Edie and the Box of Flits by Kate Wilkinson

Author:Kate Wilkinson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bonnier Publishing Fiction

Chapter Twenty-Five

Baker Street

E

die stood by the main door. She couldn’t speak. The whole Lost Property Office was in chaos and the shelves of the Cabinet of Valuables were almost completely empty.

It was then that she remembered Nid. She hadn’t seen him since the magpins burst out of the sack. She stood up and felt in her pocket for the green leather glove, but it wasn’t there so she ran back down to the basement and scoured the floor, hoping it had fallen out. Gloves were scattered everywhere and the trumpet from before lay on its side.

‘Nid!’ she cried. ‘Where are you?’

She ran to and fro, lifting chairs and raking through smashed china. She crawled under the sorting table where the gloves had been to see if the green glove was there. Once again she heard the tip-tapping of Vera’s shoes, this time running down the stairs, so she withdrew further under the table and hid behind a crate. The footsteps paused at the bottom, presumably to check if anyone was around. Edie could see through the slats of the crate that Vera was still in her overcoat and hat, and she was also carrying a bag. She strode down the corridor between the two big storerooms and Edie heard the distinctive clang of the door to the Storeroom at the End and then silence. Edie waited for a few minutes and then crawled out from under the table and stood up. What if she had Nid in that bag? Or Shadwell was holding the glove in his awful jabbing beak? She followed Vera as silently as she could and listened at the door to the Storeroom at the End. She must be in there. Where else could she be? There was no other way out and Edie would confront her.

She unhitched the catch and pushed open the heavy iron door, but the storeroom was in darkness. She switched on the fluorescent lights. The items on the shelves sat still and mute. She called out to Nid, but there was no one there. The Storeroom at the End was completely empty. Vera had disappeared.

*

A strangled cry came from overhead. Dad had arrived back from London Bridge. Edie scurried up the stairs to find him staring at the Lost Property Office in disbelief as the door clattered shut behind him.

‘What on earth has happened?’

‘I-I don’t know,’ she stammered. ‘They were in a sack and I let them out.’

‘WHO was in a sack?’

‘I-it was birds, Dad. I told you before . . .’

Benedict appeared from the basement storerooms, flushed with excitement and carrying a huge fly swatter.

‘It was like a force field going through the office, Mr Winter. A real invasion. Everything flying everywhere. Maybe they’re extraterrestrial?’

‘Extraterrestrials? Don’t be daft, Benedict,’ said Dad. ‘How on earth do we even begin to clear this mess up?’ He looked dismally at the umbrellas scattered on the floor like spillikins and pointed a shaky finger at the Cabinet of Valuables with its glass door swinging open.

Even

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