Chapter 250
Wake
Mr. Punch bolted upright, his face drenched in sweat and his nightshirt clinging to his back. “Naasir,” he muttered as he shook his head. Punch was relieved that his sudden awakening had not disturbed Robert who snored softly at his side. Even Dog Toby remained asleep at the foot of the bed.
“Little pup,” Punch reached out and stroked the dog’s fur. “All tired out, you are. All them people comin’ in and out of your house, cryin’ and sad. You wanted to help them all, didn’t ya?”
Climbing slowly out of the bed so as not to bother Robert and Dog Toby, Punch walked softly to the wardrobe for his dressing gown and slipped it over his wet nightshirt, shivering slightly. With his leather slippers on his feet, he crept from the room and climbed the stairs to the floor above.
The door to the nursery opened without a squeak and Mr. Punch slipped inside. Peering down at Colin, Punch nodded, content to see the baby asleep and smiling. He wanted to pick up the child and cuddle him, but thought better of it. Gamilla had always told him that it was best to let a sleeping baby stay asleep. Or...was that dogs? Or both? Regardless, Punch knew that given the horrors of the day, it was best to let everyone enjoy some respite, no matter how brief.
As quietly as he’d entered the nursery, Mr. Punch left the room. He slowly made his way down the stairs and as he did he looked up to the play of the moonlight through the dome as it danced across the prisms of the chandeliers.
He sighed. One of the few things that Ethel had said during Jenny’s wake—after the scullery maid had been dressed and essentially carried into the drawing room—was something about “the Man in the Moon.” What had she meant? The girl fell silent just after—and remained so until she was brought back to Lennie’s room.
Punch followed the curve of the banisters, tracing the cool brass-inlaid wood with his fingers. As he passed Lennie’s door, he paused and strained to listen. He could hear Lennie speaking softly to Ethel. Only Lennie’s voice could be heard.
Punch pressed his lips together. His sister would have no sleep that night either.
Down another flight, Punch stopped on the reception floor and walked with dignified purpose to the tall gilt mahogany doors of the drawing room. Pressing gently on the bronze handles, he opened the doors, startled, at first by the faint creak which rose mournfully from the hinges.
The grand room smelled of candles and flowers, and another scent—like soap or cleanser—which Punch could not identify. Punch stood in the doorway and looked around. All of the chairs which the undertaker had brought that evening were still lined up in neat rows facing Jenny’s coffin. The large gilt pier mirror which stood between the rooms pedimented windows had been draped with black silk. Punch wondered why, but Mrs. Pepper had insisted upon it, and Lennie said that they’d best do it.
All of the room’s usual furnishings had been pushed back against the walls. With only those rented chairs in the center of the massive room, it looked cavernous and imposing—not at all like the glittering, inviting space that Punch always enjoyed so.
And, there was Jenny…
Her hands were crossed over her breast and someone had tucked a white rose between them. She wore her Sunday dress and Violet had arranged the girl’s hair attractively. She looked pale and pretty and Punch wished that Jenny could have had more chances to wear her one, good dress.
She seemed to be sleeping, really. And, Mr. Punch couldn’t help but feel as though he might disturb her if he entered further into the room. However, unlike Colin and Robert and Dog Toby, Jenny was not going to wake.
Punch quietly went into the room and sat in one of the uncomfortable chairs in the first row—first moving the prayer book which the undertaker had so carefully set on each seat.
“Hullo, Jenny.” Punch whispered. “Lots of folk came tonight to sit with ya. Your ma and pa and your brothers and sisters. Your aunties and cousins. They was all sad. We was all here, too. Me and Robert and Lennie and all the folks from downstairs and Lady Lensdown, too. Mrs. Pepper cried an awful lot. Folk sent flowers. Lots of flowers. The room’s full o’ flowers. I know how you liked them. Tomorrow, we’re gonna take ya to St. Peter’s Church---you know the church with the tall steeple? The one on Eaton Square? That’s where you went with Mr. Speaight and the others on Sunday. Then, you’re gonna go somewhere real pretty and green with trees and all. You’ve passed it a hundred times…Highgate. It’s nice for what it is.”
Punch wiped his nose on his sleeve. “Hope ya don’t mind me talkin’ at ya. I woke up. Seems a silly thing to say to ya, I know. But, I did. Had a dream, I did. See, in my dream Naasir came to me. You didn’t know him. He were my valet before Charles. Naasir was my friend. He helped me and protected me. We met on the ship when I was goin’ to America. Same time I met Robert…Dr. Halifax…officially. Naasir was from Africa, like Gamilla and he knew all sorts of things what other folks don’t know. He’s come up in me dreams before. And, when he does, it’s usually cuz somethin’…well, cuz he’s tryin’ to tell me somethin’. He died. Terrible. It were terrible how he died. He were young. Not as young as you, but too young to…well. See, he knew it though, and he knew it were gonna happen, and he accepted it. Said he would die so I didn’t have to. I never understood.”
He shook his head. “Listen to me goin’ on.”
Mr. Punch sat in silence for a time, and, then, he couldn’t help but speak some more.
“Jenny, Naasir said in my dream that there’s a monster what’s near us. But, he said it weren’t a ‘she.’ It scared me. I can’t think what… How many more monsters could there be? I…don’t know.” He sighed. “But, that’s not for you to worry ‘bout. You just…”
He wiped his nose again.
“We know who done this to ya. We know it were Orpha Polk. Poor Ethel, she can’t say what happened, but she don’t even have to. In the end, we know who done this. My goodness, the horrors that woman’s brought. We’re gonna stop her.”
Punch looked up. “I wonder if you can see me. Lennie said that you’re in Heaven. Mrs. Pepper said so, too. And, that Heaven is above us though I can’t rightly see how. Either way, I hope you’re there cuz that’s where folks should go, I’m told. If you can see me, you know that I asked Mr. Donnan and that other, strange fella to help us stop Orpha. But, I don’t want you to misunderstand us. We ain’t gonna do her no harm. Robert and me…we know that ain’t the way. Ya can’t fight hurt with more hurt. Mr. Donnan knows what to do. He’s done it many a time before…even to our Vi. But, you know that.”
He stood and walked to the coffin, peering down at Jenny just as he had peered into Collin’s crib.
“I hate that you’re dead, Jenny. You was a good girl and I shoulda protected you better. Robert says it ain’t me fault, but I can’t help but feel like it is. Speaight and Mrs. Pepper and Lennie, they say you’re in a better place now and I hope, truly, truly, that you are. Don’t be hurt when we gotta get a new kitchen maid. Even if we like her, we won’t like her more than we liked you.”
Punch took a deep breath and took a step back. He stopped and looked again at Jenny. “Oh, if you are in Heaven, maybe you could send an angel or somethin’ to help poor Ethel. I don’t know how it all works. Julian…that’s the Duke, you know, or me, to be…well, I think you know…he never cared much for religion, so I never learned none of it. I just hope you’re at peace. Cuz…cuz you was real nice.”
With that, Punch walked from the drawing room, closing the doors gently behind him. He looked up again through the gentle spiral of the stairs and saw the moon. “Ain’t no man there.” Punch shrugged. “Ain’t nothin’ but a big rock.”
Did you miss Chapters 1-249 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 251.
Mr. Punch bolted upright, his face drenched in sweat and his nightshirt clinging to his back. “Naasir,” he muttered as he shook his head. Punch was relieved that his sudden awakening had not disturbed Robert who snored softly at his side. Even Dog Toby remained asleep at the foot of the bed.
“Little pup,” Punch reached out and stroked the dog’s fur. “All tired out, you are. All them people comin’ in and out of your house, cryin’ and sad. You wanted to help them all, didn’t ya?”
Climbing slowly out of the bed so as not to bother Robert and Dog Toby, Punch walked softly to the wardrobe for his dressing gown and slipped it over his wet nightshirt, shivering slightly. With his leather slippers on his feet, he crept from the room and climbed the stairs to the floor above.
The door to the nursery opened without a squeak and Mr. Punch slipped inside. Peering down at Colin, Punch nodded, content to see the baby asleep and smiling. He wanted to pick up the child and cuddle him, but thought better of it. Gamilla had always told him that it was best to let a sleeping baby stay asleep. Or...was that dogs? Or both? Regardless, Punch knew that given the horrors of the day, it was best to let everyone enjoy some respite, no matter how brief.
As quietly as he’d entered the nursery, Mr. Punch left the room. He slowly made his way down the stairs and as he did he looked up to the play of the moonlight through the dome as it danced across the prisms of the chandeliers.
He sighed. One of the few things that Ethel had said during Jenny’s wake—after the scullery maid had been dressed and essentially carried into the drawing room—was something about “the Man in the Moon.” What had she meant? The girl fell silent just after—and remained so until she was brought back to Lennie’s room.
Punch followed the curve of the banisters, tracing the cool brass-inlaid wood with his fingers. As he passed Lennie’s door, he paused and strained to listen. He could hear Lennie speaking softly to Ethel. Only Lennie’s voice could be heard.
Punch pressed his lips together. His sister would have no sleep that night either.
Down another flight, Punch stopped on the reception floor and walked with dignified purpose to the tall gilt mahogany doors of the drawing room. Pressing gently on the bronze handles, he opened the doors, startled, at first by the faint creak which rose mournfully from the hinges.
The grand room smelled of candles and flowers, and another scent—like soap or cleanser—which Punch could not identify. Punch stood in the doorway and looked around. All of the chairs which the undertaker had brought that evening were still lined up in neat rows facing Jenny’s coffin. The large gilt pier mirror which stood between the rooms pedimented windows had been draped with black silk. Punch wondered why, but Mrs. Pepper had insisted upon it, and Lennie said that they’d best do it.
All of the room’s usual furnishings had been pushed back against the walls. With only those rented chairs in the center of the massive room, it looked cavernous and imposing—not at all like the glittering, inviting space that Punch always enjoyed so.
And, there was Jenny…
Her hands were crossed over her breast and someone had tucked a white rose between them. She wore her Sunday dress and Violet had arranged the girl’s hair attractively. She looked pale and pretty and Punch wished that Jenny could have had more chances to wear her one, good dress.
She seemed to be sleeping, really. And, Mr. Punch couldn’t help but feel as though he might disturb her if he entered further into the room. However, unlike Colin and Robert and Dog Toby, Jenny was not going to wake.
Punch quietly went into the room and sat in one of the uncomfortable chairs in the first row—first moving the prayer book which the undertaker had so carefully set on each seat.
“Hullo, Jenny.” Punch whispered. “Lots of folk came tonight to sit with ya. Your ma and pa and your brothers and sisters. Your aunties and cousins. They was all sad. We was all here, too. Me and Robert and Lennie and all the folks from downstairs and Lady Lensdown, too. Mrs. Pepper cried an awful lot. Folk sent flowers. Lots of flowers. The room’s full o’ flowers. I know how you liked them. Tomorrow, we’re gonna take ya to St. Peter’s Church---you know the church with the tall steeple? The one on Eaton Square? That’s where you went with Mr. Speaight and the others on Sunday. Then, you’re gonna go somewhere real pretty and green with trees and all. You’ve passed it a hundred times…Highgate. It’s nice for what it is.”
Punch wiped his nose on his sleeve. “Hope ya don’t mind me talkin’ at ya. I woke up. Seems a silly thing to say to ya, I know. But, I did. Had a dream, I did. See, in my dream Naasir came to me. You didn’t know him. He were my valet before Charles. Naasir was my friend. He helped me and protected me. We met on the ship when I was goin’ to America. Same time I met Robert…Dr. Halifax…officially. Naasir was from Africa, like Gamilla and he knew all sorts of things what other folks don’t know. He’s come up in me dreams before. And, when he does, it’s usually cuz somethin’…well, cuz he’s tryin’ to tell me somethin’. He died. Terrible. It were terrible how he died. He were young. Not as young as you, but too young to…well. See, he knew it though, and he knew it were gonna happen, and he accepted it. Said he would die so I didn’t have to. I never understood.”
He shook his head. “Listen to me goin’ on.”
Mr. Punch sat in silence for a time, and, then, he couldn’t help but speak some more.
“Jenny, Naasir said in my dream that there’s a monster what’s near us. But, he said it weren’t a ‘she.’ It scared me. I can’t think what… How many more monsters could there be? I…don’t know.” He sighed. “But, that’s not for you to worry ‘bout. You just…”
He wiped his nose again.
“We know who done this to ya. We know it were Orpha Polk. Poor Ethel, she can’t say what happened, but she don’t even have to. In the end, we know who done this. My goodness, the horrors that woman’s brought. We’re gonna stop her.”
Punch looked up. “I wonder if you can see me. Lennie said that you’re in Heaven. Mrs. Pepper said so, too. And, that Heaven is above us though I can’t rightly see how. Either way, I hope you’re there cuz that’s where folks should go, I’m told. If you can see me, you know that I asked Mr. Donnan and that other, strange fella to help us stop Orpha. But, I don’t want you to misunderstand us. We ain’t gonna do her no harm. Robert and me…we know that ain’t the way. Ya can’t fight hurt with more hurt. Mr. Donnan knows what to do. He’s done it many a time before…even to our Vi. But, you know that.”
He stood and walked to the coffin, peering down at Jenny just as he had peered into Collin’s crib.
“I hate that you’re dead, Jenny. You was a good girl and I shoulda protected you better. Robert says it ain’t me fault, but I can’t help but feel like it is. Speaight and Mrs. Pepper and Lennie, they say you’re in a better place now and I hope, truly, truly, that you are. Don’t be hurt when we gotta get a new kitchen maid. Even if we like her, we won’t like her more than we liked you.”
Punch took a deep breath and took a step back. He stopped and looked again at Jenny. “Oh, if you are in Heaven, maybe you could send an angel or somethin’ to help poor Ethel. I don’t know how it all works. Julian…that’s the Duke, you know, or me, to be…well, I think you know…he never cared much for religion, so I never learned none of it. I just hope you’re at peace. Cuz…cuz you was real nice.”
With that, Punch walked from the drawing room, closing the doors gently behind him. He looked up again through the gentle spiral of the stairs and saw the moon. “Ain’t no man there.” Punch shrugged. “Ain’t nothin’ but a big rock.”
Did you miss Chapters 1-249 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 251.
4 comments:
This and all the chapters dealing with Jenny 's death have been very touching .
Your vivid dialogue really brings the spirit of all your characters to life. All the inhabitants at 65 Belgrave Square truly come across as a family .
Thanks, Darcy. I've wanted to give each of them a chance to show how Jenny's death has touched them. With Mrs. North's murder, there was so much going on, they didn't have a chance to mourn, making this experience all the more difficult for everyone.
These have been great, moving chapters.
Thank you, Carolyn.
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