A Very Peculiar Plague by Catherine Jinks Read Free Book Online Page B

couldn’t help it. What with the wax-nosed dwarf, and the hairy giant, and the battling Birdies . . .
    ‘She ain’t here to take yer job,’ he told Bedelia, grinning from ear to ear. But Birdie quickly corrected him.
    ‘I’m here to make her stop being me,’ Birdie said, ‘and don’t care if she loses her job as a consequence.’
    By now Bedelia was starting to look confused. It was her companion, the little man in green, who suddenly exclaimed, ‘You don’t mean you’re Birdie McAdam? The real Birdie McAdam?’
    ‘Ain’t that what I just bin saying?’ Birdie replied crossly. Beside her, Miss Eames added, ‘This is a clear case of fraudulent impersonation. I shall take you to court if Birdie’s name is not removed from your advertisements by tomorrow morning. Do you understand, Mr Lubbock?’
    Mr Lubbock nodded. ‘Yes, of course,’ he assured her, with another greasy smile. ‘I had no wish to cause offence. But might I just ask—’
    ‘No, you may not,’ Miss Eames snapped. Bedelia, meanwhile, was gazing at Birdie in astonishment, open-mouthed and goggle-eyed.
    ‘You ain’t never the real Birdie,’ she protested. ‘You’re so young ! Ain’t she young, Rupert?’
    ‘She is,’ said the dwarf, nodding.
    ‘I’m eleven years old,’ Birdie stiffly informed them.
    ‘You’re such a bit of a thing, though – ain’t she, Rupert?’
    ‘A scrap,’ the dwarf confirmed.
    ‘And Rupert would know,’ Bedelia pointed out, ‘for he’s worked with some o’ the smallest, in his time.’
    Jem shot an inquiring glance at Rupert, wanting to hear more. But Miss Eames wasn’t interested in Rupert’s fairground memories. She reached for Birdie’s hand and said, ‘I see no reason to stay. We’ve delivered our message. You will no longer profit from Birdie’s name, Mr Lubbock, or you’ll be hearing from my solicitors. Good day to you, sir.’ She gave Birdie’s hand a tug, then frowned when there was no response. ‘Come along, dear. What’s the matter?’
    ‘Nothing,’ Birdie mumbled. Catching her eye, Jem pulled a sympathetic face. He knew in his heart that she wanted to pet the snake, chat to the dwarf, and examine the exhibits. Why not? He wanted to do it himself.
    Miss Eames, however, had no wish to stay. Not while a cab stood waiting outside. ‘We ought to get home,’ she told Birdie. ‘Whitechapel Road isn’t exactly a respectable place to be. Is it, Mr Bunce?’
    Alfred shook his head. ‘Off you go, lass,’ he said to Birdie. When she pouted, looking mulish, he fixed her with a flinty gaze. ‘Do as you’re told, now,’ he warned. ‘Miss Eames knows what’s best for you.’ Then he turned and motioned to Jem. ‘You too, lad. Come along.’
    ‘One moment, Mr Bunce.’ Stepping forward, Mr Lubbock managed to insert himself between Alfred and the door. ‘I wonder if you might be interested in a public appearance? On competitive terms, of course.’
    Alfred scowled. ‘Get out o’ me way,’ he rasped.
    ‘You’re a bogler, Mr Bunce. You’ve made a name for yourself. People would pay to see you at work.’ Before Alfred could do more than sniff, Mr Lubbock gestured at Bedelia. ‘A double act, perhaps? You wouldn’t have to do much. Your main contribution would be your name; my associate would take care of the rest. Why, she could be your new apprentice!’
    Jem bristled. ‘ I’m his new ’prentice. I’m a bogler’s boy,’ he said.
    ‘Indeed?’ For the first time, Mr Lubbock studied Jem with genuine interest. But Alfred shook his head sternly.
    ‘I ain’t going on no stage,’ he declared, ‘and neither is Jem.’
    ‘Then may I make another suggestion?’ As Alfred sidestepped him, trying to follow Miss Eames into the vestibule, Mr Lubbock began to talk very quickly. ‘Have you ever considered how valuable a bogle would be? People pay enormous sums to see tigers and elephants – only think how much they’d pay to see a real, live bogle!’ Before Alfred could sidle