The Winter Garden (IMD #2)

Chapter Four: Penny Dreadfuls

Chapter Four:

 

Penny Dreadfuls

“Emmeline! Wait, Emmeline! Bring her back!” her mother screamed in the crackling darkness. She sounded so far away, and Emmeline was too drowsy to lift her eyelids to see where. The voice died away until she was left with only warm, passive blackness. The steady cadence of her breaths moved in time with her dream of fairy waltzes and red devils.

Emmeline shivered and opened one eye and then the other only to see her hair hanging in front of her face. As she pushed it to the side, she started up in bed, rattling the flimsy iron cot with her sudden motion. The room was silent except for the creaking as she stood up with the woolen blanket wrapped around her shoulders like a shawl. The chilled room was half the size of her bedroom and lacked all character or personal touches as there were no photographs, paintings, or even wallpaper hanging on the cracked, plaster walls. No, she was definitely not in the servants’ quarters in Headington. Standing in the corners were dusty specters, but when she pulled away their white mantles, all she uncovered were pieces of chipped and worn furniture. As she inspected the looming wardrobe, her eyes finally fell upon the peeling door.

Emmeline held her breath as she reached for the knob and felt it easily turn in her hand. Behind the door was a narrow hall with two more identical oak doors catty-corner to each other and a wooden panel on the opposite wall. Her heart pounded in her ears as she noiselessly padded down the hall, careful not to alert an unseen presence to her flight. She feared what lay behind the nearest door, but as she wrapped her gloved hand around the limp, brass knob, the door squealed open.

Emmeline’s heart sank at the dingy bathroom staring back at her. The once white toilet and sink had dulled to a sallow bone, and under the faucet of the tub, rust cascaded and crumbled in streaks of dull red. As her eyes ran up the cistern, she noticed that concealed behind some brown paper was a window. She looked over her shoulder and listened for any signs of life before carefully climbing onto the toilet seat. Emmeline teetered on the rim as she tore the paper away from the window, but when she finally created a big enough hole and stood on the tips of her toes for a better view, she could only make out the bleak, brick façade of the neighboring building less than a foot from the glass. Where am I? As she blinked away the remaining grogginess, the fear fell heavy in her breast. How did she get here? As she tried to recount the previous night’s events, her satin slipper slowly slid until her ankle rolled and her foot unceremoniously plunged into the cold water of the toilet.

Her shrill shriek reverberated in the tiny space before she could stop herself as she hopped down from her perch with her foot held out in horror. She didn’t want to touch it, but the water was rapidly seeping through the delicate fabric. Grasping the dry lip of the shoe, she flung it from her foot and against the far wall with such force that it bounced back and nearly touched her. She sneered at the shoe one more time before rushing toward the only door left in the hall. If someone did hear her, she would need to escape now. This time, the door would not budge. Emmeline pulled on the knob with all her might until her sore hands slipped off and refused to grasp its surface. As she drew back with tears of frustration pooling in her eyes, the floorboards rhythmically creaked overhead. She froze as she listened to the tread of boots stop above the hall.

Something scraped and squealed in the cavernous space behind the panel. Her brown eyes locked onto the wall as the straining noises grew louder until they finally terminated in a dull thud. Emmeline eyed the panel with suspicion, too afraid to open the pocket door but not knowing was too much for her to bear. She threw open the hatch and discovered a pot of tea, a tin of biscuits, and a plate of roasted mutton and carrots along with utensils and an empty cup on a chipped, wooden tray.