London Shadows (#1 Penderry's Bizarre)

Chapter Five

Professor Penderry's house had once been a gleaming white building, surrounded by trees and flowers and set back from the street behind elegant wrought iron. But now it was a grey and neglected sight. The paint was peeling and creeping ivy had taken over. Even the garden was overgrown, resembling a Bengali jungle painting in a travel encyclopaedia.

Thankful the rain had stopped, Sophie stepped from the carriage and into an eddy of rustling leaves. From the peaked roof, a crow stared upon them and issued a loud squawk. George, who had never visited the house, stared up at the grimy windows.

"Great-Uncle Broom lives here? What a shack!"

Sophie hushed him. "Don't be rude. Uncle Broom is an extremely busy man, devoted to the pursuit of science."

Mr Westman was already at the door, holding a brown paper packet in one hand and pulling the bell cord with the other. "Jack, stay there. Blinks, ask around and find out if someone can fix Miss Penderry's gig."

"Aye, sir."

The front door swung open abruptly and the thin professor appeared in a stained lab coat. His frizzy, grey hair - attached to a pair of mutton-chops - was combed to the side and shot off at an odd angle as though the wind had blown it. His moustached upper lip twitched in surprise, and he peered at them through his spectacles with a beaming smile.

"Westman, I've been expecting you, dear boy, but not with my Sophie, by Jove. And young George too. What a treat! Come inside. Come, come."

Uncle Broom rushed off towards the great staircase and left the door gaping wide behind him. He was already half way up the curving stairs when he called down from over the handrail.

"Good of you to invite my niece and nephew along with you, Westman."

"I didn't have a choice," he replied, sounding rather displeased at her uncle's suggestion.

Uncle Broom blinked in confusion.

"Oh, we met Mr Westman on the road here," she explained. "George and I had an accident with the gig and Mr Westman stopped to help us."

"Oh, well done, Westman. He can't resist a damsel in distress, you know, my dear."

At her uncle's remark, she caught Mr Westman rolling his eyes.

George bounded between them, forcing the pair to stop at the foot of the staircase and make way. "Wait for me, Uncle Broom."

"George, manners," she reminded him. Mr Westman took off his hat and swept his hair neatly off his forehead. Sophie had to glance twice. "I say, that's a shocking knock on your head!"

He touched the gash. "Oh, this? It's nothing - a minor injury from a recent investigation, that's all."

"You poor man. Whatever happened?"

He raised his eyebrows and the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. "Do you really want to know?"

She had the sudden impression that she was better off not knowing, but she nodded all the same. "Why, yes, of course I do."

"The truth may shock you."

"Go on."

He leaned closer in a secretive way. "Last night I was attacked by a fire-breathing monster in Stepney Green. What do you make of that?"

She folded her arms and cocked an eyebrow. "I see."

Apparently, teasing people was a habit he enjoyed. First the tale about the sea monster in the Thames and now this silly story. Couldn't he be serious, especially when she was concerned about the injury?