The Doppelgänger of Dormond Street by Sue Harry

1. Miss Sara Kettlehorn

                
My life was perfect. From my position, at the top of the clock tower, I could see Mr Fomonkov pottering around in his garden with little Emily trying her very best to look grown up while helping him to plant this years herbs and spices. I could see the town train station standing as empty as it always had except for Jasper, the station guard, sweeping and getting ready to apply a fresh coat of paint to the benches and window sills.  Mr Gilmore and Mr Harington were having their usual argument on the porch of the schoolhouse and it was getting progressively louder due to the nature of the disagreement. No one batted an eyelid though or attempted to intervene as they were the best of friends and were prone to argue about the same thing over and over again - Mr Harrington revised the schools curriculum almost every day and as they were the only two teachers in a town that rarely sent their children to school, they both busied themselves with prospective lesson plans, suggested reading material and imaginary field trips that may, but most likely never will, take place. They would get to the school at dawn, work on each others last nerve throughout the morning, explode by lunchtime and shake hands at the end of the day.

Good entertainment was scarce here in The Seven so we welcomed it in whatever form it took. From my vantage point I could take it all in and as long as I remained quiet, Sally Mare, the old woman who lived in and maintained the clock-house, let me come here whenever I wanted to. Sally was one of the Matriarchs and was good friends with my family. Every so often, she would interrupt my people gazing and reverie by shuffling up the spiral steps to place a glass of sour wine and a cheese sandwich up on the landing behind me. We didn't talk much, she and I, on account that she wasn't much for conversation at the  best of times and I needed the quiet. I could see my house from here. It looked like a giant black museum and it was swarming with people  and activity. Each of the town Matriarchs had houses that looked similar but this was the largest and by far the busiest as many of them readied their children in the morning and congregated in our Great room or library or gardens. I am the last of seven children and had usually had my fill of company before breakfast was cleared from the table. Im not sure anyone ever noticed my absence and quite frankly, I was glad for that. Playing was not a priority for the children of The Seven. In fact, it was frowned upon, especially if you were a girl. We were to read, to procure, to plant and to sew. As my mother would always say, time was of the essence and we were to use our time to accumulate knowledge. Like most children here, I could read before I could walk, I was proficient in a  variety of instruments, I could solve complex mathematical problems without having to show my workings. I designed, patterned, cut, sewed and embroidered my own garments, petticoats and bodices although my cobbling skills left a little to be desired. No one was aware of this because Sally made the most ornate and beautiful boots and happily gifted me beautiful shoes and boots that were the envy of all of my sisters and many of the girls in town. My mother almost certainly knew that these masterpieces were not my handiwork but as long as I made time for my studies, she seemed happy to ignore the arrangement. I would come down for breakfast and, as I kissed fathers cheek, I would see my mother looking down at my shiny white leather, ruby encrusted heeled boot. She would smirk but remain silent as I took my place at the breakfast table and that would be the end of it. My mother chose her battles well and it seemed she had decided this was a battle for another day.

I heard a sound on the stairwell behind me and turned and saw Sally lugging a stool before her. I jumped up and almost fell over the hem of my dress before taking the stool from her and waiting for her to climb the rest of the way. She never came up here as she complained it was dusty and cold so it surprised me when she took the stool from me and placed it right next to mine. She gestured for me to sit and tried to make herself as comfortable as she could next to me. This was no easy task as her dress seemed to have at least ten layers made of the heaviest and most ornate black brocade. Her waist was tiny and pulled in by a bodice that housed a variety of gems, pearls, beads, ribbons and rings. Within the folds of her dress hung ancient looking knives, books and pendants, engraved bowls and spoons, dried flowers and many other items of importance. This was a true Matriarchs dress and it was this dress, and the others that she had that were like it, that set her apart from the other people in town. I felt nervous sitting next to Sally. Her long, thick hair looked like black wool and was tightly pulled up and away from her face in a chignon with lengths of black and gold chain and lace fixing it into position. Her face was the colour of deep mahogany, her lips as red as rubies and her eyes were as massive as I imagined the eyes of a frightened deer to be. The collar of her dress came right above her chin and up under her tiny ears, framing her oval shaped face beautifully but it all looked incredibly uncomfortable. The sheer size of her garment meant that I was far enough away to almost face her and she was formidable presence. Sitting with her reminded me of how I felt when I had spent time alone with my mother. It was a rarity. These women almost never spent time alone in a room with just one person, even their own children, so when it happened it was memorable.

To my knowledge, I was the only one who had ever had the honour of being alone with our mother. My father explained that my mother did everything for a reason and that I was to be very quiet. Every year on my birthday, I was led into my mothers study and we would sit across from each other in front of an open fire. She would watch me intently for a few miniutes and in those moments the air in the room would seem as though it was getting thicker and it was heavy enough to make my tiny shoulders ache with the weight. As uncomfortable as I felt in my most beautiful dress, I remained quiet and waited expectantly. Just as I began to feel as though the weight of the room would crush me, my mother would smile and pin some gem or broach or flower or scarf to my dress, wish me happy birthday, kiss me tenderly then send me on my way. I remember once that upon leaving the room, I walked three steps and fainted. I woke up in my room with a cold towel pressed to my head and father speaking to the town physician in a hushed, worried tone.

As I sat, waiting for Sally to speak, I wondered if that would happen again. She smiled at me and I felt that familiar, suffocating cloud begin to close in on me only, this time, the draft that flooded through the cracks in the windows that surrounded us was comforting. I was never more aware of how freezing the room was than at that moment because the chill seemed to steady me on my stool. "I see you understand why I came up here to speak with you. Can't have you passing out before I give you your gift". She chuckled and pulled a tiny box from a well hidden pocket in the front of her gown. She fingered the lettering on the box for a few moments and I held my breath. I didnt realise I was doing it until I heard Sally say in a soft, soothing tone, 'Take a breath, little one'. I was looking right at her. Her lips hadnt moved. I was almost sure of it but she continued in a sweet, steady voice (I watched her lips intently and this time they moved) 'Little one, dont be alarmed. There are many things you do not know. It would be unwise to respond to all of those things with fear. Be curious. Be questioning but never fearful. Alright?' I nodded and tried to pretend I was not petrified. 'Alright'. She reached out and waited until I put my hand in hers. I had never touched another Matriarch, other than my mother and as I held Sally's hand, I felt as though a current ran though me, that my hair would stand on end, that maybe my heart would fail as it burst out of my chest. I took deep breaths to steady myself and, seeming to notice this, she quickly dropped the tiny box into my hand then let go. The pounding in my ears ceased and the air in the room was lighter and almost normal. She laughed out loud at my expression. 'Well I'll be! Vivian was right. I've never seen anything quite like it. Marvelous.' As I looked down at the tiny golden box with a hoop on the top through which a piece of thick gold cord had been threaded, I studied the intricate lettering, and strange words I didnt understand, she continued chuckling and shaking her head while grabbing bunches of her gown in preparation to get up. I was very confused but not so much so that I would forget my manners . I stood to my feet and was about to give her my hand to assist her on the stairs and then I stopped. Noticing my wariness, she grabbed my hand before I could protest. 'Feel that, little Sarah?' I felt nothing but couldn't answer her. I could only gawk at her like a frightened animal. 'Nothing? Good. The dizzies and the swoons are for normal people but you're not normal Sara. Now, sow that box to your dress. There's a kit in the dresser over there. I'll bring you some tea.' As she struggled down the spiral steps I stood there, wondering what on earth had just happened.

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Read on to find out about The Gift, the Dragons, and the Doppelgängers.