The Faintest Ink (Watty Winner 2015)

Chapter Fifty-Two

There weren't many places to hide in this jumbled Dakley home. Every corner, cupboard and stairwell had been put to use, storing everything from old canvases to chipped chamber pots.

But no one knows a house as well as the youngest members of the household. They know what the desk looks like from the underside, which floorboards squeak, and where they need to cling close to the skirting board on night time raids of the kitchen cupboards.

And Blossom, though she had been named in the sight of the fifth god, was not so far gone that she did not still remember all the nooks and crannies which she had discovered as a little girl.

She knew well the small crack in the lintel post which might house a secret note, and the loose brick in the back wall where sweet treats may be kept out of sight of younger brothers. She also knew that if she were to drag a small stool into the inglenook, stand upon it and reach far above her into the darkness of the chimney, she could find a small ledge on which to perch. That was, if the fire had not been lit, which as this hot summer dragged on and on, had been the case for many months.

From the pocket of her apron, she brought out a small stub of candle. It was all that was left from the families dinner with their Lord Patron. She much preferred candles to fairy light. It was such a pity that her mother must be such a bore about money, and only would ever buy them in when there was a guest who needed impressing.

No doubt Lord Patron's house was filled with candles. She could imagine every room blazing with warm light. And none of those dreary trapped little creatures in glass jars. Fairy light always made her feel sad, and she couldn't work when she was feeling sad.

The thought of Caul's white face flashed in front of her, his eyes shut and his hair matted with blood, but she ignored it, pushing it away for the much pleasanter visage of her Lord Patron.

From her pocket also came a sheet of pristine paper. She'd stolen it from Papa's studio. It was the stuff he used sketch commissions on when he could get them. All those fat little children and overfed animals owned by rich old ladies on Mease Street.

Next came a brush. She tucked that behind her ear so that it was out of the way for now.

She hadn't taken any charcoal or inks. There was no need for that. Lord Patron had explained what she had to do. She'd been quite amazed at what he'd said, but the more he talked, the more she realised what a beautiful thing he had asked of her. To give herself over fully to her art, and in a commission for him. It was all too wonderful.

The small stoppered bottle he had provided did not suffer the indignity of being stuffed in her pocket. Instead, she removed it from her bodice, where she had kept it nestled next to her heart. The glass was warm from being pressed against her skin, and as the liquid sloshed about inside, she could almost imagine it being a living thing.

"Blossom!"

Blossom started, almost dropping the precious bottle into the fire pit beneath her feet.

"We could really do with some help, darling," called her mother front the hallway. Blossom held herself still, hoping that her mother would move on, but no such luck. She heard the door open, and her mother's light footsteps entering the room. "Are you in here?"

With the utmost care, so as not to send a waterfall of soot splashing into the fire pit, Blossom lifted her feet, and rested them on the sill beside her. In the small square of floorboards that made up her sole view of the front room, she could see her mother's skirts brushing past, followed by a sigh. Then footsteps.

Blossom breathed out in relief. She had escaped.

Ever since her Lord Patron had left, Mama had been running about the house like a wild woman. First lifting in some strange girl from the crowd, who was now residing in their attic, and now pounding on every window in the building, nailing planks of wood to them and piling up pieces of furniture in front of the door. It was like living in an asylum. And a very noisy one at that.