required,” he said, flexing thefingers of a gloved hand. “This … experiment has run its course. Teaching is not for me. I imagine this does not come as a shock to you?”
Lucien said nothing.
“You will be sent your portion of last night’s takings, of course.”
“I don’t want it,” Lucien said. “Last night’s performance was for Birdie.”
Sharpe gave a single nod. “Very well.”
He turned and began the walk back down the hill.
Lucien gazed after him. “I can’t help that I’m better than you,” he said. “I only ever did what you asked, and I was good at my job. You turned it into a competition, not me.”
He had uttered the words in barely more than a whisper. But in the silence of a graveyard, even soft-spoken words can become immensely powerful things.
Sharpe stopped. He did not turn around.
“You are not better than me,” he said. There was an edge to his voice, dark and dangerous. “You will never be better than me. I rescued you from the gutter, and that is where I expect you to return now that you don’t have my coat-tails to ride upon, or a foolish old woman like Birdie to protect you.”
Lucien glared. “Must be strange for you, being in a graveyard, hmm? Considering you don’t ever intend to die. I’ve always been too afraid to ask why you never get any older. But I think I might be piecing together the answer. You steal time from other people, don’t you? You make their lives shorter so that you can extend your own. How can you live with yourself?”
A long silence.
At last, his back still turned, Sharpe said, “Goodbye, Mr Silver. Good luck.”
Lucien watched his former employer wind down the pathtowards the comfort of his carriage. When the slick black horses had pulled Sharpe through the iron gates, it occurred to Lucien that a very long and interesting chapter of his life had come to an end.
He turned his attention once more to the fresh grave at his feet.
Reaching into his coat, he produced a single long-stemmed red rose. With the wave of a hand, the stem of the rose became black as coal, and the petals were coated in shining gold.
Lucien placed the black-gold rose on the headstone.
“Goodbye, Birdie.”
Rain washed the tears from his face as he trudged down the hill towards the gates and the world beyond. And the world was a big, big place. Lucien did not know where to go, or what to do next. His fingers touched the book in his coat pocket, its pages full of dreams, imaginings and possibilities, and somehow he did not feel quite so lost.
Without knowing why, he began to smile.
Then, with a final glance to the top of the hill, Lucien Silver walked through the cemetery gates and away.
CHAPTER 19
MISSING
Mr Silver vanished the day after Ellie’s birthday ball. It was a Sunday, and the sky was heavy with black clouds and thunder.
“Papa has never missed opening time before.” Ellie stood at the window, tapping her foot on the floor. “Something’s wrong.”
Daniel had to agree. In the few months he had been a part of Mr Silver’s world, he’d never once seen his boss open the shop so much as a second late.
“I wonder if he…” Daniel’s voice trailed away. Something lay on the floor under Mr Silver’s desk. He picked it up and fanned through its many pages.
The
Book of Wonders.
“Ellie, have you ever known your papa to leave this lying around?”
Ellie edged towards him. She reached out trembling fingers and touched the book.
“It looks like it’s been … it’s been burned or something.”
She was right. The ends of some of the pages were blackened, and Daniel found a cluster of shrivelled pages where Wonders had been scorched away. As they examined the book, a loose scrap of paper fell out. Ellie grabbed it.
“It’s part of a note! From Papa!”
“What?” said Daniel. “What’s it say? Let me see.” He cranedover her shoulder, and read:
Dearest Ellie (and Daniel Holmes),
I am sorry that I could not be there to give
Lucien said nothing.
“You will be sent your portion of last night’s takings, of course.”
“I don’t want it,” Lucien said. “Last night’s performance was for Birdie.”
Sharpe gave a single nod. “Very well.”
He turned and began the walk back down the hill.
Lucien gazed after him. “I can’t help that I’m better than you,” he said. “I only ever did what you asked, and I was good at my job. You turned it into a competition, not me.”
He had uttered the words in barely more than a whisper. But in the silence of a graveyard, even soft-spoken words can become immensely powerful things.
Sharpe stopped. He did not turn around.
“You are not better than me,” he said. There was an edge to his voice, dark and dangerous. “You will never be better than me. I rescued you from the gutter, and that is where I expect you to return now that you don’t have my coat-tails to ride upon, or a foolish old woman like Birdie to protect you.”
Lucien glared. “Must be strange for you, being in a graveyard, hmm? Considering you don’t ever intend to die. I’ve always been too afraid to ask why you never get any older. But I think I might be piecing together the answer. You steal time from other people, don’t you? You make their lives shorter so that you can extend your own. How can you live with yourself?”
A long silence.
At last, his back still turned, Sharpe said, “Goodbye, Mr Silver. Good luck.”
Lucien watched his former employer wind down the pathtowards the comfort of his carriage. When the slick black horses had pulled Sharpe through the iron gates, it occurred to Lucien that a very long and interesting chapter of his life had come to an end.
He turned his attention once more to the fresh grave at his feet.
Reaching into his coat, he produced a single long-stemmed red rose. With the wave of a hand, the stem of the rose became black as coal, and the petals were coated in shining gold.
Lucien placed the black-gold rose on the headstone.
“Goodbye, Birdie.”
Rain washed the tears from his face as he trudged down the hill towards the gates and the world beyond. And the world was a big, big place. Lucien did not know where to go, or what to do next. His fingers touched the book in his coat pocket, its pages full of dreams, imaginings and possibilities, and somehow he did not feel quite so lost.
Without knowing why, he began to smile.
Then, with a final glance to the top of the hill, Lucien Silver walked through the cemetery gates and away.
CHAPTER 19
MISSING
Mr Silver vanished the day after Ellie’s birthday ball. It was a Sunday, and the sky was heavy with black clouds and thunder.
“Papa has never missed opening time before.” Ellie stood at the window, tapping her foot on the floor. “Something’s wrong.”
Daniel had to agree. In the few months he had been a part of Mr Silver’s world, he’d never once seen his boss open the shop so much as a second late.
“I wonder if he…” Daniel’s voice trailed away. Something lay on the floor under Mr Silver’s desk. He picked it up and fanned through its many pages.
The
Book of Wonders.
“Ellie, have you ever known your papa to leave this lying around?”
Ellie edged towards him. She reached out trembling fingers and touched the book.
“It looks like it’s been … it’s been burned or something.”
She was right. The ends of some of the pages were blackened, and Daniel found a cluster of shrivelled pages where Wonders had been scorched away. As they examined the book, a loose scrap of paper fell out. Ellie grabbed it.
“It’s part of a note! From Papa!”
“What?” said Daniel. “What’s it say? Let me see.” He cranedover her shoulder, and read:
Dearest Ellie (and Daniel Holmes),
I am sorry that I could not be there to give
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