by C J M Naylor
"You two are ridiculous," Elisabeth said, leaving the room.
"Mother has turned her against us," Eleanor said, continuing to cry softly into her bed sheets.
"She'll come around," Elijah said.
Eleanor rolled over onto her back. "I can't do this anymore. Elijah, I need to go. Tonight."
Elijah looked worried. He wouldn't mind leaving. He knew his mother would never feel the same way about him that she felt about Elisabeth. But he would have to leave Abigail. And he loved Elisabeth and knew that he couldn't leave her in a toxic relationship with his mother. But he also realized Eleanor had had enough. She needed to get away.
"I think I have to stay," Elijah said, "for Elisabeth, and Abigail. But you know I'll help you do whatever it is you need to do. Just say the word."
Eleanor nodded and brushed the tears from her eyes. "I've talked to a few of the nuns at St. Mary's and they said they could get me to London. I want to be a part of the church forever. I want to become a nun."
Elijah smiled. His sister's faith was something that reminded him there was hope after all. "Let's do it."
That night, Elijah helped Eleanor escape her mother's wrath forever.
Four Years Later
Eleanor had been fourteen when Elijah helped her sneak out in the middle of the night. Lucinda was furious the next morning. She ransacked Eleanor's room, destroying all of her daughter's possessions. She didn't plan to look for Eleanor. As far as she was concerned, the girl was dead. So life moved on at the Callaghan Headquarters. Elijah continued his studies in the village, and Elisabeth continued working closely with her mother, refusing to believe what Eleanor had told her the night she left. Elisabeth knew that while her mother was different from the other mothers, she was capable of love. She had to be. Why else would Elisabeth be her favorite? She refused to believe there was any kind of prophecy Lucinda was trying to fulfill.
December 1922
"You'll be moving to London this week."
Elisabeth looked up in confusion at her mother's sudden declaration. She had no idea why she was suddenly moving to London.
"Pardon?"
Lucinda looked at her daughter from her office desk, and then stood up, taking off her black spectacles and placing them on the desk. She walked over to her daughter, her heels clicking against the floor, and placed both her hands on her daughter's shoulders.
"It's time for you to find a husband, my love."
Elisabeth recoiled at the idea. She had never been courted by anyone, let alone courted anyone herself. Why was her mother suddenly asking this of her?
"But I don't want to find a husband," Elisabeth replied. "I want to stay here with you."
Lucinda's face turned ugly. "You will do as I say."
Elisabeth looked away, confused at her mother's sudden, agitated behavior. Then she felt her mother's hands on her cheek, turning her face back to her.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Lucinda said. "I didn't mean to lash out like that. It's just time. You're eighteen. You need to think about starting a family of your own."
Elisabeth had always been in the business of making her mother happy. So, instead of arguing again, she agreed. Her mother helped her pack her things, continued to reiterate the fact that it was important to follow her instructions to the "T", and then Aldridge and Lucinda were taking Elisabeth down to the Dingle, Ireland Port to ship off for London. She hadn't even said goodbye to Elijah. They hadn't spoken much since Eleanor left. That day, he simply watched her go from the end of the long hallway that led out of their Headquarters. And she didn't look back.
CHAPTER EIGHT
December 1922
Elisabeth Callaghan stood outside of the Old Bailey, gazing up at the statue of Lady Justice. The statue exemplified the pursuit of justice in a society that was constantly being tested. In one hand, Lady Justice carried the sword, signifying that justice is prompt and final, and in the other hand, her balance scales, signifying the weighing of any evidence given at trial. But what Elisabeth found most ironic, especially considering the statue was on the building of a courthouse, was the fact that Lady Justice was missing her famous blindfold. The blindfold was meant to represent Lady Justice not being biased. And Elisabeth found it even more ironic considering the trial currently taking place, and the outcome, which she had already foreseen, that would follow.
As Elisabeth made her way into the building, she let her fingers trace its walls. She felt the pain and sorrow that had passed through them, and the pain and sorrow yet to come. Elisabeth's power to feel the past, as well as the future, came to her almost a year after her eighteenth birthday. It was one of many individual powers that could only be bestowed on original Timekeepers. Each Timekeeper received a different power. A power that, while sometimes beneficial, could at other times become a great curse.
Flashes of a great war, one greater and more dangerous than its predecessor, flashed through Elisabeth's mind as she made her way up the stairs, toward the entrance of the building. She saw images of aircraft flying over London, dropping bombs on the buildings. She saw destruction, pain, and suffering. It came to her in quick, short bursts, and it caused her so much agony she had to stop and pull her hand from the wall, clutching at her chest and taking slow, deep breaths.
"Are you alright, Miss?"
Elisabeth looked up into the eyes of a young policeman. He was leaning in close and peering at her. She quickly smiled and nodded.
"I'm fine, thank you.”
She brushed past him and made her way into the building in hopes of finding a seat in the courtroom. She had made sure to arrive early, knowing full well the trial had been quite publicized, and the public would soon be arriving to see what would happen. Elisabeth had foreseen what would happen as soon as she had arrived in London, and while she was appalled at the idea that the woman on trial wouldn't be receiving justice, she really didn't think it necessary to be here. It was her mother who had demanded she come.
The courtroom was nearly full when Elisabeth entered, but she saw a seat near a man, who appeared to be a little older than her, with dirty blond hair. She approached him and asked if the seat next to him was taken. He shook his head and she took her seat, looking around the room at all of the people. She had no idea what her mother was expecting her to find here, other than an innocent woman being put on trial. The man next to her appeared not to be too interested in the proceedings either. He too was looking around the room, as if in search of someone.
It was then that she saw him. He was sitting down on the lowest level of the court room, sitting next to a man he looked unhappy to be with. And he looked unhappy to be here. It was what drew him to her attention. He looked as if he wanted to dash out of the room as quickly as he could. He looked as if he couldn't handle being around anyone, let alone a room with hundreds of people in it. His hair was brown, cut short. He had no facial hair, easily revealing his chiseled facial features. He was handsome, very handsome.
Elisabeth could feel the man next to her reposition in his seat. She inclined her head to look at him out of the corner of her eye and noticed he too had been drawn to the man at the lowest level.
"Mathias," the man next to her muttered.
Elisabeth turned completely to face the man and gave him a questioning look.
"I'm sorry," she said, "did you say something?"
She could tell he hadn't meant to say it out loud, but he had outed himself nonetheless.
"I'm just talking to myself," he said, a smile appearing on his face. He had an American accent. He held out his hand. "Henry Jane. Quite the circus show this trial is turning into, isn't it? All of these people here just to catch a glimpse of this woman and her lover."
There was a brief hesitation as Elisabeth wondered if she should shake the man's hand, knowing what would happen if she did. She let a moment pass and then took it.
Flashes.
They passed before her eyes quickly. She saw the man, Henry, holding a baby. And she saw a woman, also hol
ding the baby. But she couldn't quite make out the woman's face. And she also saw the man who had attracted her attention in the courtroom.
"It is quite interesting to say the least," Elisabeth agreed, releasing his hand and looking back toward the front of the courtroom.
"And your name?"
She tensed. She should have known he would ask this. It wasn't that she cared giving out her name, but more so that her mother warned her against doing so.
"Elisabeth James," she said. The family surname needed to be protected. Always. It was what her mother always told her.
"Pleasure," Henry replied. He sat back in his chair and returned his gaze to the man at the front of the room, the one he had called Mathias. Elisabeth had a feeling Henry was here because of the woman holding the baby in her vision whom she couldn’t see. There was something going on between Mathias and Henry, and it also involved her. From what she had seen, she could the woman and Henry had had a child together. Elisabeth always tried to not let other people's business consume her, but this was hard to do when it was thrown upon her so quickly.
The next hour passed slowly. Much of the time was spent deliberating on whether or not certain letters between the woman on trial and her lover could be admitted to the jury as evidence. Already knowing the outcome of the trial, Elisabeth sat in her seat wondering why her mother had wanted her to come here. Had she wanted her to meet the man Elisabeth had been drawn to at the front of the courtroom? Perhaps she had wanted Elisabeth to meet the man sitting next to her? She had no idea.
A recess was declared and many individuals began moving toward the lobby to stretch their legs. Mathias began to do so, and Elisabeth allowed herself to follow him. She noticed Henry was not far behind her. It was when he actually brushed past her and walked quickly up to Mathias that she sensed a scene was about to break out. She casually moved out of the line of fire but stayed near enough to eavesdrop on the potential quarrel.
"Mathias," the man spat, moving toward him.
Mathias, who had been standing with his back facing Henry and standing beside the older man, turned and looked at Henry with first surprise and then pure rage.
"Henry," he said, the disgust evident in his voice, "did you follow me here?"
"Of course, I followed you here," Henry said. "My child needs a mother. How could you allow Bessie to abandon her own son? You should be ashamed of yourself. Taking off with another man's wife. Ripping a mother away from her child."
The man's face turned beet red, and the man who stood next to him, which Elisabeth assumed to be his father based on their similar physical features, stepped in.
"I don't know what business you have with my son, sir," the man said, "but I will not allow you to make a mockery of us in front of all of these people. You need to leave. Now."
The quarrel was starting to attract the attention of others and it even looked as if some officers were about to step in. Henry held up his hands in defeat, shaking his head, but before he walked away, he said, "She needs help, Mathias. Help that neither of us can give her."
As Henry walked away, Mathias glared daggers at him before walking away with his father.
As much as Elisabeth wanted to follow Mathias, she felt a need to comfort Henry. He looked distraught, and she felt for him. Having grown up away from most of the world, she suddenly felt a longing to help another person. And so she followed him instead.
"Sir. Sir!"
Elisabeth was running after Henry, down the steps of the Old Bailey. But he wasn't turning around.
"Mr. Jane."
That got his attention. Henry stopped and turned around, looking at Elisabeth in confusion, and then quickly recognizing her from the courtroom.
"Yes, Miss?"
Elisabeth slowed her pace now as she walked toward Henry, her heart racing after running to keep up with him. As she approached him, she realized he was quite handsome. He didn't draw her attention as much Mathias had, but there was something attractive about him.
"I'm sorry to have eavesdropped," Elisabeth said, "but I couldn't help overhearing the quarrel between you and that man back there. I, well, I suppose I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
The man raised his eyebrow in surprise and then looked down at his feet, shuffling them. He didn't say anything for a moment, and the two of them stood there awkwardly in the cold December weather.
"Thank you," he finally said. "That's not something most people would do."
A smile lit up Elisabeth's face. "I'd like to think I'm not like most people."
"Perhaps not," he responded. He brought his hand up and tugged at his beard for a moment before he finally said, "Would you like to have a coffee with me?"
The question took her by surprise, but she nodded her head. He smiled and led her in the direction of a coffeehouse.
Henry and Elisabeth sat in a coffeehouse not too far from the Old Bailey. They had both ordered a coffee and were waiting patiently. Elisabeth, not knowing what to say, was spending the majority of the time looking out of the window they had been seated next to and admiring the passersby of London as they walked to and fro, going about their everyday lives.
Henry sat across from her and was moving his leg up and down, up and down in a constant motion and finally Elisabeth lightly tapped him with the heel of her shoe.
"You're shaking the whole table.”
His leg stopped and a blush erupted in his face.
"Sorry.”
She smiled. "It's okay. Do you want to talk about what happened back there? It's fine if you don't, but I figured it's probably important to talk about tense situations once in a while."
Henry sighed, also beginning to look out the window. He didn't say anything, so Elisabeth didn't press him. A waitress came and deposited two coffees and a cup of cream onto their table and walked away. Elisabeth picked up her cup and sipped while Henry began adding cream. She noticed he added quite a bit. He looked up, realizing she was watching him and stopped.
"Sorry," he said, "did you want some? Black coffee has always been too bitter for me."
Elisabeth shook her head and took another sip of hers. Henry began stirring the cream into his coffee, but didn't take a sip. Finally, he sighed and then spoke.
"The man that you saw me quarreling with back there," he said, "was Mathias Benedict. I met him in America and he took a fancy to my wife, Bessie."
Elisabeth knew this was most likely the case based on what she had already seen, but she had hoped it would be something different. She didn't quite like hearing the man she had taken an interest in was also engaged in an affair with another man's wife. Regardless, she didn't speak up and let Henry continue with his story.
"At first I thought Bessie wasn't interested in him. She was carrying our child and we were doing well. However, that all changed after Thomas was born. She didn't want to have anything to do with our son. I've heard stories in the field. You see it has always been my intention to go into medicine and I've heard that women after childbirth can sometimes be unaccepting of their child, but they soon come around. I figured this was the case with Bessie.
"But then I found out in the worst of all ways. I stumbled upon them engaged in, well, pardon me, but engaged in relations of an intimate nature. I knew then she didn't desire me. She had no interest in raising our child. And then one day they were gone. I guess I'm here to try and win her back. Our child needs a mother, you see? How can I possibly raise him on my own?"
A tear had appeared at the edge of Henry's eye, but he wiped it away and finally took a sip from his coffee.
"Forgive me," Elisabeth said, "but you mentioned that Bessie needed help. How so?"
Henry sat down his cup. "She's always been delicate. She didn't have the greatest relationship with her mother, and it affected her greatly. Before she left, she had begun to act a bit strangely. For example, I once found her talking to herself, completely alone in a room. At other times, she claimed she had been hearing voices. And her temper, she had a violent t
emper. At first, the things she said to me were merely threatening, but towards the end, they were worse. The night she left, she slashed at me at with a knife."
Henry pulled up the sleeve of his left arm and showed Elisabeth a wound. It was healing, but it was still ugly.
"This might be a bit forward," Elisabeth said, "but do you think she is safe to be around your child?"
It Henry’s eyes filled with tears. He shook his head.
"I don't know. I just don't want my child to grow up without a mother. Does Bessie need help? Yes. She does. But I still have feelings for her. I have a child with her for Christ's sake. Forgive me." He began taking deep breaths.
"It's okay," Elisabeth said. "It's understandable that you would feel this way."
Henry picked up a napkin and wiped his eyes. He then set it down and looked at Elisabeth.
"I noticed the way you looked at him."
Elisabeth's heart skipped a beat. "Excuse me?"
"Mathias Benedict," he responded. "The man that I argued with. You were watching him, very closely."
In response to his forwardness, Elisabeth attempted to smile. "I'm not sure what you're implying, sir."
"There's no need denying it," Henry said. "I saw that same look in my wife's eyes. Will you help me?"
She gulped at his question. Help him.
"How could I possibly help you?"
"You're a beautiful woman," he responded. "You seem kind, honest, and knowledgeable. You could make him fall for you. And it would be genuine. Whatever he has with Bessie, it isn't genuine. I don't even know if it's genuine with me. I'm starting to believe Bessie is in it for the desire, the lust. I've known Mathias. She is manipulating him, just like she manipulated me, only I have to keep living with it, because of the life we created. You could help me. You could get him to leave her."
