Evangeline and the Bunyip: The Antics of Evangeline, #2

By Madeleine D'Este

Evangeline is back with another adventure with Balls, Bunyips and blancmange. 

In 1882, Melbourne is under threat from a fearsome Bunyip and The Argus announces a reward for the capture of the beast. But Evangeline is not afraid, this is a perfect chance for Evangeline to test out her new monster catching device and save the day. With help from her best friend, Mei, and plenty of raspberry tarts of course. 

Evangeline and the Bunyip is the second episode in The Antics of Evangeline series of mystery and mayhem set in steampunk Melbourne.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Madeleine D'Este
• Release date: Sep 16, 2016
• ISBN: 9780994604217

Book preview

Chapter 1

And another thing, Evangeline. You mustn't eat too much. There'll be ample food and I know you have a... healthy... appetite, Uncle Augie said.

Evangeline glanced at the buttery shortbread in her hand. What could Uncle Augie possibly mean? It was only her third.

It's rather unseemly for a lady to eat heartily in public, Augie continued.

Miss Plockton nodded vigorously.

Aye. Overeating in corsetry is very dangerous, she said. You dinnae want an attack of the vapours.

Or worse. Uncle Augie curled up his nose. I heard a terrible story of a young lady who was forced to 'evacuate' in the nearest potted palm. She didn't see the Duke of Windsor standing on the other side. One too many blancmanges. Let that be a lesson to you, Evangeline.

Evangeline sighed into her cup of coffee, then shoved the shortbread into her mouth whole.

Miss Plockton and Augie recoiled with a gasp, their hands fluttering to their chests.

I'll need my strength for tonight's Ball, Evangeline replied, but only after the delicious buttery treat was gone from her mouth. Evangeline would never win an award for deportment but she knew not to speak with her mouth full.

Uncle Augie, Miss Plockton and Evangeline had been shopping all morning, finalising the last minute details for Evangeline's Easter Ball ensemble. Now they were resting their weary feet at the Royal Coffee Palace, with a restorative brew and a biscuit. Or four.

Excuse me. A white aproned waiter leaned across their table, turning down the blue flame on the tabletop percolator. As the coffee erupted like brown lava into a glass jug, Evangeline inspected the device closely, the latest advancement in coffee technology from Zurich.

The Coffee Palace stood near the corner of Swanston and Flinders Streets where hansom cabs and steam trams rattled by, overlooking the gothic facade of St. Paul's Cathedral. The Coffee Palace bustled with lady shoppers piled with purchases and respectable families enjoying a Saturday morning outing, the rich aroma of freshly brewing coffee wafting up to the high vaulted ceilings.

Now, don't be nervous, Uncle Augie said, once their cups were replenished and the waiter glided away. But you are ever so lucky. Not everyone is invited to the Easter Ball. It is the exclusive ticket in Melbourne this season. I whispered in the ears of all the right people to get you an invitation. But there's no need to thank me.

Tall and rotund Uncle Augie was not Evangeline's real uncle. August Beauchamp was the constant companion of her father's brother Edmund. They all resided under one roof at 56 Collins Street with her father and his personal secretary, Miss Plockton.

Only last week, at that appalling performance of the 'Reanimator of Rouen', I put in another good word for you with Mr. Dolwyddelan and Miss Kircubben-Jones. All about how delightful you are and how they couldn't possibly have a Ball without you. And taa-daa, an invitation arrives.

While Augie's business was in the theatre, his main pastime was instilling etiquette into Evangeline.

This is a great opportunity for you, Miss Evangeline. Mr. Beauchamp has been very kind, Miss Plockton said, adding another layer of guilt before sipping her coffee, black with no sugar of course.

There had been far too much fuss already associated with this Ball. Evangeline knew the Ball was important to Uncle Augie but she took after her father, she was more interested in clockwork than quadrilles. Her father was the famous horological-engineer Professor Montague Caldicott, inventor of many patented best-selling devices including the audito-hearing device and the auto-chariot.

I am ever so grateful for the invitation, but...

Miss Plockton issued a scalding glare and Evangeline closed her mouth. In all honesty, she was a little grateful. Her morning embroidery lesson had been cancelled for today's preparations. The day was not a complete loss.

There is one last errand. Miss Plockton crossed an item off her list with an efficient stroke of violet ink. Collecting your gown from Madame Brisbois. Then we can return to the house.

The revolver pen was a bespoke invention and Miss Plockton's pride and joy. A gift from the Professor with four different coloured inks, the revolver pen was acknowledgement for Miss Plockton's ten years of service as his personal secretary.

Then I can go back to the laboratory-workshop? Evangeline brightened. I want to finish my new mechanical fly-swatter. It's ever so clever, I got the idea from the Venus...

Of course not, Miss Evangeline, Miss Plockton tutted.

There’ll be no time for inventing today, my dear girl. Augie smiled condescendingly. The day has barely begun.

There is far too much to do, Miss Plockton added. We must wash your hair.

And style it. Uncle Augie nodded.

Put the finishing touches on your dress trim.

Practice your Grande Chaine.

Fasten your corsetry.

And test you on the right curtseys. Today will be a very busy day. Augie clapped.

Evangeline turned away and grimaced. How dull. She stared out of the large windows, ignoring the talk about Balls and noticed a young boy running up the street. A boy running was nothing out of the ordinary. Like London, Evangeline's home until five months ago, the streets of Melbourne were filled with young ragamuffins. Then a woman ran past with her child bundled close to her chest, her eyes fearful, followed by a well-dressed family; wife and husband and three crying children in tow. The mobile cog-grinder, known for his off-colour songs, frantically pushed his cart through the crowds without a sound. Like a change in the tide, more and more people started rushing up Swanston Street away from the edge of the Yarra River.

The hum of conversation in the Coffee House hushed, as the patrons turned to watch the waves of people outside. Some leaving their seats to crowd around the windows for a better view. Finally, something exciting was happening.

What's all this commotion? Uncle Augie said.

I'll find out. Evangeline was quick on her feet, squeezing past the other customers towards the front door.

Where is she going? Evangeline! Uncle Augie said.