To Get You in the Festive Mood…

…I’ve written a short story. *Jingle Jingle!*

Well, to be entirely fair, I was asked to write a short story by the wonderful Amy at Golden Books Girl, who is and has been such a champion of me and my work for many years now. She is running a Christmas-themed event on her blog this year, and I am one of the lucky people invited to contribute.

One of the suggestions Amy made was to write a Christmas-themed story based on my characters, or a Christmas scene in the world of one of my books, and as soon as she gave me those suggestions I knew straight away what I wanted to write. Y’see, I have more stories to tell about the family wot lives at Widget Manor. I have further adventures I’d like to bring them on. But – publishing being what it is – I will, in all likelihood, never get a chance to tell those stories in full, at least not in published form.

So, Amy’s invitation came at just the right time.

Christmas at Widget Manor is, if you like, a mini-farewell to some of the dearest, most interesting, most loved characters I’ve ever come up with. It’s me wishing them well, hoping for their happiness, and sending them on to their next adventure (because I know there are more adventures to come, for that lot).

I very much hope you read and enjoy the story – here’s the link again, just in case you missed it – and that if you do, that you take the time to follow Amy and/or send her a word of thanks for setting up her Golden Christmas blog event. I know I, for one, am very grateful. And, if you’d like to read the books that come before this story, starting with Skyborn and continuing with The Eye of the North, click on the book titles and you’ll find links to purchase them.

And with that – on with the show!

Image by Chad Madden via Unsplash

Skyborn Is Published!

Today is June 10th, 2021. For many, that won’t mean much. But for me?

Today’s the day my third – third! – novel publishes with Little Tiger Press. *shocked and amazed emoji face*

Skyborn is released into the world today. It’s available wherever you get your books (ideally, a bookshop… a real one, in a proper building, with tax-paying staff and proper toilet breaks and all that stuff… but no judgement if you choose otherwise) and I very much hope this book reaches an audience, that it’s read and enjoyed and that it brings a sparkle of magic and wonder to the world.

Skyborn cover, designed by Sophie Bransby and drawn by Sara Mulvanny, published by Little Tiger Press, 2021

Skyborn is a prequel to my first book, The Eye of the North, and tells the story of Thing (who you might remember from The Eye of the North) during his earlier life, before we get a chance to meet him in Eye. If you’ve read Eye you’ll know that, in that book, we follow Thing – a mysterious character with no proper name, and fragmented recollections of his family – as he travels to Greenland in the company of the brave Emmeline in order to try to save the world. Skyborn takes the reader back to those fragmented recollections, fleshing them out into the full-bodied story of Thing’s childhood in a circus and his discovery of a deeply-buried secret from his mother’s past which threatens his own future, and that of everyone he loves…

As Skyborn is a prequel to The Eye of the North, please don’t feel you have to have read the earlier book in order to read Skyborn. In fact, they work better the other way around! It’s great to finish one book and have the sequel ready to go.

All my books have been fun to write, and I’ve loved the creation of all of them in different ways, but Skyborn has been such a wonderful journey. It’s a book I never thought I’d write, a story that I discovered as I put it together, one that draws on the deep loves of my childhood in the same way as everything else I’ve ever written but which had the added benefit of being about a character I’d already created, and one that I already loved. Its circus setting comes straight from the circuses I found so magical as a child; the walled city with its long-held secrets is excavated from the stories and movies I adored growing up; the characters – particularly Crake, who I love so dearly – have threads of my own beloved people in them. All these shining flecks of the story were taken from my own strange story-cauldron where I keep all the ideas I get in the hope they’ll germinate into something wondrous. I think, in Skyborn, they truly have.

This is a book I’m proud of. Thank you, so much, for all the support you’ve given me since I began this writing dream almost a full decade ago. I’m (incredibly) on my fourth book – my third full-length novel – and I have no intention of stopping just yet. I hope you’ll stick with me as I figure out where to go next.

Now. Roll Up, Roll Up – you’ve got a front-row seat! The performance is about to begin, and The Skyborn Boy is ready to fly… Alley-oop!

Emmeline and the Ice-God, Chapter 16

In this instalment of Emmeline and her adventures, we see Thing getting crafty, Emmeline getting pushed to her limit, and a glimpse at the Baddie who is intent on using her to further his own ends.

Enjoy…

Image: walldime.com

Emmeline and the Ice-God

16

                ‘You ain’t leavin’ me behind!’ Thing’s teeth were set, and his eyes glittered. He clutched Emmeline’s satchel to his skinny chest like it was a lump of gold. ‘I ain’t lettin’ ya!’

‘Look, Thing, we can’t bring you with us! You have to understand!’ Sasha was busily packing away some sort of chart, so big that it would have covered a wall. Thing couldn’t read well enough to understand what was written on it, but a strange symbol near the top of the sheet caught his attention. It was like a large round eye with several wiggly ‘legs’ coming out of it. Something about it made him feel uneasy.

‘All I understand is that me, the only friend of the kid you’re all rushin’ about tryin’ to save, isn’t allowed to be part of rescuin’ her from whatever ridiculous situation she’s got herself into,’ snapped Thing, renewing his grip on the satchel. ‘I can help, you know! She trusts me!’

‘She doesn’t trust anyone, Thing,’ said Sasha, snapping the huge portfolio closed. She buckled it shut and slid it off the table and into a large case, along with several others. ‘She’s been raised that way.’

‘But she – she saved me, from that man –‘

‘She saved herself. You just happened to be there. Don’t you understand?’ Sasha turned and faced Thing, and placed her hands gently on his shoulders. She looked straight into his eyes, and Thing saw them soften and grow gentle. ‘I’m not trying to hurt your feelings, Thing. I’m sure Emmeline likes you well enough, but you’re not her friend. So, why don’t you go home and forget about all this, and let us take care of it from here?’

‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you,’ muttered Thing.

‘Pardon?’ said Sasha, confusion creasing her face.

‘Nothin’. Well, if you can’t bring me with you, will you at least tell me where you’re goin’?’

‘You know I can’t,’ said Sasha, straightening up and releasing her grip on Thing’s arms.

‘Does it ‘ave anythin’ to do with that weird eye-thing, on the map?’ said Thing, hazarding a guess.

‘What do you know about that?’ Sasha stood perfectly still, and Thing didn’t think he was imagining the look of frozen fear in her eyes.

‘Oh, you know,’ breezed Thing, improvising. ‘Only what Ems told me.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ snapped Sasha. ‘Emmeline is completely ignorant of anything to do with that map.’

‘Sure about that, are ya?’

‘Yes,’ said Sasha, but Thing saw a tiny twitch at the corner of her mouth that told him she was lying.

‘Interestin’,’ said Thing. Just then, Edgar came back into the room. Someone had rebandaged his arm, and given him some sort of pain-killing medication. His colour was back, and there was a sparkle in his eye.

‘Are you ready?’ he asked Sasha. ‘We’ll be docking within the hour, and we won’t have time to waste. We’ll need to get to – Oh. Hello,’ he said, finally noticing Thing. ‘What are you still doing here?’ He smiled down at him, and only his twitching fingers gave away his impatience.

‘I were just tellin’ Sasha ‘ere about Emmeline and the wavy eye,’ he said, straightening his back. ‘Nothin’ important.’

‘Emmeline and the what?’ he said, glancing up at Sasha.

‘The sun is warm,’ said Sasha, cryptically, focusing on Edgar.

‘But there is ice on the breeze,’ he finished, blinking.

‘Er – right,’ said Thing, into the silence that followed this strange exchange. ‘Anyway. We was discussin’ my role in the rescuin’ of Emmeline, actually, just as you so rudely barged in.’

‘Your role?’ said Sasha, snapping out of whatever spell she’d been in and staring back down at Thing. ‘You don’t have a role!’

‘That’s not what this says.’ Thing nodded down at the satchel in his hands.

‘That’s nothing! That’s simply Emmeline’s bag – all it has in it are her tricks, her gimmicks, her – her little means of keeping herself safe!’ Sasha frowned, throwing her hands up in the air.

‘Yeah, that,’ agreed Thing, ‘and also some very interestin’ papers on – ice.’ He felt his way into the next thought, very carefully. ‘Ice, and stuff what lives in it.’ Sasha’s eyes burst open like someone had slapped her on the back.

‘Are you – do you even – what are you talking about?’

‘Guess you’ll have to bring me along. ‘Sfar too much to explain before the ship makes landfall,’ said Thing, with a sniff.

                 ‘But – what about your parents? Your family?’ asked Edgar. He laid a strong, warm hand on Thing’s shoulder. ‘Won’t they worry?’

‘Shouldn’t think my parents’ve worried about me for about ten years or so,’ he said. Edgar blinked.

‘How old are you, Thing?’

‘Not sure, ‘xactly. ‘Bout twelve, there-thereabouts.’ He didn’t trust himself to look up, but he felt Edgar and Sasha share a look, one that was full of stuff that grownups did, tears and pity and disgust and all that stuff. Thing had long learned to ignore it.

‘Well – look. If we bring you – and it’s only an if – will you tell us everything that Emmeline discussed with you?’ Edgar’s words had sharp edges.

‘We need to see those documents!’ hissed Sasha.

‘Yeah, yeah,’ said Thing, his heart beginning to race again – not that you’d have known it to look at him. He kept his voice low and bored, and even chanced a yawn. ‘Whatever. Just let me come, yeah? I’ll be useful. Swear.’

‘Fine,’ said Sasha, trying to mask a yawn of her own behind her hand. ‘Come. But I’m not taking responsibility for you.’

‘That suits me fine,’ said Thing, who didn’t know what it felt like to have someone else take responsibility for him. ‘Now. Finally. Will someone tell me where we’re goin’?’

 **

                Hours were passing in Emmeline’s prison, but she had no way of knowing how many. All she knew was the cold was growing stronger, like a wild animal getting more and more enraged. It had started biting at her a long time ago, taking mouthfuls of her warmth away with it and devouring them, leaving Emmeline with nothing but her bare bones. An empty dish lay beside her, which had been filled with warm porridge-y gruel a while back – Emmeline had eaten it, but it hadn’t helped to take away the gnawing inside. She was in a constant state of half-asleep, never sure if what she was seeing or hearing was real, or dredged up out of the depths of her mind.

Vaguely, she heard a clatter, and a gust of bitter wind on her face.

‘Girl! Look lively, down there. The boss wants to speak to ya. Are ya decent?’ Emmeline didn’t reply, because the words didn’t seem to make any sense. The voice was coming from far away, bending and distorting as it travelled, until it reached her ears sounding hollow and twisted. It wouldn’t sit comfortably in her mind, so she ignored it. She was feeling tired, and just wanted to sleep. If she could only sleep, everything would be all right…

‘Woohoo! Girlie! Wakey wakey!’ Emmeline didn’t hear this, and so she didn’t move. ‘Here, Joe – she’s not doin’ anythin’. Give us a hand with this, willya?’ One of the men dropped down into Emmeline’s compartment, catching his breath at how cold it felt down there. For a split second he gazed at Emmeline’s small form, her bare legs beneath her grubby dress and her light jacket which didn’t even fasten properly, and shivered inside his heavy winter coat.

‘Get ‘er up here, Baker!’ called a voice from above, snapping him out of his thoughts. Quickly, he bent and picked Emmeline up, and within a few seconds she’d been handed out through the trapdoor and laid out on a couch in the body of the ship. Her skin was ice-cold to the touch, and her eyes were firmly fixed shut. The bits of her skin that could be seen were a uniform grey, and her breaths were shallow.

‘This is your fault, y’know,’ one of the men barked at another. ‘If you hadn’t insisted on getting started with that card game, we’d never have forgotten to check on the kid.’

‘My fault? That’s rich! Whose idea was it to put her in the fish store in the first place? I believe – and correct me if I’m wrong – that it was yours!’

‘Now, look here –‘ began the other man, his face reddening, but he never got to finish his sentence.

‘If one of you fools doesn’t get that child covered up and warm, this instant, you’ll all be forcibly unshipped in Newfoundland without a stitch of clothing.’ Nobody moved. ‘And I will not be paying any of you so much as a red cent.’ Instantly, the cabin was alive with movement. Someone grabbed a blanket and wrapped Emmeline snugly in it while someone else started warming up the stove to make her some soup. A third dispatched himself to find some thick clothing, and a fourth threw some sticks into the furnace. Gradually, some pink began to creep back into Emmeline’s face and her eyes started to move, ever so slowly, behind her eyelids.

‘Gentlemen. I want you all to feel for this child as though she were your own,’ announced the pale-faced man, looking around at the scar-faced, tattooed, gap-toothed crew he’d gathered around him. ‘On second thought, actually, I will say this: I’d like you all to feel for this child as though she were the only, treasured daughter of your employer – which, in so many ways, she is – and I want you all to know that whatever harm comes to this child will be revisited upon your own persons, times ten. If she freezes to death, you will be encased in a glacier having first been whipped raw. If she starves, you will be force-fed snow until you burst. If a hand is laid upon her body with the intent to cause her pain, that man will lose all four of his limbs and be left on the ice – alive, mind you – as a snack for the next passing polar bear. Am I clear?’ The listening men stood to attention, each of them focused utterly on the weird white-skinned man they’d allowed to convince them to come north. At this time of year? some of them had scoffed. He must be mad! But he’d shown them all the colour of his money, and, one by one, they’d caved.

And now, here they were.

‘As ice, sir,’ said one. ‘Clear as ice.’

‘Wonderful,’ he replied. ‘Don’t disturb me again until she wakes.’

Emmeline and the Ice-God, Chapter 8

Last week, we read about Emmeline and Thing’s first meeting; after this initial encounter, Thing returns to Emmeline’s cabin and convinces her to run all over the ship in search of adventure (and, more importantly, food.) When they return to her cabin they find men – large men – ransacking it and throwing all her things overboard.

So, there’s nothing for it but to make a run for it, this time to Thing’s ‘cabin’ (really, a long-forgotten junk room way below decks), where they are hiding out…

Image: linda-hoang,com

Emmeline and the Ice-God

Chapter 8

Emmeline woke up to find the candle reduced to a mere disc of wax on an old cracked saucer. Thing was gone, but he’d tucked the rest of the blanket over her before he left. With a jolt, she remembered her satchel, and flipped herself over so she could check on it – but it was there, all right, and looking exactly the same as it had the day before.

Check it, said a little voice in her head. Check that everything’s in it that should be in it. But she told that voice to shut up, and busied herself getting herself and their corner tidy, ready for Thing to come back.

As it turned out, that didn’t take very long.

Emmeline had just finished folding away the blanket when Thing came barrelling back into the room like Genghis Khan was on his heels. He slammed the door closed behind him, and with fumbling hands he replaced their security mop.

‘Hey! Is everything –‘

‘Sssht! Whoop!’ said Thing, putting a finger to his lips.

‘But – ‘

‘Ssssh!’ He strode over to her and put one hot, sweaty and filthy hand over her mouth. His eyes were huge, the brown pupil surrounded by a sea of white all around, and Emmeline didn’t think she was imagining the trembling she could feel in Thing’s fingers. He turned back toward the door, whooping quietly, trying to catch his breath. After a few minutes of silence, he ushered Emmeline back toward their corner, where they huddled.

‘The whole – whoop – ship is looking for you,’ he said. ‘Everyone.’

‘Me? Why?’ Emmeline couldn’t imagine an entire shipful of people caring one way or the other about where she was.

‘A missing kid? On a Northern Jewel cruise ship? Whoop? It’s big news.’

‘But I’m not missing! I’m here!’

‘Yes, idiot. But nobody else knows that.’

‘I’m not an idiot.’ Emmeline’s lower lip started to wobble a bit, despite her best efforts to control it.

‘Sorry. Whoop.’ Thing’s breaths were calming, but they still sounded thick and gloopy.

‘Do you have asthma, or something?’ Emmeline asked, wondering if it was catching.

‘Somethin’,’ replied Thing, enigmatically. ‘Forget me. What are we goin’ to do about you?’

‘What about me?’ Emmeline reached for her satchel, absent-mindedly, but it was just out of reach. Thing grabbed her hand.

‘Pay attention, Ems,’ he said. ‘This is important.’

So is my satchel! Emmeline thought, the words lashing across her brain like a whip. ‘Should we go to the captain and tell him –‘

‘Are you out o’ your tree?’ whispered Thing, his voice sharpening to a squeak. ‘The captain? He’d announce it to the whole ship, and then, d’you know what’d happen?

‘People – people would stop looking for me?’ Thing rolled his eyes at Emmeline’s words.

‘Yeah, that. An’ those two brutes who were wreckin’ your room last night would know exac’ly where you were. Right? Not a lot of places to run, on a ship.’

‘Oh,’ said Emmeline, in her littlest voice.

‘Yeah. Oh. So, we got to keep you hid, at least until we reach Paree. After that, well…’ Thing rubbed at his face with a grubby hand. ‘After that, not even my brain power knows what t’do.’

‘I have to meet someone in Paris,’ said Emmeline, quickly. ‘I have an address to go to, and a person to ask for, a person who’s going to… who’s going to…’

‘Who’s goin’ to what?’ Thing’s eyes were glittering in the dim light.

‘Who’s going to look after me, now that my parents… now that they’re gone.’ A few seconds passed, and they were silent but they were very, very full.

‘Right,’ said Thing. ‘Well, we gotta get you off the ship in Paree without anyone seein’ ya, and without anyone shoutin’ for a copper. We can do that.’ In the silence that followed this, Emmeline’s stomach rumbled as loudly as a round of applause in a packed theatre.

‘Gosh, excuse me,’ she said, clutching at her middle.

‘Got just the thing for that, right here,’ said Thing, reaching into one of his many pockets. When he withdrew his hand, it held two small croissants and several miniature chocolate rolls, which were covered with a dusting of icing sugar. Emmeline’s mouth watered instantly, and Thing let her have first choice.

‘Where did you get these?’ she asked through a mouthful of sweet dough.

‘Found ‘em, just lyin’ around. Funny, that,’ replied Thing.

‘Hmm,’ said Emmeline, but she didn’t stop eating.

As soon as she’d swallowed the last crumb, Emmeline realised she had a problem that needed her immediate attention, and it wasn’t something she felt she could discuss with Thing.

‘So, ah. I need to go out?’ she said, hoping he’d understand what she meant.

‘Go out?’ he repeated, raising his eyebrows. Without warning, he brought his face right up beside Emmeline’s, causing her to pull her head back, whacking it painfully off the wall. ‘Hold still, will ya,’ he muttered. ‘I’m tryin’ to look down your ear’ole, figure out if somethin’s blockin’ the words I am sayin’ to ya.’ He took her head between his hands and angled it back and forth, peering into her ear like some sort of make-believe doctor, until Emmeline shook herself out of his grip. Thing grabbed her chin and forced her to face him. ‘Looks clear, but there must be somethin’ not gettin’ through. I’ll say it again, then: the whole ship is lookin’ for ya. Right? So, goin’ out is not really somethin’ you should be considerin’, all told.’ He let go of her chin and sat back a little, grumbling to himself.

‘But I have to,’ she said. ‘I have to – you know!’

‘You have to what?’ Thing’s attention was already wandering. He slouched over to where Emmeline had neatly folded the blanket and shook it out again, before settling himself on the floor and tucking it around his legs.

‘I have to attend to something,’ said Emmeline, through her gritted teeth. ‘Something private!’ Thing’s frown gradually smoothed out as he thought about this, and Emmeline watched as his eyes opened wide. A small grin tickled the corners of his mouth.

‘Oh – right!’ said Thing, in an over-loud voice. ‘That. Well – yeah. I hadn’t considered that, right enough.’

‘What do you do when you want to – you know?’

‘When I want to go to the toilet, you mean?’ said Thing, pleasantly. Emmeline felt her cheeks tingle, and was glad of the semi-darkness. ‘Well, I just pick a corner and have at it, me.’

‘Well, that’s not going to work for me,’ said Emmeline, in a voice as crisp as a freshly laundered sheet. ‘So, what do you suggest?’

‘I can go out and liberate you a chamber pot,’ suggested Thing. ‘That any good?’

‘But I need to go now,’ said Emmeline. Her tummy was beginning to ache, and that was a bad sign.

‘All right, all right,’ sighed Thing, flinging the blanket off and hopping to his feet. He paused, and then looked at the blanket again, lying in a heap on the ground.

‘I’ve got an idea,’ he said, carefully. ‘O’course, it might be doomed to failure, but all we can do is give it a try. Right?’

‘Right,’ said Emmeline, getting to her feet. She stumbled as she rose, and Thing reached out a hand to steady her.

‘Woah, there! You all right?’

‘Fine,’ said Emmeline, dusting herself off. ‘You just have better sea legs than me, I suppose.’

‘Somethin’ like that,’ grinned Thing. ‘Now – you ready?’

Four minutes later, the door to their hideaway creaked open, slowly as a spoon through molasses. A curious-looking creature stuck out its head, and looked first up the corridor and then down it, and then up it again, and finally crept out on steady feet, heading for the stairs to the upper decks.

It was a short and bent-over creature, with what looked like a misshapen hunched back, dressed in a strange tartan robe with a fringed edge. It clutched an old walking stick (pilfered from the store room) and it wore a thoroughly odd top hat (also pilfered.)

‘What’s the point of goin’ out there in disguise,’ Thing had said, ‘unless we do it so over-the-top that nobody even dares to question it?’ Emmeline had looked dubious at this, but had said nothing. ‘Plus,’ Thing had continued, ‘if you walk with a cocky step an’ yer head held high, and you give off this air, right, this air that says ‘I know exac’ly what I’m doin’, mate, so what are you doin’ getting’ in my way?’ you can pretty much do anythin’ and go anywhere. Fact.’

‘If you say so,’ Emmeline had sighed, before clambering up on his back, her satchel tightly fastened to her front, and holding fast.

‘Let the adventurin’ begin,’ Thing had whispered, with a grin.

And so it had.