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for Young Ladies, leaving Abberline to go back to his beat. Mr Flynn’s face was like stone. He ignored the sleet darting at his cheeks. Julius could almost hear the thoughts grinding against each other under Mr Flynn’s top hat.
    ‘I don’t like this, Julius,’ said Mr Flynn.
    ‘The orchid, you mean?’
    ‘The odd little fellow, Rapple and Baines. Everything. Come on, hurry.’
    ‘Mr Flynn?’ said Julius, as he trotted to keep up.
    ‘What is it?’
    ‘Er…about Emily…’
    ‘What about her?’
    ‘You’re not going to…to…’
    ‘To what?’
    ‘To send her away?’
    Mr Flynn looked down at Julius, as if trying to peer through the surface of a murky pond.
    ‘Of course not. What gave you that idea?’
    ‘She mentioned something about lighthouse keeping.’
    ‘Oh, that,’ said Mr Flynn. ‘It was an idle threat, made in a moment of desperation, and obviously to no effect.’
    ‘You won’t send her away, then?’ Julius could see the ladies’ academy ahead.
    ‘No, I wouldn’t do that,’ said Mr Flynn. They stopped at the gate. ‘I couldn’t if I wanted to, Julius. You see, Emily’s my ward.’
    Julius flinched. He stared at the steps leading up to the front door, pretending not to have heard, or at least not to have been struck by the words. It was as if a bee had stung him and he was impatient for the pain to come so he would know how strong the venom was.
    He swayed—as if the toxin was sliding into his veins. He recalled the time outside the bookshop six months earlier, when he found out that Mr Flynn was not his father. Never had been. Never would be. The disappointment had stung all the more because he had been so certain it was true. But it wasn’t, andthe fact that it wasn’t left an ache where the certainty once was.
    And now Mr Flynn had made Emily his legal daughter, just like that—and had not even thought to tell him. The venom took hold of Julius—leaching into his organs. He gripped the bar of the gate.
    ‘I try to visit as often as I can,’ said Mr Flynn. ‘She’s a handful though. Mrs Trevelyan’s is the second establishment she’s been at in six months. Whenever I visit I have to listen to reports of all the shenanigans she’s been up to.’ Mr Flynn paused and looked at the steps as if they were a mountain he was reluctant to climb.
    ‘I’m sorry, Julius,’ he said. ‘I should have told you. I didn’t think.’
    ‘That’s all right,’ said Julius.
    ‘It’s a legal requirement, so I can make decisions about her education and the legacy the Watchmakers donated to her.’
    ‘We’d best ring the bell, Mr Flynn.’
    ‘Yes. Let’s get it over with.’
    Mr Flynn took the steps three at a time and tapped the brass doorknocker. Julius climbed slowly after him. Mr Flynn removed his top hat and smoothed his hair.
    The door was opened by a maid, whose face lit up in welcome. ‘Mr Flynn,’ she said, ‘We haven’t seen you in more than an age. Mrs Trevelyan was starting to fret.’
    Julius watched, stunned, as Mr Flynn’s cheeks bloomed like a red rosebud opening its petals.
    ‘Well, I’m here now,’ said Mr Flynn. ‘Is everything all right?’
    ‘Why, yes. Why shouldn’t it be?’ said the maid, with a wide-eyed look in anticipation of calamity.
    ‘Oh, no reason.’
    The maid noticed Julius and ran her eyes over him as if she were wrapping him in ribbons. ‘And who’s the young gentleman?’
    ‘Julius Higgins, a friend of Miss Emily. We’ve come to call.’
    ‘You’d better come in, kind sirs,’ she said. ‘I’ll fetch Mrs Trevelyan.’ She scampered away across the hall, with her skirts gathered up in front to give her feet full rein.
    Mr Flynn cleared his throat awkwardly and studied the tiles at his feet. Julius pulled off his mittens.
    There were two stairways curving up around the walls of the grand entrance hall. Julius looked up the three or four storeys to see girls’ faces staring at him over the banisters. He unbuttoned his coat and