Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 186

Chapter 186
So Long 



“Gamilla,” Robert said gently as he, Charles and Mr. Punch walked the rattled young woman through the vaulted passages of the lowest floor of Grange Molliner. “I think you should try to get some rest.”

“I need to return to Gerry.” Gamilla shook her head.

“You’ve been through a terrible ordeal.” Robert replied.

“And you been up all night.” Punch added.

“So have you, Your Grace. We all been up.”

“His Grace and I are about to send everyone to their beds.” Robert answered.

“But, Sir, all them guests’ll be up soon and wantin’ their breakfasts.”

“His Grace and I will make sure that the permanent staff here has their instructions. You needn’t worry about it.” Robert smiled. “Furthermore, the hired staff from the ball remains here and, I’m sure that they’d all welcome an extra morning’s wages.”

“But, what of young Master Colin?”

“I’ll stay with ‘im. I could use some time with me boy anyway.” Mr. Punch replied.

“Your Grace, you gotta be exhausted.” Gamilla sighed. “I…”

“Now, now,” Mr. Punch interrupted. “I ain’t nowhere near ‘xhausted. You know I don’t need so much sleep. But, the rest of ya, you do. I’ll stay in me room with Colin and Gerard and keep an eye on ‘em both. You ain’t gotta worry ‘bout a thing.”

“That woman is still out there.” Gamilla continued. “When she hears that Finlay’s done gone and killed himself, she’s gonna be out for blood, Sir.”

“Miss Lennie is with her.” Charles spoke up. “I’m sure she’ll give us plenty of warning as to what ‘Ellen’ intends to do next.”

“I don’t like none of it.” Gamilla muttered.

“I don’t neither, ‘Milla.” Mr. Punch answered soothingly. “But, ain’t no good in you getting’ sick and worn down. We all need ya. And, most of all, we want you to be well and strong for your own self.”

“Yes, Sir.” Gamilla nodded finally. “But, Sir, Mr. Speaight’s still gotta be sick from that poison Finlay have ‘im. Whose gonna organize the staff? And, with poor Mrs. North…gone…”

“I’ll do that.” Charles nodded. “As first footman, it falls upon me to take up in the place of the butler and housekeeper should need be. Georgie can assist me. His youth, in this instance, will prove invaluable.”

“It’s all so sad and terrible.” Gamilla pressed her hands together.

“You saw some terrible things these last few hours. For that, we’re truly sorry.” Mr. Punch said softly.

“In my life, Your Grace, I seen many awful things. For each one of ‘em, I seen somethin’ beautiful, too. So, I ain’t got no reason for to feel sorry for myself. I feel awful bad for all of you. For you gentlemen and for Mrs. Pepper and the others. Poor Georgie’s just a boy. He shouldn’t have had to…”

“But, that’s what life does to us,” Mr. Punch said. “Sure, in me own way, I’m but a babe. Just like Colin. I’m new to livin’ with humans, but I ain’t immune to their ways. I seen a lot from inside this body. And, in the times I was out, livin’ life for the Duke, before this last year, I got small tastes of both bitter and gloriously sweet things. We all gotta take both in their way. When ya got the bitter, ya hope for the sweet. I learned and so will young George Pepper. We all must learn each day. And, one thing I learned from me Chum here is that a body needs its rest to be at its most well. You gotta do that. Not just for you, but for us because we care ‘bout ya.”

“Now, go to your room, Gamilla and lock the door. Only open it for one of us. We’ll send Violet to your room and the two of you can stay together.” Robert spoke up.

“Thank you, Sir.” Gamilla inhaled. “Will ya tell Gerard…”

“If he’s awake, we’ll let him know you send your love.” Mr. Punch smiled.

Gamilla nodded.

“I’ll walk you to your room, Gamilla.” Charles volunteered.

“Thank you, Charles.” Gamilla sniffed. She looked up at Punch and Robert. “Sirs, I’m terrible sorry this ended so.”

“It was meant to be.” Robert shook his head. “We’re proud of you for what you tried to do.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t a’ done it.” Gamilla sighed.

“You only wanted what we all want,” Mr. Punch answered reassuringly.

“We will soon see an end to this ordeal.” Robert added. “And, we will return to our comfortable lives stronger than before.”

“I know we will.” Gamilla nodded.

“I know it seems that sometimes the bad never goes away.” Mr. Punch said. “Only we gotta remember that it really does. Sure, sometimes, it’s replaced with other horrors, but we gotta know that each bit o’ pain only lasts so long. We’re all lucky, we are. We got each other to help. This makes us all the more powerful.”

“Yes, Sir.” Gamilla replied.

“Come, then.” Charles said. “Let’s get you to your room.”

Punch and Robert watched Charles and Gamilla walk off toward the Servants’ Hall.

“Poor girl.” Punch shook his head.

“Her loyalty is to be admired.” Robert sighed, placing an arm around his companion’s shoulder. “Now, let’s get the others to their beds.”

“Right,” Punch nodded. He glanced over his shoulder once more to see Charles and Gamilla turn the corner in the passage.

Had he noticed the muddy footprints which had been tracked through the dim passage he would have stopped his friends then and there.



Did you miss Chapters 1-185 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 187.

Punch's Cousin, Chapter 186

Robert pressed his hands together as he studied Julian’s body. The man appeared to be sleeping, but Robert knew better. Julian’s lips moved and his fingers wiggled. Though no sound came from Julian’s throat, Robert knew that some sort of conversation was taking place, and he wondered what the subject of that conversation was. Robert smoothed Julian’s hair with his large palm and looked closely at his friend’s face. Julian’s expression was not one of the peacefulness of sleep, but one of immense concentration—the countenance of a soul in deep thought—or a trance.


Robert’s instinct was to awaken Julian to protect him from whatever vivid nightmare was plaguing him in that odd state of concentrated suspension. However, Robert knew that whatever was taking place between Julian and Mr. Punch—deep within their shared body—was of the utmost importance to their survival—all of their survival, but especially that of Julian and Mr. Punch.

Who would emerge from their tumultuous coma? Would Julian awaken and look at Robert with his wide, nervous eyes? Or would it be Mr. Punch with his air of wild excitement and sheer wonder? How would Mr. Punch survive their private, arduous journey? Would he survive? Robert thought of his dear Punch and realized how much he’d miss Julian’s other half if the erstwhile puppet didn’t reappear. How cruel it was, Robert thought. How cruel to have two men in one body, when only one should survive.

“Selfish though it is,” Robert whispered. “I want you both to return to me. I’ve gotten used to the way things are and I like them.”

He watched as Julian silently mouthed a series of words. Or was it Mr. Punch? Perhaps it was both of them speaking concurrently. Robert wished he could be in there with them—in their private, exclusive space. But, he knew he couldn’t be absorbed into them as much as he wished. Someone had to keep guard, no matter how painful it was.

At that very moment, deep inside of Julian’s body, Mr. Punch was protesting. He rose from the chair he occupied—the twin to the one in which Julian sat.

“Mr. Punch, please,” Julian said gently.

“I gotta stop this.” Mr. Punch moaned.

“No.” Julian smiled. “Let the panto continue.”

“I feel weak,” Punch said, looking to the phantom stage where the spectral “actors” had become frozen like some sort of strange projected painting fueled by light and energy.

“As do I.” Julian whispered, “but, together our weakness makes us strong. Do you see?”

Mr. Punch closed his eyes and shook his head. “I do.”

He sat down again, looking at the stage, he whispered, “Carry on.”

The figures before them sprung to “life,” and began to move again as if they were automata made of fire who had just been wound-up and activated.

The image of the Duchess—faceless, but still recognizable—began speaking again.

“I’ve grown weary of seeing this creature,” The duchess proclaimed to the figure of the Nanny. “Do take him away for awhile. I wish to have the Hall to myself while sir Colin is abroad.”

“I shall take him to London as instructed, Your Grace.” The nanny answered.

“It won’t do for you to travel alone,” The Duchess grinned.

“Shall I take one of the footmen?” The nanny asked.

Meanwhile, the tiny image of young Julian rose from where he’d crumpled to the ground. He stood shivering as far away from the two adults as possible while still remaining on the stage. He held his puppet close to his heart and hugged it as if by embracing it, he’d give it his own life.

“No.” The Duchess chortled. “I’ve hired a companion to look after you both. I’m sure you’ll find him most enjoyable. And, I’ve no doubt that he’ll mete out discipline on the boy as is needed.”

“What’s this man’s name?” The nanny asked.

“He has many names. You may call him, ‘the Professor.’” The Duchess answered. “You’ll find him most talented. And, I’m happy to say, quite skilled with a knife. You’re to do as he says without question.”

“As you wish, Your Grace.” The figure of the nanny said clearly.

“As for you,” The Duchess turned toward the child. “Be careful with yourself. Remember, naughty little boys are eaten alive.”

“Help me, Mr. Punch,” The image of young Julian said softly into the “neck” of his puppet. “Help me, please.”

“I’ll help you, Master,” The “real” Mr. Punch began to cry from the audience of two. “I’ll help you. Oh, please, don’t go with them!”

“It’s too late, dear Punch,” Julian whispered to his other half. “We’ve already gone.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-185? If so, you can read them here.