sentry on the porch and entered the house through the colourful leadlight front door. They found themselves immediately beset by a terrible weeping and wailing.
“Good Lord,” Dody said, exchanging worried glances with her sister. “What on earth is going on? Has someone died?”
There was an agitated thumping on the basement stairs and the door leading from the kitchen was flung open by their parlour maid, Annie, her face as white as her lace cap, her hair sticking out at all angles as though she had suffered an electric shock.
“Ever so sorry, misses,” the girl said, “I couldn’t meet you at the door—we’re having a dreadful time downstairs. Cook’s lost her rag and threatening to hand in her notice. She wants poor Lucy to clobber ’em with the rolling pin and Lucy’s refusing, saying clobbering rats is not what a scullery maid’s paid for, and I says we need to call the rat catcher—”
Florence covered her mouth with her hands. “Rats? Downstairs? In our kitchen? How revolting!”
Realising at last what must have happened, Dody shot the maid a sharp look. “Annie, I told you not to clean my study. In fact, I asked you not to go into that room at all.”
“You’ve been keeping rats in your study?” Florence exclaimed. “Dody, how could you?”
“In preparation for some research . . .”
“I only took a little peep, miss, opened the cage door. Then one of their scaly tails brushed through my fingers and I panicked and the cage fell off the table. They must have been hungry ’cos they rushed in a mob down the stairs and headed straight for the kitchen.”
Dody had difficulty maintaining a straight face. She asked Annie to fetch the cage from her study.
Florence collapsed onto the hall chair.
“Come on, I need your help,” Dody said as she headed with the wire cage to the kitchen.
“You don’t need me; you need the Pied Piper.”
Great rats, small rats, lean rats, brawny rats, brown rats, black rats, grey rats, tawny rats
they were not—they were special laboratory rats, a new line developed for scientific purposes by the Wistar Institute, and Dody had had them shipped all the way from America. They were precious and not only for their rarity. Dody found that she had become quite fond of the docile creatures with their soft white fur and beady pink eyes. Although her rats were destined for inevitable euthanasia, she could not abide the thought of their senseless clobbering with a rolling pin.
She had less trouble coaxing them back into the cage with a hunk of bread than she had settling the servants’ nerves. Lucy was instructed to make Cook a strong cup of tea laced with medicinal brandy and then assist Annie with the tidying and disinfecting of the kitchen.
Florence was waiting in the hall for her return. Dody could not help herself. With a flourish, she produced a particularly robust specimen from behind her back. “Florence, meet Edward, my favourite, named after our late king.”
Dody had never seen Florence mount the stairs with such speed, and she laughed for the first time in weeks.
Chapter Four
SATURDAY 12 AUGUST
M argaretha paused as her handmaiden took hold of the edge of her veil. The piano player struck three sharp chords and out she spun, twisting her way to the edge of the splintered stage to dance seductively for the lone man in the front row, who rewarded her with a shudder and an intake of breath.
She kept her eyes on him as she danced, her remaining veils floating about and enhancing her succulent curves. It must help to have someone in the audience to focus on, the pianist supposed, although this was not the face he would imagine her choosing. Tall, gaunt, and yellow-eyed—not even Gabriel Klassen’s type—this lone member of the audience must have crossed her manager’s palm generously to be allowed in for the rehearsal.
Tomorrow they would rehearse with the full orchestra. Gabriel Klassen was in the shadows at the back of the hall now, writing
“Good Lord,” Dody said, exchanging worried glances with her sister. “What on earth is going on? Has someone died?”
There was an agitated thumping on the basement stairs and the door leading from the kitchen was flung open by their parlour maid, Annie, her face as white as her lace cap, her hair sticking out at all angles as though she had suffered an electric shock.
“Ever so sorry, misses,” the girl said, “I couldn’t meet you at the door—we’re having a dreadful time downstairs. Cook’s lost her rag and threatening to hand in her notice. She wants poor Lucy to clobber ’em with the rolling pin and Lucy’s refusing, saying clobbering rats is not what a scullery maid’s paid for, and I says we need to call the rat catcher—”
Florence covered her mouth with her hands. “Rats? Downstairs? In our kitchen? How revolting!”
Realising at last what must have happened, Dody shot the maid a sharp look. “Annie, I told you not to clean my study. In fact, I asked you not to go into that room at all.”
“You’ve been keeping rats in your study?” Florence exclaimed. “Dody, how could you?”
“In preparation for some research . . .”
“I only took a little peep, miss, opened the cage door. Then one of their scaly tails brushed through my fingers and I panicked and the cage fell off the table. They must have been hungry ’cos they rushed in a mob down the stairs and headed straight for the kitchen.”
Dody had difficulty maintaining a straight face. She asked Annie to fetch the cage from her study.
Florence collapsed onto the hall chair.
“Come on, I need your help,” Dody said as she headed with the wire cage to the kitchen.
“You don’t need me; you need the Pied Piper.”
Great rats, small rats, lean rats, brawny rats, brown rats, black rats, grey rats, tawny rats
they were not—they were special laboratory rats, a new line developed for scientific purposes by the Wistar Institute, and Dody had had them shipped all the way from America. They were precious and not only for their rarity. Dody found that she had become quite fond of the docile creatures with their soft white fur and beady pink eyes. Although her rats were destined for inevitable euthanasia, she could not abide the thought of their senseless clobbering with a rolling pin.
She had less trouble coaxing them back into the cage with a hunk of bread than she had settling the servants’ nerves. Lucy was instructed to make Cook a strong cup of tea laced with medicinal brandy and then assist Annie with the tidying and disinfecting of the kitchen.
Florence was waiting in the hall for her return. Dody could not help herself. With a flourish, she produced a particularly robust specimen from behind her back. “Florence, meet Edward, my favourite, named after our late king.”
Dody had never seen Florence mount the stairs with such speed, and she laughed for the first time in weeks.
Chapter Four
SATURDAY 12 AUGUST
M argaretha paused as her handmaiden took hold of the edge of her veil. The piano player struck three sharp chords and out she spun, twisting her way to the edge of the splintered stage to dance seductively for the lone man in the front row, who rewarded her with a shudder and an intake of breath.
She kept her eyes on him as she danced, her remaining veils floating about and enhancing her succulent curves. It must help to have someone in the audience to focus on, the pianist supposed, although this was not the face he would imagine her choosing. Tall, gaunt, and yellow-eyed—not even Gabriel Klassen’s type—this lone member of the audience must have crossed her manager’s palm generously to be allowed in for the rehearsal.
Tomorrow they would rehearse with the full orchestra. Gabriel Klassen was in the shadows at the back of the hall now, writing
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