4
The small hospital was tucked away in the northeastern corner of the Old Town. It had wrought iron railings outside and a huge blue door with a big brass knocker. Effie, tired from all her walking, and a bit weak from having no breakfast, went in. Usually there was a nurse on the desk, but on this Monday morning there was no one, so Effie went up the stairs by herself and along the gloomy corridor. She opened the door to her grandfather’s room, wondering how he was, hoping he had come through the operation OK, despite what he had said on Saturday.
The room was empty. Well, there was a bed and a bedside cabinet and an empty vase. But her grandfather and all his things were gone. Effie felt tears come to her eyes. But no – she must have gone to the wrong room. Or maybe they had moved him. Or maybe, maybe . . . But it was the right room. She knew that, really. And she understood what it meant.
The next thing Effie knew she was being taken into the nurse’s special kitchen where someone gave her a cup of hot chocolate, and she was trying not to cry in front of everyone, and one of the nurses was saying that her grandfather had gone peacefully, during the operation, and that he had looked happy, almost, as if he were just at the gates of heaven.
‘Where’s my dad?’ asked Effie.
Another nurse said she thought that Effie’s father had gone off to clear out Griffin’s rooms in the Old Rectory. The nurse offered to page him, but the Old Rectory wasn’t far, and Effie said she’d go and meet him there. And so, all of a sudden, that was it. It was a hollow, horrible feeling. Except . . .
‘The codicil!’ Effie gasped. ‘What about the codicil?’
The nurse frowned. ‘The what?’
‘And his things. His silver ring and . . . There should be an envelope for me, and some other . . .’
The nurse shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, dear. Your father said he didn’t want to take anything, so it’s all gone to charity.’
‘What? But I don’t understand.’
‘A lot of people do that. You know, to give back to the hospital trust. Your grandfather had a ring, you say?’
‘Yes. It was an antique, I think. He wanted me to have his . . . Some of his things, very important things, and . . .’
The nurse sighed. ‘I can show you the room where we put everything if you like.’ She looked at her watch. ‘I don’t think the charity man has been yet. But we’ll have to hurry.’
Effie followed the nurse out of the main hospital building and down a passageway to a herb garden full of lavender and sage, just starting to die down now before the winter. There was a little cobbled courtyard and some old steps leading up to a one-storey stone building. The sign on the door simply said CHARITY. Inside, there were clothes and books and alarm clocks and all sorts of other sad-looking objects. Effie looked for her grandfather’s things, not wanting them to spend a moment longer in this gloomy place than was necessary. But there was nothing.
‘Well?’ asked the nurse. ‘Any sign of this envelope? Or the ring?’
Effie shook her head. ‘I’ll just check one more time.’
The nurse looked around her quickly, with a slightly frightened look in her eyes. ‘Well, you’d better be quick, before the charity man gets here.’
Effie didn’t like the sound of the charity man. But she had to find her grandfather’s things. She searched and searched, but they were not there. Eventually, her eyes filling again with tears, she had to thank the nurse and leave.
Outside it was still cold, despite the mellow autumnal light. Effie drew her school cape around her and walked quickly towards the Old Rectory. Perhaps her father had taken the things after all. Effie had only been walking for a minute or so when she heard breathing behind her. Someone was following her. She increased her pace; her follower did the same. Then, suddenly, the follower hissed her name – ‘Effie!’ – and grabbed her arm and dragged her into a thin cobbled passageway.
It was one of the nurses from the hospital. Nurse Underwood – Maximilian’s mother. She was breathing heavily and her face was very stern and serious. She put her finger to her lips and then took Effie’s hand, opened it, and placed in her palm a silver ring with a dark red stone held in place by a number of tiny silver dragons.
‘My grandfather’s ring!’ said Effie. ‘Thank you! I— ’
‘Shhh!’ said Nurse Underwood urgently. ‘Don’t tell anyone,’ she whispered. ‘And you must hurry away from here. The charity man is coming. He doesn’t like it when we give things away. Don’t let him catch you.’
Effie thrust the ring in the pocket of her cape and was about to run, but . . .
‘What about the other things?’
Nurse Underwood frowned.
‘My grandfather was writing a codicil. You were there when he was doing it.’
‘I think your father may have that,’ Nurse Underwood said. ‘As for the other things . . .’ She looked at her watch.
At exactly that moment Effie heard the sound of more footsteps. These were heavier than Nurse Underwood’s and made a sharper sound. Then a man appeared.
‘Oh good,’ said Nurse Underwood. ‘Dr Black. Have you . . .?’
‘Hello, Euphemia,’ he said. ‘I’m the surgeon who operated on your grandfather. I’m so sorry for your loss. I did everything I could to get him to the Otherworld, but I don’t know if he made it.’ Dr Black took a cotton drawstring pouch from the pocket of his large overcoat. ‘These are the items that remained. He particularly wanted you to have them, for, well, obvious reasons. He was concerned that if your father got them first they might be destroyed. I tried to catch you before, but you rushed off. Luckily Nurse Underwood beeped me when she saw you leaving. It is of course vital that as few people as possible know about this.’ Dr Black looked up and down the deserted alleyway. Then he gave Effie the drawstring pouch.
‘Good luck,’ he said.
And then, before Effie could even say thank you or ask what Dr Black had meant about the ‘Otherworld’, he and Nurse Underwood both hurried away.
Effie didn’t want to be caught by the charity man. She opened the drawstring pouch and saw inside the wonde, the crystal, the letter opener and her grandfather’s spectacles. She closed the pouch carefully and put it right at the bottom of her schoolbag. Then she ran.
When Effie arrived at the Old Rectory, it seemed as if there was no one there, not even her father. Effie reached under the flowerpot for the spare key, but it was gone. She looked through the downstairs window and saw Miss Dora Wright’s things just as the teacher had left them. How awful to have lost two people so dear to her, one after the other. But Miss Wright would come back, of course. Wouldn’t she? Effie couldn’t see into any of the upstairs windows. Were her grandfather’s books still there?
Just then a latch clicked from inside the Old Rectory, and the door started to open. It was Effie’s father, looking pale and tired. He was tucking a cream-coloured business card into the pocket of his suit trousers, and looking so distracted that he didn’t seem to notice his daughter at first. Then he saw her and his face changed, reddening slowly like an angry sunset.
‘Effie,’ said her father. ‘Why aren’t you at school?’ After a pause he looked at the ground. ‘Oh dear. You know about your grandfather.’
There was a time when Effie and her father had been a lot closer than they were now. There had been a time when this situation would have led to a jumble of feelings and they would have talked and talked – each interrupting the other – until sense finally came out. Once, Effie would have cried,