City of Secrets: Adventures of Letty Parker, #1

By Misha Herwin

Letty Parker lives by her wits. Estranged from her family, she sells pies on the streets of Bristol. But this is a Bristol full of dark secrets, peopled by gangs, monsters, dragons and gargoyles – and by creatures older than time. When her friend and stepsister disappear, when members of Jeb's gang vanish, Letty is plunged headlong into a conspiracy where homeless children are being spirited away to a place where a terrible fate awaits them. These are the poor and the lost children of the streets whom no one seems to care about – except for Letty. But what if a rich child went missing? Would the authorities then act? Together, Letty and Jeb hatch a plan…

• Language: English
• Publisher: Penkhull Press
• Release date: Apr 2, 2019
• ISBN: 9781916437302

Misha Herwin

Misha Herwin lives in Staffordshire, in a house with a dragon in the garden. There are no gargoyles on the roof, because the ones that watch live in Bristol where they keep an eye on Letty Parker and her friends. When she is not writing the next Letty adventure Misha enjoys reading, spending time with her family, and baking raspberry muffins.

Book preview

CITY OF SECRETS

The Adventures of Letty Parker

Book 1

By 

Misha Herwin

City of Secrets © Misha Herwin 2018

Cover painting © Anuk Naumann 2018

Published by the Penkhull Press © 2018

All rights reserved

ISBN 978-1-9164373-0-2 (eBook)

ISBN 978-0-9930008-7-4 (print)

The authors assert their moral rights to be identified as the author of this work under the Copyright, Design and Patents Act 1988

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either wholly imaginary or used fictitiously, and any resemblances to actual persons, places or events are coincidental.

PUBLISHED BY THE PENKHULL PRESS

www.penkhullpress.co.uk

Misha Herwin lives in Staffordshire, in a house with a dragon in the garden. There are no gargoyles on the roof, because the ones that watch live in Bristol where they keep an eye on Letty Parker and her friends. 

When she is not writing the next Letty adventure Misha enjoys reading, spending time with her family and baking raspberry muffins.

~~~

This book is for Maddy, 

who knows that if you step on the cracks the bears will get you.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

The adventures of Letty Parker have been inspired by some amazing women:

My daughter Lucy Harrisis, who never fails to impress me by the wonderful way she combines all the different roles in her life; her elder sister Posy Miller, whose determination and enjoyment of life is something we will always remember; Lizzie Parker with her red hair and questioning mind; Becky Bagnall whose belief in Letty spurred me to get her story out into the world; Jan Edwards for her unstinting support in all my enterprises.

A very special thank you too, to Karen Scarborough for her insightful comments and meticulous proof-reading.

And to my sister, Anuk Naumann for her brilliant cover image. As always, it’s been great working with you.

My mum who, with her sharpness of mind and interest in and care for other people, is a great role model for all the women in our family. 

This book, however, would not exist without the many talents of Peter Coleborn, who designed the book and turned a piece of art into a cover. To him many thanks.

And a final thank you to Mike. Ever patient and supportive.

~CHAPTER ONE~

Rats! Letty Parker pursed her lips and spat. A lump of gristle flew over the edge of the wharf and landed, pale and glutinous, on the stinking mud. Rubbing her face on her arm, she stared reflectively at the ships in the harbour. A dark tangle of masts and rigging was etched against the sky and the setting sun stained the water red. A faint breeze ruffled its surface and lifted the hair from the back of her neck.

Gabriel? She turned and there he was, sitting cross-legged on the bollard beside her. In his dark clothes, black hair falling to his shoulders, he was almost invisible in the winter dusk. 

Rat? Is that what you put in your pies? he teased.

I’ll have you know— Letty’s face reddened —Ma Tucker’s pies are the best. She glanced at the pile of crates where she had left her tray. There’s nothing in them, but the finest beef, pork, mutton, mouse and— she swung her arm towards Gabriel, who swerved sideways to avoid the blow —rats, she giggled. Tiddles catches them and Ma and I skin them and stuff them into the pies.

But first you cut off the ears and tails and stick them out of the pastry for decoration, Gabriel suggested slyly.

Only on high days and holidays. Letty rocked with laughter at the picture he had painted. Her boots, worn and patched, drummed against the harbour wall, as she hiccupped, hooted and gasped. 

It’s not that funny. Gabriel slid to his feet, and the shadows stretching across the cobbles coiled around his legs. Letty’s laughter died away.

I was thinking, before you pitched up… she began.

That it is time to go? Gabriel interrupted. Time to be tucked up in bed in case the night creatures get you. His face was white, his eyes glittered.

You know they don’t scare me, Letty said impatiently. There were far more important things to worry about than the dragons and gargoyles that lived on the roofs and towers of Bristol. 

They watch and listen.

And don’t do nothing wrong, as far as I know.

Gabriel nodded. Whatever people say, the night creatures are not evil.

Not like your kind. As soon as she had said it, Letty knew she had gone too far. Apols, Gabe, I didn’t mean it like that.

No? he said, looking away. 

Letty sighed. Why did he have to be so touchy? It was hard being different, but she hadn’t meant to hurt him.

You might not, but others do.

I know, and it doesn’t matter a scrap to me what you are. The Dark Ones, they’re long gone, and you don’t bear no malice to us, so that’s that, Letty said firmly. All that happened in the past, hundreds of years ago. People run this city now, not your kind. Not no more.

And those of us that are left do our best to stay in the shadows. Gabriel turned towards Letty, and his face was so sad that if he had been anyone else she would have reached out to touch his arm.

Are we still friends then? she said instead.

 Gabriel nodded. Letty, you need to be careful.

Why? Is there something wrong? Before he could answer Letty was on her feet, waving her arms at the seagull who was about to snatch a pie from the tray. Shoo. Get off. She lunged towards it. The startled gull shot into the air and when she turned around Gabriel was gone. 

Typical, she muttered crossly, what did you have to do that for? You were going to tell me something and then you disappeared. Couldn’t you have waited? Oh, I see. It’s Jeb. Why can’t you two get on? She glanced at the boy swaggering down the quay towards her. His tattered blue coat brushed the cobbles. A bright red kerchief was knotted around his neck and a gold ring hung in his ear. He said it was his father’s, who was a pirate on the Caribbean Sea, but everyone knew Jago Hill had worked down Swansea way until he got drunk and drowned in the river.

Jeb was followed by Mango, a small dark-skinned boy in red-and-yellow striped trousers and a shirt which was too large and flapped around him, making him look like a grubby little ghost.

Letty grinned and made for the stack of crates, intending to jump out from behind them and scare the boys, but before she could hide a dark shape scuttled out in front of her. Letty drew back startled. Could it be an ape, or some other foreign animal escaped from a newly docked ship? Or even one of the night creatures come down from their rooftops for a wander? Determined to see what it was and where it had come from, she crept closer. Something flickered between the slats. Letty leaned forward to look at it and a pair of hands came down over her eyes.

~CHAPTER TWO~

Letty clenched her fists, thrusting backwards with her elbows. The hands covering her eyes dropped.

Let us pray, a familiar voice intoned. 

Jebediah Hill! Letty swung furiously at the boy in the tattered blue coat. 

Thrown off balance by the sudden movement, he swayed backwards and forwards, his feet clinging to the edge of the dock, his back arching over the water.

Yes! Letty hissed triumphantly, but instead of plunging headlong into the river, Jeb flung out his arms and staggered crazily across the cobbles. As he teetered towards a pile of barrels, Mango sprang to save him. He put both hands on Jeb’s back and pushed. Jeb fell against a bollard and Mango dashed forward to prop him up as Letty shrieked in disgust. What did you have to go and do that for?

Good thing he did. You nearly had me in there, Jeb grunted.

Shame. Drowning’s too good for you, Letty muttered sourly. You should have minded what you were doing. Sneaking up on me like that and doing that stupid praying voice. Serve you right if you had fallen in and the eels had got you. Pulling a face, she glowered at the murky water as if it was the river’s fault that Jeb had been spared.

You’d have been sorry if I had drowned, Jeb said. Or smothered in mud, he added, looking at the mud banks below. 

Letty scowled furiously. He was right, she would be sorry if anything happened to him, but she wasn’t going to admit it – at least not until he had apologised.

Madame Lettice Amelia Parker, I humbly beg your pardon, he began.

Hmm, Letty snorted. Why did he have to use her full name? It made her so angry. Pa had given his other daughters the names of flowers. Her half-sisters were Rose, Lily and Violet. So why did she have to be named after a vegetable? He might as well have called her Turnip and have done with it. 

Hey, Lets, come on, Jeb wheedled, apols? 

Her shoulders rose. Head hunched, she stared across the river to where the Leigh Woods cloaked the side of the gorge. Jeb cleared his throat.

What if I beg forgiveness for my most outgregious lack of manners, he began.

Outrageous, Letty corrected, half-turning her head.

As does not befit a gentleman of the Queen’s Highway. Especially one what’s wearing the very coat of Captain Midnight himself. Jeb swept a low bow. Apols, he repeated looking up at her. There was a pause.

You know she hates it, Mango piped up. Jeb and Letty turned on him. Her pa— he began.

Stow it, Jeb said. It was an unwritten law that family and past were never mentioned. There were some things better not known and you each had your own scrip: a story woven from scraps of your past, known and imagined, which made you who you were. Muscling in on a person’s scrip showed disrespect and disrespect led to knuckles and knives.

You mind your manners. Jeb swiped him across the ear.

Right, Jeb. Yeah. Mango danced to one side. Apols, soz, pardon. He gave a quick little bow to Letty, who nodded, ignoring the longing glance he gave the tray at her feet. Business was slow and there were pies left from this morning’s batch.

Seen Snake? Jeb asked.

Letty shook her head. You got a job for him?

Could be, Jeb said nonchalantly. Snake with his uncanny skill at sliding through spaces too small for any normal boy was often used by the gangs that worked the city.

He’s not gone out of town, has he?

He hadn’t better, Jeb said crossly. Here. He delved into a back pocket of his capacious coat and drew out a silver hip flask, but before he could hand it to her a small brown hand grabbed it and Mango was pouring the thick sweet drink down his throat.

Hey! Give it here. Jeb loomed over him.

I’m thirsty, Mango protested.

You can wait your turn. Jeb grabbed the flask of rumbulin and Letty took it and drank. It tasted of hot sun and blue skies. 

She sank down on an upended crate and, shuffling to one side, made room for the others. Wiping the top of the flask, she passed it to Jeb. He tipped back his head and swallowed. Mango leaned against her and closed his eyes. For a moment it seemed that he was drifting into sleep, then he opened his mouth and let out a huge belch. Letty and Jeb laughed. 

I’m hungry, he said hopefully.

You’re always hungry, Letty said.

Yes, Mango said cheerfully, pointing at the leftover pies. The pastry was speckled with a day’s dirt and there were gravy stains on the cloth.

They’ve gone cold, Letty warned.

They’re better than an empty belly.

Go on then. Have one. Letty bent towards the tray but before she could pick up a pie a hand sneaked out of the darkness. Grubby fingers clutched at the pastry. Quick as a rat down a drain, Mango pounced. His hand closed around a thin wrist.

You thievin’ little ratbag. Mango pulled a small boy out of the shadows.

It’s him. He was in those crates, Letty cried.

Yes, it was me, the child whimpered, his blue eyes swimming with tears. I’m sorry. I’ll do anything you want but please, please don’t hurt me.

~CHAPTER THREE~

Jebediah Hill hitched his thumbs into his belt and bent over the boy cowering on the cobbles.

Give me one good reason why we shouldn’t beat the living daylights out of you, he snarled. You’re a piece of scum what’s pinching our supper. Isn’t that so? Straightening up, he half-turned towards Letty and winked. The skirt of his coat swirled around his legs and the coins in his pockets jangled. Jeb had no need of leftovers. Later that night, when he had collected the rest of the pickings due to him, he would treat himself and Mango to a hot steak and kidney pudding at the Landogandcrow.

I know it’s wrong to steal, the child said bravely, but I’m so cold and I haven’t had anything to eat for so long. His bottom lip trembled.

Yeah, Jeb snapped, still pretending to be angry. He, like Letty and Mango, knew all about being hungry.

Keep the pie, Letty said quickly. It’s old. She shot a warning glance at Jeb. And you can have another one, she told Mango, who pounced gleefully and began shovelling the greasy pastry into his mouth before she could change her mind. Let him be, Jeb. He hasn’t done nothing to you.

No miss, thank you miss, the boy managed as he crammed the food into his mouth.

I’m not a miss. I’m Letty Parker, the pie girl, and this is Jeb and that greedy squirt calls himself Mango Jack.

Pleased to meet you, the boy mumbled.

And you are? Letty demanded.

George Arthur Worthington St Clair. The boy wiped his mouth with his sleeve and gave a little bow. Delighted to make your acquaintance.

Bleedin’ ink, Jeb whistled. You’re a right little snob.

George, Mango mocked, flourishing his hand. Arthur, his voice rose. Worthington, he yelped. St Clair, he shrieked, swaying with laughter. Delighted to make your acquaintance. 

George’s cheeks flushed. His eyes filled.

Oh don’t be so ignorant, Letty scolded. Chipped off the bottom of a spice clipper you were, Mango.

I was not. My ma was a dancer from Tiger Bay.

You crawled out of the bilges of a coal barge, then, Letty flashed back.

Stow it, Jeb ordered.

Don’t mind him, George. He’s harmless, Letty said. Mango scowled. Well mostly harmless, she added swiftly. 

It’s all right, thank you. My mamma told me that I should never be upset by rudeness from the lower orders. They don’t know any better.

Lower orders, Jeb sneered. Who do you think you are? Crawling out from under a crate and nickin’ our pies. What’s your precious mamma going to say about that?

My mamma is with the angels, George said. Tears spilled down his grimy cheeks and his shoulders shook with sobs.

So you’re an orphan. Is that how you ended up here? Letty said gently. He was a strange little kid with a face like one of those half-dressed babies with wings she’d seen in pictures in St Nicholas Church. George went on sobbing.

If he don’t want to share his scrip, I’m off, Jeb said dismissively.

He don’t have to, Letty said.

And I don’t have to wait.

Please. George hiccupped, his hand reaching out for the edge of Jeb’s coat as the older boy moved away. Don’t go. I’ll do whatever you want, only don’t leave me here. There’s rats … and other things. He looked fearfully at the spot where Gabriel had been sitting, and shuddered. You won’t let him get me, will you?

Who? Jeb stopped.

Him. George crept closer to Letty. The one in the black silk coat, that looks as if he’s come out of a painting.

You saw him? Letty frowned. Gabriel didn’t let everyone see him. Sometimes he was invisible even to her, at other times he seemed no more than a shadow. But he was her shadow, so what was he doing showing himself to this miserable little tyke?

He’s gone, she said. And he won’t be back, she added, crossing her fingers.

Good riddance. You’re best off without him, Jeb muttered.

He scares me, George said. Everything scares me. His thin body pressed against her skirt and she smelt the sourness of his hunger. This kid was a right one. No fight in him, soft as a lump of Ma Tucker’s suet. He wasn’t going to last more than a few days on the wharves, not unless she and Jeb could do something for him. She stuck her thumbnail behind her front teeth and sucked hard; the taste of salt and sweat always helped her think.

He’s so skinny he’d slip down a drainpipe easy. Jeb was obviously thinking