Justine Windsor - Goodly and Grave in A Bad Case of Kidnap

“You want to play for my daughter ?” said Mr Goodly, running his hand through his untidy dark hair.

“I need a new boot girl for Grave Hall. Little Lucy looks just the ticket. If you win, I’ll give you that brooch’s value four times over.”

“We need time to decide,” said Mrs Goodly, suddenly sounding much less tearful.

“Don’t take too long or I may change my mind,” said Lord Grave. He got to his feet and strode over to the tiny bar tucked into a corner of the gambling den.

The three Goodlys looked at each other.

“We can’t,” said Mr Goodly.

“Of course not,” Mrs Goodly agreed.

“You know I won’t lose,” whispered Lucy. “Just think. We’ll make enough to live on for years!”

“But you do lose sometimes,” said Mr Goodly. “We mustn’t risk it!”

Lucy wanted to tell him that she only lost a game now and then so people wouldn’t be too suspicious, including her parents. But she couldn’t. So she shook her head and said, “Look at him. He’s all fuddled with brandy. He’s having another glass now.” Lord Grave was leaning against the bar, drinking Mrs Milligan’s most expensive brandy out of a glass practically the size of Lucy’s head.

Mr Goodly took both of Lucy’s hands in his. “Dear girl, are you sure?”

“Yes, Father. I won’t lose!”

Excitement bubbled up in Lucy. Once she’d beaten Lord Grave, she could spend the rest of the summer paddling and fishing in the river near Leafy Ridge and forget about gambling altogether. And although her parents were hopeless in many ways, she loved them very much and enjoyed spending time with them at home. Her father would bake pies (Lucy picked the scorched pastry off before eating the filling). Her mother would get out her toolbox and crash and bang around inside Leafy Ridge, making improvements (Lucy would then quietly pay someone to improve the improvements). It would be the perfect summer!

Lord Grave staggered back to the table. All of Mrs Milligan’s customers trailed after him, whispering behind their hands. Some of them had seen Lucy play poker before and were looking forward to watching her win against this stuck-up man.

“Well?” asked Lord Grave.

“We agree,” said Lucy.

“Excellent.” Lord Grave clicked his fingers. “A fresh deck of cards, if you please. In fact, let’s play with two decks – makes for a more interesting game. Five-card draw suit you, young lady?”

Lucy nodded.

Mrs Milligan herself pushed her way to the front of the crowd. She had two new packs of cards, which she showed to Lucy and Lord Grave so they could check the seals were intact. Then she shuffled the cards and began to deal.

Lucy’s heart thumped with each card that Mrs Milligan flicked down on to the green cloth. No need to be scared , she told herself. She touched the right sleeve of her jacket. Tucked up inside was a blank card. The card that had changed her life and that sometimes, when she lay awake in the middle of the night, she feared was the work of the devil. The beautiful woman she’d stolen it from hadn’t looked like the devil, though. Apart from the fiery eyes burning behind the veil of her hat.

When Lucy and Lord Grave both had five cards each, Mrs Milligan placed the rest face down on the table. Then she herded the crowd back.

“Give ’em space,” she said. “No funny business.”

Lucy picked up her five cards, angling them towards her chest so no one could see what they were.

Four tens and the two of hearts.

The tens were good, but the two might be a disaster. A king would be so much better. She’d definitely win with a king.

Keeping her gaze fixed steadily on Lord Grave’s face, Lucy emptied her mind of everything. The people crowding as close as Mrs Milligan would allow. The smoke stinging her eyes. The smell of brandy and cigars. Even her parents. She pushed them all from her thoughts until the only thing she saw in her imagination was the two of hearts.

Then she imagined the markings on the two of hearts melting, like wax on a candle, sliding off the face of the card and down, down into her sleeve, then reforming on the card hidden there.

When Lucy had finished imagining with all her might, she looked again at the cards she held.

Four tens and one blank card.

She concentrated even harder.

This time she pictured herself holding the king of hearts.

Colours and patterns began swirling across the surface of the blank card. They gathered into the shape of the heads and shoulders of two bearded men, one on the top half of the card, the other upside down at the bottom. Each man wore a golden crown.

Lucy’s head began to pound, the start of the headache she always suffered when she performed the trick. Her arms ached, the cards feeling like weights. But the trick had worked. The two of hearts was safely tucked up her sleeve. Now she was holding four tens and the king of hearts.

A winning hand.

‘‘Either of you want to switch?’’ asked Mrs Milligan, indicating the pile of cards in the middle of the table.

“Not me,” Lord Grave replied.

“Nor me,” said Lucy.

“You’re both ready to call then?” said Mrs Milligan.

Lucy and Lord Grave nodded. Lucy laid out her four tens and her king. At the same time, Lord Grave laid his cards out. Incredibly, he had four tens too, but his fifth card was the jack of hearts.

Kings trump jacks.

Lucy had won!

She was about to leap from her seat and hug her parents. But before she could move, a strange sensation began to seep through her. It was as though ice was crawling up her arms and legs, freezing her in place. The only things she could move were her eyes. Everything around her had frozen too. Mrs Milligan and the rest of the gambling crowd were motionless, their mouths open in mid-shout. Her father’s hands were over his face. Her mother’s mouth was set in a thin line.

Opposite her, Lord Grave sat staring intently at the cards spread out on the table. Then the strangest thing happened. The heads on the top and bottom of Lord Grave’s jack of hearts card moved from side to side, as though checking whether anyone was watching. Then a hand appeared at either side of each of the heads, grabbed the edges of the card and the two jacks pulled themselves up and out of the card, on to the table. Lucy blinked in disbelief as the two figures ran over to Lucy’s king of hearts, the tiny spurs on their boots jingling. They helped the two kings step out of Lucy’s card. The jacks bowed to the kings and took their place. Then the two kings marched smartly over to the empty card the jacks had left and climbed into it.

As soon as the kings had settled into their new card, Lucy’s body unfroze and the crowd around the table started shouting.

“Look at that! His Lordship’s won by a whisker, his king beats the girl’s jack,” Mrs Milligan boomed.

“Oh, Lucy!” said Mrs Goodly, and burst into tears.

“He stole it! He stole my card!” yelled Lucy, leaping furiously to her feet. She flung the jack of hearts at Lord Grave and snatched up the king of hearts. “ This was my card.”

“Lucy,” said Mr Goodly quietly. “It won’t do any good. He won.”

“But you must have seen what he did!”

Lord Grave stared at Lucy, his bushy eyebrows raised.