Is by Joan Aiken

Author:Joan Aiken [Joan Aiken]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House
Published: 1993-06-16T16:00:00+00:00

Aunt Ishie was deeply distressed, next day, when she came home from her charitable errand to find Grandpa Twite flat out on his bed and reeking of spirits.

‘Oh, how I wish he would give up these terrible drinking bouts. Indeed, I quite thought he had; he has not indulged like this for many months.’

She looked regretfully at the old man, who was snoring like a traction engine.

‘He will be so sorry when he wakes. He always is.’

‘Couldn’t you throw out all his liquor while he’s swiped off?’ suggested Is.

‘No, we tried that once. But he would only brew up some more. He cannot endure to think that there is none ready at hand, although he touches it so rarely.’

‘But when he does – croopus!’

Is and Doctor Lemman had come back for the noon meal. While they were swallowing their soup, a black Maria, drawn by two black cobs, drew up in the Lane outside.

A crease appeared in Ishie’s back-sloping brow. ‘Now what is Roy up to?’ she wondered.

To the pair of officials who came to the door she said: ‘If you want my father, it is no use at all. You are wasting your time. He is asleep and will be for hours yet. Tell my nephew – tell the Moderator that.’

‘It ain’t the old cove we want,’ said one of the constables. ‘It’s the young lass.’

‘For pity’s sake – what for?’

They shrugged. ‘None of our business. “Bring her,” he said.’

‘Me?’ said Is. ‘You mean me?’

One of the men pulled out a requisition form. ‘See? Is Twite. His Nibs wishes to parley with you.’

‘Don’t let him fuss you, that’s all, dearie,’ advised Lemman. ‘You stand up for yourself.’ His tone was calm, but his eyes were anxious.

Is rather wished, as the black cab approached Gold Kingy’s residence, that her clothes were in better condition. The fur jacket that Penny had made her (what a long time ago that seemed!) was now very worn and greasy. And the grandeur of Uncle Roy’s palace was daunting, with its row of pink granite pillars all along one side of Twite Square.

However, she jumped out of the carriage displaying what she hoped was a bold and carefree countenance.

Two more men, dressed as ushers in dark green with white gloves and stocks, were waiting to lead her inside and down a long hall.

All these big strapping coves just idling around, thought Is; they could use ’em better in the foundries.

‘His Grace will receive her in the Audience Chamber,’ somebody said.

The Audience Chamber was on the ground floor and was modelled (so Lemman told Is later) on the palace of a Mogul prince.

Gold Kingy sat perched in a seat on top of a pillar in the centre of the chamber. The pillar (about the height of two men) was connected by four arched stone bridges with a gallery that ran round the sides of the room. And the throne on which Roy sat was made to revolve so that, when the hall down below was full of people, he could rotate himself and speak to anybody below, wherever he chose.

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