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Chapter Seven: Trifle Distractions

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nightfall had approached when Evans returned to the Le Cabinet des Curiosities late that evening, the chime of the longcase clock sounding nine times half an hour prior to his arrival. The shop was dark as he entered, a still and serene moment that he bathed in momentarily before turning to lock the door. Milky silver light of a waxing moon shone through the window, yet he was still having trouble locating the keyhole, struggling with two bulky packages under his arm. The soft patter of rain drumming on the tin roof suddenly fell stronger as the skies erupted, splashing the shadowy Pageantmaster Court with large droplets of water. With a sigh of relief, Evans was pleased to have narrowly missed the storm now arrived.

 

'I'll be back in a jiffy, he says.' Helena remarked shortly, arms crossed.

 

Evans jumped with a fright, turning to see the woman sitting quietly in the dark, at the shop counter. 'Good gracious woman! You startled me!' he exclaimed.

 

'Thought I was a ghost?' smirked Helena 'Aye you best be fearing me above any Sluagh if you don't tell me what you have been up to. You have been gone near on ten hours. Ten hours. Might have had the courtesy of informing me you were taking a small break in the country, I may have joined you.'

 

Evans chuckled 'Oh believe me, I intended to be away less than an hour. I was somewhat side-tracked.'

 

'Side-tracked indeed! For ten hours? Doing what?' she asked unconvinced 'What mischief have you been up to, Edgar?'

 

Finally locating the lock, a heavy click secured the entrance and Evans eventually turned back to the woman, revealing a slightly flustered face.

 

'Well I had to go find fresh chickens at the market to make more soup for Craven.' he replied quickly, his speech growing faster as he continued. 'So I set out to Dale the butcher on Tully Street. You know, the one next to that florist who sells all those damnable blossoms that make my eyes tear up and sneeze for half a day whenever I pass them. What are they? Those white ones, oh I have the name on the tip of my tongue…'. Evan's snapped his fingers as he remembered 'Lilies!'

 

'Good gracious man I did 'na ask you to tell me a minute by minute account of what you actually did!' exclaimed Helena 'Shall prepare some tea, supper and breakfast if you are about to go on for ten hours?'

 

Evans waved his hand. 'My apologies, everything has been very outlandish today and I rather feel at odds about it all. So! While I was walking to the butcher, who should I have passed by? Go on, guess!'

 

'Uh…Mr. Burns?' replied Helena uncertainly, unable to recollect many other people Evans was friends with 'Or that mad old woman who thinks she is a reincarnate of Cleopatra and always purchases your Egyptian pieces. Madame Everton?'

 

'No, no, no. Indeed, either would have been a great deal more pleasant to encounter I assure you. No Helena, on Peets Lane I passed by two women and one of them was Eleanor.'

 

'Eleanor?' she replied bluntly 'Your wife?'. The Scotswoman looked confused. 'I thought she was up in Darlington with that dolt Captain Briggs?'

 

'Well no, it seems not.' remarked Evans in surprise 'In fact Eleanor ran away from him about a year prior. Apparently the man was a brute and accordingly revealed a particularly foul character he had kept rather well hidden during the initial stages of their courtship.'

 

'Poor Eleanor.' chuckled Helena, obviously more amused than sympathetic 'The woman did 'na have the wits to note a man who runs off with another man's wife may have little regard to the feelings of others. Best know the character of the person before you go off on a dalliance in the hopes of a story tale happy ending.'

 

The gentleman looked disheartened as he contemplated the words of his companion. 'Perhaps you are right. Perhaps happy endings are indeed the substance of the make believe.'. Evans shrugged 'She has been living with her cousin in Kent. Indeed, she was as shocked as I on the chance encounter. I suppose she had thought I had remained at our cottage in Middlesex for she had no idea I owned a shop here in Ludgate Hill.'

 

'Lucky for you.' muttered the Scotswoman. Helena paused, watching Evans with painful scrutiny as he fidgeted with the string on one of the packages. 'Oh Evans no! Please do not tell me you have been in her company for the entire day.' grimaced Helena 'Surely you do not have feelings for Eleanor after all this time? After what she did to you!?'

 

Evans shook his head, looking quite miserable. 'Now, now, I will be the first to admit seeing her again felt different from what I had thought it would be.' he replied. 'I was so shocked, angry and then plain hurt when she ran away with no explanation except for that shameful note she left. Hurt as I was, I never wished such hardships to fall upon her, for someone to mistreat her so. I did not revel in her misfortune, only felt further sadness to see someone I loved having fallen prey to such a scoundrel. Then seeing her face again today, still sweet as ever. It reminded me of how we were before I left on that trip to Burma. Just newly married and a bright world waiting ahead of us full of potential.'

 

Rolling her eyes, Helena snorted in disapproval. 'That feeling fades soon enough, take it from me.'

 

'Not for our friend Craven?' argued Evans 'He was living that happy reality with Emily, 'twas no fictitious tale at all. No, I believe you and I merely chose the wrong partners, and now we have unfortunately grown cynical of the whole affair.'

 

'Aye yer probably right, before you know it I'll be a bitter old woman selling love curses and potions down in Shoreditch for a tuppence and a swig of gin.' chortled Helena. Rubbing her neck in slight agitation, she added more seriously 'Eleanor and Tearlach shared the same trait; they loved themselves so much there was no room for you or I in their hearts. Time may pass and trials and tribulations arise, but at the end of the day people never change. If I were with Tearlach now, he would still be drunk and off with some filthy strumpet. Emily would soon be off with the next Captain Briggs. The cycle would continue once more.'

 

Running his fingers along the smooth counter, Evans seemed more than a little perturbed by the interlude, his brown hair falling limply over his furrowed brow. 'As our dear fellow upstairs likes to say; I am no fool. I fear when Eleanor ran off she made it quite apparent where I resided in her affections. I merely exchanged a few words with the pair and went on my way. After all, Dale runs out of the best chickens by midday. I had to be on my way!'

 

Tilting her head, Helena looked curiously at Evans 'Then where were you all that time?'

 

Clicking his fingers, the shopkeeper continued 'Just after I departed from Eleanor and her cousin, I was stopped on the street by the most grandiose carriage passing by. Oh Helena, you would have laughed at the ostentatious of it. Gilded in gold, glass windows and draped with deep red velvet curtains, and on the inside red velvet seats and cushions with gold tassels! Every minute detail of the carriage was spectacularly ornate. It was shameless bourgeoisie hedonism at its best.'

 

Looking upon the man as if he was speaking gibberish, Helena threw her hands up in the air 'What on earth are you on about? I think I managed to gather the trap was a wee bit fancy?'

 

Evans laughed 'Fancy indeed! It was the Marquis of Châteauroux's carriage drawn by four horses and two coachmen, with the very man himself inside. We met at an East India British Trading soiree about seven years ago when I was still in the business. The Marquis invested a great deal of money as a backer and was always obsessed about furnishings, constantly at us to locate particular pieces for him from all around the world. Well he recognised me on the street, and asked if I would come to his estate right at that moment as he was determined to decorate his parlour in the Persian style. He recently has become quite obsessed with such pieces and had gotten word that Mr Burns and I held a great deal of Persian cargo from our expedition.'

 

'The Marquis of Châteauroux?' remarked Helena 'Sounds a little French. I'm guessing he tired of France?'

 

Evans drew in a swift breath 'Quite right! Of course he has been living here in west London for decades, although I suspect the Marquis will not be returning any time soon to the mother land lest he desires a welcome from the guillotine!'

 

'The Scots are not welcome in Scotland, the French nobles avoid France.' muttered Helena 'When did the world start to fall to pieces and go utterly mad.'

 

'When was it ever intact and sane?' pointed out Evans 'Yes well, the Marquis lives in a ridiculously large mansion, Château des Rêvers, in Belgravia.'

 

'He called his mansion the Castle of Dreams?' cackled Helena 'Is the man for real?'

 

Evans chuckled, shaking his head 'French aristocrat, need I say more? Well I could hardly refuse the man, so exuberant in his pleas that I come with him, so we went to his estate and I spent the next nine hours informing the man on what Burns and I had in our collection and advising as to how best decorate his opulent summer parlour. He plied me with fine cheeses and figs while he sipped champagne, and we listened to his musician manservant, one that he sourced from Vienna, to play Mozart on the harpsichord all afternoon.'

 

'I spent my afternoon cleaning chamber pots full of bile.' protested Helena 'While you were dining with a Marquis listening to Mozart?! I should clip your ears for having all the fun!'

 

'Fun?' remarked Evans, baffled at the statement 'I detest champagne, and the cheese was much too rich for my palate. Quite honestly I cannot tolerate the upper class and their odd ways of ceremony. Who has some Viennese lad living in their manor just so they can order him to play on a whim?'

 

Helena raised an eyebrow with a knowing grin 'Oh Evans you are too naïve if you think that was his only purpose.'

 

Apparently oblivious as to what his companion was referring to, he continued 'Oh and you know how the French are with all their decadent furnishings, there was hardly enough room left in the entire estate for a candle by the time we had finished. The Marquis managed to purchase most of our collection from Persia!'

 

'Aye, that I suppose justifies your disappearance.' grinned Helena 'Congratulations on making a large fortune whilst in pursuit of a chicken.'

 

'Trust me, I would have been quite content in merely obtaining the chicken without the rest of the dramas of today.' sighed Evans 'By the time I left Château des Rêvers, Dale had shut up shop hours prior and now I have nothing to put in the pot for supper. Oh and an apology in advance, I will need you to come with me to the cargo holds tomorrow. I need aid dealing with the clumsy loading men to transfer the pieces to his estate. Last time they broke several items before they reached the shop, I need a strong woman with sharp eyes watching them.'

 

Helena nodded, hands on her hips 'I'll keep 'em in check. Also any excuse to see the Castle of Dreams. Aye, happy to help.'

 

The gentleman threw an appreciate smile to the woman 'Thank you.'. Suddenly he grew serious, remembering their companion upstairs. 'How has Craven been?' inquired Evans, patting his right pocket and then his left, finally locating the item he was after and pulling out a box of Lucifers. Drawing a match, he struck it against the rough brown sandpaper and a sudden and rather vicious burst of flame came to life along with a repugnant foul stench of sulphur that filled the air as he drew to light a lantern on the counter. A soft light filled the pitch black room, yet with it brought even more shadows to the dark as the various furnishings and trinkets produced bleak outlines on the walls, dancing their sinister shapes as the flame flickered.

 

'Well he did not pass out, which is promising. He was sick the entire day mind you, but he stopped retching his guts a few hours ago.' informed Helena 'Poor man, I let him rest and he kept down some broth a few hours ago. He had a lot of questions, naturally. Asked me about my family so I told him all about how I returned to Fife and how you came and rescued me.'

 

'Oh I am so sorry Helena, I advised him against asking you about that.' replied Evans regretfully. With a gaunt and dismal face, accentuated by the light coming upwards onto his face, Evans looked fatigued by the last few days. 'Are you all right?'

 

Helena smiled, taking the packages off man to help him as he held the lantern. 'Bless you sweet man, you have all the compassion in the world bottled up in those bones of yours. I am fine thank you, but that lord upstairs got a lecture on manners. Quite the angry creature at times.'

 

''Tis is the opium, naturally.' replied Evans.

 

Helena scoffed at the response. 'Perhaps the opium brought it on, but no. There is a darkness lying dormant in that one. Comes out to play now and then, and then retreats back into its lair, but mark my words you have not seen the real Craven yet.'

 

'Well you know the man better than I.' remarked Evans a little stiffly.

 

Narrowed eyes on her companion, her lip curled ever so slightly. 'A wee exaggeration to be sure, I hardly know the man.' she replied 'I do know people though, ye ken?'

 

'Yes he made quite the impression on you I recall.' observed Evans. Throwing a raised eyebrow at the woman who was now refusing to reply to the baited words, Evans nodded in satisfaction. It was a rare occasion to keep his partner quiet and he revelled in it. 'How did he take it?' asked Evans 'About me coming to find you in Dysart?'. Evans looked troubled. 'Did you tell him about-'

 

'No, I said I would wait for you to return.' interjected Helena, anticipating the question 'Oh aye, he listened to what I had to say and considering all things, I think he took it rather well. Unintentionally I mentioned the left door but all he knows, well suspects now, is that the left door leads to somewhere else.'

 

'Somewhere else indeed!'. Evans took a deep breath, trying to gather his wits. 'Okay, it is time then.'

 

'Are you scared of his reaction?' she asked quietly.

 

'Are you?' he replied just as softly, lifting the lamp to reveal a worried look on his companion's face.

 

The woman ran her eyes across the dark room, finally landing her sight on the wardrobe under the stairs 'Nothing scares me anymore, 'cept that thing over there. Something tells me there is a great deal more to fear from it than we give credence. Ah but what has furrowing our brows ever done for us? We are as confused about it as ever, and soon Craven will be. Even more so I dare say. Let us hope he can shine some light on this for all our sakes, if not our sanity.'

 

'Well then there is no better time than the present, pardon the pun!' replied Evans with as much joviality as he could muster 'Let us go tell him the rest of the story.'

 

Grabbing the lantern, Evans moved towards the staircase beckoning a hand forth. Helena bit her lip as she followed onwards with the brown paper packages clutched tight in her hands, heading towards the master bedroom where Craven awaited to be told the rest of their story.

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