Henry and the Guardians of the Lost

‘Will eggs do?’ Twig asked Henry.

‘Eggs will do very well,’ he said. He had eaten rather a lot of eggs recently, but one more wouldn’t hurt, he reasoned, and he was very hungry again. He glanced at the red-haired girl and sat on a chair some distance from her.

‘Ankaret, it would be nice if you could be polite for once,’ Herbert said, throwing a disapproving look in the girl’s direction.

She didn’t respond.

‘Perhaps she’s deaf,’ said Henry.

That did the trick. The girl looked up with a scowl. Her face was as pale as paper, her eyes were green and her nose and cheeks were covered in freckles. ‘I happen to be reading a very interesting book,’ she said, ‘and I haven’t got time for small-talk.’

Henry had never been one to give up easily. ‘My name’s Henry,’ he said. ‘I suppose yours is Ankaret. Unusual name, if you don’t mind me saying.’

No response.

From the corner of his eye Henry had been watching Twig. In a matter of seconds she had shinned up the ladder, brought down a frying pan and rolled two eggs from under a chicken sitting in an old armchair. Now she was standing on a stool and frying the eggs in a peppery-smelling oil.

The stove crackled, the eggs sizzled and the topaz sunlight made the copper pans gleam. Henry felt almost at home.

At the very end of the room, half-hidden by the vast dresser, a door suddenly opened and a boy poked his head in. ‘I smell eggs,’ he said. ‘Can I have one?’ He came into the room and stood beside the stove.

‘You’ve just had tea,’ said Herbert.

‘Have I?’ The boy jerked his thumb at Henry. ‘Who’s he?’

‘Why don’t you ask him?’ said Herbert.

‘I’m Henry,’ said Henry, before he could be asked.

‘I’m Markendaya, or Mark,’ the boy said solemnly. ‘I come from India.’ He was small and rather skinny. ‘Are you the new rover?’

‘I suppose so,’ said Henry, without knowing what it was.

‘You were expected yesterday.’ Mark came round to Henry’s side of the table and sat next to him. ‘Did you get lost?’

‘I was hi-jacked,’ Henry stated.

Mark emitted a knowledgeable grunt. ‘That happened to someone else.’

‘What about you?’ asked Henry. ‘What did you –?’

‘Don’t!’ Mark stood up and made for the door. ‘Don’t ask me,’ he mumbled.’ I don’t want to talk about it.’ And then he was gone.

Herbert sighed and Twig tut-tutted.

Ankaret didn’t even raise her head.

After a moment Henry asked, ‘Did I say something wrong?’

‘He doesn’t like to talk about his first life.’ Twig walked sedately across the table, carrying Henry’s plate of eggs. She set the plate before him and provided him with a knife and fork. Henry assumed it must be OK to walk on tables in this particular house. He wondered what Pearl would have said. At least Twig’s slippers looked reasonably clean.

There was a sudden loud shout from somewhere in the house. This was followed by several thumps on the staircase. The hanging pots and pans shivered and tinkled, but no one paid any attention.

Glancing nervously at the swinging pans above him, Henry thanked Twig for the eggs.

‘You’re welcome.’ Twig dipped her head. Then she screamed.

It was such a shrill, heart-stopping sound, Henry dropped his knife and fork. Ankaret raised her head at last, and put her hands over her ears.

Twig was staring at something behind Henry and, looking round, he saw that Enkidu had appeared in the doorway.

‘Cat! Cat!’ shrieked Twig, pointing a trembling finger at Enkidu.

‘Oh dear, I thought this might happen,’ said Herbert. ‘Twig, dear, stop screaming and we’ll do something about it.’

‘He’s never hurt a soul,’ said Henry. ‘Never.’

Unconvinced, Twig retreated across the table, her eyes never leaving the big black and white cat. ‘Out! Out! Out!’ she screamed.

Enkidu seemed to consider this an invitation. He ran in and jumped on Henry’s lap.

‘GET IT OUT!’ The voice behind Henry made him almost jump out of his chair. He turned to see a very tall man with a wiry black beard, and a navy-blue beret pulled over his curly black hair. He looked very like the man who had been standing outside Henry’s window the night before.

‘Cats are not allowed!’ boomed the man, not bothering to introduce himself.

Henry decided to show the man some manners. He stood up, placing Enkidu on his chair. ‘How do you do? I’m Henry,’ he said pleasantly.

‘I know who you are,’ the man said irritably. ‘Get that cat out of our house, out of our sight. Take it now, and make sure it never comes back.’

‘I can’t do that, sir,’ Henry said firmly. ‘Enkidu and I come together. If it wasn’t for him, I might not be here at all.’

‘Aargh!’ growled the man. ‘Didn’t I make myself clear? Cats are taboo. They upset people. Take it OUT!’

‘If my cat goes, then I go too,’ said Henry, without even considering where he might go.

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