by Mez Blume
My eyes opened to warm, golden sunlight and tall, sweet-smelling grass. If it was a dream, it was a wonderfully comfortable one.
“AchOO!”
My heart jumped and I sat up. Imogen sat near me in the tall grass; behind her was a perfect Imogen-shaped imprint where she had just been lying.
“At least it’s not winter here,” she said through watering eyes as she wiped her nose on her sleeve, adding, “Wherever here is.”
The memory of our death-defying leap from the dome of St. Paul’s materialised like a forgotten dream into my mind. It had happened only a moment before, yet it felt long ago and distant. I closed my eyes and tried to picture their faces: Janklow… Dobbs… Gabriel.
“Well, I never thought I’d experience that sensation again,” a man’s voice said.
Imogen and I both whirled around in disbelief. Kneeling in the grass, knocking the side of his head with his palm, was Gabriel Webb!
“It was you!” I said, getting up. “You grabbed my foot when we jumped.” The idea of Gabriel hanging off my foot in mid-air made me woozy. “That was a mad thing to do,” I reprimanded him. “What if you’d fallen?”
He grinned, still rubbing his head. “I might ask the same of you, Miss Watson. Sometimes in life, madness is required of us. But, thank God, here we all are!”
“But you didn’t have to come–”
“Oh yes I did.” Gabriel heaved himself up and limped forward to offer a hand to Imogen. “I owed it to you, and I owe it to Ramona. It’s time I stopped hiding and did what’s right. You two girls have shown me that. Besides,” – his tone became flat – “I have unfinished business with my brother.”
“But what about your barge, and Alph and Billy Bones?” Imogen asked.
Gabriel was squinting into the sun. “I’m not entirely sure they exist at this moment, Miss Humphreys. Though I’m also not entirely sure I understand how this whole time travel business works. But if Alph and Billy Bones need looking after, I feel certain I can rely on Dobbs and Janklow to keep an eye on them.”
Dobbs and Janklow. That reminded me of one remaining mystery. “How did you both turn up at St. Paul’s, and how on earth did you persuade Janklow to come?”
“Simple, really,” Imogen answered. “I told Janklow what had happened. Mrs. Janklow told him if he didn’t march straight down to that police station and see that her boy and that ‘angelic girl’ were brought home safe, she would never cook him another pie in his life.”
My mouth hung open. I could barely imagine Mrs. Janklow using such strong language.
“So he came with you? Just like that?”
“I think he would’ve come, even without Mrs. Janklow’s threats. We went straight to Smart, and Janklow insisted on speaking to both Dobbs and Gabriel.”
I looked at Gabriel, who picked up the story.
“He was sick with worry about you,” he said. “I never would have thought a man like Janklow could let his heart get the better of his resolve, but he was ready to listen to what I had to say if it would help him save you.”
“What did you say to him?” I asked, touched that the Inspector cared so much.
“I risked the truth. I told him about the magic paintings… told him what I believed Phineas to be up to. As evidence, I told him the painting on my barge was a fake. He called his man Mortimer for a second opinion. The little man actually laughed when he looked at it. He said a child might have recognised the difference.”
“And then Janklow believed you?”
“And then he believed you, Miss Watson. He had enough evidence to know that you were, as he always knew deep down, trustworthy.”
I bit my lip and looked away, embarrassed to show the tears forcing their way into my eyes.
“Anyway,” Imogen continued with a sigh, “Janklow busted Dobbs and Gabriel out, then went straight to look for you at Camelot. When we got there, the manservant said Sir Phineas had gone out, but he wouldn’t say where. Just as we were about to get into the carriage, Willie the Slink turned up on a mule. He said you rode up on its back, dismounted in the garden, and hitched the it to a bench before taking off on the back of Phineas’s carriage. It was an insane story which, of course, I had no trouble believing. Anyway, Willie rode the mule after you as far as Fleet Street, then turned back.”
“That was enough to tell us that Phineas, and you, were headed for St. Paul’s,” Gabriel explained. “We only hoped we would arrive in time.”
“You weren’t a minute too soon,” I said with a laugh, though my stomach twisted to think just how close they had come to finding me broken on the cathedral floor.
A horn sounded in the distance, turning our heads towards the west, where the sun had dipped beneath the trees. We shaded our eyes against its last rays to look for signs of what, or who had made the noise.
“Oh, look!” Imogen pointed to something in the distance. “There’s a castle, just rising out of those woods!”
I had just spotted the towers and banners of the castle silhouetted against the western sky when a host of armoured riders spilled out of the woods and down the hillside. Long swords at their sides glinted in the setting sunlight. My heart climbed into my throat as I realised they were riding straight in our direction. They would be on us in minutes, and there was nowhere to hide.
Gabriel stepped in front of us as the leader of the host approached and called for his companions to halt. He held a blue and yellow chequered banner in one fist. With the other hand, he threw up the visor of his helmet.
“Who goes there?” He demanded.
“We are travellers, sir,” Gabriel answered. “Where exactly do we go, if you please?”
“You have entered the realm of his lordship, the Earl of Warwick, and his lady, soon to be Countess, Ramona.”
I looked at Imogen and saw on her face exactly what I felt – relief wrestling with dread. We had done it. We had found Ramona at last! But never before had we been so far from home nor in such a predicament. I felt a rush of gratitude to Gabriel for coming with us.
“If you seek lodgings for the night in the castle keep, might I urge you to hasten forthwith,” the horseman said a little impatiently. “The portcullis gate will close at sunset.”
Gabriel bowed. “Thank you, sir.”
“Ride on!” the man ordered his party.
Instantly, the ground quivered as the horses bucked up and sped away, leaving no more than a cloud of dust behind. As the riders became smaller in the distance and the sound of hooves died away, Imogen and I turned to each other, both letting out a breath of relief in unison.
“Welcome to the age of chivalry,” she said, making jazz hands.
I shook my head, but I was glad she had hung on to her sense of humour after all we’d been through. She would never know just how much I needed it.
“Not long before sunset.” Gabriel shielded his eyes and squinted towards the castle.
“I’m ready if you are,” I said. Gabriel nodded. Imogen linked her arm through mine, and together we started off towards the setting sun. Towards Ramona.
Whatever dangers awaited, I could be confident of one thing: when I met them, I would not be alone.
Victorian Glossary
Truncheon – a wooden club carried by policemen
‘Bricky’ – slang word meaning plucky, brave or fearless
Workhouse – a poorhouse in which paupers and orphans were given work for lodgings
Hostel for Girls of Good Character – a charitable lodging for poor or destitute young women
Omnibus – the Victorian version of a public, horse-drawn ‘bus’
Arcade – an arched, covered passageway with shops on either side (e.g. Covent Garden Market)
Skilamalimk – someone who is secretive, shady or sneaky
Hansom Cab – a small horse-drawn, two-wheeled carriage popular for transport in London
Penny Dreadful – one-penny magazines published weekly; featured sensational, often frightful adventures
Ha’penny –
pronounced ‘hay-penny’; an abbreviation of ‘half penny’
Shilling – a silver coin worth 12 pence in British currency
Crown – a silver coin worth 5 shillings
Constable – starting rank for an officer of the London Metropolitan Police Force, est. 1829
Bobbies/Coppers – slang words for policemen
‘Got the morbs’ – slang to describe someone who is gloomy or melancholy
‘Slip through his daddles’ – criminal slang meaning to escape capture, or ‘slip through his fingers’
‘Back slang it’ – criminal slang for ‘go out the back way’
‘Spreadin’ butter on bacon’ – slang for ‘overdoing it’
Monocle – a single eye glass used to closely examine something
Mop-cap – a gathered, cloth bonnet worn by women at home and house maids
River Barge/ Canal Boat – a long, narrow, flat-bottomed boat designed to navigate canals. Also referred to as a ‘narrowboat’
About the Author
Mez Blume is the British-American author of the celebrated first three books in the Katie Watson Mysteries in Time series. With two more ‘Katie books’ due to release, she has, like Katie, become a frequent ‘time traveller’, often venturing into history in search of ideas for her next story. Discover more about Mez’s story adventures, find out about new book releases, and get access to bonus features when you sign up for Mez’s newsletter at MezBlume.com.
