great tragedy.’ Gimlet gave Josie a sidelong glance and she snapped her attention back to the undertaker, flashing him a stage smile.
‘Really?’ Wiggins craned his neck further forward, peering harder at Gimlet and then Josie. ‘Most irregular. You come to an undertaker but don’t require a burying?’
‘I’m a friend of the Great Cardamom,’ Gimlet said. ‘This is Josie – he was her guardian.’
‘Ah,’ Mr Wiggins said, removing his glasses, polishing them on a sample of shroud and looking up blindly. ‘I see.’
‘I’m afraid I have some bad news,’ Gimlet began.
‘I already know about Edwin Chrimes,’ Wiggins said, putting his glasses back on. ‘News travels fast in this profession, sir. Saddening news, sir, saddening. We were childhood friends.’
‘So I believe. Josie knows about her brother . . .’ Gimlet began.
‘Quite so, yes.’ Wiggins gripped his lapels and clicked his heels. ‘I apprised young Alfie of the facts not long ago myself. Once I’d heard, of course. The truth would out, I suspected.’
‘Indeed. He did make one wish clear,’ Gimlet said quickly before Josie could interject on her guardian’s behalf. ‘That was, to be buried in Gorsefields Yard.’
The colour drained from Wiggins’s face. Josie thought he was going to rip his lapels off, his knuckles turned so white. ‘Gorsefie— Well, I . . .’
‘Is that a problem?’ Gimlet asked.
‘I – no . . . no. I don’t suppose so. Just not one of the best places. Erm . . . full. You wouldn’t consider Highgate Cemetery? It’s being extended . . . very respectable –’
‘No!’ Josie snapped, stepping forward and waving Cardamom’s note under Wiggins’s nose. ‘It was his last wish.’
‘Josie, why don’t you go and get acquainted with your brother while Mr Wiggins and I talk?’ Gimlet said, giving her a hard stare. ‘Where will she find him, sir?’ he asked, turning back to Wiggins.
‘Alfie? Why, he’s just gone in the back, sir. I do believe you were talking to him two minutes ago.’
‘Oh, joy,’ Josie said, giving Gimlet a hard stare. The toad boy was her brother. Her twin, even! He was meant to be the one who would understand how she felt. He was horrible. She paused at the curtain and took a deep breath before stepping through.
The room at the back of the shop matched the front for tidiness. Boxes stood in neat piles and blue, white and green bottles lined themselves up for inspection on the shelves. The smell of carbolic soap mixed with a sweeter, sickly smell that Josie couldn’t identify. She thought of Gimlet’s messy, chaotic studio. What would Mr Wiggins make of that? Here, four long wooden tables stood in the middle of the room. They were bare and well scrubbed, apart from one, which had something lying on it covered in a white sheet.
Alfie propped himself up against this table, resting his chin on his hands as he gazed at Josie. She could just about see him over the shrouded shape on the table.
‘So, you’re my brother,’ she said. She tried to hide the disappointment in her voice. How could she share the same beautiful gypsy queen of a mother with this street urchin in black?
‘So, you’re my sister. Wiggins told me about you today when he heard about that magic man dying,’ he said with a sneer. ‘Could’ve kept it to ’imself to be honest. Anyway, you don’t look like my sister.’
‘You don’t look like my brother,’ Josie retorted. ‘You’re too small for a start. You look about eight years old!’
‘D’you know what this is?’ Alfie’s wide mouth broke into a grin as he pointed to the shrouded object on the table. Josie shook her head. ‘It’s a dead body. D’you want to have a look?’
Josie shook her head again and took a step back towards the curtain.
‘Go on. Wiggins is always tellin’ me to have a look. Most folks just keep their dead at home until they’re buried.’ Alfie’s eyes seemed to glow as he fixed his gaze on Josie and
‘Really?’ Wiggins craned his neck further forward, peering harder at Gimlet and then Josie. ‘Most irregular. You come to an undertaker but don’t require a burying?’
‘I’m a friend of the Great Cardamom,’ Gimlet said. ‘This is Josie – he was her guardian.’
‘Ah,’ Mr Wiggins said, removing his glasses, polishing them on a sample of shroud and looking up blindly. ‘I see.’
‘I’m afraid I have some bad news,’ Gimlet began.
‘I already know about Edwin Chrimes,’ Wiggins said, putting his glasses back on. ‘News travels fast in this profession, sir. Saddening news, sir, saddening. We were childhood friends.’
‘So I believe. Josie knows about her brother . . .’ Gimlet began.
‘Quite so, yes.’ Wiggins gripped his lapels and clicked his heels. ‘I apprised young Alfie of the facts not long ago myself. Once I’d heard, of course. The truth would out, I suspected.’
‘Indeed. He did make one wish clear,’ Gimlet said quickly before Josie could interject on her guardian’s behalf. ‘That was, to be buried in Gorsefields Yard.’
The colour drained from Wiggins’s face. Josie thought he was going to rip his lapels off, his knuckles turned so white. ‘Gorsefie— Well, I . . .’
‘Is that a problem?’ Gimlet asked.
‘I – no . . . no. I don’t suppose so. Just not one of the best places. Erm . . . full. You wouldn’t consider Highgate Cemetery? It’s being extended . . . very respectable –’
‘No!’ Josie snapped, stepping forward and waving Cardamom’s note under Wiggins’s nose. ‘It was his last wish.’
‘Josie, why don’t you go and get acquainted with your brother while Mr Wiggins and I talk?’ Gimlet said, giving her a hard stare. ‘Where will she find him, sir?’ he asked, turning back to Wiggins.
‘Alfie? Why, he’s just gone in the back, sir. I do believe you were talking to him two minutes ago.’
‘Oh, joy,’ Josie said, giving Gimlet a hard stare. The toad boy was her brother. Her twin, even! He was meant to be the one who would understand how she felt. He was horrible. She paused at the curtain and took a deep breath before stepping through.
The room at the back of the shop matched the front for tidiness. Boxes stood in neat piles and blue, white and green bottles lined themselves up for inspection on the shelves. The smell of carbolic soap mixed with a sweeter, sickly smell that Josie couldn’t identify. She thought of Gimlet’s messy, chaotic studio. What would Mr Wiggins make of that? Here, four long wooden tables stood in the middle of the room. They were bare and well scrubbed, apart from one, which had something lying on it covered in a white sheet.
Alfie propped himself up against this table, resting his chin on his hands as he gazed at Josie. She could just about see him over the shrouded shape on the table.
‘So, you’re my brother,’ she said. She tried to hide the disappointment in her voice. How could she share the same beautiful gypsy queen of a mother with this street urchin in black?
‘So, you’re my sister. Wiggins told me about you today when he heard about that magic man dying,’ he said with a sneer. ‘Could’ve kept it to ’imself to be honest. Anyway, you don’t look like my sister.’
‘You don’t look like my brother,’ Josie retorted. ‘You’re too small for a start. You look about eight years old!’
‘D’you know what this is?’ Alfie’s wide mouth broke into a grin as he pointed to the shrouded object on the table. Josie shook her head. ‘It’s a dead body. D’you want to have a look?’
Josie shook her head again and took a step back towards the curtain.
‘Go on. Wiggins is always tellin’ me to have a look. Most folks just keep their dead at home until they’re buried.’ Alfie’s eyes seemed to glow as he fixed his gaze on Josie and
Similar Books
