them. Even himself.

'I don't understand why you would say that,' Antigone's voice cracked.

'Well, a man gotta eat, don't he? Not everyone is born with a silver spoon. Not everyone's got a choice'.

'A man gotta eat,' Albert rasped. His eyes brightened and at that precise moment, Albert exhaled for the last time. He was no longer in his body. He was no longer alive but the clock on the mantlepiece ticked on.

Albert chuckled, he somehow understood that time was not a thing that counted seconds, minutes and hours. He understood that time stretched in all directions, in directions that were not even directions but great arcing waves of energy. A breeze, the colour of emerald forests, lifted his soul up, up, and away from his broken body. Wherever he was going, he knew it was going to be good.

'I suppose we should . .' Antigone pushed back tears.

Tom's body convulsed, 'the stone, Rudolph got the stone'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

Antigone ew to her feet. The corridor was silent. No good screaming or even nding a steward for help. It had to be Ravi Bloom. Antigone leapt across the threshold of the connector doors. First class cabins were the same warren-like structure as second class, except that the corridors weren't littered with children and drying clothes. They were gilded and decadent and empty. You could get away with murder here, she thought sardonically.

Mr. Bloom – Ravi,' Antigone threw open the door without knocking,

'it's the German,' she panted, 'he is escaping'.

'With the stone I presume,' Ravi Bloom fastened his scabbard around his hips. Antigone nodded. Her eyes wide.

'Tally ho then,' Ravi turned in the doorway and gestured towards Antigone's skirt, 'you may want to take another bath, you're dripping'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

## CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

### ALL HANDS ON DECK

What do you cal a toad who is also a spy?

A croak and dagger agent

After some serious persuasion on Pearl's behalf, Viresh agreed to tell her everything. There was a long silence afterward.

'Let me get this straight,' Pearl rubbed her eyes, 'the stone, which you say is something like a billion years old ...'.

'A thousand years old'.

'A thousand years old; is actually a code of some kind,' Pearl said.

'That is what I believe,' Viresh agreed.

'That little thing can't be a code, it's blooming tiny. I spent plenty of time looking at it and I can tell you it don't look nothing like a code'.

'The cryptograms you saw, like scratches in a line or a circle within a circle,' Viresh paused to let Pearl catch up, 'are the code – they have a certain meaning'.

'Ah-huh'.

'So, it is not easy to decode such an ancient thing, unless you know what the scratches and circles mean'.

After a moment Pearl said, 'do you know what they mean?'

'The code is ancient, and even though I am old – I am not ancient'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Could have fooled me'.

'Cheeky monkey,' Viresh lowered his voice. Even though they were in the little cabin with the doors closed, Viresh was vigilant, always alert.

'What else ...,' Pearl lowered her voice, 'what else do you know?'

'It is a code to a book which we discussed earlier and as my master said, in the wrong hands it is devastating,' Viresh looked as though he was going to nish there.

'Go on spill the beans. You promised to tell me everything. It's the one about washing brains that the German is after, right? But why? I mean, how on earth would he even know about the likes of such a secret book'.

'Viresh thinks you need to learn patience. Lesson one is never to rush a story. This story is about brainwashing. Others call it propaganda'.

'So, you reckon that German, whoever he is, wants to decode the stone – nd the book and do terrible things to people,' Pearl shuddered,

'things like killing?'

Viresh felt old and tired and could not endure more suffering caused by humans. Humans are the deadliest weapon of al ,he thought with a heavy heart.

'If Rudolph and his men nd the book, there is little doubt that he will start a war – a new kind of war where friend will turn upon friend'.

Pearl slumped against the wall. She was getting very tired and to top it off she still felt guilty about being mean to Antigone. Pearl turned her full gaze onto Viresh. The deep smile lines and warm curve of his lips made Pearl feel like she was in the care of her favourite grandfather. But grandfather or not, Viresh had put her life in danger. She lifted her hand—

'Oww,' Viresh yelped patting his moustache back down. 'I hope for your own safety that you did not dislodge a single whisker'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Might of – but you deserved it! You made me wear that damn stone for weeks. If I had of known it was so dangerous, I would have chucked it overboard'.

'And then I would have chucked you overboard,' Viresh winked.

A shuf e sounded outside the door. Viresh's head shot up and within the second, had a tomahawk in hand, 'Miss Pearl, I must bid you farewell for now. Viresh is needed'.

'What on earth is that thing?'

'A treasured gift from Running Deer – a strong and honourable weapon,' Viresh's eyes were glued to the door.

Ravi Bloom catapulted into the room, 'I believe battle is imminent old friend'. His long hair hung in loose, dark tresses and on his hip hung a ruby studded scimitar.

'Thought you would never ask sir'.

Pearl jumped to her feet, 'Oy, what about me?'

Ravi and Viresh were already striding down the corridor.

'I ain't come this far to be left out,' Pearl called.

Ravi turned, 'do you have a sword, a knife, a tomahawk?'

'No, but I got this,' Pear slid the Tranter out of her garter belt triumphantly.

'I accede that was impressive, but the answer is still no – close the door and lock it'.



Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

Vivienne and Portia were dressed in matching gowns as they had done since childhood. They stood stock-still in front of the magni cent red door to Rudolph's suite. The peephole glowered at them malevolently and Portia felt like they were offering themselves like little lambs to the slaughter—

'We should inform the Captain. Vivienne this is lunacy,' she tugged at her sisters' sleeve.

Vivienne clutched the shiny, brass bell-pull. An odd sensation edged its way up her spine, the tips of her ngers tingled, and her mind became clear as a crisp winter morning. For the rst time in her life, she was about to do something with or without her sister's approval and she was certain it was the right thing—

'Stand back sister. This is a matter of urgency,' Vivienne squared her sparrow shoulders, placed her hand on the golden leopard and turned it clockwise. The lock unfastened silently, and the door opened.

Vivienne peered in. Her nostrils ared. A revolting stench caught the back of her mouth. She grasped the doorframe, that poor gir ,l she thought, that poor, poor gir .l A lamp illuminated the far end of the room, but it was impossible to see beyond the feeble pool of yellow light.

Vivienne felt along the wall with trembling ngers. The switch ipped downward, and the room was awash with bright pink light. Vivienne glanced at the light bulb. At rst, she could not make out the pretty pattern on the bulb.

'Aaahhhhhh,' Portia sucked in her breath. Her mouth opened and closed but no other sounds came.

Vivienne watched the pink liquid congeal into fat, red blotches and drip onto the carpet, 'goodness'.

'Is that ...' Portia held her gloved hand over her mouth.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Blood, yes,' Vivienne surveyed the scene and it was a bloody, atrocious sight. She recognised the face of Albert; his lips curled in a preternatural smile. She sti ed the urge to be sick. He was dead, that much was obvious. The room was awash with the smell of death. Vivienne didn't hesitate. She stepped over the toppled furniture and kneeled next to Tom. She peeled off her lace glove with her teeth and placed her ngers on his neck—

'He's alive'.

'Who,' Portia inched into the room.

'The boy, the one from this morning,' Vivienne tried to lift Tom's hand away from his forehead. He gripped it like a vice, 'de nitely not dead, but swimming in blood. Fetch a towel, Portia. For goodness sake fetch a towel'.

Tom groaned, 'c ... c ... can't move'.

'He can't move,' Portia dropped a towel into Vivienne's impatient hand.

'Really dear, how did you guess,' Vivienne's heart constricted, 'do something useful and fetch the doctor'.

'I can't leave you here – alone,' Portia pulled at her bodice. It was becoming more and more dif cult to breathe.

'You can and you will,' Vivienne scolded, 'now go'.

Fragments of the switchblade shimmered under Albert's congealed blood. Vivienne leaned across Tom and slid her hand over Albert's eyes to close them. Tom still gripped Albert's hand, so she gently untangled them and laid Albert's hands on this chest—

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'There, that is better now. May you rest in peace'. Vivienne sighed and turned her attention to Tom. If the awful Rudolph returned, she would ght him tooth and nail to save the boy.



'Lifeboats,' Ravi unsheathed his sword and indicated that Viresh follow his lead. Sea mist swirled around their feet and the night had the kind of hushed sadness that can only be felt at sea. A loose door slammed; its hinges grated the silence. Ravi stood stock still and probed the thick air with his acute senses. Nothing. He edged along the cold iron wall. Above him, a naked bulb sprayed misty particles of light at random angles. He jabbed it with his sword and fragments of glass tinkled to the deck.

Darkness always helped his kinaesthesia, helped him to concentrate. He tuned into astral travel but this time the frequency was close-range. His senses crept through the mist, into corners, and under tarpaulins. He whistled softly and Viresh stealthily took position beside him. Both men stood now, in front of a lifeboat. A loose edge of tarp slapped giddily against the small boat. Viresh lifted his tomahawk.

'Imbechiless,' taunted Rudolph. Ravi and Viresh spun toward the voice.

'I zee you are az stupid az zee English,' Rudolph was barely visible but for his small, square teeth glinting whenever the clouds parted.

'I have absolutely no idea what language he is speaking, do you Viresh?' Ravi said blandly.

'Not a clue Sir'.

'Imbechiles, you vant to playen silly games vith me?' Rudolph swaggered forward a few steps, why don't ve play shoot zi idots'. He red a shot. Viresh dived onto the ground, blinded by the explosion.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'You vant me – you have to catchen me,' Rudolph's voice was dampened by the mist. It was impossible for Viresh to see him or even work out from what direction his voice came from. Rudolph laughed at him and changed location. Viresh turned in circles but not Ravi; he knew exactly where Rudolph stood. Night-vision was his specialty.

'The small toad wishes to play?' Ravi slid from the shadows and deftly leaped the ve feet to Rudolph. His scimitar raked the air pinning Rudolph against the slippery railing. Rudolph steadied himself. The sky had a violet avour and the sea was an equally menacing hue. Rudolph felt for his stiletto switchblade, damnation, I must have left it in that Imbechile. The knife was replaceable, but the stone was not, it pressed reassuringly against his leg. Rudolph had shot two rounds from his pistol, there were no bullets left. He analysed his target. He needed to smash the hilt of the pistol into Ravi's skull. This was going to be a challenge with the scimitar pressing against his chest, and the height of the man – freak, he thought venomously. Rudolph gripped the pistol barrel and drew back his arm but the look in Ravi's eyes disarmed him just long enough for Ravi's blade tip to nestle into the plump white skin under Rudolph's eye.

The skin resisted, it dimpled and sluiced open. Ravi felt a shiver of ecstasy as a trickle of crimson sliced the creamy fat.

'You needed some colour on your cheeks Herr?' Ravi was like a cat playing with its prey.

Rudolph hocked up mucus and launched the green slug at Ravi's face.

'I see you are a cultured gentleman,' Ravi toyed with Rudolph's cheek and the blade sunk deeper.

'Perhaps, an aristocrat; you certainly have the manners,' Ravi snarled.

Viresh was familiar with the icy transformation that could possess Ravi as soon as blood was drawn. He inched closer to his Sahib. If Ravi was unrestrained, he could easily savage this man before they got information.

The sword slid down to Rudolph's throat. If he gulped or swallowed, the blade would slide through his Adam's apple.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Why do you want the Ashoka Stone?' Ravi lifted the pressure of the sword just enough for Rudolph to answer.

'Nein,' Rudolph barely moved his lips.

'I repeat, why do you want the Ashoka Stone?' Ravi slid the curved underbelly of the sword against the esh that attached Rudolph's ear to his cheek.

Rudolph raised his chin like a haughty schoolboy, 'Nein'.

'Nein!' Ravi bellowed. 'Wretch,' Ravi shoved his left arm against Rudolph's throat, 'it is not a yes or no answer'.

The sound of the engine and the distant night music was obliterated by his thundering pulse. Ravi's bright eyes seared the inky space between himself and Rudolph. He felt true loathing and violence. Ravi let himself drop into trance. The sword felt warm and comfortable in his hand; he released a little pressure from the hilt. Magic. His ngers could now feel the subtle vibrations of Rudolph quivering. Rudolph's breath came in spasms. Sweet joy. Ravi felt the little man's terror and allowed his sword a little more freedom. In one sublime movement, the blade sheered Rudolph's ear from his skull.

'Sahib,' Viresh's voice arrived from a far distance.

Ravi's eyes ickered. He knew that Viresh was trying to drag him away from his prey – but the ecstasy – it was intoxicating. He was riding a wave of bliss. Each cell of his body was on re. He wanted to obliterate this degenerate villain from the face of the earth and restore the Ashoka stone to its rightful home. He wanted to release Rudolph from his mortal coil.

'Sahib,' again the voice pulled and pulled Ravi back into his body, into his mind.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Don't pester me, man,' Ravi seethed but a moment was lost. The moon disappeared behind a thick curtain of clouds and the night became black. It was impossible to tell which way was up or down. Rudolph fumbled at his pistol. Blood made his ngers slippery, but he managed to insert a bullet.

'Sahib,' Viresh howled.

Ravi's legs and arms sprawled at awkward angles, and his neck curved unnaturally. Viresh crawled along the deck and gripped the soft cotton of Ravi's chandras. He hardly dared to touch him.

'Sahib,' Viresh placed a timid hand over Ravi's heart but his own pulse was too loud. 'Sahib,' his voice splintered. He lowered his head onto Ravi's chest, 'my child' he whimpered. There was blood. Plenty of it. Ravi's neck twisted at a ghastly angle. Viresh tenderly lifted the locks of hair away from Ravi's cheeks and wiped away the blood that had puddled in his dimples. It was hard to collect Ravi up in his short arms but after falling onto him once and dropping his head a second time, Viresh managed to cradle his beloved as best he could.

Seconds ticked by like minutes and minutes like hours. Viresh thought for certain Ravi had left him. He nestled further into Ravi's chest.

'Viresh ... suffocating ... me,' Ravi complained.

'Sahib, you are alive,' Viresh slapped Ravi hard on the cheek.

'Ow, get a fellow while he's down why don't you'.

'Just checking Sahib, one can never be too sure in times of death,'

Viresh snuf ed.

'Yes, but as it happens, I am not dead'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

The clouds passed and the deck was shrouded in innocent silver light. Ravi staggered to his feet—

'No sign of Rudolph the Toad?'

Viresh icked Rudolph's squishy ear overboard, 'seems to have made an ear-ly departure'.

'In ear-nest, I believe we have lost him,' Ravi added.

Viresh looked over the side of the ship, 'apparently not, look how his little arms ap'.

'Shame really, he could have got toad,' Ravi winked at Viresh.

'Not worthy of a groan'.

'Alright then, just answer me this: how do toads die?' Ravi waved at Rudolf.

'Sir, how do toads die?'

'They croak it,' Ravi picked up his sword and examined the blood.

'Awful joke,' Viresh sheathed his tomahawk, 'but funny none-theless'.

'How many Germans does it take to change a light bulb?' Ravi sang.

This was the high after the low and Viresh had to go with it, but he was losing patience.

'Nein, Viresh answered atly. 'I assume you have the stone'.

'I do not,' Ravi answered. They looked over the railing for a long time, but Rudolph had disappeared into the deep blue.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Better at the bottom of the ocean than in the wrong hands,' Ravi said.

'Viresh toad-ally agrees, Sir'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

## CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

### AFTERMATH

Your work is to discover your world and then with al your heart give yourself to it.

Buddha

It took some time before Portia located the doctor on account of losing her way. When she arrived back at the room, the entire security team, which included the Captain, Fire Warden, and Doctor had already launched into action.

Tom had been carried to the medical unit on a stretcher which caused him enormous pain. Each jolt was like a rupture to his brain so that by the time they reached the unit, he had lost consciousness.

Vivienne had carefully wrapped Albert in a soft blanket and by the time Portia joined her, she felt rather sorry for him.

A few hours later in the early light of dawn, Albert was given a sea burial. Vivienne, Portia, Father O'Conner and the Captain stood in a semi-circle at dawn. The wrapped body of Albert lay at their feet. In the awkward silence, Father O'Conner opened his bible to read.

'Hem,' Vivienne cleared her throat.

Portia looked sideways at her sister, 'not again, Vivienne please, I can't take much more'.

'For once, this is not about you. If you don't mind Father, I have prepared a few words for Albert'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Oh – well – yes – of course – if you must,' Father O'Conner stuttered.

'Thank you. It would be easy for us to discount Albert as a thief, a liar and possibly a murderer but I believe, in the end, he redeemed himself. I believe we must acknowledge that he sacri ced his life for Tom and the other young girl too'.

Father O'Conner looked down at his feet and grunted. Portia looked anywhere but her sister.

'Is it not incumbent upon us to recognise that the last few minutes of his life were lled by the good intention to save two innocent lives?'

Vivienne, placed her hand on her heart, 'For everything, there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance'.

'Amen,' Father O'Conner nodded to the stewards and Albert was lifted over the railing and dropped into the sea.

Vivienne wiped her eyes, 'The battle between good and evil is in us all! Who are we to judge him?'

'Where did you read that,' Portia squinted at her sister and wondered what strange magic had transformed her.



Tom tossed and turned. He would sleep a few minutes and begin to dream, but always the same thing. He would be swimming for his life, deep under the water. He could see the light breaking through waves, but his legs were like weights; they would not kick. He dragged himself towards the light, stroke by painful stroke and just as he was about to break the surface, he would wake; confused, disorientated and soaked with sweat.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Nasty business – shocking – a child. I nd it dif cult to believe such a thing would take place on my watch; how old did you say he was?' the Captain tugged at his beard.

'I would hazard a guess at fourteen. Fifteen at a push,' the Doctor took Tom's wrist and cupped his ngers around it, 'grew up on the streets I would wager, judging by the size of his wrist. He is petite for a lad. I can't help but think that his story is a bit farfetched."

'You don't believe the child? That poses an interesting question'.

Much of the room blazed with harsh clinical light but some was engulfed by the Captain's wide and tall shadow. He found both the light and shadow disconcerting as though he were straddling life and death. It was safe to say that the Captain liked a hospital room as much as a cemetery at midnight. He was not a cowardly man but was uncomfortable with what he did not understand. The wall next to him was adorned with medical machinery too awful to contemplate. He stepped away from the phlebotomy knives and cups, glass syringes, fat hypodermic needles, tooth extracting pliers, and something he wished he had not seen—

'A bit farfetched,' the Captain repeated. 'That drill and I dare not imagine what it is used for, strikes me as being overdramatic – a bit –

farfetched. Do you think an undernourished whippet of a child could murder a grown man?

The Doctor was not used to having his opinions cross-examined—

'Captain, if I may ...'

'His pockets were empty, and Mr. Peet searched his belongings – all clean,' the Captain frowned. 'You thrive on understanding the whys of a medical mystery. Would you explain how you concluded that he is a suspect'.

'Captain, the fact is ...'.

'Mr. Peet did mention that the boy had been behaving strangely –

absent-minded – distracted'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Sir,' the Doctor strived to regain his ground. 'I was merely hypothesising – it is a strange happening – I think we all agree to that'.

Tom had wrenched himself from his dreams to follow the conversation. The men's voices oated above him and drizzled into his mind. The voices were dif cult to hear through the splitting and tearing pain in his brain. He wanted to go back to sleep but not to dream. Just dead sleep. Yet, something on the edge of his consciousness worried him.

He would have to open his eyes. He had to know what the words meant.

With effort, he took a shallow breath and cracked open his left eye.

'Captain, I understand that he is just a boy, but one never knows what a human is capable of if they have been pushed. I wonder if we should– erm – restrain him. He is potentially dangerous?'

Tom's brain was muddy and slow-moving, but he sensed a threat. He manoeuvred his gaze to the other side of the bed and through pure strength of will found the Captain's eyes. His Captain's grim face oated above him, but his eyes pierced through the gauze of pain and fear.

'Absolutely not. Indeed, a little hot chocolate would do him the world of good,' the Captain dipped his head and winked.

'But Captain ...' the Doctor spluttered.

'Give this child the best care possible – he has been through a terrible ordeal,' the Captain turned to go, 'give him a dose of morphine immediately and after a long sleep, I prescribe hot chocolate – buckets of it. I shall return at 14:00'.



Antigone did not take a bath. Instead, she hobbled back to her room.

Each step was an effort. The terror and thrill of the last twenty-four hours had evaporated, and she was left with an emptiness that was more vast than she could have imagined possible. She was only going back to her cabin because she had no other place to go. She did not want to see or speak to anyone, especially not Pearl.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'I was wonder'n when you'd show up,' Pearl said tartly. She was sitting in the window seat, fully dressed, the Tranter resting on her lap.

Her red hair fell around her shoulders in messy clumps. The long night and too much time to think had made her jumpy.

'Expecting company,' Antigone nodded at the pistol.

'I was expecting something – wish it wasn't you,' Pearl turned her face away.

'Did you actually want me to hear that?'

'What if I did, AN-TIG-ON-E or whatever your name might be. What is it hey? Some posh name like Camilla or Josephine or Zadie,' Pearl spat out the names.

'Zadie – ZADIE! What kind of degrading, calumnious, belittling name is that? You are a horrible, horrible girl,' Antigone closed in on Pearl. Right now, more than anything in the world, the thought of pulling Pearl's hair out strand by strand was deliriously enticing.

Pearl lifted her chin to her attacker, 'slap me again, go on, I dare you –

I said go ...'

Antigone grabbed a hunk of hair and yanked with all her might. Pearl buckled and lilted, she fumbled at her hair trying to pull it out of Antigone's st, but she was in an iron vice. Pearl tumbled onto her knees and dropped the gun. She clutched blindly at her hair and jerked hard.

Antigone lost her grip and watched helplessly as Pearl's head recoiled and smashed into the sink. Pearl she didn't seem to notice—

'Cor blimey, are you alright? I am so sorry, I should have seen,' Pearl's face crumpled, 'you're hurt, you're bleeding'. She pointed to Antigone's skirt.

Pearl scrambled over Antigone and straddled her. She stuffed a dirty pile of laundry under Antigone's head, snatched a face-washer off the sink and pitched it over Antigone's face. Soapy suds pooled into her ears.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Boots off rst, stockings off second – no sign of cuts around the ankles – well thank goodness for small mercies – but all this blood –

Ohhhh, ohhh, please tell me you weren't hurt real bad – I'LL KILL EM – I WILL'. Pearl's heart lled with dread. She dumped Antigone's legs and scrabbled to cradle her head. Rocking it furiously and squeezing tightly.

'Stop,' Antigone choked out. She wanted to say it was alright, she was ne, but instead, her body started to convulse and jerk. Her arms jiggled uncontrollably, and breath gurgled in her throat.

'Oh, dear Lord. Don't you go dying. Don't die on me, Antigone –

PLEASE,' Pearl wailed.

Antigone peeled off the face-washer. Tears streamed from the corners of her eyes. She battled to catch her breath but every time she opened her mouth, her ribs tightened—

'I ... can't ... breathe ... I ... am ... going to wet ... to wet ... my ... bloomers if I don't stop ... la ... la ... laughing', Antigone cracked up and began snar ng. Pearl sobbed and laughed. It was minutes before the girls fell into weary peace.

To Antigone, the room took on a supernatural hue. The colours were vivid and sparkling, and her body melted into liquid.

'I was worried about you – you daft chicken,' Pearl wiped damp strands of hair off Antigone's face.

'Really?' Antigone hiccupped.

'Yes, I was cross me heart. With all your ne education you don't know much about friendship do you'. Pearl ipped red hair off her shoulder, 'I got feelings, proper deep ones, and you might not guess it because I am tough, but – but – but you upset me,' Pearl bit her ngernail.

'I didn't mean to be so rude to you, it's just that I got these – strong emotions – that be all'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

Antigone had no energy to sit up. The crazed adrenaline was entirely used up and so was she. Her eyes shut.

'Oi, you can't sleep on the oor'.

'I am so tired'.

'Know the feeling,' Pearl yawned and placed a blanket over her friend.

'Sleep tight and don't let the bed bugs bite,' Pearl climbed up to her bunk fully dressed. The door wasn't locked but neither of them knew or cared. It felt like the parade was over. The circus had gone home, and they could nally relax.



Portia purred in her sleep. Vivienne was forbidden to call it snoring so purring it was. After the funeral, the ladies sipped tea and decided it would be best to take a long nap. Vivienne lay looking at the ceiling with heavy questions lurking in the corners of her mind. But they would not make themselves clear. She felt an odd stirring inside her; like waking up and feeling as though you've somehow missed Christmas. She turned her head to look at her sister. Portia was not an old lady, although she behaved like one, she always had.

The bed squeaked as Vivienne slipped her legs over the edge and stood up. She padded to the mirror and looked at herself properly. She was not an old lady either, I'm young enough to have adventures she thought. Vivienne pulled her hair this way and that, and my hair isn't grey, it's blond – she's just jealous. Her mind wandered to Tom, what was it about the boy that forced her to get involved? And precisely how she had become involved in a theft, an abduction, and a death was impossible to fathom; but she had become involved and it was not over. Vivienne glanced around the room bewildered, it was time for her to start living. To make her own decisions. To be her own person. It was time.

'Where are you going, Vivienne?'

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Tom, I am going to visit him and take him some grapes – if I can nd some'.

'You can't go alone'.

'I am and I am going now'.

'Vivienne,' Portia croaked, her face crestfallen, 'it's Monday and you are wearing your Thursday dress'.

'It's just a dress dear. A dress with no hidden agenda'.



Ravi Bloom and Viresh returned to their suite. It had been cleaned, the beds made, cushions plumped and most importantly the bathtub sparkled.

'Goody gumdrops,' Ravi grinned.

'Age before beauty,' Viresh waddled towards the bathroom.

The men were covered in grime and blood and both desperate to wash. Ravi opened the bathroom door, 'you rst old man, I believe you are correct – but just this once, age before beauty'.

Viresh didn't hesitate. Age was catching up to him. He was bruised, tired and emotionally exhausted. He had thought that his beloved Ravi Bloom was dead. It was not an uncommon occurrence, but age was taking its toll and sometimes Viresh found himself inexplicably weeping.

Either from the shock of thinking, Ravi was dead or remembering Ravi as a sweet little cherub, sneaking into his dreams, or breaking into his memories. Viresh gingerly lowered his body into the hot, soapy water.

Pretty tendrils of steam curled into the air. They had lost the stone but were not in danger and neither thankfully was Pearl and Miss Antigone.

Viresh let himself relax. He would face the many questions and judgements in India but for now, Ravi was alive and, in his heart, that was more important than the stone.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

Ravi unbuckled his sword and let it drop onto the ground. It landed soundlessly. A pot of hot tea and two china cups and saucers were waiting to be lled. His bed sheets were turned down and pillows plumped. The room was hushed and spotless, just as he liked it. He stretched his long body out on the bed and closed his eyes. The urge to fall into trance was profound, even without Viresh at his side. Ravi hesitated. Astral travel could be dangerous on his own, but the desire was strong, pulling him under.

Soon Ravi was ying through the clouds. His body weightless, his mind uid and concentrated. Without effort he changed course and plummeted, sliding deftly through the surface and deep down to the darkness of the sea. Ravi let himself glide back and forth with the slow tidal current. The stone had to have fallen in this area, even allowing for the current. The seabed was ridged like desert sand, and empty apart from a few scattered shells. There was no sign of the Ashoka Stone. It should be here. Ravi felt confusion stirring. If the stone was not in the sea, then where was it? Was it possible that Rudolph oated away with the current? Or was the stone in the stomach of a shark? Ravi let his spirit rise through the darkness and into the bright shafts of light cutting through the surface of the waves. Something was gnawing at the edge of his mind. It was holding him back from seeing. From going deeper. Could it be that Rudolph didn't drown? Surely, he was dead? Ravi had witnessed it. Ravi had caused it.

On the bed, Ravi's body stirred. His face pinched with effort. He would have to travel back a few hours in time, back to the moment when Rudolph dived off the ship to be certain he was dead. To nd the stone. It could be dangerous, and he could not change events.

'Sahib,' Viresh stood over his master, moustache dripping onto Ravi's face.

'Sahib,' wake up. Ravi's soul dived deeper into the sea but Viresh was insistent, shaking his body, calling his name. And with a horrid jolt, Ravi plunged back into his body, his face taut with frustration.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Next time you wait for me, Sahib,' Viresh covered Ravi with a soft blanket, 'rest now and later – much later, we nd the stone'.



It was an odd sensation. Vivienne's feet padded down the hallways, past groups of happy diners, and people organizing bridge parties; they seemed surreal. Everything was suddenly and irrevocably different. For the rst time she regarded her peers with irritation. All around her was wealth. An embarrassing display of wealth. Glittering jewels, needless tiaras, men with too much money and not enough brains. Vivienne dropped her gaze to the oor and walked faster. She was one of these people, one of these mindless travellers. She had never done a day's work in her life and now her cheeks stung with shame. She was determined to change everything – her whole life. Starting now.

'Honestly – it could have been far worse, concussion, loss of memory

...' the Doctor tapped out his pipe and re lled it with clumps of sweet-smelling tobacco.

'Goodness me,' Vivienne said.

'No cause for alarm, the boy has a very bad headache. I dare say it will be fully subsided when he wakes up'.

'Will he be in trouble Doctor – for being involved in this ghastly business?'

The Doctor turned to Vivienne, 'you are quite invested in this boy.

May I inquire why?' Vivienne shrugged—

'I suppose I feel sorry for him. For a young boy to be attacked – so mistreated'.

'I beg your pardon Madam – attacked?'

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Indeed, the rst time I saw Tom was yesterday. Portia and I interrupted an assault,' Vivienne lowered her voice, 'the man we buried this morning – it was his partner or employer – an unsavoury fellow – he shoved Tom against the wall – we arrived just in time and then – then for the boy to have been involved again – in another vicious attack'.

Vivienne's hand uttered to her lips.

The Doctor was a kind man, but also suspicious and overcautious. He was intolerant of liars and thieves; he imagined Tom to be both. He was not, however, hard-hearted. He had a very soft heart for the ladies and Vivienne, though past her youth was like a single forget-me-not ower.

He took both Vivienne's hands in his with the hope of calming her. She smelt like Eau de rose.

'He deserves kindness, he deserves – someone – someone ...'

Vivienne trailed off. She was following her instinct to support Tom, but if she mentioned a woman's intuition or feelings, the doctor would prescribe bed rest. She retrieved her hands and straightened her spine—

'The child, for that is what he is, has been through a horrid experience that I doubt many of us would recover from. I felt I needed to bring him these sad looking grapes'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

## CHAPTER NINETEEN

### PLESANT AND UNPLESANT SURPRISES

Only you can decide your destiny.

Clarence L' Amour

Between bouts of maniacal laughter, tears, inspected bumps, cuts, and one spectacular lost tooth; it was fair to say conversation had gone a full circle and their friendship had settled into a warm silence.

'Ravi?' Pearl jimmied herself towards Ravi who was ensconced in the overstuffed armchair, 'Ravi?'

'Pearl leave him be, he's sleeping,' Antigone whispered. Pearl glowered.

'What's wrong now?'

'What do you mean what's wrong now, all you need to know about it is - nothing,' Pearl smoothed down her crumpled skirt. Viresh raised a bushy eyebrow and Tom subtly adjusted the angle of his head to watch the reworks.

'And you can wipe that expression off your face,' Pearl snapped at Tom, 'and don't you think it's time to get back to work?

'Em, let me think about that,' Tom yawned, stretched and popped his hands behind his head, 'King of the road here thanks,' Tom grinned.

Pearl huffed and turned back to the task at hand which was waking Ravi.

Although it was obvious to everyone that he was not asleep.

'My dear girl, let the fellow rest, he is exhausted,' Viresh gently removed Pearl's hand from Ravi's arm.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Nonsense, I am bright eyed and bushy-tailed,' Ravi yawned and smiled radiantly, 'was it something important Pearl?'

'Um – not important so much as –'.

Ravi yawned again; loudly. There was a game of dodge going on and it reminded Antigone of the time Jane was being courted by Jonathon Hardy and she was in a perpetual state of anxiety trying to avoid him. She made up all sorts of excuses trying not to hurt his feelings.

'If it's not important, shall we call it a day,' Ravi suggested getting to his feet. With an elegant sweep of his hand, he smoothly helped Pearl to her feet.

'Well, I know when I've had enough of a good thing,' Tom took the opportunity to heave himself to standing. He had consumed the better part of a jelly tri e and looked punch drunk, 'I know that because I keep tasting jelly and cream'. Everyone groaned. Tom rubbed his belly, 'it was, you know, I can honestly say that this is the rst time in me life that I've had enough,' he bowed respectfully to Ravi and Viresh, 'thanks to the both of you Sirs, I truly mean it'.

'I know you do Tom and we thank you,' Ravi returned the bow,

'would you be a gentleman and escort Pearl to her cabin'.

'Aye-aye captain,' Tom saluted.

'What,' Pearl shoved Tom back down onto the couch, 'and why is she not being escorted back to the cabin?'

'I need a few words with, Miss Finch,' Ravi said evenly.

'Oh yeah, and why would that be? Surely you can share in front of us all,' Pearl quipped. She stood like a goddess of war, hands-on hips and ready for battle.

Antigone felt her back stiffen. Pearl jabbed her nger in the air at Antigone—

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'What's she got that I haven't?'

'Pearl, we are ...' Ravi stopped to frame his thoughts, 'I am so incredibly grateful; without your help, I could be dead'.

Pearl snorted, 'true right; and?'

'And without you, our last few weeks would not have been so colourful, so bright. You are clever Pearl. Not a patch on any other girl your age - not in London, not in Bombay'. Ravi handed Pearl his handkerchief.

'We all appreciate you and I know that Viresh has become overly attached to you'. Viresh nodded. So did his moustache which drew a small smile from Pearl.

'But what about you Ravi? why don't you never want to talk with me

... alone?' Pearl's lip began to wobble 'don't ya like me? - You prefer HER,'

she jabbed her thumb at Antigone. 'I swear, if you like her more, I will get blooming hysterical, I have done so much for you - I would – I would – I ...'.

'Pearl it's not what you think,' Antigone took a step closer.

Pearls eyes narrowed, 'why would you go and say a thing like that?

You got something to hide?'

Everyone in the room forgot to exhale as Pearl's lips got tighter and her eyes smaller, 'you two got something to hide?'

Ravi Bloom stood up slowly, his eyes blazing. Pearl saw him clench his sts and took a step back. She knew she had gone too far this time.

'I am rapidly losing patience with you Pearl – I have no time for petty behaviour'.

'But I didn't mean ...' Pearl's face went deathly white.

'An irrational mind is dangerous. I think we overestimated your maturity, your ability to think clearly,' Ravi's anger caved and transformed into something far worse for Pearl, disappointment.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

Tears gathered on Pearl's eyelashes. She was too humiliated to run away or even move. Viresh was astounded that Pearl had not taken his advice. They had had so many talks about Ravi. Viresh sighed, he had also fallen, like a brand-new parent, hopelessly in love. He wanted to protect Pearl from any more hardship, but she also needed to learn.

'First love is an impossible friend but there are many loves in a single lifetime. Never just one my dear, but many, many, many'.

'Hoy, that's ... hiccup ...

a ... shudde ...

r bit personal ain't it ... hiccup,'

Pearl began to drag the back of her sleeve over her nose but Viresh caught her hand before contact and tilted her chin down, so she was forced to look him in the eyes.

'There are many kinds of love and we must embrace them all, even when they come from unexpected places'.

'Eh?' Pearl moved from foot to foot. She was uncomfortable. She felt stupid for making a scene and stupid because everyone was trying not to stare. But what was Viresh saying – exactly?

'I don't know what you mean Viresh'.

'I am saying that you are loved. Just not in the way you think you want'. Viresh opened his arms. Pearl gaped. His words ew through her head, then into her body like an electric jolt. In an instant, the ght was gone. Pearl's shoulders sagged and she leaned into the old man as though for the rst time, in a long time, she had come home.

Viresh had come to love Pearl as he loved Ravi. That should be enough for he ,r he thought. It would be enough. The cabin descended into rich silence. Ravi, Tom, and Antigone, Pearl and Viresh were kinsmen, a strange new family.

It was Tom who raised himself from the stupor, 'toodle-oo then. I'd better get meself to wherever I'm needed,' he said unhurriedly.

'We need you here Tom,' Ravi said plainly.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

Tom's face clouded, 'I did a terrible thing. That Rudolf would never have gotten his horrible hands on your stone if it wasn't for me. I will feel dreadful guilty about it – forever'.

'Forever is highly unnecessary,' Ravi said.

'That's real nice of ya, but I gotta pay my dues'.

Ravi smiled, 'there are no dues Tom. We all make decisions – good and bad – every day. You have made some exceptional decisions, that is unequivocal. Do you see what I am saying?'

Tom nodded but the expression on his face said otherwise.

'We are humans and humans are not two shades. We are not only good or bad, but we are also sensitive and complex, we are stupid and smart; well some of us are stupid,' Ravi nodded towards Pearl.

'I deserved that, I did,' Pearl said stoically.

'We are trying every day to be aware of the shades of our character –

our good decisions and our bad. With practice, we make better choices, we become smarter, more sensitive'.

Tom's little body decompressed, 'Shall I escort you back to your cabin Pearl?' he said gently.

'I suppose I better learn to listen, isn't that right Viresh? Also, I am dead sorry Antigone, that is the last time, I promise'.

'Forgotten already,' Antigone gave Pearl a playful shove.

Ravi closed the door and cocked his eyebrow at Viresh—

'I knew you were getting soft over Pearl. This old man has a charming habit of collecting strays. It's one of his sweetest attributes'.

'Stop,' Viresh frowned and lifted a nger to his lips.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Come on old man, you do have a big heart,' Ravi said.

'Shhh ... listen,' Viresh hissed. Ravi listened. Outside the room was total silence.

'That's not right, we should be able to hear her caterwauling from here to eternity,' Viresh crept towards the door.

Antigone had not noticed anything. But it was unusual to not hear Pearl's voice trail off into the bowels of the ship. Viresh turned to her and raised a nger to his lips. He drew out a long thin knife he kept tucked into his boot. Ravi tensed like a snake ready to strike.

'Viresh wait,' I said. The hairs on the back of Antigone's arms stood on end.

'Viresh turned around, terrifying eyes on her, 'shhh'.

'Wait,' Antigone said again, half standing up. Viresh hissed at her but Antigone had been too slow.

An ear-splitting boom pitched them backward. Antigone tumbled onto the couch and squeezed her hands against her ringing ears. Ravi froze, stunned while the door smashed open into Viresh.

Antigone screamed. He was back, as real as life itself, standing like an omen of death at the door. His clothes hung off him in stained strips, his face white as a ghost and in his hands were two black pistols.

'Not possible old chap,' Ravi moved towards the apparition. It tensed and raised the pistols. One straight towards Ravi's head and the other aimed between Viresh's eyes.

'You're alive?' Ravi scanned the room for a weapon. Stating the obvious to postpone forthcoming death was the rst thing he learnt in spy school.

'You are korrekt, and zis whole time I zought you were stupid,'

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Not as stupid as those who forget to knock,' Ravi spun the tri e bowl towards Rudolph's head. Rudolph swerved. Jelly and custard plastered the wall behind him. His face ared red and his eyes bulged like fat re ies. Ravi glanced at Rudolf's hands. They jittered and jumped as though he was hypothermic. Be carefu ,l Ravi sent the thought to Viresh.

Whether Viresh received it or not was another matter. He was rmly focused on the gun aimed at his head.

They were not dealing with cold exposure. They were dealing with a mad man and one thing was certain; there is no reasoning with madness.

Ravi lowered himself into the chair. He had no weapon. He had to stay alive as long as possible, as long as it took for Viresh to kill Rudolph.

Antigone slid to the oor and crept behind the remains of the door.

'Let me elucidate you,' Rudolph waved his gun under Viresh's nose. 'I am here for one thing only and zat is to destroy you'. A black grin stretched his cheeks to bursting, 'but why not have some fun rst, why not see what secrets the strange creature has for me. He took another step closer, eyeing Viresh's knife, 'do you think you can kill me with that bit of tin – throw it to the oor'. Viresh did as he was told and took a few steps back, closer to Ravi.

'Won't you have a seat,' Ravi said coolly. He wanted Rudolph to feel like he was in control. At this point, the man was out of his mind. It was an awkward situation but together Ravi and Viresh had faced worse.

'May I sit?' Viresh indicated to the oor next to Ravi's seat. He had no idea what move Ravi would make. The best position for him would be defence.

'Two little birds in one pie, yes you may sit next to your master,'

Rudolph indicated that Ravi make room for Viresh on his seat. Viresh squeezed his wide bottom in as best he could. Rudolph giggled. His eyes full of malice—

'Two little birds – two little birds, one is round, and the other is absurd'

Rudolph sang. He conducted the pistols to an invisible orchestra.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Tell me little birds, why is your ridiculous country so desperate to have ...' Rudolph pulled out the Ashoka Stone 'ta-da'. He dangled it from the tatty piece of leather that had hung around Pearl's neck for so long.

Viresh swallowed a gasp, his body tensed like a tiger ready to pounce but Ravi pressed his knee against Viresh's leg.

'The stone was stolen from our land. It is valuable only in that it is ancient. Sentimental you might say,' Ravi replied smoothly.

'Nonsense, you lie,' Rudolph narrowed his eyes, 'perhaps we can trade; this little sparrow for all your secrets'. Rudolph's eyes lit with delight,

'come out little sparrow, come out'. Antigone unwound her body and pushed herself up from the oor. She felt resigned. By now nothing could surprise her; except maybe, her own strength.

'Come zit with me sparrow,' Rudolph gestured for Antigone to sit by his feet. Rudolph turned his gaze on her. 'And you, vhy iz a girl of your class travelling half-way across ze world without a lady's maid, hmm? I vonder why zis little sparrow left ze nest. You cannot fool me sparrow'.

Ravi clenched the chair. Rudolf glanced at Ravi -

'Ah, I zee your weakness is for za girl,' he picked up a lock of Antigone's hair and rubbed it between his thumb and ngers.

'No more casualties Rudolph,' Ravi said evenly, 'I am ready to negotiate'.

'You zink yourself so important. But you are not. Zere is no negotiation. Zere is simply your death – and his – and hers,' Rudolph pointed his guns at them one at a time and giggled.

Viresh had been sitting stock still, every bre in his being taught and ready to snap. Antigone's eyes were glued to the guns. She was terri ed.

Rudolph was insane and Ravi ... what was Ravi doing? Viresh could feel Ravi's body slacken. He hoped his master had not decided to leave his body now in the middle of everything. Viresh swivelled his head to get a look into Ravi's eyes. As he suspected they were vacant.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Ask me anything and I will answer you as honestly as possible,'

Viresh offered an olive branch to Rudolph, in a calm, dry tone. Rudolph focused his small, bright eyes on Viresh and then back at Ravi, 'your master is a weakling – just look at him, a vegetable'.

'Yes,' Viresh agreed, 'he fainted, the shock I suppose'.

'Throw ice on him, ice vater. Zat will vake the veakling,'

'No, it is better that I answer all your questions...honestly'.

Rudolph considered the proposition.

'I will answer everything, but I have one request,' Viresh said smoothly.

'Vat?'

'Release the girl'.

Rudolph giggled and hiccupped, 'you are all my prisoners and I may do as I please'.

Antigone felt the last vestiges of hope drain away. In her mind was a clear image of a white sandy beach, warm sun and the voice of Charlotte saying, you can explore the darkest jungles and the hottest deserts – on elephants – or camels. Antigone's dreams were about to be dashed. She imagined the misery and humiliation of marrying Charles; the cousins jeering behind her back. Both scenarios were different kinds of death.

Bump, bump, bump; Rudolph bumped into Antigone as he oundered.

'Get off,' she growled in a low voice. Something familiar was happening. A wave of steely determination to survive gripped her and before she had time to think, Antigone swivelled her head and bit down hard into the eshy calf of Rudolph's leg. Rudolph screeched. The screech fed her anger and she bit deeper and harder into his esh.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

Viresh leapt to his feet. Rudolf lashed the guns about wildly.

Thankfully had not yet been red. Viresh pushed Ravi's thin frame to the oor hoping to protect him from stray bullets. He had a feeling Ravi was trying to do something extremely dangerous but now was not the time to challenge him. He had to tread water, to divert Rudolph. Viresh leapt over the chair and scooped up an of cial-looking folder bursting with documents.

'Hey Rudolph,' Viresh called. Rudolph's greedy eyes landed on the folder. He took a faltering step, but his body spontaneously slackened.

'I'll swap you this for the girl,' Viresh added. Antigone detached herself and edged back. Rudolph was behaving strangely. He shook his head and blindly lurched forward. The guns sagged. Viresh and Antigone locked eyes. Something was very off.

'Get out,' Rudolph screamed at Viresh.

'I say again GET OUT,' Rudolph beat the guns against his head.

'Viresh,' Antigone yelped. Viresh held up his hand in warning. She sank back down to the oor. Her pupils dilated and black. Rudolph was swaying now, his bulbous eyes turning back into his skull. One at a time the pistols fell from his hands. It seemed as if Rudolph was also going to pass out but instead, he slipped his hand into his pocket and withdrew the stone.

'Here you are old man, take this before the fat lump wakes up,'

Rudolph threw the stone Viresh.

'Sahib?' Viresh caught the stone and pocketed it. A broad smile lifted his whiskers.

'Better tie me up too, I don't think we need an unhinged German spy manhandling us, do we Antigone dear'. Antigone's mouth moved but nothing came out.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Anything else in there,' Viresh asked securing Rudolph's arms behind his back.

'Only that this will be his last mission,' Rudolph laughed darkly. This is where it became dangerous for Ravi. Not only did he have to take over Rudolph's body, but he had to touch the horrid man's soul and it was black as pitch. Rudolph's malice seeped into Ravi's wavering soul. Ravi faltered and Rudolph fought hard. The urge to vomit engorged the veins in his Rudolph's neck and spittle foamed in the corners of his mouth. Ravi quivered, he tried to push through Rudolph's personality, but his heart and soul were strong. A smoggy black mist edged its way across Ravi's vision. He had to leave Rudolph's body before he was absorbed completely.

'Help me,' Rudolph moaned and then a louder, harsher 'NIEN'. Viresh dumped Rudolph's body and rushed to Ravi. Ravi was breathing in short, shallow breaths. His face was clammy and cold. Viresh panicked. If he didn't rouse Ravi, he would be gone – forever,'

'Sahib,' Viresh shook Ravi hard but his body lay limp, a horrid blue hue crept into his lips.

'What's going on, what's happened to him' Antigone scrabbled over but Viresh could not answer. He needed to think fast. He needed to wake Ravi's soul, lure it back. But how? Viresh's eyes swept the room. What could he use, what could he do? Nothing was coming to him. He sat on the side table and dropped his head into his hands. Antigone looked up at him horri ed.

'You have to do something – you have to do something NOW,'

Antigone shrieked.

'But what,' Viresh pounded his head with his sts.

'What do you normally do when this happens?'

'This has never happened, Antigone'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Then think fast, how much time we do have left?'

Viresh did not want to open his eyes and see the state of Ravi. His bravery was failing. He was failing.

'Viresh,' Antigone said rmly.

'Not long,' Viresh took Ravi's wrist, 'he has a dull pulse.

'What does he love the most, what would bring him back?' Antigone urged. Viresh smiled sadly, 'his most favourite thing in the whole wide world is a bath'. Instantaneously Antigone and Viresh felt a whir of excitement.

'Fill the bath,' Viresh ordered.

'Ice-cold?'

'Ice-cold - you clever girl'.

It did not take long for the bath to ll with ice-cold water. Viresh hoisted Ravi into the bath fully dressed.

'Keep his head up, I'll be back in a second'. Antigone did as she was told. Ravi's lips were still blue, but his body felt warm under her hands,

'thank goodness,' she whispered. Viresh was back hyperventilating and rummaging through a small bag with glass vials.

'Must make sure I have the right one,' Viresh's hands shook, 'must make sure it's not the arsenic,' a bottle smashed on the oor. Antigone gasped.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Just the arsenic, never mind, I think it is this one, I am sure it is this one,' Viresh smashed the top of the vile off the edge of the bathtub.

Splinters of glass ew around the room. Antigone looked morti ed. Viresh said a quick silent prayer, opened Ravi's mouth and tipped the clear liquid into his throat. Viresh's eyes were wild. Antigone looked down at Ravi.

There was no change. Behind them in the bedroom Rudolph tossed and groaned as if he was trapped in a terrible nightmare.

'Viresh I'm frightened'.

Viresh nodded but couldn't speak. He had stopped breathing.

Seconds ticked by.

Finally, Ravi's body shuddered and jerked. His eyes ew open and rolled back. The whites stared blindly out. Antigone screamed and dropped his head into the water. Viresh froze, unable to move. The scene seemed to slow down. Time stood still.



Ravi woke up in his bed. Flowers that were a little worse for wear, dotted his suite. The far-off thrum of the engines welcomed him back. It took a few moments for Ravi to get his bearings, to remember who he was and where he was. Viresh had been by his side for the past week.

Dripping sugar water into Ravi's mouth and changing pyjamas. He had not left the room and had not allowed a single visitor. Antigone, Pearl, and Tom had had to bide their time. There was very little they could do except for sleep off the shock and eat as many hot dinners as possible. The excitement and danger had made them all ravenous.

'Viresh, old man,' Ravi's voice grated over his dry throat.

'Sahib,' Viresh looked down at his master, a tender smile touched his eyes, and 'I thought I had lost you – again!'.

'I am unlosable,' Ravi grinned.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'We shall see,' Viresh tried to put aside his fears that Ravi might have left some of himself in Rudolph. Ravi noticed the wave of thoughts cloud Viresh's face.

'A small sacri ce but one that had to be made,' Ravi closed his eyes. It would be a long recovery, 'absolutely starving old man, could you rustle up a boiled egg or two'. Viresh leaned down and planted a soft kiss on Ravi's forehead. Things were back to normal.



The next few weeks passed in comfort. Antigone had decided that it would be impossible to disguise herself as something other than what she was. It was too confusing. Pearl helped her to create a new Antigone Finch. An upper-class girl on her way to India to meet with a government of cial for something of cially secret. Which was very close to the truth.

Each day now, the girls would swing open their window and let the warm breeze ll the room. It was impossible not to be happy. They strolled up and down the deck soaking up the sun and sharing secrets. One day Antigone would introduce Pearl to Charlotte and Jane, and Nancy too.

'Move to the right a bit Pearl, I want to get the water behind you,'

Antigone peered through the lens of her Brownie camera and clicked.

'Oi, what about me, hey?' Tom teased, 'don't you want my beautiful mug in the picture?'

'Of course, move in there with Pearl,' Antigone grinned.

'Can I try taking a photograph,' said Pearl shyly, 'I would love to learn'.

Antigone showed her how to frame the picture and get the very best light.

'Alrigh' then, your turn Tiggs – let's get you a good one, for that newspaper you is going to write to'. Pearl snapped a photo of Antigone leaning on the railing, long hair billowing in the wind. The girls looked for all the world, like normal teenagers except that Antigone was wearing her britches. Sleeves rolled to the elbows and not a corset in sight.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'There is one thing I still don't understand,' Tom crossed his arms and lifted his face to the sky, catching the lasts warm rays of sun.

'Oh yar, and what would that be?' Pearl drawled.

'I wonder how Rudolph got back onto the ship – I mean the fall itself should have killed him,' Tom leaned over the rail. It is a long way down.

'Maybe he has mystical powers like Ravi,' Pearl shuddered and crossed herself.

'Na, no-one has anything like that. Mr. Bloom is special,' Tom popped a toffee in his mouth. Since his misadventure, Vivienne had been sending him piles of sweets.

'What you got today then?' Pearl peered into the little bag Tom was holding.

'Caramel Toffee Twists,' Tom handed them round. 'They are alright, but I prefer chocolate fudge with mint sugar'.

'I like em all,' Pearl popped one in her mouth and a couple in her pocket for later.

A ginger-haired boy about the same age as Tom swayed towards them with a small silver tray.

'You ain't never going to nd your sea legs are you, Bill?' Tom took the small yellow envelope off the tray.

'Afraid not – just between you and me,' Bill looked around to make sure none of the other porters could hear him, 'I am going to try me luck in India – one of the fancy hotels'. Bill winked and staggered back across the deck.

'I swear he is rocking more than the ship,' Pearl grimaced.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Antigone, can you help me read this. Think I got it gured but just to be on the safe side,' Tom handed over the note.

Dear Tom,

P tia and I would be delighted if you

Would join us f dinner tonight at 19:00 sharp.

You wi nd suitable attire laid out on your bed.

Wi Warm Regards

Vivienne and P tia

PS do not w ry

I have permission f you to come!

'You will have to wash behind your ears Tom,' Antigone teased. Tom slid the note in his pocket and blushed a shade of pink jelly.

'We've got ourselves an invitation for tonight too, don't we Antigone,'

Pearl grinned.

'I'm a bit nervous, I mean we haven't seen him for an entire week.

What if he's – damaged in some way,' Antigone said. It felt like a month had passed.

Pear bit her lip, 'I know, I have been trying not to think of it, but I'm worried'. Pearl looked at Tom's grim expression, 'why don't you join us after dinner – come on'.

Tom nodded and thrust his hands deep in his pockets. He still felt ashamed about stealing the stone.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Forget it, Tom, it's over now – we all make mistakes,' Antigone said.

'We ain't all perfect,' Pearl gave Tom a playful nudge.

'But Mr. Bloom' Tom scrunched his face, 'how can I face him after all he has been though – I mean – he forgave me and all that – but that was before Rudolph came back,' Tom unconsciously felt the bump on the back of his head.

'You can face him, and you will face him, and that is that,' Pearl popped another sweet into her mouth.

'Suppose so. Alright, I'll see you two tonight after dinner, I just hope you are not wrong and I end up in trouble,' Tom nodded at the girls and disappeared into the crowd.

Tom, Pearl, and Antigone were all feeling nervous. The day dragged on and on. The time had arrived for Tom to dine with Vivienne and Portia.

His heart thudded and perspiration leaked down the inside of his shirt and pants. He hoped no one could smell him. He also hoped that his face was not as pink as it felt. Tom gulped and wrenched open the doors to the dining room. They led to a grand stairwell that oated down in a wide, generous curve to the dining room where tables sparkled with gleaming cutlery and dancing shadows from candle ames. The room was muted.

Murmurs and soft conversations swam and vanished. To Tom's left was a small round table where Portia, Vivienne, the Doctor, and Captain sat.

Their heads were huddled together, and the conversation looked serious.

He wondered if it was too late to escape.



'Tom, dear boy,' the Doctor stood up and gestured to the one spare seat at the table. Tom's heart ipped. How on earth was he going to survive this? He walked over and smiled weakly.

'Well, sit down lad,' the Captain's rosy cheeks glinted. His nose a glowing shade of crimson.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Sit down Tom and welcome to ...' Vivienne looked around, 'to the dining room.

'Thank-you Miss Vivienne'. Tom stared at the table dumbfounded.

There were no more than twelve sets of cutlery just for him and a set of crystal glasses of different shapes and sizes. If truth be told, Tom was more comfortable eating with the staff. One knife, one fork, and one spoon.

Portia leaned in and whispered, 'don't worry, I'll show you'. Portia lifted the delicate cocktail fork. 'I do hope you like the salmon mouse,' she said loudly and dipped in her spoon. Tom followed. He was cautious.

Salmon mouse was strange to him. The texture was a little like jelly but with bubbles. He sniffed and tasted a bit on the tip of his tongue. Tom tipped the whole forkful into his mouth. It dissolved like magic and so did the other scoops.

'What is the verdict Tom – a success?' the Captain allowed his plate to be taken away.

'It was by far, the most amazing thing I ever ate'.

'I'm glad you enjoyed it, just wait until you try the pineapple fritters and ice-cream,' the Captain patted his belly, 'always loved my food, even as a lad – tell me Tom – about your life – growing up – every detail'.

Tom told his story as best he could, not missing out on a single detail.

His dif cult plight had a curious effect on the table. All eyes were on him and no one interrupted until he nished his story with the letter from Vivienne that afternoon. Vivienne wiped away a tear and gave Portia a meaningful look.

'Would you say, Tom, that many of the young people working on this ship have, hem, had loses as bad as your own?' the Captain asked.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'We all grew up hard, Captain. The people might be different, the places, the times but we all been through it, we all saw the worst of it,'

Tom scratched his head, 'but I don't want you to feel sorry for me, life is good now, I have this job on the ship – I am ever so grateful'. The Captain smiled sadly and patted Tom's hand.

Vivienne cleared her throat, 'it's just that we feel that you especially have had a very dif cult time and that is not right, not right at all for a young boy,' she glanced at her sister. 'We, that is Portia and I wonder if you would do us the honour of being our boy. We have no children, no nieces, no nephews – would you be our son Tom?'

Tom was hot in his suit. The collar sti ing. This evening has not been what he expected. He took a rm breath -

'I don't understand'.

'We want to make the rest of your life wonderful - please let us do that for you, Tom,' Portia smiled kindly.

'What do you say lad?' the Doctor said. Tom looked at him and the Doctor nodded. It would be alright; everything would be alright.

'I say – yes – yes please – I would love to be your son,' Tom jumped to his feet. He hugged Portia and Vivienne brie y and took the stairs two at a time.

'Few people I got to tell,' Tom called over his shoulder. At the top he turned around and surveyed all their happy faces, 'best day of me life,' he called and took off to nd Antigone and Pearl.



After a long happy meal with Ravi and Viresh, Pearl rolled onto her side holding her belly. The cabin lights were turned down except for the small one over Antigone's bed.

'Whatcha doing,' Pearl dangled her arm over the bed. Antigone reached up and caught her ngers.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'Writing a letter'

'Oh yar, who you writing to?'.

'To the Editor of the London Times, I hope he publishes it. Fingers and toes crossed. I sent a letter before I left but won't know if it was printed until we arrive in India'. Pearl sat up -

'Are you serious – thought you were in hiding!'

It was true that Antigone was in hiding and running away but now she was not so sure. She was running from Mother and Charles but not hiding. Antigone was not the same person who said goodbye to Charlotte and Jane.

'I am running away but I don't want to hide away, I don't want to be scared, if I am going to do this, I am going to have fun and do it my way'.

Antigone sealed the letter and wrote the address. She would have to wait until Bombay to post it, 'Do you think I should write to my Mother and Father, let them know I am safe?'

'How can the likes of you be so smart and so silly all wrapped into one?' Pearl leaned over her bunk and peered at Antigone upside-down,

'let them read about you and squirm – do you think your parent's friends will realise that Antigone Finch is you?'.

'That depends on the photographs – how clear they turn out,'

Antigone grinned 'but how fun if they did, I would still be the talk of the town only now no-one can expel me'.

'Or marry you off,' Pearl hauled herself back onto her bunk. 'don't think I will eat for a week,' she groaned.

'Let us see how you feel in the morning'.



Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

Ravi's room was cast in violet moon light, the curtains were open, and a warm breeze licked at the corners. Ravi and Viresh sat in happy silence. Ravi meditating and Viresh less irritated than usual. Sitting cross-legged had always been a challenge with his short legs, but also his mind crisscrossed continents and hopped from thought to thought. One eye peeked open under his bushy white eyebrow. Rudolph had been dispatched to the bottom of the ship with no means of escape. Pearl and Antigone were fed and hopefully dreaming of good things. By all accounts, Tom had found himself a family of sorts and Viresh was pleased.

Tom would grow into a ne young man with a little guidance from Vivienne and Portia. Now all that was left was to return the Ashoka Stone to the King. From there it would be scurried away to a secret location and many locations after that.

Viresh felt his heart constrict – there was still so much he didn't understand about the stone, about the secret books. He was not certain the books were fables. No-one really knew except perhaps for Ravi. Ravi's face was cast in shadow, but he had a soft smile on his lips and his head tilted up to the stars. One thing Viresh was certain about was that for now, Ravi was safe, and they were going home.

Ravi sat before a small re on the warm, red dirt. Above him, thousands of stars littered the sky. There was no breeze, but he caught the scent of spinifex and desert oak. This was a forever place. Time was everywhere and everything and it was only Anatjari's black eyes that kept Ravi from slipping into the dreaming. Their conversation took place over many hours or days, Ravi could not be sure. He felt asleep for a long time and then slowly it would dawn on him that he was not asleep, not dreaming—

'But, should I nd Mohamed and destroy the book?' Ravi's thought sighed out of him like a dying breath.

'Mohamed is the destiny of the book – only him'. Anatjari gazed across the desert, 'I have dwelt too long'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

Ravi watched Anatjari walk away, further and further until he was swallowed by the night. Ravi's mind wavered again. Was he asleep or dreaming? he could not be sure.

'Go now Ravi Bloom, return to your body before you forget,' Anatjari's voice lifted Ravi to his feet, and like a sleepwalker, he too began to walk until his form faded and disappeared.

By the time Ravi opened his eyes, it was morning. Viresh had fallen asleep with his head on Ravi's lap. Night had turned into day and a rich orange sun coloured the day. Ravi eased himself up. The battle was not over. It was not won but for now, they had done their best.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

## CHAPTER TWENTY

### INDIA

Yesterday I was different. Today I am the same.

Tomorrow is a mystery. I shal always change.

V.L.W

Antigone Z. Finch

En Route to Elsewhere

March 1895

To the Editor of The Times,

This is my rst instalment as promised. You will be both shocked and surprised to read that I survived the rst leg of my journey. That is not to say I didn't have adventures. I did. I managed to survive my rst kidnapping and second. I survived a nasty concussion and escaped from a few rather perilous situations. All in all, it has been eventful. I have encountered villains of the most heinous kind and kindness of the most sublime. I have made friends of a chambermaid and a boy with less education than a dust mite but the heart of a lion. Ah, I see you squirm; what is a well-bred young lady doing with these unworthy companions you ask.

Let me explain all I have learnt. The rst is that being born into wealth does not produce intelligence, bravery, or loyalty. Blueblood does not entitle one to integrity or respect. Class is earned, not a birth right.

Learning this has been a humiliating, humbling and damn exhausting.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

The second thing I have learnt is that love is found in uncommon places, between uncommon people and makes a family out of strangers. If I had not shed my ne dresses and comfortable life, I would never have believed human kindness to shine so brightly - even in the bleakest of corners.

Now I have a confession to make. I did not pack away my skirts until today. For that, you might think me a hypocrite. But to be fair, I had not realized that changing clothes required rst, a change of heart, a change of perspective and a dash of faith. We are almost at the port of Bombay, the sun is shining, and nally, I feel I have gained the con dence to change into trousers. They scratch a little and are not particularly comfortable, but I have earned them.

This is my second letter to you, dear gentleman Editor and someday I hope with all my heart, I may address my letters to the Madam Editor.

Your humble servant,

Antigone Z. Finch

PS Attached is a photograph of myself and new friends on the Empress of India.



The Empress eased herself into the dock. Antigone, Pearl, and Tom leaned over the railing and waved to the children throwing owers and garlands below.

'Have to pinch meself, can't believe we are real-life here,' Pearl fanned herself with a handkerchief, 'blooming hot but'.

'Hot ain't the word it's positively roasting,' Tom loosened his collar.

Vivienne had insisted he dress like a gentleman and he was hoping about uncomfortably in a multitude of tight, London-weather layers.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'You'll get used to it Tom,' Antigone adjusted her trousers. She would have to nd even cooler trousers if she were going to survive in thirty-degree heat. But right now, she didn't give a g about her trousers. They had arrived. She had arrived. Now her adventures would truly begin.

Ravi and Viresh joined the three friends on deck. They both wore white turbans and loose white smocks over chandras. Viresh's moustache looked freshly washed and waxed and the little golden ring shimmered in the hot light. He took a deep satisfying breath—

'Methinks this is the smell of home,' he said happily.

'The smell of home, indeed old man,' Ravi put his arm across Viresh's shoulders.

'Pearl, could I speak with you for a moment in private,' Ravi said.

Pearl's eyes bulged.

'Why? Only if I ain't in trouble. Pearl and Ravi moved just out of ear shot of the others and looked down at the hubbub of colour and chaos.

'Hem-hem,' Ravi cleared his throat, 'Viresh and I could not have solved this little problem of ours without you. As I remarked earlier, you are clever and brave. It would be wonderful to have you on our team, to help us on,' Ravi looked around and lowered his voice, 'on other missions'.

Pearl squealed and drove towards Ravi for a hug, but he gently pushed her away.

'It will be dangerous and sometimes uncomfortable but ...'

'Of course, I'll bloody do it! What else have I got to do? I ain't got no other job,' Pearl ginned.

'Did I mention English lessons,' Ravi's eyebrow shot up.

'Just about a million times'.

'Deportment too'.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

'I don't know what that means but I am willing to do anything in the name of' Pearl winked, 'secret missions'.

Viresh who had been hovering close by joined them, 'well now Miss Pearl. Satis ed with the outcome?'

'More than satis ed'. This time Pearl got her hug. Viresh opened his arms and squeezed her.

'Hoy, Tiggy, Tom, got meself a job!' Pearl called. Other passengers were looking aghast but Tom, Pearl, Antigone, and Viresh were oblivious.

'I am going to miss you all so much,' Antigone said trying not to cry.

'Second that,' Tom shoved his hand in his pocket and bought out a packet of Liquorice allsorts

'Ohh, I'll have one of them,' Pearl took a handful. Popped one in her mouth and the others in her pocket for later.

Never one to rush goodbye's Ravi took two cream envelopes from his pocket. The writing curled and swelled from the page. He handed one each to Antigone and Tom. Tom felt his nose prickle but refused to chastise himself for feeling tearful. He had been through a lot and Ravi had been both fair and generous. Without him, without Vivienne and Portia, even without the Rudolph, Tom would still be alone in the world.

Without friends and without enemies; a treacherous place for a child. Ravi leaned close and murmured something marvellous to Tom. Antigone took a natural step back from the intimacy between the two friends. She was glad. So incredibly glad that Tom had this opportunity to be a child. To release his tight grip on the world and allow others to care for him.

The world momentarily took on a warm glow. Antigone allowed herself the secret pleasure of appreciating the angel-like quality of Ravi's face. There was no feature that she could judge as being more beautiful than the other. He was sublime, a real-life carving of what she imagined to be a perfect balance of mischief, purity, and exceptional cheek bones.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

It was over so quickly. Pearl had emptied her room at lightning speed and disappeared down the gangway into the heady streets of Bombay. Tom had been whisked away from his goodbyes by Vivienne and Portia who had a carriage waiting to take them to The Grand Continental Hotel.

Alone again, Antigone lifted her small bag. It was so light now that she had given her skirts away. She sat on the window seat and looked around at the empty room. She felt a soreness in her heart. Her face clouded, she would miss Pearl and Tom. They were such beautiful and interesting humans; the very best kind, she decided. Antigone felt the sharp corner of Ravi's letter in her pocket. She was going to wait for a good time to open it—

'Now is good as ever I suppose,' Antigone slid her nger under the fold and eased open the envelope.

The Kings Palace Hotel

Shivamerti Avenue

Bombay

Dear Miss Finch,

It would be my very great honour to continue our friendship. If ever you n d assistance, a friend please contact me at e address above. If here are any problems at e security of ce – use is w d; Vireshismostpeculiar Wi d pest anks and friendship

Ravinda Bloom

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

Antigone grinned and folded the letter. She should have known Ravi Bloom would not abandon her. They were friends after all. She picked up her bag again and properly looked at herself in the mirror. It was not the old Antigone staring back at her but someone new. Someone she wanted to get to know even better. The ship's horn blasted. It was time to go.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

## EPILOGUE

### Chaf ey Co ege

London

May 1895

My Darling Tiggs,

As you can imagine, life has b n ever so b ing since you left, and no ing is quite e same. H nwhistle has us under constant survei ance and has hired a night matron to k p guard. Jane has played a s ts of funny tricks on e po woman, including, making up wild st ies about The Chaf ey Ghost. Acc ding to Jane's newly found imagination, he lingers in ba room mirr s and lavat y water.

Matron is terri ed of relieving herself and waits until proper daylight to go. She is far too frightened to check on us at night, so we are at leisure to sneak out –

al ough we don't – not wi out you.

I say life is b ing, but it has b n a little ri ing f some of us. Jane has –

would you believe – lost her mind – she has even stopped studying and you won't be surprised as to why. Remember kind Mr. Wood idge, e photographer? He and Jane have b n m ting at least twice a w k. I tease her about being in love and she blushes which would imply guilt – don't you agr ? Imagine our uptight Jane in love! I even have heard her singing. She wakes me every night, giggling and mumbling ings about exposures and distance. At rst, I would listen carefu y to catch every w d but now I row my pi ow at her. Oh, Tiggs, what I would have given to make fun of her wi you. Our little room can get desperate wi out you and when I look at your bed, wi its sh ts and blankets folded at e end, I get utterly depressed. Big sigh, but back to Jane – I nag and nag her f details but she refuses to te . I am sure she wi give you a e juicy details in her own letter and en you must te me.

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

I have just returned from Mo er and Sybil. Sybil is now as huge as an elephant wi e baby – I do not envy giving bir to e creature – makes me shudder –

Sybil is terribly excited ough – says she can't wait to m t it. Mo er wants e baby to be ca ed, Edward Francesca but Sybil, is stuck on al emes –

Marigold if it is a girl and Yarrow if it is a boy – I always ought Yarrow was a w d, but hey-ho, each to eir own. I did have a point to is ramble. I was wi Mo er and Sybi e to interview f a Nanny. I was not much help because dear Nancy came to mind. I suddenly ought about her – a alone at St. B s wi your hideous family and w ried sick about you. The Good Samaritan at I am (don't laugh f I am improving my goodness) ote Nancy a note and invited her to come up to London. I ought it might be good f her to s e big city, maybe e art ga ery museum. We , I wi te you how at goes if we can arrange it.

You have not b n gone f long my sw t friend, but it f ls like an eternity. I am sure we wi a adjust eventua y. Thankfu y, it is impossible to f get you, particularly when you are becoming quite e cele ity. I have enclosed is newspaper clipping f you and am positive you wi be delighted.

Wi much love until next time

Your dear friend

Charlotte

P.S Send us some sun – we are frozen!

P.P.S It is not e only newspaper coverage – ere are plenty – you are famous!

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch

Antigone Finch
