A Recipe for Punch, Chapter 58

Chapter 58

Reception

Lennie could no longer contain her agitation.  

"Whoever you are," she spat, "I'd appreciate it greatly if you'd show yourself."

She planted herself firmly in the middle of a soaring marble-floored room.  The walls were guarded by rows of gilt-framed mirrors set between gessoed pilasters above which a frescoed barrel-arch dripped with rock-crystal chandeliers.  Even though the candles were unlit, the chandeliers glittered softly in the misty light which filtered through the slits in the heavy drapes which masked the long windows at the farthest end of the long room--some sort of reception hall or ballroom which Punch had yet to show her.

"Fine--"  Lennie snapped.  "You've led me here and you've annoyed me.  Now, what is it exactly that you wish to prove?"

"Ellen..."  The hissing voice repeated.

Lennie inhaled.

"I haven't time for games, Miss Blessum."  She intoned, waiting for a response.  "Don't you think I realize it's you wishing to taunt me.  We know of the bizarre secret that you and Jackson share.  Just what did you intend to do with our mother's remains?"

She waited.

"Show yourself!"  Lennie demanded.

"Ellen...."  The voice whispered.

Lennie looked around the room.  Where could the speaker be hiding?  No evident recess could be seen.  In fact, where could she have been hiding throughout the trek she'd just had through the great house?  Of course these stately homes all had hidden passages and...

Lennie squinted as a chill overtook her.  

"Miss Blessum?"  She called out.  "What do you want of me?"

Curling her fingers into the palms of her hands, Lennie began to feel that she should flee.

"You're not Miss Blessum."  Lennie shook her head.  She took several steps backwards.  

As she did, the drapery at the far end of the room opened, flooding the room with an almost blinding light.

Lennie closed her eyes quickly and blinked.

Through her lashes, she saw a woman approaching her.  As her eyes adjusted she could see the woman's face--familiar and foreign at once.

It was the face of her mother.

Did you miss Chapters 1-57 of A Recipe for Punch?  If so, you can read them here.  Come back tomorrow for Chapter 59.  

Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 58

Chapter 58: 
To Watch You Tell It 


“Let me help you, dear Punch,” Robert said softly as he propped his companion up on several pillows which he’d arranged against the heavily-carved mahogany headboard.

“Sure,” Punch mumbled groggily.

Despite the fact that he’d been up all night keeping watch over Mr. Punch, Robert’s face showed no signs of fatigue. He was smiling for Punch’s sake though a tinge of worry showed in his bright blue eyes.

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with me,” Punch muttered.

“I’m sure there’s not, my dear.” Robert nodded. “Still, since you’re still not quite yourself this morning, I’d prefer it if you stayed in bed today.”

“Got things to do.” Punch grumbled.

“Such as?”

“Letters to write…” Punch held up a shaking hand and began listing his duties, each by weakly lifting a finger. “Cheques to write…one for the Goldsmith, one for the gem man. Oh…and I got to send the lists for the Goldsmiths Society…”

“I think all of that can wait for a day.” Robert shook his head.

“But, there’s more.” Punch argued absent-mindedly.

“And, it can all wait.”

Punch sighed.

“Tell me, dear Punch, how are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.” Punch snorted.

“Very well, my dear. We can continue in this way and you can continue to feel worse or you can realize that I know you’re not feeling well and tell me the truth so that I can better help you.”

Punch leaned his head backwards against the stack of pillows. “I’m nauseated, I am. And I feel like me limbs is shakin’. My eyes is all blurry and burnin’ and I can’t keep a thought in me head. And, I’m dizzy.”

Robert nodded.

“And weak.”

“Yes.” Punch frowned.

Robert climbed up on the bed and stretched out next to Mr. Punch.

“So…?” Punch smiled. “This is your answer? To lie down next to me?”

“For the time being.” Robert winked. “I’m thinking.”

“Do you do this with all your patients?”

“Only the ones with whom I live and raise a child.”

“Ah.” Mr. Punch yawned.

“Honestly, my dear, I can’t quite deduce what the matter is. I’d say you had contracted influenza, except you don’t have a fever nor are you exhibiting any of the other signs of the illness. I suspect you’re exhausted. The burden you’ve carried lately and the fact that you never sleep appears to have caught up with you. I’m going to give you something to help with your nausea. And, I have some elixirs which will help restore your strength. However, for the time being, I think the best cure for you is to stay in bed and rest.”

“But…”

“I know you don’t like to do it.” Robert took Punch’s hand. “But, you’re going to have to.”

Punch sighed.

“I’ll stay with you.” Robert smiled. “And, I’ve already asked Miss Barrett to bring Colin in later. I don’t think you’re contagious, so I believe it will be acceptable for the boy to sit with us. Of course, Dog Toby will enjoy this. See…” Robert pointed to the terrier. “He sleeps all day every day.”

“But, I ain’t Dog Toby.” Mr. Punch grumbled.

“No, but he’ll play with you. As will I. And, Colin. Gerard went out this morning—all on his own—to Brompton Road and stopped at Harrods. He selected some very handsome games and he and Charles are reading the guide books for them right now. They’ve asked me if they can spend some time with you this afternoon.”

“Playin’ games?” Punch raised his eyebrows hopefully.

“Yes.”

“So, Gerry and Charles want to play?”

“They do.”

“And, you’ll stay?” Punch smiled.

“Try to get me to leave.” Robert grinned.

“Well, maybe it won’t be so bad.”

“It won’t. I promise.” Robert grinned.

Someone knocked on the door. Robert sat up and threw his legs over the side of the bed. Standing, he said, “Come in.”

Gamilla entered the room, carrying a silver tray covered with a cloth. “Good morning, Doctor. Good morning, Your Grace.”

“Hullo, Gamilla,” Punch replied as brightly as he could.

“Mr. Speaight said I could come up and see ya.” Gamilla smiled. “How are you feelin’.”

“Not so bad.” Mr. Punch answered. “Just a little tired, maybe.”

Robert nodded. “His Grace has agreed to stay abed today and get some rest.”

“That’s what Gerard and Charles done tol’ me.” Gamilla replied. “Oh, Your Grace, you should see them games Gerry got for ya this mornin’. One of ‘em is all ‘bout a journey all over the globe and the other is a guessin’ game with all these pretty colored cards. Best I can tell is you look at the pictures and try to guess what the person does for a livin’. There’s even some pictures of Punch & Judy on a couple o’ ‘em.”

“Oh!” Punch nodded in appreciation.

“Gamilla,” Robert interrupted, “would you like to set down your tray?”

“Oh, yes, Sir.” Gamilla smiled. “Thank you. Mrs. Pepper sent this up for His Grace.”

“What is it?” Punch asked, sniffing the air. “Smells salty.”

“Well, Sir, best I can tell is it’s some kind o’ broth. Mrs. Pepper says she used to make it for her children when they was small and would get their stomachs upset. Georgie says that it always made him feel better. Mrs. Pepper sent it and tol’ me to tell ya that she hopes you feel better real soon. We all hope that, Sir. We’re all thinkin’ of ya.” She giggled. “I know I shouldn’t tell ya this cuz they want it to be a surprise, but Georgie and Ethel and Jenny sat by the fire last night workin’ on somethin’ special just for you, Your Grace. They’re makin’ a greetings card. Drew the pictures all on their own—the three of ‘em. It looks right pretty. They’re ever-so proud. Mr. Speaight done said that he’ll put it in an envelope and all. They’re gonna send it up to ya with your tea.”

Robert smiled. “That’s very kind.”

Mr. Punch nodded. “Nice folk we got here. So, Georgie is workin’ out?”

“Oh, yes.” Gamilla nodded, setting the tray on the small table next to Punch’s bed. “We all like him, Sir. He’s very polite and respectable. And, so helpful. And, Mrs. Pepper is so happy to have him here.”

“I’m glad.” Robert responded.

“Now, Sir, I ain’t gonna stay and tire ya out. Only, I think maybe you’d best eat some of this less Mrs. Pepper gets her feelin’s hurt. There’s some dry toast that Jenny made earlier there, too. Bread’s from the baker though. Mrs. Pepper didn’t have time to make fresh today. And, Miss Barrett suggested some of those boiled ginger sweets in the little bowl there. In fact, those are from her own tin of em. Says they’re good for the stomach.”

Punch squinted at the tray which Gamilla had uncovered.

“I’ll see that he takes a few spoonfuls of the broth and a few bites of the toast.” Robert smiled.

Mr. Punch shook his head in a firm, “No,” causing Gamilla to giggle as she left the room.

“If you make me eat that, you’re only gonna see it again in a few minutes.” Mr. Punch warned.

“You’ve got to take something.” Robert answered firmly.

“Or…not.” Punch grinned childishly.

“Punch…”

“Fine.” Punch muttered. Only I don’t want none of that broth. Don’t like the way it smells.”

“It is a little fishy.” Robert agreed. “Toast, then?”

“Nah.” Mr. Punch shook his head. “Give me one of them boiled sweeties to suck on. Me throat’s dry.”

“That’ll do—for now. But, you’ll need something more substantial soon.”

“Sure, sure.” Mr. Punch nodded, taking one of the candies from the small bowl which Robert offered him.

“Shall I read to you?” Robert asked.

“Nah…” Mr. Punch sighed.

“What shall we do, then?”

“Come back here and sit by me.” Mr. Punch answered. His eyes suddenly looked sad.

“What’s wrong, dear Punch?”

“Dunno.” Mr. Punch answered emotionally. “Just don’t feel right. Come sit by me.”

Robert did as instructed and looked up to see a tear trickle down Punch’s cheek.

“You’ll feel better soon, I assure you.” Robert said gently.

“I know.” Punch nodded. “But…”

“Yes?”

“Maybe we’d best talk ‘bout what might happen if I don’t.”

“Punch.” Robert’s eyes widened.

“It’s somethin’ we need to think ‘bout.” Punch answered.

“No.” Robert said quickly.

“Chum…we got to…”

“No.” Robert repeated firmly.

Punch pressed his lips together and nodded. “Very well.”

They sat in silence for awhile.

“I just can’t think about it.” Robert said softly after a few minutes.

“I un’serstand.” Mr. Punch whispered. “Go on, Chum. Tell me a story.”

“What would you like to hear?” Robert smiled gently.

“Don’t matter.” Punch sniffed. “I ain’t gonna listen. I just want to watch you tell it.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-57? If so, you can read them here. Come back on Monday for Chapter 59 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square.

Punch's Cousin, Chapter 58

The professor laughed. “I outweigh the both of ya--together. Do ya really think you could lick me?”


“I don’t need brute strength,” Robert smiled, removing a pistol from the breast pocket of his coat. “Not when I have this.”

“Here!” Punch cooed, “Where’d you get that, Chum?”

“It’s Cecil’s.” Robert said, pointing the pistol at the professor. He looked at the man called Zeke, “Get over there by your companion!”

Zeke did as instructed.

“Now, now, Doctor.” The Professor smiled. “We don’t want no trouble.”

“What is it you’re wantin’ then?” Mr. Punch frowned. “You come here for somethin’. Not gonna get me chum, Naasir. Not gonna bother me family no more.”

“You’re both barmy!” The professor spat. “You’re both mad!”

“If I am mad,” Robert narrowed his eyes, “I come by it quite naturally. And, if I am mad, I don’t suppose I have any idea what I’m doing. So, killing you won’t be difficult for me at all.”

Mr. Punch hooted. “Well, then, this is turnin’ out to be kind o’ a bit o’ fun, after all. Which one will ya shoot first, me chum?”

“The big one.” Robert growled. “I want the other one to watch him die.”

“Coo!” Mr. Punch chuckled. “Didn’t know ya had it in ya, Mate.”

“Barkin’ mad—the lot of ya.” The professor stammered.

“Am I?” Robert smiled. “Is it madness to protect my family? Don’t you think that threatening women and children is much more a sign of madness than my fraternal affection? Perhaps it is you, ‘Professor,’ who is mad.”

Footsteps thundered through the corridor behind them as Cecil bounded into the nursery. “Robert, dear boy, stop.”

Cecil was followed by Gros Chidi and his son, Ty Chidi and another man that they’d yet to meet. “Just let the boys take these two men out of here.” Cecil said slowly.

“And, have them return with more threats? And, have them inflict more pain on Adrienne? And, let them burn Naasir? And, allow them to harm my…Julian. And, let them bring uncertainty to your son?” Robert hissed frantically.

“What would you have me do, Brother? Allow you to kill these men in my son’s nursery?” Cecil whispered.

Robert lowered the pistol. “Take them before I change my mind.”

“Chidi!” Cecil snapped. “You and the boys show these men to La Rue de la Colline Cramoisie and escort them all the way down the hill.”

“If I ever see you again,” Robert raised the pistol, “either of you—I’ll make sure you’re filled with holes.”

Chidi and the others pushed The Professor and Zeke from the room.

“Give me my pistol.” Cecil said firmly.

Robert handed the weapon to his brother.

“How you found this is beyond me.” Cecil shook his head.

“You always keep a pistol in the top shelf of the bookcase in your study. Behind the books on Bernini.”

“I’m going to follow the men down the hill.” Cecil said quickly. “Adrienne and Fuller are safe with Gamilla. I want both of you to go out back to my studio and wait for me there.”

“I’m sorry, Cecil.” Robert sighed.

“For protecting my family?” Cecil smiled. “Never apologize for that. Just try to keep your wits about you.”

“I think he done perfect!” Mr. Punch whooped. “Showed me he’s got the guts what’s needed to be the champion he claimed he was.” Punch looked at Robert with great admiration and affection. “Liked you for a long time, I did. Trusted you, too. But, now, Chum, I respect you.”

Robert smiled. “Thank you, dear Punch.”

“Go on, then, both of you.” Cecil said sternly. “Mr. Punch, on the table in my studio is something for you. I stayed up most of the night working on it. It isn’t painted yet. But, you’ll know exactly what it is.”

“Somethin’ fer me?” Punch asked.

“Yes, a gift to show my gratitude to you for loving my family.” Cecil said. “Now, I’d best make sure those men are off of my land.”

With that, Cecil hurried down the passage.

“I’m proud of ya, Chum.” Mr. Punch smiled.

“I’m not so very proud.” Robert shook his head. “I don’t know what got into me. I’m usually so much more level-headed. I don’t know what possessed me to get Cecil’s pistol this morning. I just had a feeling I’d need it.”

“Glad you did,” Punch nodded Julian’s head. “Only, you don’t think maybe you got your own Mr. Punch inside you what made you think to do it?”

“No.” Robert smiled. “You’re the only Mr. Punch around here. There’s only one of me.”

“For the best,” Punch grinned. “Can’t really recommend it, what. No, it’s a bit confusin’ bein’ more than one fella at a time. ‘Sides, everyone only needs the one Mr. Punch, and I’m it.”

“You are, most assuredly, it.” Robert smiled. “Come along. Let’s do as Cecil said. I’m sure we’ll get a stern talking to. It’s his prerogative as eldest brother.”

“Fine, but then can we go to the Rittenhouse place what’s got Lady Barbara?” Punch asked as they walked.

“Yes, but remember, we need…”

“I know.” Mr. Punch groaned. “A map so’s we don’t make a mess a things. I know.”

Together, they walked out of the house—after checking on Adrienne and Fuller once more—and toward Cecil’s studio. A large brick building with rows of windows, Cecil’s studio stretched gracefully through a grove of huge oak trees, creating an L-shape which mimicked the lines of the main house.

“Kinda nice in here, in’t.” Mr. Punch smiled when they entered the building. “All bright and cheerful with lots a windows what he can see out of. And, look at all the statue folk. Marble and metal. Clay! Coo, hope he talks to ‘em.”

“I’m sure he does.” Robert nodded.

“Good, cuz I don’t…” Punch paused, pointing to the table in the center of the room. “Here!”

“What is it?” Robert coughed.

“Right there!” Punch pointed wildly. “It’s me head!”

Robert looked at the table. Amidst a pile of wood shavings and sawdust was a figure of Mr. Punch—not as he looked in Julian’s body—but as he once looked when he sat in the cabinet at Fallbridge Hall.

“Aint’ got no color on it. But, I can see, it’s me head! That’s me nose and me chin!” Punch whooped. “Brother Chum made me head!”



Did you miss Chapters 1-57? If so, you can read them here.