my silly words

corvids & tea (victorian era disaster) [pt1]

All of the children at school ask me the same question, and it bleeds together like wet ink and broken records. It's getting very old. "Is it quite lonely in the antiques shop, Theodosia?" "Do you find it boring?" "What can you possibly do for fun, locked up in there all the time?" As a matter of fact, it's not lonely in Fidalgo & Co's Antiques; nor is it boring. As for what I do for fun, you'd be surprised how many odd and entertaining things turn up on the doorstep of such a place, and I am quite confident when I say that I have seen it all. A teapot with spider legs. A crown fashioned of finger bones. A candelabra made to resemble an octopus all the way from the Pacific Ocean. And those are just the tamer items, the ones displayed in the musty window on the front of the shop. If you'd like something stranger— and most of the people that search out our shop do— all you've got to do is speak to my Aunt Mildred. She'll take you into the back room and shut the door behind her. There are all manner of dangerous objects in that room, and I'm not allowed in there, so naturally, I go all the time. The others at school also love to ask what's behind that door; that's one thing I'll never say.

"Theodosia, I'll give you my biscuit if you tell me just one thing." This was Mortimer Lawrence, and out of all of the scrubby urchins I went to school with, he was definitely the scrubbiest.

"I don't want your biscuit."

"Please? It's not about what's in the back room this time."

My Aunt Mildred always told me to walk like a queen and talk like a commoner. I'm not exactly sure what this means, and I don't know if she does either, but I tipped my chin up and lengthened my stride anyway as I walked towards the lunchroom, so that Mortimer, who was practically gnome-sized, had to scurry like a rat to keep up.

"It's important!" I didn't look back. "Theo, it's about my father!"

This, and only this, made me stop short. I turned slowly, forgetting even to be angry that he'd called me Theo. Everyone knew that Mortimer's father had disappeared mysteriously, almost without a trace, four years ago. Known just as well, only talked about less, was that his mother had taken to drinking afterwards. I could almost feel bad for Mortimer, if he wasn't so bothersome and didn't constantly smell of pickled fish.

"What about your father?" I asked hesitantly, considering too late that this might be some kind of joke. I'd slap him if it was, I really would.

"M--" He looked taken off guard that I'd really stopped, and had to get his bearings together. I didn't appreciate this. Of course I wanted to hear more details about the disappearance of his father; I wondered already if perhaps I could get my name in the paper. I could see it already: Theodosia Fidalgo, local 12-year-old, solves the coldest case in this side of the city.

"A strange woman told my mother that she saw a man who she swore looked just like my father go into the antiques shop. She said he acted real s'picious, looking 'round nervous-like." I narrowed my eyes. Mortimer did tend to lapse into sharp cockney when he got excited; I'd forgotten. There were no teachers around to swat him for it either, and with effort, I pretended not to notice.

"What did this woman say your father was wearing? Perhaps we can go ask Aunt Mildred if she remembers someone of that description."

"Wait, you're— you're really going to help me?"

I scoffed. "Mortimer, I'm practically a sleuth. I'm fantastic at solving mysteries. You clearly need me, so yes, I'm going to help."

"What mysteries have you solved?"

"That's not important. What's important is that we get to the antiques shop right now, before our lead dries up."

"But we're in sch—"

I gave a long, drawn-out sigh. "Mortimer, do you want to see your father again or not?"

Bullseye.

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WHY IS THIS GIRTL SO IRRITATING why did i MAKE her like that.  the horrific torment of being an author is that every thing you despise about your characters is YOUR FAULT.  listen to this girl.  she needs to be put through something deeply traumatic to change her entirely