Free Elijah’s Mermaid by Essie Fox

his breath smelling oddly fiery and sweet when he murmured in his deep brown voice, ‘Sleep well, my dear. Tomorrow we all need to be our best. There is quite a surprise I have in mind.’
    ‘A surprise!’ Elijah was grinning at me.
    ‘Indeed, a surprise!’ Freddie echoed his words, and before I could think to blink or yawn my uncle had stepped away from me, he and Elijah descending the stairs to make their way back to the dining room – though at the turn of the landing below Freddie looked back and softly called, ‘If you wake . . . if youneed me during the night, my room is on the floor below . . . the one situated beneath your own.’
    I had no idea where Elijah was sleeping. Like Papa, he had not said goodnight and thinking of that I lifted a hand to touch my face, to where Freddie’s caress was tingling still and where, normally, Papa’s kiss would be. I felt myself oddly hot and flushed, slightly afraid to be alone, grown invisible on that upstairs hall. I felt as if all of Papa’s grief had leaked from his heart and under his door to form a puddle at my feet.
    Such confusion when I opened my eyes, unable to think where I could be; red flowery walls, and chintzy chairs, and the paintwork a gleaming emerald green – and a maid setting down a cup of hot chocolate, brightly announcing while next engaged in folding and sweeping back shutters and drapes, ‘I’ve been sent up to wake you. The others are already downstairs.’ And then, when heading out again, she looked back from the door with a sniff of disdain. ‘I do ’ope you’re not the flaky type, or you might get an ’eadache from sleeping in ’ere. But then, Mr Hall likes it cheerful and lively, what with being so lively and cheerful ’imself . . . a man of extravagant, colourful tastes.’
    I quite liked the room myself, though in the harsh glare of daylight I suppose it was rather gaudy. The thing that had unnerved me more was that maid being so familiar. But I very soon forgot about that, only wondering what the day might bring, quickly washed and dressed and heading downstairs from where masculine voices were rising up, and Uncle Freddie’s the loudest with words like ‘printers’ and ‘new publications’, all the business that he was discussing with Papa.
    The dining room was at the front of the house, very formal, rather gloomy and chill with its thick damask drapes and panels of lace preventing any view beyond – particularly the house standing opposite, the offices of Hall & Co., the door of which I fervently hoped we should never have cause to enter – knowing now how that would upset Papa, and not wanting to stir any memories that were better kept quiet, kept buried. And, on asomewhat cheerier note, those curtains created a barrier so that any of us who sat within were safely concealed from the street’s prying eyes – which was probably just as well with Freddie like a beacon in red, wearing a paisley smoking gown, and a sleeping cap with tassels of silk that hung very jauntily on one side. It made him look louche and theatrical. It made him look like a magician, the ensemble carried off with style – even if it would seem ridiculous on anyone less confident.
    Elijah and Papa were both attired in the same Sunday best from the day before, both seated on the left of our host at one end of a dark polished table. There, I thought Papa looked somehow diminished and no less exhausted than he had been when going to bed the previous night. His eyes were like two swollen bags of blood, his expression strained and very pale – but Elijah – my brother was nothing but smiles when glancing up to see me there, and Freddie – he was much the same, patting the empty chair on his right, saying, ‘Ah, and here is Lily. Our sleeping beauty wakes!’
    ‘Did a prince come to kiss her?’ My brother grinned though I pretended not to hear, smiling at Freddie and saying Hello!’ when I made a twirling entrance, two hands held wide to show off my