1. On the Night Watchman Express
he Night Watchman train swayed and chugged along through the countryside. Miriam stole a look at Simon’s grim profile, sighed slightly and tried to shift into a more comfortable position. Since they sat on a floor made of dimpled iron, this was next to impossible. The windows in their carriage were boarded up with planks of roughly hewn wood, so there was no way to tell what time it was, or whether it was even still dark outside.
Her head drooped with weariness and hit the hard, wooden side of the train, and it woke her with a start. Sleep stole over her once more, and her head banged against the wall again. After a few more bumps, Miriam sat up and rubbed her eyes with one hand. She felt as though the inside of her lids had been filled with fine sand. In order to stay awake, she considered trying to talk to Simon, but his gaze was fixed at the wall opposite them, and he had a stern frown on his face. She wasn’t in the best of moods herself; certainly they would only end up in another argument.
She folded her arms against her stomach and thought about a story she wanted to write when she got off the train. It was set in a country where there was a crystal globe called the Birthright, which protected the people and the lands in some mysterious way. However, the king of the country, who wished for quick riches to satisfy his own evil greed, sold the precious bauble. The land began to die slowly; the trees lost their leaves, even though it was still summer, and the rivers turned black and were filled with slimy, wriggling creatures.
Miriam felt a chill on her back as she imagined the pale, armless, boneless things that would fill the springs and wells and fountains in her imaginary country. Ugh. That would be the last straw for Tom, the farmer’s son who loved to fish and swim in the ponds on the farm. No! Make that the last straw for Thomasina, the farmer’s daughter. Miriam glanced at Simon triumphantly, as if she had just scored a point against him.
“Why must you smirk at me like that?” he demanded.
“I have never smirked at anyone in my life!” Miriam retorted. There you go, she thought. She knew they would only quarrel if they talked. “Be quiet if you can’t be polite.”
“Why are you trying to stay awake?” he asked, curling his lip. “You yawned so much just now that my ears nearly popped. You might as well just go to sleep, since we have no idea when we’ll arrive, or even where we’re going.”
“Well thank you very much for that incredibly intelligent suggestion, but I can’t sleep. My head bangs against the side of the carriage when I do.”
“Oh for heaven’s sake. What an idiot.” Simon inched nearer and nudged her with one elbow. “Here, you might as well lean against me. Well, go on, I won’t bite.”
After an instant’s hesitation, Miriam moved closer to Simon and gingerly put her head on his arm. That wasn’t so bad. In fact, it was rather warm, and quite comfortable.
Simon looked down and watched Miriam’s eyes flutter and close. She snored gently and put one hand on his arm.
He felt a tickle in his throat and stifled a cough. The floor of the carriage was filthy. In fact, there were some large stains in one corner that looked like dried blood. He looked away and strained his ears for any sounds from another carriage. All he could make out, however, above the constant rattle of the rails, was an anonymous intermittent rumble that could either be conversation or the pipes backing up. It could even be the conductor who had refused to listen to him earlier.
Well, no matter. When they arrived at wherever they were headed, he would explain to whoever was in charge the mistake that had obviously occurred, and he and Miriam would be sent home quickly. That fool of a ticket collector would have a great deal of explaining to do… he might be put in jail, or even deported… – Ouch! In between musings, he had fallen asleep and banged his own head on the side. Simon rubbed his head and remembered that he had called Miriam an idiot for doing that exact same thing. He shifted and experimentally tilted his head against hers so that they leaned against each other. Hmm… that was a bit better. Soon, he was snoring too.
The door opened with a sudden bang. Miriam looked up and blinked sleep out of her eyes. Beside her, Simon stirred as well. She realized with a jolt of something like shock in her stomach that they had fallen asleep curled up together.
“Disturb your kip, did we?” The odious conductor tapped a pencil against one leg and grinned. “About to have some company, you are.” He looked out of the doorway and shouted to some unseen companion, “Bring the lot of them in! Sleeping Beauty and Prince Charming was just waking up.”
It seemed they had stopped at a station. A large man, whose arms were bound behind his back, stumbled into the carriage as if he had been given a hard shove from behind. A thick chain at his feet connected him to another prisoner, who followed the first man closely. Another man entered, and another, all connected by the same chains.
Four prisoners altogether. Miriam swallowed. They didn’t look like the types to inspire a friendly chat. The first hadn’t shaved in weeks and wore a huge tattoo inscribed on one arm. He slid down, crouched on the floor opposite her and stared at her with bright blue eyes.
The other prisoners squatted beside him. Their chains clanked as they settled themselves. One, a smaller fellow with dark hair that beetled back from a low forehead, said to the conductor, “Oy! I wants my breakfast!”
“Yeh,” the man next to him agreed. There were grunts of agreement from the others. Miriam reflected that she could do with some food herself.
The conductor emitted a short bark of laughter. “What would you lot prefer today, the poached eggs or smoked kippers? Or perhaps just buttered toast? Get out of it.” He aimed a kick at the dark one and left, still chuckling. After a minute, the train screeched and began to move again.
The dark haired man nodded and said, “I didn’t expect no more than a pig’s squeal. Still, no harm in asking.”
“That’s right, Frank,” the one with blue eyes agreed. He looked at Miriam again and asked, “And who might you two be?”
“We are –” Miriam began, but Simon interrupted her with his own explanation.
“We were put on this train by mistake. As soon as we arrive at our destination, we’ll let a person of authority know of the error. Naturally, we’ll be sent back to my parents right away.”
Frank hooted. “Hark at Young Muck!” he said, baring his gums. Miriam saw, with a shudder, that most of his back teeth were missing. Simon opened his mouth again, but he obviously decided not to reply.
Blue Eyes stared at them with an unblinking stare. “You ain’t going anywhere, either of yiz,” he said after a moment’s thought. “You’re on your way to Devil’s Kitchen, sure as eggs.”
Devil’s Kitchen! The name made a horrible chill slide down Miriam’s spine. “What is Devil’s Kitchen?”
“Where you’re going,” Frank said. “Shouldn’t doubt you’ll be there the rest of your days, running the mills and sweeping the floors.”
“Packing the cases and driving the nails,” the man next to him agreed. He had a scar that ran right down his face, from eye to chin, that snaked across nose and mouth.
“Carrying the water and sifting the sludge,” the last man said. His voice was nothing but a hoarse whisper.
“Saying goodbye to fancy balls and servants,” Blue Eyes said with a last chuckle. “Now, stow it, lads. I want to catch a few winks.” He leaned back and closed his eyes, and the rest of them fell silent, although Frank leered at Miriam whenever she looked at him.
Obviously, she reflected, Blue Eyes was the leader, if you could call it that. She noticed that although his head also struck the back of the carriage when the train began to pick up speed, it didn’t wake him at all. He must have been exhausted; indeed, all of the men had dark shadows smeared under their eyes.
Simon sat upright rigidly. Miriam stole a peep at his face and saw that he was doing the same thing as her: trying not to look at the men. He must have been embarrassed by the reference to his posh accent, and he tried to hide it by with
a scowl at her when she looked at him.
“What?” she asked. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Shut up,” he replied. A moment later, he whispered, “What do you think Devil’s Kitchen is?”
“No idea, but it doesn’t sound too promising.”
He sighed. “A masterful understatement.”
“Well of all the-” she started, when Frank interrupted.
“What are you two on about? Blowing kisses in her ear, are yeh? Eh, young buck? Couldn’t I just show you how to fancy a girl in my time? Couldn’t I just!” He winked outrageously at Simon and let a pink slice of tongue show through his teeth.
A slew of responses tripped to Miriam’s tongue (“Be quiet, you horrible, dirty old man; I wouldn’t let him blow kisses in my ear if he begged for it; mind your own business, you old leatherhead,”) but she foresaw a losing fight as the only possible result of any argument with Frank. With great self-control, she kept her mouth closed.
Simon was probably going through the same inner battle. His face turned purple from the effort. Frank must have seen this, as he chuckled, leaned over the man with the scar, and nudged Hoarse Voice.
“Lay off it, Frank,” Hoarse Voice wheezed.
Frank opened his mouth to retort, but the train rounded a turn and began to slow down.
“Maybe we’re almost there,” Miriam said.
“At last,” Simon responded. “I can talk to someone with some education and let them know what severe trouble they are in.”
“I just want to know what happened to Mana.” Miriam tried not to shiver.
The door to the carriage opened again, and the guard thrust his head in. “On your feet, you lot,” he said to the prisoners. “You too.” He nudged Miriam with one toe.
“Leave her alone!” Simon spluttered, but the guard had already left. “Idiot,” he said to the closed door.
“It’s all right,” Miriam said. “Soon you’ll be able to talk to someone in charge, as you keep saying.”
The prisoners stood up slowly. Miriam could hear their joints crack as they straightened their spines. Blue Eyes opened his eyes with a slight snore and came to instant awareness; he stretched and rose to his feet.
“Perhaps we had better get up,” Simon said in a low voice to Miriam. “I want to be prepared for whatever comes next.”
The train slowed further and stopped with a jerk. This caused Simon, Miriam and the prisoners to tilt forward and snap back upright. The door opened again and the guard shouted, “All out! Come on, you horrible lot!”
Blue Eyes took this in stride. He pushed Frank and the others slightly and they began to move out, their steps shortened by the chains around their ankles. Miriam waited until they had left, and she got up and followed them.
“Have a nice stay,” the guard said as Miriam passed him. He winked and elbowed her as she passed by him.
Oh, for heaven’s sake, Miriam thought. She ignored him as she followed the line of men, and the guard walked close behind her and Simon.
“Going to buy me a present?” The odious guard stepped right behind Simon’s shoulder. “After all, you’ve got connections in high places, don’t you, young muck? Hope you brought your paint-box for some fancy watercolors! Won’t want to forget a minute of your stay.” He continued in this vein, and Miriam could feel Simon get warmer with aggravation. Be quiet, Simon, she willed. Don’t say a word.
Only one train door opened to the outside. Another conductor pointed the way off the train. “Exit this way, you lot,” he said to Blue Eyes and the prisoners. The men kept their heads down in stoic silence and descended, and after a moment, Miriam and Simon followed. The sky overhead was dark with clouds, and it had started to rain. The drops sluiced down her neck with a weary intensity.
The train had stopped, not at a station, but at the back of the back of a large, dark brick factory. The rails ran behind the place, separating it from a scrubby field filled with gorse and what looked like bits of old washing that had been torn off someone’s line with the wind. Miriam stepped over the train rails and stood behind the other prisoners.
The building in front of them was surrounded by stone that was dark as slate. The factory was the largest structure in the mean little street, and it had several large, doors set into its dripping, dank walls. It had to be the place known as Devil’s Kitchen.
One of the gates opened, and someone stepped out. Miriam stretched on tiptoe to see, but a trick of the light or the lack of it caused the person to look like a tall, dark silhouette against the brick wall. The face was entirely in shadow, until it turned to her, and the eyes flashed, the only visible feature.
Miriam gasped and stepped back. Simon put a hand on her sleeve and whispered, “That must be the one who is in control here. We’ll be home in time for tea, just like I’ve said all along.”
“Just a second,” Miriam hissed and grabbed his sleeve. “I’ve seen this place before. I know I have.”
“Bring them here to the gates,” the figure declaimed in a somber voice, and Miriam realized that it actually was a very tall woman. The conductors prodded the chained prisoners and pushed Simon and Miriam, and they all shuffled towards the figure.
The figure looked down at them. Her hair, what there was of it, was scraped back from a face so bony as to appear skinless and bloodless. Her eyes were a light color, but the brows were heavy and black, descending towards the brow in accusing question marks. Hoarse Voice, who was first in line, stopped abruptly, and the other prisoners bumped into each other. Frank immediately said to the man behind him, “Oy, watch it!”
The woman’s dark, bloodless head snapped towards him. The dark, little man was watched in silence for a long moment, and she spoke to someone behind the door. “That one,” she said.
Two huge guards appeared behind her. “Yes, Headmistress,” one said. They lumbered towards Frank and gripped him with huge hands, and pulled him into the dark, brick building. The other prisoners followed by necessity, as they were all still connected by thick chains.
There were no more complaints.
The Headmistress’ light eyes regarded Miriam and Simon. “What is this?” she asked. “We didn’t expect the girl just yet, and the boy shouldn’t be here at all.”
One of the conductors answered with a shrug. “They was dumped on the train back where we rounds the coast, weren’t they. We was told to bring ‘em, so we brung ‘em.” The other conductor nodded in agreement.
Simon stepped forward and held out his right hand. “Good day, madam,” he said. “My name is Simon Marchpane, and there has been a terrible mistake.” She ignored his proffered hand, and after a moment he stuffed it in his pocket. “My father is a businessman,” he continued, clearing his throat, “an extremely wealthy business man, and he’ll be wondering where we are. I’m certain that the authorities are on a hunt for us now.”
The Headmistress stared for a moment longer, and she spoke again to the door. “This one as well,” she said.
Another huge guard appeared and bore down on Simon. “Wait!” Miriam cried. “Just listen to him for a moment – it’s the truth!” She stopped.
The guard’s enormous fist exploded outward, caught Simon on the edge of his jaw, and dropped him to the alley. The guard watched him fall without expression, and Miriam bit down, hard, on her tongue so she wouldn’t scream. The man picked up the boy, tossed him over one shoulder, and followed the other guards and the prisoners into Devil’s Kitchen.
The Headmistress and Miriam confronted each other. The woman stretched out one long arm and gripped the girl’s shoulder. “Come inside. Be quiet. Not one word. You have now seen what will happen if you try to speak.”
Miriam stumbled through the door. Just before it slammed shut behind her, she saw the marks on the dark wood. They were long scratches, and they looked as if they had been made by human nails.