Introducing Biscuit's Past
A brief introduction to Miss Penniquik whose story is coming soon!
Biscuit was looking through some old journals when I arrived at The Dragon’s Teacup this morning. He’d clearly been into the attic to find them, there were little dusty claw marks all over the hallway floor.
“Goodness!” I exclaimed, both at the number of diaries he’d found and the mess he’d made finding them. “Those look ancient! What are they?”
“I’ve always kept a diary.” Biscuit explained, showing me the one in his hands. “A different colour for each companion.”
“Do I have a colour?” I wondered eagerly, looking over the books and noting that the full rainbow was on display.
“Yours are green.” He told me. I reached out immediately for the green books to my left. “Those aren’t yours.” He informed and I deflated.
“I thought you said everyone had a different colour?” I stated.
“Those are emerald.” He clarified. “Yours are forest green and they aren’t here. You can’t read them, they’re just for me.” I let my face fall in disappointment.
“Whose are those, then?” I wondered, pointing sulkily at the white books in his hands. Biscuit gave a nostalgic smile.
“These are from my time with Miss Penniquik.” He informed me and my pout vanished, the name was one to conjure with.
“Miss Penniquik?” I repeated. “Who was she?” Biscuit grinned and made himself comfortable. Clearly, it was a long story.
“Miss Penniquik lived in Bath more than a century ago.” He revealed. “And not quite in this universe. And I lived with her there. Together, we oversaw the Society of Story Righters.”
“Like a literary agent?” I wondered but Biscuit shook his head.
“Not ‘story writers’.” He corrected. “Story righters. Miss Penniquik and her colleagues could see the stories of people’s lives and they worked to keep people on course so that their stories ended the way they were supposed to end.”
“But what if it was a sad ending?” I demanded.
“Sometimes lives end that way.” Biscuit sighed. “That was one of the rules of the society. It wasn’t our job to decide how a story should go, only to keep people on the path that was written for them. Worse things happened when they strayed.”
“Who else was in this society?” I wondered and Biscuit looked nostalgic.
“There was Lady Bucey who always knew the gossip among the upper classes.” He listed, counting them off on his little claws. “And the Nanny, Miss Marion Spritleigh, who knew all the gossip from below stairs. And there was the Reverend Vayse-Bright and Colonel Geoffrey Soundacre… although the Colonel couldn’t see the stories but he was very good at getting hold of things no one else could get hold of…” Biscuit’s mind drifted into the memories and his explanations stopped.
“And they went around telling people how their life was meant to go?” I asked. “Because I’m not sure I would want to know.”
“And that was another of the rules.” He explained. “We couldn’t talk about the society’s work but Miss Penniquik and her friends helped ever so many people!”
“Really?” I demanded. “Like who?”
“Well, there was a lord who needed help marrying the right girl, and a member of parliament who was being blackmailed, and the wraith of the fallen soldier, and the boy who should have been in school…” Biscuit listed eagerly.
“Why should he have been in school?” I wondered.
“Because he was a boy.” Biscuit replied as though that ought to have been obvious. He waved it aside. “But there was so much more to the society! Like Miss Penniquik’s nemesis, Lady Rose Whitethorn. And the fact that Miss Penniquik couldn’t see the Colonel’s story and the mystery of exactly how he managed to always be there in the nick of time when Miss P was in danger…”
“It sounds like your time with Miss P was a lot more exciting than your time here with me.” I noted, a touch sourly.
“Exciting only means different.” Biscuit smiled back at me. “Not better.” I saw how his little nose wrinkled reassuringly and felt better about it. It did sound exciting.
“Can I read these ones about Miss Penniquik’s Society of Story Righters then?” I asked and Biscuit passed the first little white book to me.
“Of course you can.” He grinned.