Goodly and Grave 3-Book Story Collection

A new round of poker began. As the cards were dealt, Lucy quietly made her way across the room until she stood just behind Lady Red’s chair.

Lady Red lost the first game. But then something strange happened. The same something strange Lucy saw last time she watched this mysterious woman play poker. The cards in Lady Red’s hand went blank. A few seconds later, they became new cards. Cards that won the poker game instantly. Last time Lucy had witnessed this amazing trick, she had noticed something else. The edge of a playing card poking out from Lady Red’s sleeve.

The other players, who had noticed nothing amiss, muttered angrily as they discovered they had lost the game.

“Another round?” one particularly grubby individual asked.

Lady Red declined, as Lucy expected she would. She only ever stayed for one or two hands of poker.

“How does she do it?” Lucy muttered to herself as Lady Red gathered up the notes and coins she’d won, and pushed back her chair, which banged straight into Lucy.

“Oh, I’m sorry, sweet child, I didn’t see you there! Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine,” Lucy said, hoping the woman wouldn’t guess she’d been spying.

“Well, that’s a relief. In that case, I wonder if you’d mind helping me to my coach?” Lady Red said as she finished stuffing her winnings into a fancy silk bag. “I’m wearing most unsuitable shoes for this icy weather.” She lifted her long skirts to show a pair of dainty scarlet velvet shoes with a high pointed heel. “I’ll reward you, of course.”

Lucy agreed instantly. They made their way outside, where Lucy took the woman’s arm and helped her to the black carriage that was waiting. It was drawn by a fine dark horse, its breath steaming in the cold air. The driver was so bundled up against the cold that all that Lucy could see of him was the tip of his nose.

Lady Red stopped at the bottom of the carriage steps. “I have an idea. Why don’t you hop in with me? We could go to my house. Have cocoa and toast in front of the fire. I’ll still give you a coin too, of course.”

Lucy’s empty stomach rumbled at the thought of cocoa and toast. She and her parents hadn’t eaten a proper meal in days. But Lady Red had something Lucy wanted even more than food. The thought of what she was about to do made her tremble. It wasn’t in her nature to thieve, but Lucy was truly desperate.

“That would be lovely, thank you,” Lucy said. But she didn’t move.

“Wonderful. Hurry up now, it’s cold. You get in first.”

“I’ve never ridden in a carriage before. Do I just go up these steps?” Lucy asked, trying to sound bewildered.

“Why don’t I help you in?” Lady Red spoke very slowly, as though Lucy was three years old. “Take my hand.”

Lucy took the woman’s gloved hand in her own rough cold one. And just as she had hoped, Lucy saw a playing card poking out from the bottom of Lady Red’s sleeve. Lucy snatched it and pulled herself free. For a split second, Lucy’s eyes met Lady Red’s, which blazed suddenly like tiny twin suns.

Lucy turned and ran.

And ran.

And ran some more.

Lady Red tried to run after her. But she hadn’t been lying about her shoes being useless in the snow. She slipped and fell.

“Treeves, after her!” Lady Red yelled. This was followed by the creak of wheels and the crunch of ice as the carriage began to move. But Lucy knew the alleyways and backstreets to dart down, all of them so narrow the vehicle would never squeeze through, so it didn’t take her long to shake off her pursuer.

Lucy told no one about the card, not even her parents. It took her a lot of practice to work out how to use it. And even when she did, it was a long time before she plucked up the courage to gamble with it. But when she eventually did, her nightmare life of poverty, hunger and cold soon ended. Her parents quickly began to let her take charge of things, never questioning her about her newfound skill. Although Lucy earned enough to make the Goodlys’ lives comfortable and carefree, she wasn’t greedy or reckless. She made sure she lost a few games to avoid suspicion. And she never played opponents who were as poor as she once was.

Lucy was also careful never to visit dens where she’d seen Lady Red. She always feared the woman would find her somehow. But she never did, except in Lucy’s dreams, when she would open the door of Lucy’s bedroom, eyes burning in that unnatural way.

“Give it back. Give it back!” she’d shout.

For a while, Lucy couldn’t sleep for fear of Lady Red making an appearance. But as she was a sensible girl who always tried to find a solution to her problems, she soon trained herself to get out of bed in her dreams and slam the door in Lady Red’s face. Eventually the nightmares went away.

“Something wrong?” said Vonk.

Lucy blinked herself back into the present. “No. You’re right, it is a lovely painting. Lady Grave’s got a very kind face.”

“Yes. Lady Tabitha was one of the best. She loved animals, couldn’t bear to see them mistreated. She persuaded his Lordship to bring Bathsheba home. She rescued the elephants from a circus. And so on. Now, back to your work, girls.” Vonk turned and strode out of the room, the ring of his shoes on the tiled hallway gradually fading into the distance.

“You’ve gone a funny colour,” said Becky.

“Have I?”

“Urgh, have you got some revolting disease? Maybe it’s that nose-rotting one. I read all about it. Your nose goes mouldy and then drops off. Be an improvement in your case.”

CHAPTER FIVE

HIDING BEHIND A RHINOCEROS

Wearing a full suit of armour in the middle of summer really was no fun, but it was better than being eaten alive by a panther or squashed to death by an elephant. Lucy tried to comfort herself with this thought as she opened the gate set into the spiked iron fence that separated Grave Hall from his Lordship’s wildlife park. She was pushing a wheelbarrow of straw.

Lucy’s second day at Grave Hall was turning out to be even worse than her first. Lord Grave had ordered that one of her new duties was to feed Bathsheba and clean out the wooden hut the giant cat slept in at night.

Lucy closed the gate behind her. Bathsheba, who’d been snoozing in the afternoon sun, leaped to her paws when she spotted the bucket of raw meat that was hooked over one handle of the wheelbarrow.

“Keep back!” Lucy said. She slung the bucket’s contents on to the ground. Bathsheba pounced on it, growling her appreciation. For such an elegant animal, the panther had deplorable table manners. She chomped her meat so loudly she scared off some of Lord Grave’s parrots who were roosting in a nearby tree.

Lucy reluctantly set about cleaning the hut, which was almost as big as Leafy Ridge. She picked up gnawed bones from Bathsheba’s previous meals and changed the dirty straw for the fresh. The armour made her movements stiff and awkward. The white feather plume on the top of Lucy’s helmet bobbed up and down annoyingly and she grew hotter and hotter inside her metal second skin.

When she’d finally finished her work, and Bathsheba had torn and swallowed the last of the meat, Lucy returned to the Grave Hall side of the fence. She took off her helmet, put it on top of the smelly contents of her wheelbarrow and began toiling back to the house.

If she hadn’t been slowly cooking inside her armour, it might have been pleasant wandering along in the warm sun with the elephants trumpeting to each other in the distance. Homesickness washed over Lucy. On days like this at home, she and her parents would sit outside after supper and watch Phoebe chasing dragonflies.

Why did Lord Grave want to keep her here against her will? Was it just because it meant he had a boot girl he didn’t need to pay? Or could there be some other more sinister reason? It was all very worrying. The urge to run away was so strong it made her stomach hurt. She’d spent most of last night trying to think of a getaway plan. But Lucy’s usual resourcefulness seemed to have taken a holiday. Every solution she came up with had a fatal flaw, such as wild animals mauling her or the police dragging her off to prison for cheating at cards.

I’m trapped here.

The thought made her feel panicky and very alone. If only her parents were more reliable. Shouldn’t they be coming up with a plan to rescue her? But then again, even if they came up with one, it probably wouldn’t work.

A rumbling noise interrupted Lucy’s musings. She looked up. The sky was an innocent blue, with not a single cloud in sight.

The rumbling rumbled more loudly.

It seemed to be coming from the front of the house. Lucy abandoned her wheelbarrow and clattered round to the main entrance to see what was going on. When she got there, everything looked as it usually did – the stone pillars at either side of the huge front door with its gleaming lion’s head knocker looked solid and upright. The gravel drive was neat and weed-free.The bushes that lined it were expertly trimmed into the shape of Lord Grave’s favourite animals, all thanks to Vonk.

The rumbling rumbled some more.

Then a slash appeared a few feet above the drive. It was as though someone had painted a bright ragged line in mid-air.

Lucy flung herself behind a rhinoceros-shaped topiary. Of course, she soon discovered that flinging oneself while wearing armour is a not very sensible course of action. She ended up lying in a tangled metal heap behind the rhino. Once she’d struggled into a crouching position, Lucy could see that the slash hanging above the drive had widened. Now it was more of a hole than a slash. Lucy could feel the rumbling coming from it. Her armour rattled.

Then, as the rumbling reached a crescendo, four horses pulling a black carriage galloped out of the hole. Their manes and tails were soft and fluffy, more like thistledown than horsehair. And there was something odd growing out of their shoulders. Lucy gawped as she realised they were wings – elegant, transparent wings, which reflected tiny beads of colour where the sunlight touched them.

Lucy cowered further behind the rhinoceros, her metal-gloved hand over her mouth.

Water began trickling through the hole, spattering the gravel. The trickle became a gush, and the gush became a wave carrying a small sailing boat. The wave broke, landing the boat on the gravel. Seawater foamed over the drive and trickled towards Lucy before drying up as quickly as it had appeared. A gangplank shot out from the side of the boat and a man and a woman disembarked. Both had silvery hair and were dressed in navy blue. The silver-haired people strode over to the carriage and began speaking to whoever or whatever was inside.

Lucy began unfastening her armour as quietly as she could. Her fingers trembled and by the time she’d undone all the buckles, the strange people gathering on the drive had made their way inside the hall. Lucy sprinted out from behind the rhinoceros, round to the back of the house and into the kitchen. Becky Bone was there, sitting in Vonk’s chair at the head of the kitchen table and poring over the latest edition of the Penny Dreadful. Becky loved the Penny Dreadful, which was full of what Vonk described as a steaming pile of utter nonsense. Smell was curled up on Becky’s lap.

“Where’s Mrs Crawley?” asked Lucy, gasping for breath.

Becky didn’t look up from the Penny. “Gone down to the village on her penny-farthing. She’s getting her beard trimmed. That little sap Violet has gone with her.”

“I just saw the strangest thing. These people just arrived and—”

“What people?”

“They’ve gone inside now, but … well, come and see.”

“This better not be some stupid trick, Goodly. There’s another child gone missing, you know. Eddie Robinson, he’s called.” Becky held up the paper. It had the headline:

ANOTHER MISSING CHILD!

Below the headline was a drawing of a boy with untidy hair and a mole on his left cheek.

“The Penny thinks they’re all being eaten by flesh-eating zombies,” Becky said.

“Never mind that! Come on!”

Becky sighed loudly, but she put the Penny Dreadful down and gently moved Smell off her lap. He yawned and stretched before following the two girls out of the kitchen.

“What am I supposed to be looking at?” Becky said when the three of them reached the front of the house.

“Those horses! That boat!”

Becky folded her arms. “What are you talking about, boot girl? There’s nothing there. I wish some zombie would eat you, you pea brain.” She tutted and stomped off back to the kitchen and the Penny. Smell didn’t immediately follow her. He gazed up at Lucy, considering her with his unblinking orange eye, before trotting slowly off.

Lucy stared at the carriage and the boat. One of the winged horses neighed. Why was she seeing things Becky couldn’t? Perhaps her brain was fibbing to her due to lack of sleep and too much worry.

Lucy suddenly glimpsed movement in the corner of her eye. She turned and shrieked. A monster stood next to her. It had a pointed head with round bulging metal eyes. Lucy watched, horrified, as the monster grabbed its own head and began to pull it off … Under that head was another head.

Lucy made a strangled noise of relief.

“Oh dear. Did my helmet scare you? I cobbled it together myself, you know. It’s for checking the bees,” Vonk said. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to …” She gestured towards the horses and the carriage and the boat.

Vonk frowned. “Yes?”

Vonk couldn’t see them either!

“I … er … wanted some fresh air.”

Vonk smiled at her as if she’d just done something really very good. “I see. Well, it’s nearly suppertime. Mrs Crawley’s left us some cold cuts. Although I fear they may be accompanied by an experimental salad. Let’s go in.”

CHAPTER SIX

EVERLASTING SOUP AND CHICKEN-WITH-MORE-BODY-PARTS-THAN-MIGHT-BE-REASONABLY-EXPECTED

That night, Lucy tossed and turned in her squeaky iron bedstead.

When she finally fell asleep, it was nearly time to get up again and she overslept. Because she was so late, she skipped breakfast and went straight to the boot room, albeit reluctantly. She counted twenty-six pairs of shoes and boots for polishing. They couldn’t all be Lord Grave’s, because they were all different sizes and some were women’s shoes. Perhaps they belonged to the silver-haired woman she’d seen the night before. But if the woman was real, the rest of what she’d seen must be real too …

Lucy picked up a boot and began scraping the mud and dirt off it, all the time thinking about the bewildering events of the last two days.

Playing cards that came to life and changed places with each other.

A grumpy Lord,who threatened to have the Goodly family put in prison.

Flying carriages pulled by winged horses.

Boats sailing in mid-air.

Grave Hall was clearly a far from normal place. Although Lucy was partly intrigued by what she’d seen, she was also alarmed and wanted to escape back to her parents as soon as possible. “Get thinking, Goodly. Make a plan,” she muttered.

Six pairs of shoes in, when the only thing Lucy was in danger of developing was a shoe-polish-induced headache, Violet the scullery maid opened the boot-room door.

“I’ll help you if you like. Mrs Crawley said I could,” she said shyly.

“Thanks, Violet,” Lucy smiled.

Violet pulled up a stool and sat next to Lucy. Before she started work, the little girl took out Caruthers, whispered something to the woolly amphibian, then put him back in her apron pocket. Lucy bit back a smile. She didn’t want to be like Becky and laugh at Violet, but she really was a most peculiar little girl. Though her sweetness and warmth meant Lucy couldn’t help but like her.

For a time, the two girls cleaned in silence, the only noises coming from the rub of brush and cloth on leather.

“So these aren’t all Lord Grave’s shoes, are they?” Lucy eventually asked, in a casual sort of voice.

“Mrs Crawley told me some guests arrived yesterday. Lord Grave isn’t very happy though. He doesn’t like visitors.”

“I bet he doesn’t. He’s not a very nice man, is he?”

Violet stopped cleaning the green scaly boot she was working on. “Mrs Crawley says that he’s grumpy and sad because of Lady and little Lord Grave dying. She says he doesn’t mean anything by it.”

“Hmm. Violet, did you see the guests arrive last night?”

“I wasn’t here, I’d gone down to the village with Mrs Crawley and then I went home. Why?”

“Oh, nothing really. Just curious.”

Violet resumed her cleaning. “This leather is very odd. I think it smells a little bit of fish!”

Lucy and Violet were exhausted by the time they staggered into the kitchen, where Mrs Crawley was alone, eating an omelette. Smell was sitting on the table next to Mrs Crawley’s plate, eyeing up the food and licking his lips hopefully.

“I’m trying a new recipe. Banana and anchovy omelette topped with flaked sprout. Would you girls like some? You must be hungry after all those boots. Or bread and milk? Smell, get away now, you know eggs don’t agree with your digestion!”

“Bread and milk, please,” Lucy said.

“Me too!” Violet added quickly.

Lucy fetched them both some milk from the pitcher in the larder and cut thick slices of crusty bread before sitting down.

“There were so many boots,” Lucy kept her eyes on her food. “I think I saw one of the guests arrive yesterday, actually. In a very unusual carriage. The horses were … different from any I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh, that’ll be Lady Sybil. She breeds the horses herself. Swift as birds, they are.” Mrs Crawley beamed at Lucy, displaying a sprout flake stuck between her front teeth. Except for the sprout flake, it was the same sort of smile Vonk had given her last night. A well done you! type of smile.

Lucy ate the rest of her lunch in silence, pondering what could possibly be going on. She was swallowing the last crumb when Becky came into the kitchen, scowling as usual.

“When you’ve finished filling your cakehole, there’s work to be done. We need to brush the stair carpet.”

“Oh no,” said Mrs Crawley, snatching her empty plate out of reach of Smell’s tongue. “Change of plan. I need all hands on deck. His Lordship’s holding a formal dinner party tonight for his guests.”

“I’ll be needing my best uniform, if I’m waiting at table,” said Becky, straightening her cap and very nearly smiling.

“Lucy, you’ll be waiting at table too.” Mrs Crawley paused. “In fact, I think Becky can stay and help me and Violet in the kitchen. Lucy, you and Vonk can manage service between you.”

Becky’s face turned an interesting shade of purple. “Her? But she’s only the boot girl! Boot girls don’t—”

“Becky Bone!” Mrs Crawley drew herself up to her full six foot three and a quarter inches and looked quite menacing. “When you’re housekeeper-cum-cook then you can say who does what and when. Until then, I decide.”

Becky opened her mouth and then closed it again. But she gave Lucy a filthy glare.

Lord Grave’s dining room was the grandest room in the house. It looked even grander lit by the dozens of candles that sat in holders on the wooden-panelled walls and sparkled from the crystal chandelier that dangled above the long dining table.

All the food for Lord Grave’s guests was lined up on a sideboard that stood against the wall. It was Lucy’s job to help Vonk serve it up. The first course was a very curious soup. Not only was it a rather odd purple colour (despite the fact Vonk had told Mrs Crawley she couldn’t serve any experimental food this evening), but it appeared to be everlasting. Vonk was serving it from a silver tureen barely big enough to hold a single serving of soup. Lucy couldn’t understand how it could hold enough for everyone.

But each time Vonk dipped his ladle in, it came out full. He ladled the liquid into soup plates, which Lucy then carried to the table, trying her best not to spill any down the necks of the diners.

Vonk had told her who each of the four guests were. There was a sorrowful-looking man called Lord Percy. Sitting next to him was Lady Sibyl, the owner of the black carriage. She was a tall woman made even taller by her hair, which was piled high on her head and topped off with two very large peacock feathers. Lucy kept feeling as though the eyes in the feathers were watching her.

The other two guests were the people Lucy had seen disembarking from the boat yesterday. The woman’s name was Prudence Beguildy and the man’s Beguildy Beguildy, which made Lucy giggle. Perhaps his parents had been too lazy to think of a proper first name. They were twins. Prudence Beguildy’s hairstyle was very similar to Lady Sibyl’s, but decorated with a small model ship in full sail. Beguildy Beguildy wore a smart naval uniform. The jacket had gold braid and buttons and what looked like upside-down gilt hairbrushes on the shoulders.

When it was time to serve the main course, Vonk whipped the lid off a silver platter. Crouching underneath was a small roast chicken not much bigger than Smell.

“But that’ll never serve everyone,” Lucy whispered to Vonk. “Isn’t Mrs Crawley going to send up some more?”

Vonk didn’t reply. He just winked at Lucy and began sharpening his carving knife. And although the roast chicken seemed exactly as a roast chicken should, crispy-skinned and delicious-smelling with the usual number of body parts, Lucy lost count of the numbers of wings and legs and breasts she served up.

Once the guests had finished their main course, Vonk and Lucy began clearing the table in preparation for dessert. By then, Lord Grave and his guests seemed to have forgotten Lucy was there, and as she went to and fro from the dining room to the kitchen and back again, she caught snippets of their conversation, which grew increasingly tense.

“I know you’ve asked us not to speak of it, but I have to make my feelings plain. Ma’am needs you …” said Lord Percy as Lucy carried out the side plates.

“… you say that, Lord Grave, but what about your recent actions?” said Lady Sibyl as Lucy came back in to clear the dinner plates piled with bones from the chicken-with-more-body-parts-than-might-be-reasonably-expected. She had to be careful as Bathsheba, who had been asleep under the table, was now standing on her hind legs, trying to hook her claws round the leftovers.

“… take her because of Ma’am,” Lord Grave was saying rather huffily as Lucy returned with dessert plates. “I simply wish to ensure—” He stopped when he saw Lucy. She badly wanted to stay and hear more, but she had to go back to the kitchen as she’d forgotten the spoons. As she was coming back into the dining room with them, she heard Prudence Beguildy say, “… Ma’am must act now that we have Eddie Robinson …”

Lucy dropped all the dessert forks and spoons she was holding and they clattered to the floor. Prudence Beguildy instantly stopped speaking. Lord Grave glared at Lucy.

“Sorry, your Lordship,” Lucy said as she bent to pick up the cutlery, glad of an excuse to hide her shock.