table of shadows a 4

7/28/2019 Table of Shadows a 4

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THE TABLE OF SHADOWS


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2006 by Alan Parker. All rights reserved.


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For Caragh.


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Prologue

The City Of Coventry, December 1849

The grass whipped at the boy's bare feet as he ran across the field, his stark silhouette be-trayed by the moon. His breath raced and lungs burnt as he gulped at the air. His clothing

hung in rags along thin teenage limbs and his hair fell in wet clumps over panicked eyes thatfocused on the trees several hundred yards away.

Overhead something buzzed in the sky; a searchlight suspended among the stars, itsbeam flashing across the field dangerously close to him.

He stumbled, almost loosing his balance as he chanced a glance over his shoulder. Hecould hear the barking of dogs closing in. He grimaced as he pushed himself on across thefield, his legs tiring by the second.

Voices called to each other nearby and the boy dropped to the ground, hugging asmall bush for camouflage. For a moment his rapid breath and the buzzing of the drone

spotlight made the only sounds. He rubbed the sweat from his eyes and studied his shakinghands.The dogs began barking again, this time mixing with the voices of the men. They were

nearer than he had thought. He pressed into the bush, looking about for a route of escape.The drone overhead cast its blinding eye on him. A cloud of oil rich smoke streamed

from behind it, blotting out the surrounding stars.The boy twisted, taking to his feet and looking towards the shadowed outlines of the

men and their dogs as they approached, counting four of each. His breathing began to runaway from his control.

There! shouted one of the men as they moved towards him.

The boy glanced at the woods no more than fifty yards away at the edge of the field.His eyes flittered back to the drone buzzing out of reach overhead and then back to the menand dogs.

He let out a cry of desperation and thrust a hand towards the drone, which explodedin a shower of flames before spinning out of control and crashing into the ground.

You see that? cried one of the men, hesitating in his advance. That aint right. Thatjust aint right!

The dogs broke into a frenzy, jumping and straining at their leashes, pleading withtheir masters to be let loose and rip into the boy.

One of the other men moved closer, his arm locked at its length as he bid to keep hisanimal under control.You, boy, come back and no harm will come to you. If not, I have word to let the

dogs loose, if need be.The boy backed away several steps, his eyes wide and terrified.Come here, said a growling voice from the darkness. Syn wont let you go.

The boy stood, paralyzed, unsure of what to do next. His pulse pounded through hishead, but he knew he would not be going back. There was no going back; he would ratherface the dogs.

He stole a final breath and shook his head.

Hes going to run! cried one of the men.Get him!


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The boy turned and pushed on shaking legs towards the woods.One of the men laughed. He aint got no more in him.Panting with desperation, the boy struggled to move quickly enough and the men ran

behind him, closing in with each stride, the hounds snapping with fury.The boy stopped, seemingly realising the inescapability of his fate, and turned in a

tired arc to face his pursuers.No, he said, his voice rusty and broken. He looked up through determined eyes

framed beneath a shaggy fringe of hair.Youre going back, like it or not, shouted one of the men as they continued to run

towards him, closing the distance between each thudding heartbeat.NO! cried the boy, throwing his arms out at his sides.

The ground at his feet began to tear itself apart, throwing grass and dirt into the air asit ripped open in several long furrows that ran towards the men and their animals.

The barking of the dogs stopped abruptly alongside a sudden cry from the men asthey were thrown to the ground.

A dog whined and ran free of its master as it escaped his grasp, before disappearing

into the night, its chain trailing behind it.The men looked up from where they lie, strewn across the field, separated by vast

tears in the earth. The remaining dogs whined and cowered, looking at each other for reas-surance.

Where is he? said one man as he lifted himself on to his hands and knees. Wheresthe boy?

I dunno, said another. And I tell you, I aint goin after him. That boy has the devilin him, and I aint getting in its way.


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Chapter One

An Unexpected Arrival

The City Of London, February 1850

Gem drew the blanket around herself in an attempt to fight off the biting cold of the nightair. A clock deep within the building chimed two, the wavering notes echoing along the pas-sageways. Two, thought Gem. She would have to wake up in just over four hours, if shecould get to sleep.

Why couldnt she sleep?She wanted to turn her body over, but feared exposing a gap in her covering by doing

so and thereby letting out what little warmth she had managed to accumulate beneath it. Sherealised, however, that on a night like this, a bed in the dormitory of Dr Vandells Refuge forHomeless and Destitute Children was infinitely better than sleeping in a pile of rags in someforsaken cellar, or worse.

Gem knew how much fortune had graced her in recent years, but the thought helpedlittle with the cold that evening as she lay huddled under the blanket, bathed in moonlightthat fell through the windows above the beds.

The other girls were long asleep.The only sounds came from the faint drone of a distant airship high over the city and

the occasional mouse scurrying across the floorboards. Gem fostered an indifference to-wards the mice largely fuelled by an intense dislike of the refuges resident feline custodian,Earl Grey. She imagined the Earl slinking around somewhere, carefully evaluating everythingthrough cold, self-important eyes.

It was Gems third year at the refuge. At fourteen she would be considered oldenough to be able to support herself.

Fourteen. Barely six months away.Where was she going to go?She closed her eyes and tried to push the looming issue away, as she had recently done

so often. Right now, she was safe and dry, if not warm. Right now, she had a job at the Hill-fields textiles factory and had routinely given Dr Vandell half her earnings for over twoyears; a quarter for him to aid her keep, and a quarter he put aside for her so that the day sheleft the refuge she would at least have something with which to meet the world.

Why was she still not asleep? It was driving her to distraction. Turning restlessly on herbed, Gem realised her mistake as she exposed her feet to the cold night air and what little

warmth she had trapped beneath the blanket dissipated into the dormitory.


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She cursed under her breath, pulling the blanket back around her toes and wrapping ittightly again about her body. Too late, she thought.

A noise in the yard outside the window stole her attention. She lifted the blanket awayfrom the side of her head and cocked her ear towards an unmistakeable clattering of horseshooves upon the courtyards cobblestones, followed by muffled voices.

Curiosity seized her. Having already lost her battle to keep out the cold, Gem jumpedto her feet, pulled the blanket about her shoulders and climbed up towards the frosted win-dowpanes. She stepped onto the iron railing at the head of the bed, thereby enabling her topeer through the glass and down upon the courtyard. The cold ironwork felt uncomfortableagainst her bare feet, but her insatiable inquisitiveness, her undoing on many occasions, over-took her once again.

Broken grey clouds littered the night sky, unable to subdue the brilliance of the fullmoon. The sprawling London skyline framed the horizon with its revived gothic architecture.In the distance, mono-trams flittered high above the streets on their rails, weaving betweenthe goliath buildings known as cloud-breakers, which rose up, challenging towards themoon, their lights mixing with those of the stars.

In the courtyard below, a woman wearing a long dark dress, shawl and hat, perhapsmourning attire, stepped down from the carriage. Her gaunt features highlighted by cruelshadows were those of later years and her posture looked rigidly upright and proper.

Dr Vandell held the carriage door open for her, his white hair brilliant in themoonlight.

Close behind the woman, a boy began climbing cautiously down from the carriage.His unshod toes touched the stones as Dr Vandell put a hand gently behind him and usheredhim towards to the buildings front entrance. His clothes had deteriorated into little morethan hanging rags and a mop of dark hair tumbled into his eyes.

As the boy slipped down from the carriage seat, a cloth cap caught beneath himdropped unnoticed to the cobblestones underfoot.

Careful, doctor. Hes a biter, warned the woman. He doesnt like to be touched.This way, said the doctor.

The woman nodded as the boy glanced around, studying his surroundings with a lookof apprehension while shrinking away from the doctors arm.

Come, please, come, said Dr Vandell, holding an arm in indication towards the en-trance of the refuge.

Gem wiped at the glass pane with her fingers as it misted under her breath. As she didso, the boy glanced up, his attention seemingly drawn by her movements at the window.

Startled, Gem dropped back from the glass, holding her breath for several seconds be-fore raising her head sideways an inch at a time to peer back over the window ledge anddown upon the courtyard, afraid that she had revealed herself.

The boy had already looked away however, cowering as Dr Vandell herded him to-wards the entrance to the refuge using an open arm. Gem released her breath in a long exha-lation and lifted herself up more fully so that she could better view the courtyard.

It was then that the most curious event in Gems thirteen and a half years of existencehappened.

As the boy moved away from the carriage, he turned and looked over his shoulder at

the cobblestoned yard behind him. Noting his cap lying on the ground beside the wheel ofthe carriage, he started towards it, but found himself being ushered into the refuge sur-


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rounded by the encompassing arm of Dr Vandell, who remained engaged in conversationwith the woman, failing to notice the boys agitation.

The boy stretched an arm towards the cap, falling short in its reach by more than adozen feet. Suddenly, as if lifted by an invisible hand, the cap sprang from the ground andflew through the air to meet the boys open grasp, which immediately closed about it andpulled it tightly to his chest. The doctor and woman continued to talk, unaware of the ex-traordinary event beneath their noses.

Steps approached along the corridor leading to the dormitory and Gem droppeddown onto the bed. She quickly arranged the blanket along the length of her body beforepretending to be asleep, feeling betrayed by the thumping of her heart. A glow of a candleflickered across the doorway as the footsteps passed and Gem breathed a sigh of relief.

Standing once again, Gem peered out of the window, but saw only an empty court-yard below. She returned to her bed, and there she lay for another hour until she fell asleep,thinking of the strange event that she had witnessed from the window.

Dr Vandell showed his guests into his study and offered them seating. He paused to move

aside the fireguard and throw several scoops of coal upon the fire before taking to his ownchair behind his desk. An impressively large analytical engine sat on a table behind him. Itsgleaming brass components met with a clear look of approval from the woman as she stud-ied the room.

So, you are Tom? the doctor asked, his short white beard as precise as his manner ofspeaking. He smiled at the boy across the desk littered with numerous collections of paper-

work.He hasnt said a word, answered the woman in black on behalf of the boy. One of

my men noticed a mark on his wrist.A mark on his wrist? repeated the doctor with a look of curiosity growing in his eyes.A tattoo. It says the word Tom, so of course we assumed it to be the boys name.Why would anyone tattoo a child? asked Dr Vandell as he reached forward to the

lamp upon his desk and turned the adjuster knob so that the flame rose higher in its glasschimney.

The boy sat alongside the woman, enveloped in a large leather chair. He said nothing,but his keen eyes darted throughout the study.

Do you have a surname, Tom? asked Dr Vandell, pushing his fingertips together andleaning back in his seat.

For a moment, Toms eyes met with Dr Vandells, but he said nothing.

Rest assured, you are with friends now, and nobody is going to hurt you or make youdo anything you dont wish to.

Its yourself that maybe hurt, said the woman. Hes a biter. Leonard has the marks toprove it! Id suggest not touching him.

Oh, he has nothing to fear from me.Yes, well, Im not sure what more I can do here, said the woman. Im not at all sure

hes right in the head. Wrinkles lined her face, leading down to a thin and puckered mouthborn through many years of disapproving of countless things. She held her hands on her lapand studied the boy uncomfortably, narrowing her eyes to little more than thin slits.

So, you say he was found living in your cellar, Lady Cavlert?Yes, well, the servants tell me that is where they found him. It appears he may havebeen there for some time, perhaps as much as a week. Naturally, when we caught him, the


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first thing we did was contact the constable, and he, in turn, suggested you. Being a womanof Christian virtues, Im in no need of seeing him punished for my satisfaction, but would farprefer to see the boy set upon the correct path in life. I believe that is what you do here, Dr

Vandell?Quite, said Dr Vandell, his focus never leaving the boy. So, do you talk then, Tom?

The boys eyes continued to flicker about the room.Do you have any family, Tom?

The boy slowly looked up at Dr Vandell, his blue eyes peering out from beneath thebrim of his heavy cloth cap, which he had pulled onto his head the moment he had satdown. The eye contact with the doctor proved too much and his gaze fell.

Would you like to stay with us for the time being, Tom? We can offer you food, abed, and some warm clothes.

The boy looked at the woman seated beside him, drawing his feet back under his chairand burying himself deeper into its protection.

Then, it is settled, concluded Dr Vandell from a non-existent reply. Tomorrow wewill discuss your future, but for tonight, we will find you a bed. No, perhaps some food first.

Are you hungry? asked the doctor, interrupting himself and putting out an apologetic hand.I should think not! remarked the woman, pursing her lips. That boy has eaten the

best part of a cured ham this evening!Tom recoiled from her in his chair, a mounting fear rising within his eyes.Now, Lady Cavlert, said Dr Vandell, quickly assessing the boys face. You have done

an eminently Christian thing today in helping this young destitute boy, but there is little morethat I can ask of you this evening. So, perhaps I may escort you back to your carriage?

Lady Cavlert looked flummoxed, but quickly gathered herself. Well, of course. Thankyou.

Dr Vandell stood. He pushed his chair backwards and moved around the table, offer-ing his hand to the seated Lady Cavlert. Then it would be my honour, he said, taking hergloved hand and helping her from her seat.

Now, Tom, if you would stay seated here for a moment while I escort Lady Cavlert toher carriage. I will be back shortly, he said as he left the room to meet further incessant

whining from Lady Cavlert. after all, I survived Londons Second Great Fire! she squawked.Yes, of course, Lady Cavlert said Dr Vandell as their voices trailed off.

It was a good five minutes before Dr Vandell returned to the study, by which time the fire

was beginning to warm the room comfortably. He resumed his position in his chair on theopposite side of his desk and looked across at Tom, studying him for several seconds whilestroking his beard.

What of your family, Tom? Is there someone we can contact?The boy did not reply, his eyes lost in the fireplace. Hair protruded from beneath his

cap on both sides and overhung his collar at the back. Dirt blackened his hands and feetwhich curled with tension, and a greased smear of some kind ran in a smudge across his leftcheek. He looked thin, tired and very frightened.

How old are you, Tom asked Dr Vandell, leaning back in his chair, which creaked as

he moved. Fifteen? Sixteen?Tom shrugged in what the doctor took to be a response.Youre not sure?


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Tom said nothing. His eyes moved up from the fireplace and only fleetingly met thedoctors own.

Have you run away from somewhere? Is someone looking for you? Someone youdont want to see?

Toms eyes dropped away and traced the contours of the rug underfoot.I see, said the doctor, stroking his beard. It was not the first time he had met a diffi-

cult to reach child. Well, he began, putting his hands on the table with a gesture of his intentto stand, I think we need to get you a bed. Im sure youre tired. In the morning, we can seeto it that you get some fresh clothes and take a bath. Then, if you want, we can discuss thingssome more.

The doctor stood and walked around his desk towards Tom, who shrank away as heapproached.

Oh, its all right! I wont hurt you, Tom, he said with a step backwards. Come, letsfind a bed for you, he said with a further smile.

Tom slowly stood from his seat and took a final look around the room as they left.Dr Vandell walked Tom along the corridor that housed his office, following it past

several closed doors before turning a corner and directing Tom up a narrow staircase.The place used to be coachworks, said Dr Vandell in explanation of the unusual

structure. We converted it into what you see now when it closed it down.Tom did not appear to pay much attention to the doctors words as he followed him,

his eyes rapidly flowing over his surroundings.Well, let me introduce you to Mrs Johnson, said Dr Vandell, stopping at a closed

door just off the staircase and gently tapping upon it.Come in! called a voice from within.Dr Vandell opened the door and peered around the frame before opening it fully.

As the door swung inward, the scent of lavender washed through the air and a smalloil lamp sitting on a high chest of drawers near the doorway flickered as it cast forth a softglow.

Mrs Johnson, this is Tom, introduced the doctor as he carefully put an arm aroundToms back and guided him through the door, using the boys dislike of being approached tomanoeuvre him.

Ah, Tom, its a pleasure to meet you, said a rotund and happy looking lady perchedon a chair beside her dressing table in the comfortable looking, but cramped bedroom. Herhair had been pinned up beneath a white nightcap laced with frills around the edges and she

wore a heavy looking pink robe that did nothing to hide her stout frame.

Did you ready a bed, Mrs Johnson? asked the doctor.Yes, indeed, she said, smiling towards Tom. Lets get you up there, Tom.Mrs Johnson put her hands to her nightcap to straighten it, with little effect. She then

collected the lamp from the chest of drawers and followed Dr Vandell and Tom from theroom.

The lamp that Mrs Johnson carried cast long shadows along the walls like a puppetshow as they walked through the passages, with Tom an uncomfortable looking volume be-tween two enormous bookends.

Here, whispered Mrs Johnson, leading him into a room as they drew up to a door-

way. The lamp attempted to illuminate the length of the boys dormitory where plain brickwalls ran back on either side, intermittently broken by small frosted windows above more


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than a dozen beds in mirroring rows. The lamp was unable to tame the darkness completelyand shadows stretched about them as Mrs Johnson led Tom along three positions until shereached an empty bed on the left.

Twenty-six, he said, looking up at her.Sorry? she whispered, putting a finger up to her mouth to indicate he should not

wake the other boys.Twenty-six, he repeated loudly, putting a hand on the bed frame.Yes, well, I will come and fetch you in the morning, dont you worry, she said, look-

ing confused and patting him on the shoulder. For now, just take off your clothes and slipinto bed.

Tom looked at her and shook his head, gripping the collar of his ragged shirt andtightening his fists about it.

Oh, I see. Well, no matter. If youd rather keep them on, then just get into bed likethat.

Tom sat on the bed, looking up at the woman as she drew back the covers and waitedpatiently for him to lie down.

Come now, lie down, she said, removing his cap from his head and handing it tohim.

Scraggly dark hair fell about his forehead and Tom peered out from beneath a heavyfringe. Slowly, he slipped his feet beneath the sheets and woollen blanket before leaningbackwards against the pillow.

Thats right, assured Mrs Johnson, putting out a hand and brushing some of the hairaway from Toms eyes. Now you get some sleep, and stay here until I come and get you inthe morning.

Dr Vandell stood in the doorway, watching as Mrs Johnson pulled the blanket up toToms chin.

Oh, said Mrs Johnson, nearly forgetting to whisper, if you need to go during thenight, theres a po under the bed, all right?

Tom failed to reply, simply pulling the blanket over his jaw line.Good night, Tom, said Mrs Johnson with a broad smile before she left and followed

Dr Vandell from the dormitory. The light of her lamp diminished with each footstep as theyretreated until it gave way to a mixture of moonlight and thick puddles of shadow, leaving

Tom lying alone in the darkness with the sheets pulled tightly over his nose.Long seconds became tortuous minutes as Tom lay peering out from the bed. Each

movement of the boys turning in their beds caused Toms eyes to widen anew and his heart

to flutter.As he lay watching the shadows that seemed to swim and shift around him, something

in the darkness scuttered across the floorboards nearby.Tom sat upright with a sharp intake of breath. His fearful eyes scrutinized the room,

finding the rows of beds, sleeping boys, and a multitude of shadows in which anything couldlurk.

Something scratched at the leg of his bed; a high-pitched scraping of metal upon metalbeneath him. Tom rolled onto his front and crawled inch by inch to the edge of the bed untilhe was able to peer under its base.

The shadows beneath the bed shifted and a glint of moonlight on a bulbous body of abeetle drew Toms startled eyes.


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The insects front claws pulled at the far bed leg as it tried to climb up to the mattress.It hesitated and backed away across the floorboards with a hiss as it saw Tom, fanning andrattling its wings in defence. As it retreated into a beam of moonlight, the insect showed it-self in its hideous glory. Tiny metal parts intricately connected to form its complex mechnicalbody. Minute cogs turned under its golden wings while its hooked legs pulled it across thefloorboards. Two sharp blades came together in cruel pincers, opening and closing in display.

Tom reached out with a shaking hand towards the beetle.The insect clicked and hissed again, rearing back on its hind legs in a defensive pos-

ture, fluttering it wings and opening its mandibles.The wings fluttered and buzzed in a blur, and the beetle took to the air, looping in cir-

cles higher into the room before it made towards the doorway and disappeared from sight.Laying back on the bed, Tom pulled the bedclothes up to his face, staring at the ceil-

ing, his eyes wide and alert. He remained frozen in that position until the morning.


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Chapter Two

Inquisitive Minds

The night-watchman surveyed the street, stealing a fleeting glance at his pocketwatch.His unusual chair afforded some protection against the drizzeling rain with its shell-

shaped back which formed a hood over the seat. Thin wisps of smoke issued from its base,within which coal kept its occupier warm as it had done for the many generations beforehim.

High in the distance, a late mono-tram followed its track, disappearing behind a line ofnearby rooftops, rattling and scraping its way through the night.

A tall man, of a broad-shouldered triangular frame and a healthy middle-age, ap-proached along the pavement, his steps heavy and slow. The guard, a good head shorter andmore than twenty years older, rose to meet him. Within one blow of his whistle, ten armedmen would be at his side.

Good evening, captain, said the watchman, dropping a chain from his jacket pocketand fumbling through the keys attached to it. Weve been expecting you.

Good evening, Hodder, said the man, waiting at the step before the great blackenamelled door as the old man fumbled with the lock. Its a cold night. I dont envy yourduty.

Oh, I dont mind, sir. The chair keeps the worst away, said the watchman openingthe door to the building he had protected each evening for the past seventeen years.

Thank you, said the man as he stepped inside. He looked at the brass numbers fixedin the middle of the door as he passed. 10Downing Street.

The Prime Minister is waiting for you in his study, Captain Bolt, said a voice as the

door closed behind him. A pair of oil lamps sat on tables lining the hallway, throwing fragilelight about them and a warm air replaced the chill of the night.

Bolt turned to see the Prime Ministers private servant approach.This way, said the man, escorting Bolt through another doorway.Bolt knew the way, but protocol dictated he allow himself to be shown. He pulled at

the collar of his suit. His official uniform was more rigid and higher necked, and almost any-thing else felt wrong when he wore it, but he was not to draw attention to himself wherepossible.

The servant wove through several rooms until he came to a dark oak door and tappedbefore opening it.

Captain Bolt, Prime Minister, said the servant.Yes, yes. Show him in, said a voice.


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Bolt pushed past the servant and into the office. Behind a desk that had had numer-ous occupiers throughout the years, sat Lord Russell, the Prime Minister, dressed in a blacksuit, his advancing years demonstrated by a plump face, balding white hair and thick side-

whiskers that grew as if their owner could do nothing about their intrusion. His eyes shoneover red cheeks with an ease of being often mistaken for vagueness.

That will be all for now, Jenkins, said the Lord Russell, waving away the ghoulishservant who hovered in the doorway.

Very well, sir, said the man, removing himself and closing the door as he withdrew.Bolt strode forward to meet Lord Russells hand as he stood from behind his desk. A

blistering heat roared at his side from a well-stocked fireplace.Sit down, sit down, said Lord Russell, offering a chair.

They reclined on opposite sides of the desk and the initial look of greeting in theireyes hardened to purpose.

What happened? asked the Prime Minister.Its not good. Intelligence reported stirrings in the activities of the Table of Shadows.

Most specifically Gabriel Syns movements. We tracked him to a meeting with Pavel Nakhi-

mov, a commander within the Russian forces, but we were unable to ascertain exactly whattranspired. Any attempts to get near to the Table of Shadows have been disastrous.

That cant be good.It gets worse. We suspected that Syn promised Nakhimov the kind of information we

would rather they did not possess. We then decided upon a change of strategy, and ratherthan directly attempting to infiltrate Syns circle, we used an agent working within the Rus-sian administration to gain more information. He gave us concrete proof that Syn has of-fered designs of the next generation of war-machines to the Russians. Something Syn callsthe Aegis. These designs are in advance of anything we have ourselves.

Aegis?It means Shield of Zeus. A bipedal multi-terrain armoured vehicle Syn has been

working on. Think of an armoured tank on legs, twenty-feet tall, carrying rotating-barrel gunsand cannon. One man in an Aegis can take on an entire infantry unit single-handedly, with-out so much as raising a bead of sweat.

Dear God. The man is totally out of control.Quite. Moreover, weve been funding him... Theres more.More?We believe that the Table of Shadows is looking for something.What?

We dont know exactly, but some of the Table have been dispersed throughout thecountry, and Ive seen enough search patterns to know one when I see it. We intercepted afragment of a communication; something regarding the term Gaia, Im having Wyncotelook into it. Whatever it is, the Table are growing stronger. We may have underestimated byhow much.

The Prime Minister rubbed his forehead and pinched his nose as if he were suffering aheadache. Find Gabriel Syn. Find who or what it is he is looking for and stop him. Whateverit takes.

Bolt stood, pulled his waistcoat into position and nodded. Yes, sir.

I had better inform Her Majesty.Now, thats a job I do not envy, said Bolt with a smile.


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So, you got up, then? said Ellie glancing up from the porridge she had almost fin-ished.

No, Im still in bed, and planning on staying there for the rest of my life, said Gemglumly. Have you seen a new boy?

No. No new boys here today. Not that Ive seen, anyway, said Ellie, rolling her spoonaround her bowl, scraping the remaining contents up in a most undignified fashion, turningGems stomach as she watched.

Must you do that?Must you watch? said Ellie with a shrug of her shoulders and twist of her lips, turning

her head back to the remains of her bowl and missing Gems scrunched face and pokingtongue return her thoughts.

I saw a new boy arrive last night. Out the window, said Gem, matter-of-factly.Oh? I spose you love him already? Love at first sight! teased Ellie, rolling her head

upon her shoulders and her eyes in her sockets, mimicking a delirious desire.No! I just saw a new boy is all, said Gem, focusing her attention on pushing the grey

looking porridge around her bowl without managing to eat any.

There was a distinct pause for a moment before Ellie broke the silence, So, what washe like, this boy?

Tired, frightened, alone, said Gem, finally mustering up enough courage to eat aspoonful of porridge.

Ellie nodded. The description would fit nearly all of the children that had come to therefuge. It was common that children were brought to Dr Vandell, and almost as commonthat they would run away at the first opportunity. Those that stayed realised what fortunethey had stumbled across, but few ever waited long enough to find out, bolting the secondthey found an unlocked door.

I just wondered about him, was all, added Gem. No matter, she said, pushing asidethe bowl. I cant eat that today.

Come on, lets get to the factory, said Ellie, picking up Gems bowl for her andclimbing off the bench.

Gem looked up. With a further sigh, she nodded and followed Ellie as she returnedthe bowls and spoons to the far end of the bench where the cook was still sitting and lookinginto her tea.

The girls wove through the refuges corridors before making their way outside into thecrisp air.

Morning girls, remarked Dr Vandell as he stood just outside the doorway, puffing on

an enormous cigar, apparently taking pleasure in a mixture of smoke and morning air.Dr Vandell, replied the girls in simultaneous greeting.

The doctor billowed a cloud of white smoke and warm breath in front of himself be-fore nodding and raising his cigar. Ellie, Gem.

The girls smiled and walked on across the cobble-stoned forecourt, hugging eachothers arms to keep warm. Ellie looked up into the sky, drawing Gems attention after herown. Two giant airships crossed each others paths far overhead, their buzzing oil-enginesleaving dark trails of slowly dissipating black smoke behind the great behemoths. After adozen strides Gem stopped. Just a moment, she said and sprang off in the direction of Dr

Vandell.


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Gem ran back to the doctor and looked up at him. He wore a long brown jacket but-toned at the front, looking as impressive and an imposing figure as ever as he towered aboveher.

Err, Dr Vandell.Yes, Gem? he replied, cocking an inquisitive look down at her.I, err.Dont mumble, Gem. It wont do you well in later life.No, sir, she said, rocking uneasily in her stance. I, err. Sorry. I wondered if a new boy

had arrived yesterday. Last night in fact. I thought I heard someone arrive during the night.Did you indeed? replied the doctor, pausing to puff twice on his cigar. And, how, in

fact, did you hear it was a boy?Err, I Well I did look out of the window for a moment, perhaps.Hmmm perhaps? Well, Gem, yes, a young boy did join us last night and today he

will determine if he wishes us to help him, or not, as the case may be.Oh.Dr Vandell puffed again on his cigar, appearing to contemplate a thought for a few

seconds. Of course, if he does choose to stay, he will need someone to help him find hisway. Perhaps that person could be you, Gem?

Of course, Dr Vandell, said Gem with a growing smile, raising herself excitedly up onher toes.

Well, off to work then, and we can discuss it more this evening.Yes, sir, she said, whirling around to run back towards to Ellie who stood shivering

with a look of exasperation on her face.

Tom stayed under his blanket, humming in an attempting to block out the noise and confu-sion. Boys of various ages boisterously chased around the dormitory fighting, paying Tomlittle notice where he lay huddled under the cover.

A heavy weight settled on the bed beside him and he found the covering pulled awayfrom his head. He attempted to snatch it back, but not before Mrs Johnsons face loomedover the top of it. She wore a dark blue dress overlaid by a white apron at the waist, and amatching white mobcap finished with a small red bow.

Good morning, Tom, she said. Did you sleep well?Tom continued humming, staring back at her.Well, first nights in strange places can be like that, cant they? she said, pulling the

cover from him.

Tom released his grip upon the blanket and lifted himself up.Come on, come on, repeated Mrs Johnson, rotating a hand in a hurrying gesture.

The other boys are going to breakfast, but we have a bath ready for you.Mrs Johnson took to her feet and rolled the blanket up in her arms before putting it

down upon the bed sheets. Come along! she said, offering a hand for Tom to take. A scentof lavender drifted from her that he found comforting, but he did not accept her hand. Heshook his head and pulled his feet from underneath the blanket.

Gradually, he stood up, stopping his humming and looked around at the remainingboys who were still dressing themselves with noticeably less volume than had been experi-

enced before an adult had entered the room.This way! said Mrs Johnson, nearly whipping him off his feet as she turned and ledTom by the arm in the direction of the doorway.


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An image snapped into Toms mind. He saw Mrs Johnson sitting on her bed late atnight. She held a picture of a proud looking man. She felt sad and lonely. For a moment, thatdefining emotion became his own. He wrestled free of her grasp and pulled away.

Mrs Johnson looked at the boy and tutted, before raising her eyebrows and leading theway.

They passed through, baring left and following the hallway to the end of the passage,finding a half open door through which steam rolled.

Here, she said, showing Tom through and into the room. We do expect levels ofcleanliness here, Tom. You wash each morning and evening with the water placed besideyour bed and you will have a bath twice a week, like it or not.

The air was warm and the room large and open. The floor consisted of bare boardsrunning to a wall at the far end with a large window heavily misted with condensation. In thecentre of the room sat two high-backed copper bathtubs, one of which had been filled with

warm water and from which the steam rose. A chair sat beside each tub, and on one restedsome towels, a hand scrubber and a worn bar of soap. Two baths, two chairs. It was sym-metrical and Tom liked that.

Twenty-nine, he said. One, eight.Im sorry? asked Mrs Johnson, looking with bewilderment at Tom, but he did noth-

ing to elaborate on his statement. She paused for a second before nodding at him.Go on then, cast your skin, and Ill leave you to it. Try not to get any water on the

floor, she said, leaving the room and pulling the door closed on her way.Tom stood alone, looking around himself. After a time, he put a hand into the bath-

tub. The water felt inviting, so he undressed and laid his tattered clothes on the back of thechair. Picking up the bar of soap, he stepped up to the bath and carefully put a foot in the

water to test the sensation. He climbed in and sat down, allowing his body to relax againstthe warmth of the water.

He lay in the bath and closed his eyes, resting back against the upright of the bath,succumbing to the accumulated tiredness that clung to him. The soap slipped from his fin-gers and disappeared down into the tub as he drifted away from the world for a time.

How long he remained like that, he did not know, but found himself brought back tothe world with a sudden fluttering heart as the door burst open, causing him to sit bolt up-right and splash a substantial amount of water over the edge of the bathtub.

Oh, now! said Mrs Johnson, marching over to the bath and reaching towards thechair beside him. Be careful! she said, tutting at the water rolling across the floor. Shepicked up all of Toms threadbare items of clothing and whisked them away without a word

of explanation, leaving through the door again. Make sure you use that scrubber! she barkedbehind her, before closing the door on her way out.

Tom located the soap and employed the scrubber to good effect. Eventually, he wasleft in a bath full of very murky looking water, but feeling better for the experience. Heclimbed out of the tub, and taking the large towel, he dried himself, wrapping the towelabout his shoulders.

Before long, Mrs Johnson reappeared and seemed happy enough with the job Tomhad made of his bathing.

Ive put some clothes on your bed, which you should find will fit you. Boots are a bit

more difficult, so I put a couple of pairs out for you to try. They arent new, but theyll doyou better than nothing, she said, leading him from the bathroom back to his bed in thedormitory.


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Mrs Johnson left Tom to dress himself. He did not want to wear the new clothes, theywere not his, but there was no choice, as he wanted to remain in a bath towel even less. Hetried on the boots he liked most first, and found they fitted well.

Mrs Johnson returned to find Tom wriggling in his new clothes, looking uncomfort-able.

Here is the one thing I could save from your clothes, she said, handing him his cap.Tom grabbed at it; it felt warm, as if it had been near a fireplace. He pulled it on his damphair and looked up at Mrs Johnson, who stood with her hands on her hips studying him.

Now, young, Tom, look at you. You can speak to me, Tom. I know you can speak.He said nothing.Very well, let us find Dr Vandell. He wants to see you. Come on, she said, issuing an

open hand for him to take, but Tom shrank back from her gesture.Mrs Johnson sighed and led Tom through the large building, down the two flights of

stairs and traced the corridor back to the office, where he had first been brought to the pre-vious evening.

Wait here for a moment, dear, said Mrs Johnson. Ill be but a moment with the doc-

tor first, she said, knocking on the door before entering to an acknowledgement from be-yond.

Tom stood where he had been told, looking up and down the hallway through nerv-ous, shifting eyes. He could hear a muffled conversation unfolding on the other side of thedoor, but paid it little attention.

After several minutes, Mrs Johnson reappeared and indicated that Tom should enterthe study. She left him seated opposite Dr Vandell before closing the door and retiring else-

where.Well, Tom, said Dr Vandell, leaning forward on his desk. You look a lot better than

you did last evening, he said with a gesture at the boys new attire. New clothes.Boots, said Tom, lifting his feet up, his eyes flitting over the many books and objects

that lined the studys shelves. Boots, he repeated.You are most welcome, Tom, said Dr Vandell. What else did Mrs Johnson give

you?Tom drew his eyes to Dr Vandell. Mine, he said, pointing to his cap.Yes, it is all yours now, Tom. Nobody will take them away from you. Mrs Johnson

had to throw away your old clothes. They had served their purpose. Some things have to bethrown away because they are too old.

The boys eyes broke away again, falling on a polished marble ink blotter resting on

the near edge of the desk. The doctor followed his gaze, Do you know what that is for? heasked.

Tom said nothing, his eyes moved on.Its an ink blotter. A rather old one, which I was given as a present. Your new clothes

are a present, from me.A rocking motion took Tom.Dr Vandell reclined in his large leather chair. You are a most curious one, he said. He

reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a silver cigar case, from within which he re-moved a pre-cut cigar and a match.

Forty-seven, said Tom, his eyes still tracing about the room.Forty-seven? Whats Forty-seven, Tom?There was no answer.


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Me? The cigar? The case? Something in this room? Are there forty-seven books,Tom? On the shelves?

Tom shrugged.Im fifty-three years of age. Quite old? he said with a laugh. But, Im not forty-

seven.The boy nodded several times, causing the doctor to laugh louder. Well, now, what

would it be? he asked, tucking away his case and lighting his cigar. He blew upon the matchwith a meditative thoughtfulness, dropping it carefully into the ashtray on his desk. He stood,walked to the bookshelf, and began running his finger over the spines of the books, rapidlycounting them aloud to himself. He reached thirty and decided there must be more thansixty books before him. He shook his head, attempting to cast away the confusion and re-took his seat where he meditated for a moment.

How many books are on the shelf, Tom?Tom stopped his rocking action and shuffled from the chair. He walked to the shelf

and starting with the lowest book in the nearest corner, he began mimicking the doctorsprevious action and counting each individual book.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six,No, Tom. Its all right. I dont need to know how many books there are anymore.Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten,No, Tom. Im sorry. I dont need to know. Its all right.Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen.Dr Vandell rested his cigar on the lip of the ashtray and drew his hand across his fore-

head. He climbed from his chair and moved beside the boy, looking down at him.I know you dont like people to touch you, Tom. So, would you please stop counting

the books?Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-one.Tom!Twenty-two. Twenty-three. Twenty-four.Dr Vandell clapped his hands together and the air snapped.

Tom stopped his counting and looked up through alarmed eyes.Its all right, Tom. Im not going to hurt you. Please sit down again, he asked. He

stepped backwards carefully, retaking his seat behind his desk. Look, see? Please, sit, hesaid, opening his hands towards the chair Tom had recently vacated.

Toms face welled with tears. He stood and rocked in tiny back and forth motions,humming a quiet and tuneless note to himself, pausing only for further breath.

Tom began Dr Vandell, picking his cigar back up, drawing upon it and then pok-ing the air. I have something you may like! The doctor reached into one of his lower draw-ers and pulled out a wooden box. Look, he said, putting the box on his desk, unhooking atiny brass latch and opening the lid. Have you played with these before? he asked, tippingthe box up to show a collection of various coloured glass marbles.

Tom paid no attention. He was staring intently at the bookshelf, continuing with hisactions of rocking and humming.

Dr Vandell took to his feet, and placing his cigar between his teeth, he lifted the boxfrom the table and carried it to Tom, showing him the contents.

Tom looked at the box and his humming dissipated. He reached out and picked up amarble, turning it in his fingers.


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Very well, perhaps that is enough for the time being, said the doctor, handing thebox to the boy. Lets see if Mrs Johnson can take you somewhere you find more relaxing.


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Chapter Three

Responsibilities

Gem walked along Plymouth Road with slumped shoulders and small steps. The flagstonesunderfoot were uneven and slippery with ice, particularly perilous in the diminishing evening

light. Come on! she whined at Ellie, who was several paces behind her.I aint in no hurry, and you seem to be forgetting that Ive been injured, said Ellie,

dragging her feet more than Gem found necessary, while cradling one hand in the other.Your mistake, and it aint that bad. You know better than to go messing with the

bobbins when the looms are going.I do now, was the simple reply as Ellie drew up to Gems shoulder and they contin-

ued the path together.I gotta go see Dr V when we get back, said Gem mysteriously, deliberately so.Why, has he asked you to look after the new boy?

How did you know that? asked Gem, with a disappointed look.It dont take a detective to work it out, Gem. You were all curious about some new

boy, and then you have a quick chat with Dr V on the way out this morning, now you cantwait to get back.

Oh.What is it about him that interests you so much? Oh, I dunno. The beard, I

think, said Gem, grinning.Not Dr V! The boy!Gem giggled. I told you; he just looked like he needed a friend, is all.

And this you could tell from a glance through a window?Yes, I could, but Dr V did ask me to show him about and look after him. I expecthell want to speak to me the moment we get back, said Gem with a cocky waver of herhead.

As the pair closed in on the refuge, the sky darkening with each passing minute, Gemnoticed a tall, thin man dressed in ragged clothes standing in the street opposite. He seemedto her to be some kind of homeless vagrant, who was watching the refuge from the thicken-ing shadows of the street. For a moment, their eyes met as he looked directly at her and Gemshrank under his penetrating stare. She looked sideways to Ellie for reassurance, who shefound too consumed by her hand to have noticed.

When Gem looked back at where the vagrant had been, she found only shadows, anda chill ran down her spine.


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It was at the end of dinner, and an unexceptional meal of stew and dumplings, when DrVandell requested Gems attendance in his office. She stood before the door, her hand hesi-tating in its knocking action for a moment and her heart thumping in her chest as she staredat the dark wooden face of the door and hand painted letters that read Dr J. Vandell.Every time Gem had to speak with Dr Vandell and gave herself enough time to think aboutit, she always managed to work herself into a flustered state, never knowing exactly why.

She knocked on the office door and waited.Come in, replied the doctors voice from within.Gem twisted the heavy handle and opened the door, stepping into the room before

turning and closing it behind her. The warmth of the fireplace was almost overwhelming.

Gems memory drifted back to almost three years before; to a day when she had sat alone ona chair in the single dingy room she had shared with her father, her arms lying across the un-even table surface before her. She stared out of the window at the street below and had toblink several times before she could decide that it was her eyes, not the glass, that were misty.

A tap came at the door.May I come in? asked a deep yet temperate voice from the hallway.Gem wiped her face and put her hands neatly in her lap, but said nothing.

The door began to creak open on weary hinges, followed by another knock as thevoice called out again. Hello?

Gem watched as the door opened wider and a tall man with well-groomed grey hairand beard appeared around its edge.

Miss Lightfoot? Gemma? said the man.She neither nodded nor answered his question.If I may introduce myself, I am Dr Vandell. Im here because, perhaps, I might be

able to help you.Gem had heard the name before. He was a wealthy gentleman who often visited the

more insalubrious areas of the city, offering free medical services to those that would queueto see him, but to most, Gem included, he was yet another middle-class do-gooder that

would inevitably fail to carry through with their self-designated pathway to Gods favour.The doctor stepped into the room. He held his hat between his hands and met Gem

with pale grey eyes, which looked more tired than she thought he had any right to be. Heseemed uncomfortable and ill at ease as he turned and closed the door behind him.

Im here to help, if you will allow me, he said.

Gem looked at him silently.You are Gemma Lightfoot, arent you? The lady downstairs said I would find you

here. The doctor took a step forwards and then stopped.All she found within herself was a single nod.May I sit? asked Dr Vandell, reaching out and gesturing towards the chair opposite

Gems own at the table.Gem shrugged her shoulders with indifference, to which Dr Vandell pulled the chair

out and seated himself, laying his hat on the tabletop.I heard that your father died two days ago. I thought I might be able to offer some

assistance. He met an empty silence and a cold stare. And that your mother died some timeago.Consumption, came a croaky reply.


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Im sorry?She died of consumption, when I was four.Im sorry to hear that. It must have been very difficult for both you and your father.What would you know? said Gem. She knew the words were harsh and her father

would have chastised her had he heard, but she wanted to hurt someone, if only so they felt afraction of the pain burning inside her that refused to lessen.

I lost my wife several years ago. It was a long and terrible illness. She, the doctorpaused, his eyes drifting down to the table and his hands. She was very special to me.

Gem bit her bottom lip which was trembling and about to betray her. The edges ofher mouth turned down and a lump began to swell in her throat.

I never got to say goodbye to him, she said.Your father?He just laid down on the bed and never woke up, she said, her voice cracking with

strain. She sniffed and rubbed at her nose with the back of her hand.Its never easy to lose someone you love, but to be alone in the world, at your age,

with nobody to turn to well

Gem had managed to fight back the tears, but the dam burst as he spoke. It was theword alonethat proved too much. She dropped her head into her arms and fell upon thetable sobbing and shaking with grief.

I aint got no money to live here beyond the end of the week. I cant even pay to havehim buried proper! she cried, her face concealed deep within her arms. Why did he have todie?

Dr Vandell reached forward and put a hand on her arm, I dont know why, but I doknow the pain will become less with time. The good memories will become stronger, andeventually you will smile when you think of him, and feel lucky for knowing him at all.

Never, cried Gem. Itll never get better. This pain will never go away, and he willnever come back.

Ill help, said Dr Vandell, taking to his feet and moving to Gems side, stooping toput an arm across her shoulders and comfort her. You neednt be alone. I will help pay foryour father to be buried properly, if you would like.

Gem looked up, her eyes and cheeks puffy and red. Why would you? she asked, sti-fling her sobbing until it became a series of quick successive intakes of sharp breath.

Because I know. I know what it is like to lose somebody. My wife and I always hopedfor children, yet it was not to be, and when she passed on, I decided to do something worthyof her memory. She had always loved children so much, and it was painful for me never to

see her blessed with our own. So, I have decided to open a refuge for destitute children.Somewhere that children who would be too old to be taken in by orphanages, but too youngto properly look after themselves. You would be the first person to live under its roof, butthere will be more. Friends for you. I can promise safety, food and warmth until you arefourteen. Youd have to find employment of some kind, something safe, and put some ofyour money away each week so that you have something with which to meet the world whenyou are ready.

Gem sniffed again and dried her cheeks with her fingers. She looked up at the doctorand met his deep grey eyes.

What do you say, Gemma? asked Dr Vandell, patting her on the shoulder and smil-ing.Gem, she said, sniffing. Everyone calls me Gem.


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* * *Ah, Gem, said the doctor, turning his seat away from the analytical engine positioned be-hind his desk as he withdrew his fingers from its long instruction keys. He flipped a switchand the machines humming fell away to silence and its pinhead display reset itself.

The model four analytical engine was a modern marvel, according to Dr Vandell, andhe treated it reverentially. All of his visitors were offered a demonstration if they should askabout it, which was likely given the cost and rarity of even a model two. Gem found it inter-esting, but never really understood how anyone could be so excited about such a thing; it wasonly a machine after all. A great, humming, often clunking, machine that took up the betterpart of the doctors far desk. She liked it best whenever she saw the machines delicate matrixof thousands of output pins began to arrange themselves into patterns and pictures. Some-times the children were even allowed to play noughts and crosses on it, but always supervisedby Dr Vandell himself, for which Gem did not blame him. Unchaperoned children in the vi-cinity of the machine would have spelt disaster for its intricate cogs and inner-workings. Dr

Vandell said you could even communicate using the model four with people that had theirown analytical engines elsewhere.

Gem entered further into the room where the distinct smell of cigars hung in the airand she found herself wanting to cough in order to clear her throat.

Take a seat, Gem.Thank you, sir, said Gem as she lifted herself onto the first of the two chairs seated

across from Dr Vandell.So, you are aware of the new boy. Well, his name is Tom.Gem nodded.Dr Vandell pushed his fingertips together and rested his elbows upon his desk, look-

ing over his hands at her.I think he needs some help, he said after a moment of reflective thought. He may re-

late better to someone nearer his own age than to adults, and I know you understand whatits like to be alone, so I thought you would be the best person to help.

We think hes about nine years old, which would seem about right, although he ismentally underdeveloped for his age. Anything else you can find out about where he comesfrom, or any details of any family would help immensely.

Anything I can do, sir, said Gem.Dr Vandell appeared not to even notice her, flexing his fingers against each other and

almost staring through Gem. I want you to introduce yourself to him, but there are going tobe some rules.

Yes, sir.Firstly, and perhaps most importantly for yourself; you must not try to touch him.

Tom seems to dislike physical contact, to the extent that it causes him distress. Secondly, heseems distant, as if your words cannot reach him; so do not get angry with him. No shouting,stamping or clapping around him. Nothing boisterous. Dr Vandell stopped, lowering hishands and ensuring he had strong eye contact with Gem, Nothing boisterous, he repeated incareful syllables.

Gem nodded.If at any point his behaviour seems threatening to you or endangering himself or

someone else, you are to immediately seek a member of my staff, or myself. Is that clear?Gem was beginning to become worried. Nobody had ever asked for such responsibil-ity from her. Perhaps she did not want to know about this strange boy so much.


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Why! I I almost fell then! Thank you sir, said the man, hesitating on what to donext. He decided to lift his hat in acknowledgment of the vagrant and then took off on his

way, quickly and less sure-footedly.The vagrant faded away from the world again, scurrying along the street in the oppo-

site direction of the man, pleased at the success of his endeavour. His thrust his hand deepinto his overcoat pocket, where his thumb traced the contours of the gold pocket watch hehad stolen from his prey.

Gem heard Mrs Johnson before she saw her, her voice boomed through a doorway andalong the corridor.

thankfully, we dont starch, there just arent enough hours in the day, or hands todo the work, for that kind of treatment.

Rounding the corner of the door, Gem found Mrs Johnson running a box-iron acrosssome sheets she had draped over a long ironing board, gaily talking away to a seeminglyempty laundry room.

And to be totally honest, if things are running behind, then we dont always iron the

sheetsMrs Johnson? said Gem, by way of introducing herself.Looking up from her iron with a startled expression, Mrs Johnson seemed surprised

to be interrupted from her monologue on daily activities.Ah, Gem! she said with a flustered smile as she rested the iron on the stand beside

her. We were expecting you.Gem crinkled her forehead in confusion, as she could not see anyone else in the room,

simply four large tubs, one of which was full with soapy water, accompanying washing peg-gys and several piles of folded, but crumpled, linen in baskets.

This is Tom, said Mrs Johnson, holding a hand out in indication of someone behindthe door.

Gem leant around the door and found the boy sitting on a round stool looking up ather through wide blue eyes beneath a rough fringe of dark hair and a sagging cloth cap. Mostof his clothes did not fit, and his whole demeanour seemed to say the clothes did not belongto him, anymore than he did to them. Between his hands, he held a small wooden box fas-tened with a brass catch.

Hello, Tom, said Gem. Its nice to meet you. My name is Gem, she said, thrusting ahand out in offer. After a few seconds, she retracted the handshake and glanced sideways atMrs Johnson. Im sorry, I forgot. I know you dont like to be touched.

Tom, now you go along with Gem and play. Perhaps you can show her your mar-bles? suggested Mrs Johnson helpfully.

Marbles? said Gem, I love marbles!Tom shook his head and held the box tightly against his body.Well, we dont have to. Perhaps we can just have a look around.Come along now, said Mrs Johnson, cocking her head at Gem and the door.

Tom stood, still clutching the box in his hands. He looked at Gem fleetingly throughbrilliant blue eyes.

Ive got a toy, attempted Gem as a point of conversation. Shes a doll, and her name

is Lady Fairchild. Would you like to see her?Tom returned an empty gaze.


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Maybe not, sighed Gem, leaving the laundry room. I wouldnt expect a boy to be in-terested in the finer things in she stopped herself; realising Tom was not following her.Gem looped back into the laundry room, witnessing Mrs Johnson with her hands on herhips, looking down at Tom, who had retaken his position on the stool.

Now, Tom! chastised Mrs Johnson followed with a firm look and pursed lips. Offyou go with Gem, she said, pointing at the doorway.

Tom looked at Mrs Johnson for an instant before sliding back off the stool and takingtwo short steps towards Gem.

Thats right, said Gem, resisting the urge to put a hand out to guide the boy.Mrs Johnson positioned herself behind Tom and hurried him from the room. I will

see you later, before bed, she said, closing the door after him.Tom looked back at the door.Its all right, said Gem. She led him away from the laundry room, checking every few

feet or so that he was following.As they toured the building, several other children met them as they passed, but none

took particular interest in Tom other than to look him up and down. The new arrival how-

ever, seemed to shudder away from each person as if pre-empting any form of possible con-frontation.

The first thing Gem decided to show him was the dining hall and its benches set alongits long walls. They found it largely empty apart from a handful of girls sitting talking, whoimmediately stopped and looked at Gem and Tom as they stood in the doorway.

That the new boy? asked one.Yes, this is Tom, said Gem with a flourish of the hands towards the boy beside her.

And this is Edith, Merrill and Flo, introduced Gem in reverse.The girls turned away, indicating the two were not worth their interest, and resumed

their conversation.Really! said Gem under her breath. Well, this is where we come for our meals, but

theres not much more to say about it than that, she snapped, turning on one heal indig-nantly and marching from the room.

Tom waited for a moment and then followed her, still clutching his box of marbles inhis arms.

The next stop was a large room at the back of the second floor where two youngerboys, near Toms own age, sat at the far end playing with a castle, which was little more thanfour pieces of painted wooden boards slotted together, and a small collection of knight figu-rines.

Do you like knights? Gem asked.Toms wondered about the room, surveying its contents, but he did not answer.Gem tried again, Do you like knights? she asked louder.

Tom turned to her and shook his head.Letting out a deep breath, she showed him some of the items in the room. Skipping

rope. Although, you must use that outside in the courtyard. Blocks. Hoops, trap and ball, tipcat Oh, you might like this, said Gem, pointing to a corner. A toy theatre, but I thinkmost of it has been put together already. Doesnt mean you cant play with it though! shesaid hopefully. Do you wanna make a play? she asked.

Tom looked on at her, displaying no signs of interest or desire.Nah, its kids stuff, aint it? Do you want to play with the marbles instead? Im quitegood.


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He shook his head and pulled the small box even tighter to his body.I wont take them away from you, theyre yours, she tried in an attempt to relax him,

but to no avail.Gems shoulders sagged. She was beginning to feel defeated. There aint much here,

she said. I mean, not much more to show you. I cant go into the boys dormitory and Idont think youd like the club room. She waited for a while, pondering within her ownthoughts. Would you like to go outside? she asked suddenly.

Tom gave no reply.Well, lets go have a look, said Gem, leading him away from the room.

They threaded their way through the buildings twisting corridors before they reacheda heavy looking door on the ground floor. Gem pushed it open, and, as drafty as it had beenin the building, a new level of coldness washed over the pair as the night air spilled acrossthem. Gem stepped out into the dark courtyard as Earl Grey slunk in past her ankles, havingbeen regally waiting for someone to open the door for him.

Do you like cats? asked Gem to no reply. Me neither, she said.Turning, Gem watched as Tom walked forwards, a tentative step at a time. She took a

deep breath of the frosty air and looked up at the stars.Mmmm, she murmured.

Tom stepped beside her and followed her eyes upwards. It was the closest he had ven-tured towards her in the past half hour, and for that Gem was pleased.

My real name is Gemma. Gemma Lightfoot, she said. But I hate Gemma, so every-one calls me Gem. She hesitated, unsure of what to say next. Dr Vandell told me what itmeans. Gemma is Latin. Do you know what it means? It means

Tom spoke, Jewel.Her eyes widened, and she stared at the boy bathed in the gaslight from the street

lamp across the courtyard. You can speak!Tom looked away over the frosted cobblestones, his eyes darting from one point of

interest within the courtyard to the next.Gem contained herself, she wanted to grasp his arms and shake him into sentiency.

Gemma, she said. It meansThere was no answer.My name is Gemma. Its Latin. It means.Nothing.I really dont know she said to herself, turning away from the boy, folding her

arms across her chest and looking into the night. She shook her head several times before

glancing back at the boy. For once, he studied the same thing as her. She looked back at thestars.

That, she said, pointing at a bright constellation, is Orion.The boy shook his head.Yes, it is. That is the group of stars called Orion. I learned it.

Again, the boy shook his head.Yes, it is, said Gem resolutely.

Tom shook his head.Gem dropped her face from looking at the sky and turned to the boy.

Very slowly, Tom placed his wooden box on the wet cobblestones underfoot andcrouched to open it. From within he took eight of the marbles and held them flat upon hishand as he stood straight again.


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Chapter Four

The Incident with Mrs Davies

The pair stood in silence as Gem wrestled with the experience.She slowly walked around the marbles hanging in the night air before them. Standing

on tiptoes, she reached up and took the bottommost one between her fingertips. It cameaway in her hand with the slightest of pulls, but all the time she held the little glass ball shecould feel it wanting to return to the pattern. She opened her fingers and let it float backthrough the air, where it retook its former position. She spluttered, unable to vocalise her

wonderment.Who left this door wide open? demanded a voice approaching them from within the

building.The marbles fell from the air to the stones underfoot, clinking and scattering them-

selves across the yard. Immediately, Tom rushed forward and began picking them up, chas-

ing the rolling spheres as they dispersed in different directions.Who left this door open? repeated the voice. Gem recognised it as belonging to MrsDavies, an imposing Welsh woman who answered to Mrs Johnson, and liked nothing morethan to terrify the children.

So, it was you, was it, Lightfoot? came the booming voice as Mrs Davies reached thedoorway and looked down on the pair of children through narrow eyes and a thin, disap-proving, down turned mouth. Lines of middle age ran across her forehead and around thecorners of her lips in deep furrows. I should have known, she said, piercing Gem withscorn while shaking her head.

And whats this? she asked, pointing at Tom.

Tom, maam, replied Gem. She disliked three things at the refuge immensely andthey had never gotten any better over the years. Privacy was one that you simply had to learnto deal without, and was to Gems mind, unavoidable, so you just had to get on with it. Sec-ondly, the overgrown mog, Earl Grey. However, he largely kept out of her way and she outof his, and they found a balance to their mutual dislike. Finally, and vastly outweighing all ofher previous list, Mrs Davies.

Dr Vandell did not believe in beating the children and therefore prohibited it as amethod of punishment, but Mrs Davies found this simply increased her creativeness, and thechildren feared many forms of her wrath; from spoonfuls of sickening soda and rhubarb, to

being locked in various cupboards or scrubbing floors for hours upon end.


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Mrs Davies folded her arms under her breast, signalling her disapproval. Her spideryblack hair was pinned up in a tightly twisted pile, and it made her look even taller as shelooked down on the children.

Gem bent and collected two of the marbles that had landed at her feet.And what, exactly, is it that you two are doing out here at this time of night? And why,

exactly, have you left the front entrance wide open?I began Gem, unsure of where to take her reply, but straightening herself upright

and trying to present some form of composure to Mrs Davies.Do you think for one moment that Dr Vandell pays good money for you to heat the

whole of London by leaving the doors wide open in the middle of winter?No, maam, came Gems weak reply.And you, whats wrong with you? demanded Mrs Davies of Tom.Dr Vandell asked me to look after him, said Gem.I dont recall asking you. I was speaking to the boy, she spat acidly back at Gem.

Again, she looked towards Tom, who was opening his wooden box and putting the marblesin, paying no attention to the daunting figure of Mrs Davies at all. Gem realised this was ag-

gravating the situation significantly.Mrs Davies, Tom isnt but Gem found herself cut-off before she could finish her

sentence.Enough. Inside, the pair of you! snapped the woman, pointing an arm and extended

finger at the doorway.Gem began to make her way back into the refuge before looking across at Tom.

Come on, Tom, she said, waving her hand, indicating that he should join them by her side.Tom looked at her and shook his head, turning back to hunching over and searching

across the cobblestones for the missing marbles in the dark.I have them, said Gem, taking a step towards Tom, holding her hand out to show

him the marbles.Get in the building at once! barked Mrs Davies.Gem shuddered and bent backwards, as if pressured to do so by the force of the or-

der. But, Mrs DaviesBut, nothing! screeched the woman, thrusting a finger at the open door.Gem obeyed, taking a few steps towards the door, shaken by the nature of the com-

mand and the strength of the womans anger.Mrs Davies marched across the courtyard to Tom, grabbing him by the arm and lifting

him towards her, before wrenching the wooden box from his grip and pulling him towards

the door.

Tom felt the sudden loss of himself and the courtyard disappeared. He saw the woman as ayoung girl. He stood beside her unknown, watching her as she whimpered in fear. A big man

with dirty hands bellowed at her, his face awash with rage. He told her that she was ruininghis life, as he pushed her into the pitch black of the cellar and locked the door on her. Thecellar terrified her and he knew the fear as his own. Tom screamed.

Dont touch him! cried Gem in warning.

I beg your pardon! snapped Mrs Davies, pulling the frightened looking boy behindher. It was then that he growled and bit her hand. Gem gasped in surprise.


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Mrs Davies stopped dead and turned on Tom, OW! You bit me, you little devil! Howdare you? She drew one of her arms across her body as if she were about to backhand him.

Tom looked terrified and retreated away from the woman the second her hand re-leased its grip about his arm.

Mrs Davies appeared stunned for moment, before shaking off the surprise and lung-ing again at Toms wrist.

Tom withdrew, pulling away before crying out at her. No!As his word echoed about the courtyard, Mrs Davies was cast back, physically

knocked from her feet by a tremendous force that ballooned out around Tom in a heat-likewave that momentarily distorted the air around him.

Mrs Davies fell like a rag doll, dropping the box, which shattered on the cobblestones,allowing the marbles to escape again. Gem rushed to her side and knelt over her.

Are you all right? asked Gem, picking up Mrs Davies hand.The woman looked shocked. For a moment, she stared silently across the courtyard at

Tom. Why the evil little she began.Dr Vandell and Mrs Johnson came rushing into the yard, as did a group of three of

the other children, following them out into the courtyard to investigate the commotion.Whatever is going on? cried Dr Vandell. He looked about the scene and moved

quickly to Mrs Davies side, helping Gem to assist the fallen woman.He knocked me clean off my feet! said Mrs Davies, raising a finger towards Tom,

who had retreated several more paces and had covered his eyes with his hands and began tohum loudly to himself, rocking back and forth in his stance. Mrs Johnson looked betweenthe two sides of the yard and quickly made her way to Tom, where she stopped and gotdown on her knees, preventing herself from touching him by placing her hands on her lap.

What happened? asked Dr Vandell, looking at Gem.Mrs Davies wanted us to come inside, but Tom was collecting the marbles which he

had dropped, and when she pulled him Gem was unsure of what to say next, but MrsDavies was not troubled with such difficulties.

The little rat bit me, and then pushed me off my feet.Gem let a breath of relief out, unsure though if Mrs Davies was trying to convince

herself that Tom had physically pushed her, or that she believed that is what happened. Ei-ther way, Gem left it unchallenged. I tried to explain, she said.

Yes, yes, of course, said the doctor, looking with concern at Mrs Davies. Are youhurt? he asked.

No. Nothing broken. Although, I was lucky the terror didnt break the skin where he

bit me!Are you sure you arent hurt?

As if in answer, Mrs Davies shook both the doctor and Gem away from her as shestraightened her hair and clothing.

Aside from the others, Mrs Johnson was still attempting to calm Tom without touch-ing him, to little avail, as he continued rocking and humming to himself, his hands pressedon his eyes, covering his face.

Perhaps you ought to retire for the evening, Mrs Davies? suggested Dr Vandell.No, no I just arrived. You cannot allow these children to get the better of you like

that! Show no weakness, Dr Vandell.Yes, of course, he said. This whole situation is unfortunately of my making, as Ifailed to inform you of our new boy, Tom. I was going to tell you a little later.


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Im sure you were, said Mrs Davies, looking sideways at a growing group of childrengathering by the door, peering out with unchecked curiosity at the dramatics. I expect themboth to be punished, you understand? I must insist upon it.

Well, we can discuss that, but Tom is a unique boy, who needs great understandingand

Yes, well, Doctor, she said interrupting him, I should get back to work. Mrs Daviesturned on a heel with a newly cultivated look of sternness upon her face and began stridingback into the building, pointing at the group of children in the doorway and flicking her fin-gers at them. What do you all think you are doing? she said, and the onlookers scatteredback into the building as she moved towards them.

Soon, Gem and Dr Vandell were the only ones left watching Mrs Johnson attemptingto calm Tom. She was singing gently to him, with some measure of success.

We very much fear,That we have lost our mittens.Lost your mittens!

You naughty kittens!Then you shall have no pie.

Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow.

She sang the words soothingly. Eventually the humming stopped and Tom reappeared frombehind his hands, his face reddened and wet.

Gem began to collect the marbles from the ground, scooping them up into a make-shift pocket she made from a fold in her dress.

Mrs Johnson continued to whisper to Tom as Dr Vandell assisted Gem with the col-lection of the marbles.

I fear Ive made a terrible mistake, Gem, he said, bending beside her and shaking hishead.

Why, sir? Mrs Davies didnt understand that Tom doesnt like to be touched.No, Gem. The issue is that this is a refuge for children. Somewhere for those who are

without homes to stay. It is not an orphanage, and we dont have the resources to look aftersomeone like Tom in the way that they, or perhaps a hospital, would be able to, he said,straightening up and passing Gem a handful of the glass marbles.

No, please, sir! Not somewhere like that, pleaded Gem. Its just a matter of time.Hell fit in. Im sure of it.

Its not that easy, Gem. Youve spent some time with him and seen how he is. Hecannot relate to people properly. Youve seen what can come of that. He could have bittenMrs Davies finger off, or considerably hurt her when she fell.

She brought that on herself.It may well have been, but the result is the same. Mrs Johnson doesnt need to be

trained in how to handle someone like Tom. Tom needs to be trained to meet people likeMrs Johnson. He needs far more supervision than we can offer here. The refuge is abouthelping young people become adults, and begin to look after and provide for themselves. Itsclear already that Tom wont ever be able to do that.

You dont know that! said Gem.


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Not for certain, but Im sure that in order to find the answer, he needs to look for itelsewhere. No, my mind is made up. In the morning, I will contact some people and findsomewhere far more suitable for Tom. Somewhere that he will be happy.

But, hes special!Of that I have no doubt, Gem, but that only emphasises the need he has for special

care. Anyway, lets sleep on it, and if you want, we can discuss it tomorrow. With that, thedoctor signalled the end of the conversation by turning towards Mrs Johnson and Tom, deepin a conversation of their own, although it appeared heavily one-sided in Mrs Johnsons fa-

vour.Perhaps a nice cup of hot coco too, she said to Tom, smiling. I think a boy would

like that before bedtime.Gem ambled towards the pair of them and showed the contents of the pocket she had

made with her dress to Tom.The box is broken, but theyre all here, she said, with a nod towards the marbles.

Tom shook his head and looked up at Mrs Johnson, who smiled in return and stood.Gem watched them leave and a feeling of failure engulfed her.

Dr Vandell reached inside his pocket and took out his cigar case, removing a cigar andstriking a match to light it.

Fifteen, Tom said to Mrs Johnson, as he followed her back through the doorway.

The vagrant slunk along under a high wall, following its path and falling into its shadow. Hestopped, looked about until he had assured himself that nobody observed him, and droppeddown into a crouch. From within his right overcoat pocket he pulled out a dirtied whitehandkerchief tied into a neat pouch at each of the four corners. The bundle clinked as he laidit upon the ground before himself. Carefully, he untied the knotted corners and unfolded thehandkerchief, exposing the contents; a mixed collection of small screws, tiny bolts, shortpins, cogs, gears and numerous other delicate looking items. He reached into his oppositepocket, withdrawing the gold pocket watch he had stolen, and began turning it in his hands,studying its craftsmanship, his grimy fingernails tracing its contours.

As if the watch suddenly grew distasteful to him, the vagrant struck the it against theground with a sharp slap of his hand, shattering its glass. He began pulling at the broken faceand feverously striking it against the ground several more times. Eventually the casing fellapart and he sifted through the inner workings of the watch, shaking them out onto hishandkerchief and adding the mechanisms components to his strange collection of tiny items.He casually discarded the gold casing before turning his interest to a coiled spring before

him. He squeezed it between his thumb and forefinger, nodding to himself in approval andadded it to the pile of parts.

He began sorting through the pieces with his dirty fingernails, pulling parts towardshimself and pushing others away until he formed a small separate pile of tiny mechanicalcomponents.

The vagrant drew his hand across his mouth, his eyes darting quickly across the hand-kerchief before him. He reached out with his arm and placed his palm above the selection ofparts. The pieces shook for an instant and the tiny cogs and pins began to draw towards eachother across the cloth of the handkerchief, slotting together to form a delicate framework.

Other pieces joined, seemingly of their own will, until a clockwork dragonfly crawled forthfrom the handkerchief and onto the ground. It fluttered its mechanical wings with a buzz,


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before taking to the air and hovering in front of the vagrant, who smiled as he observed thestrange creature before him.


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Chapter Five

The Dark Men

The following day was Sunday, which meant no work and a short reprieve from the relent-less motions of the rest of the week. Other than Reverend Grants visit and testament read-ings after dinner, the day was the childrens own.

The refuge was largely empty by mid-morning, as many of the children had gone out-side, leaving only a few behind in the clubroom.

The weather was bitter and everyone expected the darkening grey of the sky to bringsnow with it before long, and it seemed one adult could not pass another without mention-ing the fact.

Gem had tried to follow Tom and Mrs Johnson about the building, but had grownbored quickly and so she chose to lie on her bed with her shoes on the blanket, knowing she

would be in trouble if someone discovered her doing so. She felt grumpy and lazy, willing toargue with anyone that came near her. She stared at the high ceiling with her arms behind herhead, sighing to herself. Outside she could hear a mixture of childrens voices in a cacophonyof shrill screaming and chants as they played games in the courtyard.

Urgh, grunted Gem, rolling onto her side, placing her hands under her face as amakeshift pillow.

She continued to lie in that position for a further fifteen minutes, closing her eyes, butnever falling asleep, further fuelling her dislike that afternoon of the rest of the world.

Eventually she noticed a difference. At first she was unable to put her finger on it, but

quickly realised that the children outside had become quiet. Mentally she thanked them andassumed they had moved on elsewhere, but a click-clack of horses hooves across the court-yard and a rumbling of a carriage soon followed.

Gem lifted herself from the bed and climbed upon the ironwork bedstead to peerdown through one of the windows where she found the arrival of a strange coach in the yardhad forced the children to move back in order to make way.

The driver reigned in the horses, bringing the carriage to a halt. After only a moment,the door opened and a man with dark eyes and tightly drawn lips stepped out of the coach,followed by a taller, broader companion with thick feral-looking side-whiskers.

The striking men were dressed identically. Each wore a black suit, with frock jacketsreaching to slightly above the knee, at which point perfectly matching trousers ran down tomeet highly polished shoes. Both wore crisp white wing-collared shirts, showing just an inch


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or so at the wrist. Around the neck, each man wore a well-secured black bow tie, and bothcarried matching derby hats. Together the men struck an imposing image and the children inthe yard watched silently as they approached the door to the refuge.

In her time at the refuge, Gem had witnessed many visitors. None had ever been soformal looking, not even the occasional visits some of the refuges children had warrantedthe police to make over the years. A feeling rose in her stomach and she instinctively knewsomething was happening concerning Tom.

Leaping from the bed, Gem ran from the room and raced to the ground floor. Breath-ing heavily, she made her way to the hallway outside Dr Vandells office, just in time to catchsight of the strange men, led in by the doctor, who closed the door to the office as they dis-appeared inside.

Gem crept to the door and put her head towards its surface, holding her ear only aninch from the wood as she attempted to listen to the conversation on the far side.

Welcome, gentlemen.Thank you, Dr Vandell, said one of the men in little more than a whisper that was

difficult for Gem to discern. Please allow us to introduce ourselves properly. This is Mr

Voyce, and I am Mr Payne.Its a pleasure to meet you both, said the doctor. Perhaps, I may offer you a cigar?No. replied Mr Payne abruptly, before suffixing his response with, Thank you, we do

not smoke. Now, if we may begin said Payne, wasting no time, I shall move on to the issueat hand. We understand that you currently have a boy in your possession. A boy by the nameof Tom. An unusual boy. The words lingered long after they were spoken. Each passingS hissing snakelike through the air. Gem disliked him immensely, without a reasonablehesitation in doing so.

Well, sir, I dont know if I would go so far as to describe him as being in my posses-sion, but yes, there is a young boy who has recently joined us, of that name. Perhaps, I mayask how you came to hear of this.

Gem made out the sound of a match being struck and bursting into flame.Yes, of course, said Mr Payne. The boy we seek ran away from St. Andrews Home

for Boys, in Coventry, some three months ago, he replied, employing syllables held onto fortoo long and letters sharply over-pronounced.

Really?Yes, and we have been sent to collect him. We heard that he was in the area, and were

referred to your refuge.Mmm... And would you be able to give me a better description of the boy you seek?

Of course, doctor came the elongated reply. He is a young boy, of approximatlyfifteen years of age, thin in frame. He has dark hair and blue eyes, but perhaps the most sig-nificant comment to be made about him is that he speaks very infrequently and has acute dif-ficulties in communicating with others.

Yes, that would be Tom all right.Gem leant painfully close to the d

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