The Mystery of the Clockwork Sparrow (4 page)

‘I can’t seem to get the silly old bodice done up,’ the girl was saying cheerfully, clutching uselessly at the evening dress. ‘Do you think you could help? Oh thanks awfully. This is the frock I’m supposed to be wearing for the first dress show tomorrow, you see. I’m due to go to see Monsieur Pascal, so he can decide on a hairstyle to complement it, and I don’t suppose they’d like it much if I went roaming the place in my petticoats . . . Oh I say, you are doing a good job.’

Sophie had managed to untangle the dress and was looking it over. ‘I think maybe your corset needs to be tighter,’ she suggested.

‘You’re probably right,’ said the girl with a heavy sigh. Now that they were closer together, it was clear that she was younger than Sophie had first thought – perhaps only about sixteen. ‘I can’t bear a tight corset. So hateful not being able to breathe properly – don’t you think? Oh well, you have to suffer for your art I suppose, not that this is exactly what I’d call art, but you know what I mean. At least I’m only going to be doing this for a little while.’ She paused for a moment to gaze at her reflection in the mirror while Sophie tugged hard at the corset strings, and then went on, in a more confidential tone: ‘I’m really just doing it to earn a bit of money while I try and get more work in the theatre. You see, what I really want is to be an actress. I’ve just got my first real part – nothing like proper acting, just singing and dancing in the chorus in a silly show at the Fortune Theatre, but it’s a start.’

She stepped into the rustling silk skirt, and as Sophie lifted it up and fastened the tapes, she continued. ‘I know acting isn’t exactly respectable. My parents absolutely loathe the idea. Father’s awfully cross with me about it. As for Mother, she’s in a terrible pet that one of her friends is going to come in here and see me modelling frocks.
They
think I ought to be at home doing dreary piano practice and going to tennis parties and waiting for some stuffy fellow to decide to marry me. Could you imagine anything more dull?’ She pulled a face so expressive that Sophie couldn’t help laughing.

‘But then I’ve always known I was meant to tread the boards. It’s just the only thing I
could
do,’ the girl went on. Then she added hastily, ‘I mean, working here is jolly fine too of course. What do you do? Are you a salesgirl?’

Sophie was doing up the dozens of tiny buttons at the back of the bodice. ‘Yes, in the Millinery Department.’

‘Hats! How jolly! I love a good hat, don’t you? I say, this is rather a nice frock, isn’t it?’

Sophie gazed at the girl’s reflection in the mirror. If she had looked like a goddess before, she looked even more like one now. The gown was pale gold, with a pattern of peacock feathers on the sweeping skirt and a closely fitted bodice elaborately beaded in blue, green and gold. The girl turned first one way and the other, the rustling skirts swinging, and then gave Sophie a wide grin.

‘I think this must be meant for you,’ said Sophie, removing a hat from one of the boxes she had brought – an exquisite creation in green velvet trimmed with peacock feathers.

‘Thanks awfully for your help. I’m Lil by the way – well, Lilian Rose, if you want to be proper.’

‘Sophie Taylor.’

‘Nice to meet you, Sophie Taylor,’ said Lil, breezing out of the room. Sophie followed her, the empty hat-box under one arm.

‘I say –’ Lil, who didn’t seem to be able to stop talking for more than a second at a time, was just beginning again, when they both stopped suddenly in the passageway at the sound of a voice. It was whispering from behind a clothes rail hung with evening dresses that had been left to one side: ‘
Pssst! Sophie!
’

To Sophie’s astonishment, she saw the young porter from the cloakroom hovering behind the rack of gowns. His face was pink and alarmed.

‘What is it?’

He motioned for her to come behind the rack and she did so, Lil following at once, looking intrigued.

As soon as she saw him, Sophie realised why he looked so unhappy. His smart blue uniform jacket was smeared from neck to waist with what looked like mud, but which smelled distinctly worse.

‘Hullo,’ said Lil cheerfully. ‘Are you a friend of Sophie’s? I’m Lil. I say – you’re in rather a state aren’t you? Whatever have you been up to?’

Billy gaped at her for a moment, evidently confused and horrified to have been discovered looking like this by an impossibly beautiful girl in an evening gown. Then he looked desperately at Sophie. ‘I’ve tried to get it off but it just won’t budge,’ he said urgently. ‘The girls will laugh their heads off if they see me like this – and Uncle Sid’ll give me a walloping. And Mr Cooper will sack me for sure. Do you know any way that I could clean it?’

Sophie became serious. Mr Cooper had made it abundantly clear that everything – and everyone – would be expected to be quite perfect before Mr Sinclair carried out his inspection later in the day. She had already seen Cooper dismiss staff who did not come up to his exacting standards. She thought quickly. ‘It will come off easily enough, don’t worry. But it needs laundering properly. We need to let it dry, then brush it down and wash it.’

The sound of voices passing by made her break off and for a moment they all crouched down behind the rack, hoping not to be seen. Billy tried his hardest not to brush mud against any of the gowns.

‘Gosh, this is rather a lark,’ murmured Lil.

‘
Sssshhh!
’ Billy and Sophie hissed together.

Sophie turned back to Billy. ‘We need to find you a spare jacket to borrow, just for a day or two. Then I can take this away and wash it and no one will be any the wiser.’

Billy’s face brightened. ‘There must be some spare ones somewhere,’ he said hopefully.

‘In the basement, I think,’ said Sophie, thinking quickly. ‘I’m not sure exactly where though.’

Lil’s eyes lit up. ‘I do!’ she exclaimed. ‘I saw some uniforms in one of the little storerooms down there.’

‘Whatever were you doing there?’ Sophie asked, looking curiously at their new acquaintance. The labyrinth of twisting passages and storerooms in the basement was one place that even she had not much wanted to explore.

‘Oh, just taking a look around,’ said Lil, airily. She grinned. ‘One of those salesmen – Jim something-or-other – was rather insistent about giving me a tour.’

Sophie laughed, but the sound of Sidney Parker’s voice rumbling somewhere not very far away from them made her hurry on. ‘Take that jacket off and I’ll deal with it,’ she said quickly to Billy. ‘Then you and Lil can go down the back stairs to the basement and find another one.’

‘What – in my
vest
?’ demanded Billy, pink-faced.

Distinctly, they heard Sidney’s voice calling, ‘Billy!
Billy!
Where the devil has the boy got to now?’

‘Quickly – go!’ Sophie hissed.

Mortified, Billy wriggled out of his jacket and flung it to her. ‘But what will you do with it?’ he whispered.

Sophie opened the empty hat-box, whisked the jacket inside and put on the lid.

‘Perfect! Come on!’ said Lil cheerfully, grabbing Billy by the arm, and flashing a grin at Sophie as they disappeared.

L
il led the way down a dark, echoing passageway. From somewhere behind her came the young porter’s uncertain voice:

‘Are you
sure
this is the right way?’

She glanced over her shoulder at him. His face was pale and anxious in the dark. Rather a poor show to be frightened by a few dark corridors, she thought; but then he did seem rather a timid sort of chap. For herself, she rather liked this basement underworld; there was something deliciously mysterious about it.

‘You’re not scared, are you?’ she teased.

‘No!’ he flashed back, a little too quickly. ‘It just seems like an odd place to keep uniforms.’ He hesitated for a moment, then added suspiciously, ‘This isn’t some sort of awful
joke
, is it?’

Lil felt a little ashamed of herself. The poor fellow looked exactly the sort who would be forever having his leg pulled. ‘Of course not,’ she said, heartily. ‘I say, there are a lot of rooms down here, aren’t there? Dozens and dozens, all of them empty. I suppose they’ll be needed eventually, but for now, hardly anyone seems to come down here.’

‘I’m glad to hear it,’ said Billy, muttering something else almost inaudible about not wanting to be seen skulking around a darkened basement with a
girl
, wearing only his vest.

Lil paid no attention. ‘Here we are,’ she announced triumphantly, pushing the door open on to a small room containing several racks of Sinclair’s uniforms. ‘Well, off you go then,’ she urged. ‘Try them on. One of them will do, I’m sure of it,’ she said, perching on the edge of a wooden crate.

Billy eyed her uneasily. ‘Are you planning to just sit there and
watch
?’

‘Would you like me to cover my eyes?’ she asked mischievously.

He ignored her, and wriggled into a jacket that looked about the right size.

‘A perfect fit,’ she said, pleased, bouncing down from her makeshift seat. ‘Now, we’d better get back upstairs before anyone notices we’ve gone. Come on!’

But they had barely stepped out into the passage again before Lil stopped suddenly in her tracks. She could hear something: not the usual quiet creaking sounds of the basement, but something more distinctive – the sound of regular footsteps, coming closer and closer towards them. She grabbed Billy’s arm, and dragged him quickly around a corner, and against a wall.

She could see he was annoyed with her now. ‘What d’you think you’re doing?’ he began crossly, but she put a finger to her lips willing him to be silent. He gazed back at her, confused, then he heard the footsteps too, and understanding, he pressed himself back against the wall. A figure was approaching, shadowy in the dim light. Lil held her breath. Any moment now, they might be discovered. Beside her, Billy squeezed his eyes shut, as if waiting for the moment to come, but she peered round the corner, fascinated, as it approached and then passed by, down the corridor and out of sight.

She let out a long gust of breath.

‘Whoever do you think that was?’ she whispered, intrigued.

‘
Shhhh!
’ hissed Billy.

They stood still and waited until the sound of footsteps faded away, before creeping back into the main corridor and up the stairs to the shop floor.

From the very beginning, it had been clear that Edward Sinclair planned to take good care of his staff. They had a far better time of it than their peers in London’s other great stores. They were not expected to sleep in cramped dormitories above the shop, nor to work long hours for low pay. They had proper training, decent wages, and sensible working hours, including regular tea breaks and a substantial midday meal, which they ate in shifts in the large staff refectory. Of course, the food on offer wasn’t anything to compare with the elegant dishes that would very soon be served in the store’s luxurious Marble Court Restaurant, but the smell of mutton stew that day certainly made Sophie feel hungry as she walked into the large dining hall.

On the threshold, though, she hesitated. The staff sat where they liked at the long tables, but there was a rule that the men and boys kept to one side of the room, women and girls to the other. Because of this, although Sophie could see Billy sitting by himself across the room – now looking much tidier, his copy of
Boys of Empire
spread open on the table in front of him – she couldn’t go over and sit with him. But equally she knew she would not be very welcome at the table where Edith was holding forth to a cluster of her fellow shop girls. With some relief, she spotted an empty place in a corner where she could sit alone. But before she could make her way over to it, she felt a hand on her shoulder.

‘Miss Taylor,’ said an unfamiliar voice, and she turned around to see a tall, fair young man whom she recognised slightly – Bert Jones, Ladies’ Fashions. He wore his hair sleeked back, and smelled strongly of cologne. Sophie nodded politely, but felt confused. She had barely exchanged two words with Bert before, and all she really knew about him was that Edith had been telling everyone that he had already invited her to walk out with him.

‘I hear you’re coming up in the world,’ he said, in a confidential tone. ‘Little promotion on the way? Mum’s the word though, eh?’ He tapped the side of his nose.

Sophie smiled awkwardly and made to move away, but he put a long-fingered hand on her elbow. ‘Look, the way I see it, Miss Taylor, you and I have got things in common. You’re obviously a smart girl, and me – well, I don’t like to brag, but I’m smart too. Going places, see? Catching the right people’s attention. So how about you step out with me on Friday night, after closing time?’

Sophie felt her face flush scarlet. She felt horribly conscious of the shop girls gasping and giggling, and Billy goggling at her from across the room. ‘But . . . I thought you were walking out with Edith,’ she managed.

Bert shrugged. ‘Well, maybe I was. But things change, don’t they?’ he said with a knowing wink.

Sophie lifted her chin. ‘Thank you, but I don’t think so,’ she said firmly.

Bert eyed her thoughtfully. ‘They all said you were stuck-up,’ he said. Then he grinned. ‘Well, that’s all right by me. I don’t mind a girl being a bit above herself. Come on, Your Ladyship. I’m a catch, me. On Cooper’s good side. Doing his special commissions after hours, so I’ve got a few quid coming my way. I’ll treat you proper – like a lady.’

‘Can’t you tell she’s not interested?’ came a clear, matter-of-fact voice from somewhere behind her. To her astonishment, Sophie saw that Lil had appeared at her elbow. She was now dressed in a plain skirt and blouse instead of the green and gold peacock gown, but she still looked as extraordinary as ever. ‘Leave her alone and go and eat your dinner.’

One or two people laughed, and Bert stared for a moment, taken aback. Then he seemed to register all the watching faces and a scowl broke over his face. He let go of Sophie’s elbow and stalked away towards the gentlemen’s side of the room, his hands in his pockets, as if nothing had happened.