Before the Storm Page 4

  ‘Oh, don’t worry, I’ll say it was me, playing soldiers,’ Daniel volunteered, suddenly feeling proud that he could do something to take the side of Fox.

  ‘Fox, do you know what I find strange about you?’ Emily asked. ‘You are so very English, yet so strangely foreign, too.’

  Daniel cringed. His sister was being friendly, but asking awkward questions. Perhaps if I say nothing Fox will not think I’m on her side, thought Daniel. Why can’t I just shout at her not to be so nosy? Am I a coward? Compliment people in a friendly tone and they will soon give up their deepest secrets, his mother had often told them. To Daniel, it seemed a mean thing to do, but Emily did it all the time.

  ‘Is compliment?’ asked Fox after one of his strange, blanked-out pauses.

  ‘Yes, it is!’ snapped Daniel, finally gathering the courage to challenge his sister. ‘It is a compliment, isn’t it Emily? You’re not trying to make Fox admit he’s a criminal or something?’

  ‘Daniel Lang, how dare you be so rude to our guest!’ said Emily. ‘And after he saved us, too.’

  The accusation took Daniel completely by surprise. From being Fox’s defender, Daniel now seemed as if he had attacked Fox. Daniel stood in silence, floundering for words. That turned out to be a mistake as well. Emily picked up the boots.

  ‘Here are your boots, Fox, all clean and polished,’ she said. ‘Is your uniform all right?’

  ‘Smell, is strange.’

  ‘Martha put essence of lavender in the drying closet to make the cloth smell like it’s something girls wear,’ said Daniel sullenly. ‘She does it to my clothes, too.’

  ‘My thanks.’

  ‘And the groom cleaned and polished your boots,’ added Emily.

  ‘Again, my thanks,’ replied Fox.

  Daniel left the room shaking his head, wondering how his sister had suddenly taken charge of the situation so completely. More of those feminine wiles that people keep talking about, he decided. He resolved to make a study of feminine wiles, and wondered if his father had a book about them in his library.

  As the Lang family walked along Bay Street with Fox, they met with Mr Aitkinson, the grocer. Daniel found himself stuck with Mr Aitkinson and his father. After refusing to invite Fox to church, then spying on him, Emily was now monopolising him.

  ‘A hero, then?’ asked Mr Aitkinson after Mr Lang raised the subject of a job for Fox. ‘Well, that’s good, but can he keep his mind on the job? You know, deliver packages without a fuss, not stop to talk with idlers on street corners, that sort of thing.’

  ‘He has worked on a ship, Mr Aitkinson, I’m sure he is very reliable and disciplined,’ replied Mr Lang.

  ‘Sailors are notorious for thievery.’

  ‘Anything that he steals, I shall replace the worth out of my own pocket.’

  ‘Will you? Well, in that case, I could give him a try. What say tomorrow, then?’

  By the time they reached the church Fox had a job, but all through the service Daniel felt uneasy. Mr Aitkinson was not very respectable, even though he was careful not to show it in front of most people. Daniel knew that boys from the neighbourhood who had the right passwords could buy French postcards from the grocer. These featured girls in artistic poses wearing no clothes. Would Fox be corrupted by working for the grocer? If his parents found out, would they forbid him to see Fox? On the other hand, Daniel had managed to acquire a few of Mr Aitkinson’s postcards from one of his own contacts, yet he did not feel corrupt.

  By the closing hymn Daniel had concluded that if Fox’s moral standards had survived life aboard a ship, then Mr Aitkinson was unlikely to damage them. Suddenly Daniel realised that Fox had known all the right responses, prayers and hymns throughout the service. Daniel thought back to the song that Fox had been singing when he and Emily had surprised him. Fox spoke with a heavy accent, yet he sang like an Englishman.

  Fox was predictably polite and well-mannered during Sunday lunch, almost to the point of being boring. After the meal, he and Daniel played chess and Fox won six games in a row. That’s my problem, thought Daniel. I never think ahead. Mr Lang proposed a challenge match. Again Fox won. Fox was playing Emily when Daniel decided to go to the kitchen for a drink. It was now that Martha approached him.

  ‘I didn’t want to alarm the old folks, Master Daniel, so I come to you,’ the maid explained. ‘It’s that Fox again.’

  Daniel knew that for Martha to talk to him about anything at all was very unusual.

  ‘What’s he done?’ he asked, his heart sinking.

  ‘There’s things missin’. Odd things from the medicine cabinet, pantry and laundry. Some little empty jars are gone from the wood yard pile, an’ I swear there’s some bicarb of soda, Condy’s crystals, bleach, lemons, and suchlike gone from the bottles and packets. It was probably taken last night, like.’

  Daniel thought about this for some moments. One of his own friends, the notorious Barry the Bag, was liable to steal nearly anything that was not nailed down, but he would draw the line at Condy’s crystals, bleach, and empty jars. He was more likely to steal a bottle of wine than lemons. Daniel was sure that this was something to do with Fox.

  ‘It must have been one of my friends,’ Daniel decided. ‘I’ll get him to pay us back.’

  ‘I didn’t think any’d come round since Friday.’

  ‘If Barry the Bag was going to steal something, he would have kept out of your sight,’ said Daniel firmly.

  ‘But I’m sure the little rat hasn’t been ’ere since Friday.’

  ‘He might have,’ countered Daniel.

  This had more than the desired effect on Martha, who lost colour and clasped her hands anxiously. Mr Lang had ordered her to keep an eye on Daniel’s friends after the last bottle of wine had gone missing. If she had missed a visit from Barry the Bag, it would not go well with her.

  ‘Er, d’yer think Mr Lang will take it out o’ me wages, like?’ Martha asked.

  ‘No, and I shall put in a good word for you if he asks,’ Daniel assured her.

  ‘Oh young sir, would yer really? I been ’aving a bad time of it lately, an’ I’d hate ter add another blot ter me copybook.’

  ‘I’m not Emily, you don’t have to worry,’ said Daniel. ‘Now, um, can you do something else for me?’

  ‘Oh aye, anything.’

  ‘Promise to say nothing about this to anyone but me.’

  ‘Oh aye, that I will.’

  ‘And if anything else is stolen, let me know at once.’

  ‘That I will, young master, betcha life on it.’

  Daniel dashed out of the house and ran to the local railway station to speak with Barry the Bag. Barry was about Daniel’s age, and issued and collected tickets at the station when his father was too drunk to be on duty. As far as Daniel could tell, this was most of the time. Barry was extracting tobacco from discarded cigarettes for resale to his father’s friends when Daniel arrived.

  ‘Dan the Man, man o’ mine!’ called the short, thin and very shifty-looking Barry as Daniel arrived.

  Mrs Lang said that Barry always looked as if he were about to snatch something and run. In fact Barry never snatched anything. He just had a way of picking up things as if they were his, then walking away with them. Barry held out a tobacco-stained hand to Daniel. Barry was the only person that Daniel knew who had tobacco stains on his fingers but did not smoke.

  ‘Look, Barry, I don’t have much time,’ began Daniel.

  ‘That’s the way it is, Dan Man. Them wot has it all don’t have no time, them wot’s resourcefully deprived like me got all the time in the world.’

  ‘Last night, do you remember selling a ticket to someone about my height and dressed like me?’

  ‘Yeah, now that you mention it. Cove with real neat hair, talked like a foreigner.’

  ‘Yes, yes. Barry, tell me all about him. Did he do anything odd?’

  ‘Dunno, nothin’ much to tell. The bloke stood about on the platform, then got on the train. Oh, an’ he checked some
stuff from ’is pockets. Little jars, lemons, that’s all I could see. Wasn’t really lookin’ if the truth be known.’

  ‘Things are missing back at the house …’

  Barry suddenly went on the defensive; that is, he cringed slightly then glanced to his right and left.

  ‘I only polished off the scotch wot was left in yer old man’s glass!’ he protested softly. ‘You know, like the Bible says. Waste not, want not.’

  ‘The Bible doesn’t say that.’

  ‘Doesn’t it? So, wot’s gone?’

  ‘Condy’s crystals.’

  ‘Wot’s that?’

  ‘Potassium permanganate. It turns water purple.’

  ‘Shit, eh? Wot else?’

  ‘Bleach.’

  ‘Yeah, I’ve heard o’ that. Wot is it?’

  ‘It turns white cloth white.’

  ‘Turns white things white? Ain’t that one o’ those astrologies ya told me about, like when ya say the same thing twice when ya only need to say it once?’

  ‘I think you mean tautologies.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘What about missing jars?’

  ‘Jars of wot?’

  ‘Empty jars.’

  Barry burst out laughing.

  ‘Dan the Man, ya been at yer old man’s scotch or wot? Me, take jars full of bleach and, er, that other stuff? Ya want my opinion?’

  ‘That’s why I’m here, Barry!’ muttered Daniel impatiently.

  ‘I reckon ya got a visitor wot’s a dodgy leaf, and who’s doin’ laundry, an’ I reckon it’s that cove wot bought the tikky last night.’

  Daniel thought about this for some moments.

  ‘As much as I hate to admit it, Barry, I fear you are right.’

  Daniel returned home to find Mrs Lang playing the piano while Mr Lang sang some song about being a modern major general. Fox, Emily and Martha were their audience. Daniel was very uneasy about the situation. On the one hand, he owed Fox his life, yet what did one do if one owed one’s life to a thief? Emily seemed to think that she always had an answer for everything. Daniel hated to admit it, but she did seem to have been right about Fox. Fox had to be followed, but there was a problem with that. Daniel had no money for the train. Emily had money, however. She never did anything wrong, so her allowance was never stopped. Far from hiding the thefts from her, Daniel decided that he would confront her with them. Daniel beckoned to Emily from the parlour doorway. She seemed quite anxious to leave the room, which was understandable, given their father’s singing voice.

  ‘It was so humiliating. I beat Fox at chess!’ she exclaimed softly as they reached the kitchen. ‘I could see that he was trying, too. What will he think of me? Mother will never let me hear the end of it.’

  ‘Listen!’ hissed Daniel. ‘Please, just listen. Things have been stolen.’

  ‘What things?’ demanded Emily at once. ‘If that Barry has …’

  ‘Shush! Keep your voice down.’

  ‘Well, what things?’

  ‘Small, odd things. Empty jars, Condy’s crystals, bleach, lemons.’

  ‘It must have been that horrid Barry the Bag from the railway station.’

  ‘He said he didn’t.’

  ‘And you believed him? That dirty little ruffian who sells those, those, er, horrid French pictures of women doing shameful things.’

  ‘They’re art pictures, and besides, he says he only delivers them for Mr Aitkinson.’

  ‘They’re pictures of orgies!’ insisted Emily.

  ‘You don’t even know what orgies are!’

  ‘Yes I do!’

  ‘Well, what are they?’

  ‘They’re dinner parties that respectable people don’t go to.’

  ‘How would you know?’ Daniel demanded. ‘Have you ever seen one?’

  ‘I don’t have to. From all the filthy giggles and whispers that I have overheard from you and your ruffian friends, I know what they must be like, and –’

  ‘All right, all right, Emmy, look, what about Fox? Martha noticed things missing last night.’

  ‘Martha? Why didn’t she tell me?’

  ‘I asked her not to, I wanted to check with Barry first.’

  ‘Barry would never admit to stealing anything.’

  ‘Would Barry steal bleach and lemons?’

  ‘Perhaps not,’ Emily conceded.

  ‘Barry says that Fox bought a ticket for Flinders Street, and that while he was waiting for the train he took jars and lemons from his pockets and looked at them. He told me this before I said that anything had been stolen.’

  ‘Well then, Fox was quite probably building something scientific, something to do with electricity. He’s very clever.’

  She’s changed! thought Daniel. The moment I change sides, she changes the other way. She must do it to annoy me, and for no other reason. Daniel was surprised that he had never noticed this before.

  ‘Well that’s all right, then,’ concluded Daniel, who then turned and began to walk away.

  ‘Wait!’ called Emily. ‘You have to tell someone.’

  ‘Why? You approve of what he did.’

  ‘I never said that –’ began Emily.

  ‘Then tell Father.’

  For some moments, Emily squirmed. Daniel stood watching, in no mood to give her any way out.

  ‘It is odd,’ admitted Emily finally. ‘I mean, Mother would have given him whatever he wanted willingly, if he had asked.’

  ‘She would also have asked why he wanted it. Mother is very nosy. What if he didn’t want anyone to know?’

  This seemed enough to convince Emily that the matter was to be taken seriously. She thought carefully, her arms tightly folded across her chest.

  ‘Danny, Martha said another bottle of wine went missing some days ago.’

  ‘What?’ exclaimed Daniel in alarm. ‘But I watch Barry very carefully now.’

  ‘Not carefully enough, it seems. What happened to you last time?’

  ‘Three strokes of the cane from Father, and I had to pay for a new bottle out of my allowance.’

  ‘Well then, I have a proposal for you. I shall pay Martha to replace that bottle out of my savings if you will ask Fox about the missing things.’

  I had beaten her! he fumed silently. I had her cornered. I won the argument. What did she do? Daniel tried to think logically. She changed the argument, I suppose.

  ‘So, the missing bottle was something you were saving up to win the next argument,’ said Daniel.

  ‘Daniel!’ shouted Emily, stamping her foot. ‘What a despicable thing to say.’

  ‘Explain why it isn’t true,’ responded Daniel.

  Once again Emily squirmed. She liked to win, and he was getting tired of being beaten.

  ‘The bottle is still missing,’ she reminded him.

  ‘Then tell Father. I can take another caning.’

  It was a high price to pay to slip out of his sister’s grip, but Daniel had decided that it was worth it.

  ‘No! Danny, look, we need to do something about Fox. I know he saved us, but if he is a thief, well, who knows what he might take next?’

  ‘I think I should follow him.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because it’s better to ask him.’

  ‘No it isn’t. If I ask him, he could lie. If I follow him, I’ll know for sure.’

  Daniel had one important factor in his favour. He was allowed out alone, and Emily was not.

  ‘All right then, do so,’ she muttered reluctantly.

  ‘I have no money for the train, and Fox travels by train.’

  ‘No money?’ asked Emily. ‘Why not? Too many sweets from Mr Aitkinson?’

  ‘Our parents think I can be kept out of trouble by stopping my pocket money every time I even pick my nose, that’s why I have no money. Well?’

  ‘Yes, all right, I’ll give you money for the fare. How much is it?’

  Daniel quoted her a little more than the price of a return ticket to the cit
y. As he had hoped, she did not know the price of a ticket. She hurried upstairs to get the money, leaving Daniel in the kitchen. I did it, I beat her, he thought. He sat down on a chair, almost dizzy with shock and relief. Emily returned with her purse.

  ‘Find out where he goes and what he does,’ she said as she counted out the coins.

  ‘And you won’t tell Mother and Father?’

  ‘Of course not! Remember what I said? Fox may be innocent. He may be doing some science class at a mechanics institute, to better himself. We may even be able to help him.’

  ‘He would ask if he wanted help.’

  ‘Nonsense. He may be too embarrassed.’

  Daniel watched from a distance as Fox bought a ticket at the railway station, then walked up the platform and stood with his cap pulled over his eyes. Now Daniel went to the ticket window.

  ‘Dan the Man, yer back again,’ said Barry from behind the window. ‘And where would you be goin’ this fine Sunday?’

  Barry the Bag was still standing in for his father, who was probably asleep in one of the station’s rooms.

  Daniel thought quickly. ‘Same as my friend, Fox,’ he heard himself say.

  ‘Flinders Street it is, Danny Boy, except that I expect you want a return tikky. Funny cove, don’t know why he didn’t get a return tikky when he came out ’ere. Oi, remember that postcard wot I showed you a while back?’

  Daniel blushed at once.

  ‘Yes, the, er, artistic photograph of the, er, French girl.’

  ‘Yeah, well, old man Aitkinson’s got a new bundle in and he says that they’re amazin’ly artistic. I got some old ones, an’ I thought, like, you’d like ’em for sixpence. That’s tuppence each, a real bargain.’

  ‘You mean three?’ asked Daniel, torn between alarm and curiosity.

  ‘Yeah, look, I got ’em ’ere. See, she’s takin’ ’er bathin’ costume off, and ’ere’s one sittin’ on a swing – that’s a good one, she’s showin’ the lot. And lookey, two sittin’ on a barrel. That’s two for one card, a penny each at tuppence, you know?’

  The whistle of a train sounded in the distance. Daniel glanced about, saw that nobody was watching, tried to convince himself that he had to buy the three postcards so that Barry would not become suspicious, then handed over his sixpence. That left only one other sixpence for emergencies, but then Daniel had got a strange feeling of satisfaction from spending Emily’s money on filthy pictures. Moments later he found himself on the platform with three French postcards in his coat pocket. He sat down and raised a newspaper he had taken from the rubbish bin, even though the train was approaching. The train chuffed into the station and stopped. Daniel waited until Fox was making for a carriage before he lowered his paper, got up, and hurried to board the train.