Fennymore and the Brumella (5 page)

CHAPTER 10

In which the silvery grey gentleman finally tells the truth, or at least makes a stab at it

Hot steam rose from the mis-shapen mugs that the silvery grey gentleman had put in front of Fennymore and Fizzy.

‘Mmm, chocolate,' said Fizzy happily and immediately began to blow into her cup.

But Fennymore could not take his eyes off their host. After the silvery grey man had got over his initial shock, he'd started trying to get rid of them.

‘And kindly take the children with you,' he'd said to Monbijou.

But Monbijou had stood his ground, jammed on his brakes and haughtily rung his bell.

In the end the silvery grey man had given a terribly loud sigh and invited them in, avoiding Fennymore's eyes the whole time. He invited them to take a seat at the little wooden table that stood in the middle of the bare room. A single candle in the middle of the table lit the room dimly. The silvery grey man was making a great show of busyness in the kitchen.

There was a camping stove on top of a pile of orange boxes, and there was a stack of brown cups on a narrow shelf on the wall. They looked as if they had been made by a potter who was all thumbs. Beside them were several tins of drinking chocolate and a battered milk-jug.

The silvery grey man was still wearing his morning coat with tails and his silvery grey tie. The ceiling of the hut was too low for him, so he moved around at a crouch. Fennymore watched his every move. He was reminded of a spider that was caught in a jar and was feeling its way around on little spindly legs.

The way the silvery grey man opened a drinking-chocolate tin with his long fingers and carefully, oh so carefully, sprinkled it onto the milk with a concealed spoon was almost funny. He took great trouble to spill nothing, but as he turned around and unintentionally caught Fennymore's eye, his hand shook so much that he did in fact spill some of the chocolate powder onto the boxes. Fennymore swallowed a laugh. He felt strangely sorry for the man.

By the time they all had a cup of hot chocolate in front of them and the silvery grey man had wiped away the last of the spilt drinking chocolate, he had nothing more to do. He looked around helplessly, swivelling on his own axis. Fennymore noticed the long silver-grey wand that he'd had outside the Tristesse Ice-cream Parlour on Sunday leaning against the wall. Only today there was no bright light at the tip. Following Fennymore's gaze, the silvery grey man suddenly looked even more unhappy.

‘This is great chocolate,' Fizzy said into the silence. She seemed to be quite unaware of the tense atmosphere. ‘Have you been living here long?' she asked the silvery grey gentleman in a friendly voice.

The silvery grey man threw a quick glance in Monbijou's direction. Fennymore's sky-blue bicycle snorted menacingly. He'd made himself comfortable on the wooden floor by the table and was blocking the way to the door. The silvery grey man sighed and sat down with them at the table.

‘Well,' he said in a resigned tone. ‘It looks as if I have no choice but to tell the truth.'

‘You're right there,' Fennymore said, to his own astonishment.

It had just occurred to him where he had seen the silvery grey gentleman before. It was a long time ago. It must have been shortly after his parents disappeared. Fennymore and Monbijou had been sitting outside the house in the sun. At that time, Fennymore believed that his parents would come back any minute now. As the midday sun reached its highest point in the sky, Fennymore had heard a sound behind the little stone wall. Monbijou was uneasy, but Fennymore thought it was his parents coming back. And then, for a split second, Fennymore saw a face peeping over the wall. A very old and friendly silvery grey face.

‘What were you doing that time behind the wall?' Fennymore asked.

The silvery grey man looked him right in the eye for the first time. He blinked nervously.

‘Well, Fennymore Teabreak,' he said slowly, as if it was the first time he'd spoken that name and wanted to try the words out in his mouth, ‘just the same, basically, as I was doing yesterday in the apple tree, only that time you didn't catch sight of me.'

Fennymore gave the silvery grey gentleman an enquiring look, but the man went on talking.

‘I just wanted to see you. When I discovered that Fenibald and Regina had a child, I wanted to call the whole thing off, but it was too late.'

Fizzy spat her drinking chocolate back into her cup and cried, ‘You know something about Fennymore's parents? That's wonderful! Where are they?'

Fennymore said nothing. His scalp tingled unpleasantly. He'd twigged that what the silvery grey man knew was not that very wonderful at all.

CHAPTER 11

The silvery grey gentleman's story

‘I wasn't well at the time,' began the silvery grey man. He had pushed away his hot-chocolate cup and had folded his long grey fingers on the table top. He regarded his hands thoughtfully. ‘I was depressed and tired and I found the work difficult. A new place every day, all the travelling and the sad faces.' He sighed. ‘One day, when I had business in your town, I met Dr Hourgood.'

Fennymore noticed that his long grey fingers trembled slightly when he pronounced the name of the doctor.

‘There used to be a different doctor in that town. He'd know when he could do no more and it was time for me to get to work. You know how it is, a person has to go when their time has come, and it is my job to help their soul to find its way.'

The silvery grey gentleman raised his head and looked at the wall where his silvery grey wand was leaning.

‘But Dr Hourgood was different. He wanted to do a deal with me. It started with a factory owner. “Let's leave him a few days longer,” he said. “And we can split the profit that his company will make between us.”

‘I said no, I didn't need any money. Dr Hourgood gave me a long hard look and said he could see I was not enjoying the best of health. He stuck a thermometer in my mouth and took my pulse. Then he put on a very worried face and shook his head. Right away I felt worse. The doctor prescribed more rest, but I said I had to keep working. Someone like me doesn't get holidays or days off. I am always on duty.'

The silvery grey man paused and gave them a tortured look. ‘Please don't judge me. I had no one to turn to.'

But before Fennymore or Fizzy could answer, he went on, his voice getting softer all the time. Fennymore and Fizzy had to lean forward to hear him.

‘I can remember it as if it was yesterday. It was a dark and stormy night, just like this one. The elm was creaking outside the house. I had come back from a hard day's work and was just making myself a hot chocolate. My back was killing me and I had never felt so old. Then Dr Hourgood came knocking on my door. I have no idea how he found me. Nobody knows where I live, and nobody had ever come looking for me before. People normally avoid me. You can imagine how confused I was.

‘And then the doctor made a suggestion. It was a bad suggestion, but the more I thought about it, the greater seemed the advantages of this deal.' The silvery grey man sighed and hid his face in his large hands. ‘It was an unnatural idea. I should never have had anything to do with it.'

‘But you did it anyway?' Fennymore interrupted the silvery grey gentleman

‘Yes, I did it anyway,' he said, looking at Fennymore seriously out of his ice-green-grey eyes. ‘I fetched two people before their time. And for that, I got the unconditional right to work in the old folks' home in the town. Dr Hourgood promised he would never interfere with my work again and my conditions of employment would improve immeasurably if I did him this favour.'

Fennymore and Fizzy stared at the silvery grey gentleman. Fetched two people before their time? Fennymore was hot and cold at the same time.

‘These two people weren't by any chance …'

‘Regina and Fenibald Teabreak,' the silvery grey man finished Fennymore's sentence in a deathly voice. ‘The doctor had assured me that there were no relations and the pair of them were at death's door in any case. It seemed a bit odd, I have to say, when I saw how strongly and courageously Regina fought back, but by then it was too late.'

The silvery grey man looked unhappily at the pair of them.

‘You wretch! You rotter! You miserable worm!' yelled Fizzy, banging her cup down so hard on the table that the chocolate spilt.

Fennymore said nothing. He couldn't even move. It had been almost three years since his parents had disappeared. Three years in which he'd almost got used to his lonely life with Aunt Elsie and Monbijou. And deep down inside, he'd been hoping all the time that his parents would return one day and everything would go back to normal.

‘You haven't an ounce of decency,' Fizzy went on. ‘To take both of his parents from Fennymore –'

‘No, no, not both of his parents,' said the silvery grey man. ‘When I realised the doctor had landed me in it, and that no way had Regina been at death's door, I couldn't let Fenibald suffer the same fate. But what could I do? I couldn't let him go back because then the doctor would realise I hadn't kept my part of the bargain. So I modified Fenibald's brain and took him with me. He's here.'

CHAPTER 12

In which Fennymore meets his father and finds out what it means to be brain-modified

The candle on the table had burnt down half way.

It took Fennymore a few moments to make out the big wing-back armchair in the furthest corner of the room. Without really knowing what he was doing, he got up from the table and walked slowly to the armchair. His legs felt weak, as if they would stop obeying him at any moment. His scalp crawled. Did he really want to know who was sitting there in the armchair? And if it really was his father, would Fennymore recognise him?

What had he looked like? Fennymore tried to remember. Everything was blurry. A big, smiling form in the Invention Capsule. Short dark hair. A gentle voice. That was all.

Fennymore had reached the corner by now and he was standing quite close to the armchair. There really was someone sitting in it. A man. He sat bolt upright, his hands resting on his legs. His head was bowed, as if he were sunk right into himself. His dark hair was streaked with white. His beard was grey and shaggy. Fennymore was close enough to touch him.

Then the man whispered something to himself.

‘Rootle, tootle,' he said.

Or at least that was what Fennymore heard.

‘Rootle tootle, hairy foot. Square root, what a hoot.'

Fennymore raised his left hand and touched the man on the shoulder. Very lightly. Far off, as if through cotton-wool, Fennymore could hear Monbijou snorting. Then the man lifted his head slowly and looked at Fennymore. Or rather he looked through him.

‘Square root, what a hoot,' he repeated almost inaudibly.

The man seemed not to notice Fennymore, although he was standing right in front of him. Tears sprang to Fennymore's eyes, and at the same time he was overwhelmed by anger. With Aunt Elsie, who had gone and died on him. With Monbijou, who had brought them to this place. And with the silvery grey man.

He looked more closely at the man in the armchair. There were deep grooves in his face, or in the parts of his face that weren't covered by his beard. His gaze was fixed. This was supposed to be his father? No way.

Fizzy came over from the table and looked curiously at the man in the chair. He went on staring aimlessly into mid-air and moved his lips soundlessly.

‘Good afternoon, Mr Teabreak,' Fizzy said. ‘I hear you are the father of Fennymore here.' She poked Fennymore in the ribs. ‘So, well, I'm Fizzy.'

The man didn't seem to have taken in what Fizzy said. Only his whispering got a bit louder.

‘Rootle tootle, teabreak root. Teabreak, me break, teatwo-toe.' Then he sighed, sank his chin onto his chest and a moment later a soft snoring filled the silvery grey man's hut.

Fizzy turned around and raised her eyebrows.

‘Well, you've made a right mess of this,' she said to the silvery grey man.

Unable to move, Fennymore stood all the time with his back to the table. This man was not his father. He couldn't possibly be. His father had never had such a long beard. And if it
was
him … Fennymore didn't dare to finish the thought.

Then a bony hand was laid on Fennymore's shoulder. Fennymore swung around.

‘He'll come right,' said the silvery grey man. ‘Every day for the past three years I've given him a herbal potion to keep the brain modification active. If he doesn't have the potion any more, then the effects will recede and he'll be right as rain in a week or two.'

‘It's all the same to me,' said Fennymore, brushing the silvery grey man's fingers away. ‘You're mistaken. That's not my father.'

The silvery grey man looked sadly at Fennymore. ‘It is, Fennymore. Three years ago, just after your mother –'

‘Oh, good!' cried Fizzy far too loudly. ‘There's still some hot chocolate left. Who'd like some?' she asked with exaggerated cheerfulness.

The silvery grey man gave a little cough and said nothing.

‘Rootle tootle,' whispered the man in his sleep.

Fennymore looked at the hands resting quietly on the trouser-legs. They didn't look as old as his face. He'd often watched his father working deftly on an invention. Had it been those same hands?

He suddenly knew what had to be done.

‘We'll take him with us,' he said decisively. ‘We'll take him back to The Bronx. First thing in the morning.'

Suddenly everyone was talking at the same time. Monbijou gave an excited neigh. The silvery grey man let out a stream of prevarications, and Fizzy could be heard saying ‘Wonderful' every now and again.

When it went quiet in the hut, Fennymore said seriously, ‘We know now that Dr Hourgood wanted to get my parents out of the way.'

The silvery grey man gave the floor an embarrassed look, nodded and almost blushed.

‘But what we don't know …' Fennymore went on, and paused dramatically. ‘What we don't know is why. And to find out, we have to go back. And you …' He pointed at the silvery grey man. ‘You are going to help us.'

Then Fennymore looked at the long-haired man sleeping in the armchair with his chin on his chest. ‘And if that really is my father, it will perhaps be good for him to be in a familiar place.'

As they settled down to sleep on a pile of blankets in a corner, Fizzy cleared her throat loudly and said distinctly, ‘I just have one teeny-weeny question.' She turned to the silvery grey man and asked, ‘You're not Death by any chance, are you?'

‘My name is Hubert,' said the silvery grey man, giving his head a sheepish scratch.