‘Of course, m’ lady,’ Mr Goode replied coldly, only barely managing to suppress his volcanic rage. ‘Michael, get William up into the flue now, there’s a good lad.’
‘You’re going to ‘ave to buff it, Will,’ Michael said with a worried look in his eyes. ‘It’s the only way you’ll fit into that tiny space.’
‘Hurry up and strip down for God’s sake, you little fool!’ Mr Goode shouted, momentarily losing his grip on the tenuous hold with which he kept his temper at bay.
Another painful scream resounded down the chimney. This one, though, sounded a lot weaker than the previous one, and William needed no further encouragement to remove his ragged trousers and shirt.
‘Cor blimey,’ one of the servants exclaimed upon seeing his naked body, every inch of which was blackened with soot. ‘This poor little urchin’s as black as Hades, he is!’
‘He certainly is, Judith,’ the lady replied disapprovingly. ‘Sir, when did you last give these poor children a bath? It is my understanding that they were entrusted to you in the knowledge that you would care for them and feed, clothe and educate them as adequately as possible. Seeing the state of this poor orphan’s complete lack of cleanliness, and the fact that I can count each and every one of his ribs, so prominently are they displayed through his skin, indicates to me that you care not a jot for this boy’s well-being.’
‘I, er, I, hum, try my best to, er, properly, care for these scu-, rat-, um, er, children, within me extremely modest means, m’lady,’ Mr Goode stammered, greasy sweat oozing from the enlarged pores all over his face. ‘It’s just that I, er, well it’s um—’
‘Enough sir,’ responded the woman with a haughty disdain. ‘It is clear to me that your greed and self-interest trump any supposed concerns you have for their welfare. Now be silent! Your muttering and stuttering only serve to shame you further.’
‘Yes m’lady,’ Mr Goode murmured, uncharacteristically meek.
William, meanwhile, had managed to climb a good way up the flue. As tiny as his shoulders were, they could barely fit inside the narrow space, and a wave of claustrophobia was beginning to wash its rapidly rising tide over him. A wail and a low, terrified moan echoed through the cramped space above him, and the resignation and defeat he heard in that sound spurred him on to push through the paralysing barrier of fear.
‘I’m coming for you, Davy,’ he shouted as he clambered up the tunnel, forcing his way through this dark, suffocating hell. ‘I’m coming for you!’
He scrambled and pulled as hard as he could, with blood running freely down his shins and forearms from the frantic effort.
‘Come on Will,’ came a shout of encouragement from Michael below. ‘You can get ‘im out, you can!’
Another moan echoed in a phantasmagorical tone through the cloying dark, this one even weaker than the last one.
‘Davy, can you ‘ear me?’ William gasped, redoubling his efforts to ascend the flue. ‘Just tell me a word, so that I know you can ‘ear me!
In response there was only a whimpering wail that trailed off into a soft gurgle. The vocalisation sounded as if it were just above him, and the knowledge that he was almost upon David gave William one final burst of energy.
‘I’m nearly there, Davy, nearly there!’
At that moment, William’s hand touched something slick which made him slip a little, and his heart leaped into his mouth as he almost lost his grip on the bricks.
Blood.
He knew then that Davy must be close, and that he must have been struggling with a frightful effort. As he was almost upon the tiny boy, though, William heard a whisper that chilled his bones.
‘Mummy,’ the child whispered. ‘I can see you! I’ve missed you so much, mummy…’
‘It’s me Will, not your mum!’ William shouted. ‘I’m ‘ere Davy, I’m ‘ere, just let me grab your leg, come on!’
His words were met with an eerie silence. In just a few more seconds he reached the boy and felt his fingertips brush against his friend’s foot, which was wet with blood. Driven by urgency, he gripped Davy’s feet and pulled with all his might. His friend did not make a sound, though, despite the immense pain that Williams exertions must have been inflicting upon him.
‘Come on Davy, push! ‘Elp me ‘ere an’ push!’
No movement came from above. William panted and groaned, his jaw clenched tight as he heaved and pulled at David’s minuscule feet. Then, without warning, the limp mass above him popped out of the space in which it had been wedged, and the two bodies slid with alarming acceleration down the flue. William screamed in fright as he tried to slow his descent. In desperation he pressed hard against the bricks, which tore at his elbows and knees with the ferocity of a mechanical sander, until after a few seconds of fiery agony, his plummeting descent was slowed to a semi-controlled slide.
Despite his attempts to slow his fall, though, he hit the bend near the bottom of the flue with an impact so hard that it knocked the wind out of him and dazed his senses. Through his semi-stupor he felt Michael’s hands gripping his legs and pulling him out of the fireplace, and in a state of half-consciousness, as if mired fast in the wispy cobwebs of a dream, he could feel himself being carried somewhere. But also, through the haze, he was able to discern tribulations of sorrow and loss, and with a sinking heart he realised that his effort had been in vain.
William’s years since the passing of his mother had been filled with death and sadness, and he had seen many of the orphans wither away and pass into the Otherworld, consumed and made shadows by the ravages of malnutrition, overwork and disease. Even after he had been purchased from the parish house by Mr
