The Illustrated Gormenghast Trilogy - Mervyn Peake [98]
‘Message from his Lordship, my Lady,’ he said; and then his eyes returned to the tea-tray.
‘Does he want me?’ said Fuchsia.
‘Lord Titus,’ said Flay, his eyes retaining upon their lenses the pot of tea, toasted scones, currant bread, butter, eggs and a jar of honey.
‘He wants little Titus, did you say?’ cried Mrs Slagg, trying to make her feet reach the ground.
Flay gave a mechanical nod. ‘Got to meet me, quadrangle-arch, half-past eight,’ added Flay, wiping his hands on his clothes.
‘He wants my little Lordship, whispered the old nurse to Fuchsia, who although her first antipathy to her brother had worn off had not acquired the same excited devotion which Nannie lavished upon the infant. ‘He wants my little wonder.’
‘Why not?’ said Flay and then relapsed into his habitual silence after adding: ‘Nine o’clock – library.’
‘Oh, my poor heart, he ought to be in bed by then,’ gulped the nurse; and clutched Titus even closer to her.
Fuchsia had been looking at the tea-tray as well.
‘Flay,’ she said, ‘do you want to eat anything?’
By way of reply the spidery servant made his way at once across the room to a chair which he had kept in the corner of his eye, and returned with it to seat himself between the two. Then he took out a tarnished watch, scowled at it as though it were his mortal enemy, and returned it to a secret recess among his greasy black clothes.
Nannie edged herself out of the chair and found a cushion for Titus to lie on in front of the fire, and then began to pour out the tea. Another cup was found for Flay, and then for a long while the three of them sat silently munching or sipping, and reaching down to the floor for whatever they needed but making no effort to look after each other. The firelight danced in the room, and the warmth was welcome, for outside or in the corridors the wet earthy draughts of the season struck to the marrow.
Flay took out his watch again and, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, arose to his feet. As he did so, he upset a plate at the side of his chair and it fell and broke on the floor. At the sound he started and clutched the back of the chair and his hand shook. Titus screwed his face up at the noise as though about to cry, but changed his mind.
Fuchsia was surprised at so obvious a sign of agitation in Flay whom she had known since her childhood and on whom she had never before noticed any sign of nerves.
‘Why are you shaking?’ she said. ‘You never used to shake.’
Flay pulled himself together and then sat down suddenly again, and turned his expressionless face to Fuchsia. ‘It’s the night,’ he said tonelessly. ‘No sleep, Lady Fuchsia.’ And he gave a ghastly mirthless laugh like something rusty being scraped by a knife.
Suddenly he had regained his feet again and was standing by the door. He opened it very gradually and peered through the aperture before he began to disappear inch by inch, and the door clicked finally upon him.
‘Nine o’clock,’ said Nannie tremulously. ‘What does your father want with my little Lordship at nine o’clock? Oh, my poor heart, what does he want him for?’
But Fuchsia, tired out from her long day among the dripping woods was once more fast asleep, the red firelight flickering to and fro across her lolling head.
THE LIBRARY
The library of Gormenghast was situated in the castle’s Eastern wing which protruded like a narrow peninsula for a distance out of all proportion to the grey hinterland of buildings from which it grew. It was from about midway along this attenuated East wing that the Tower of Flints arose in scarred and lofty sovereignty over all the towers of Gormenghast.
At one time this Tower had formed the termination of