Henry was sitting in a dark red upholstered wing chair, dressed in his hunting gear with a shotgun and club by his side, giving the impression he hadn’t been listening to the conversation about his ‘dastardly cowardice’. He always gave me the impression of the kind of Victorian gentleman who regarded not being willing to stand in a line dressed in non-camouflage red in order to catch cannonballs as a weakness of character. How he was dealing with this situation which involved him running away without a shot being fired I don’t know. But as I approached him with some trepidation, remembering our first meeting at that cricket match, he suddenly looked up at me and leapt out of his seat. Before I could run and hide, and NOT behind Elizabeth’s skirts as was later suggested by someone, he grasped me with both hands and said,
"Thank God you are here, Mr Urquhart. You are my only hope. What is that world out there?"
Before I could think of a reply he noticed Elizabeth.
"Forgive me, Elizabeth. Where are my manners? How are you? Are you ...."
He had noticed her short skirt and blouse.
"Are you not a little cold?"
Thank God she wasn't wearing jeans.
Elizabeth immediately adopted the time and occasion.
"Please forgive me for my clothes. I did not expect to be in this time otherwise I would have dressed for the occasion."
"It is of no consequence save to reinforce the reality we have perceived. But please, once again, my manners. Sit down; may I bring you tea?"
Ah! Victorian tea time. Almost as good as my Aunts used to treat me to in Scotland as a child. Having scoffed two pieces of shortbread and a large slice of sponge cake I said. "So how have you survived the last month?"
"It is simple, Mr Urquhart. We have found by experiment that if we leave via the veranda we are in our world. If we try to leave by the front entrance, we enter yours."
"What about the servants? Do they know?"
"No. We have prohibited them from leaving or entering via the front. We have bolted and locked the door and only Flory and I have the keys.”
Elizabeth turned to me and said, "What if this is only temporary and we are trapped back here in time?"
I immediately got up and went the window. My car and more importantly our luggage had vanished!
I turned to Henry and said, "Excuse me, but can I look out of the front door? I need to see if the future is still there."
He looked at Flory and nodded. I accompanied her to the door and after she had unlocked it I looked out. Nothing just blankness. Then without thinking I stepped out onto the porch. There was a slight shimmer in the air and my car appeared. The brief moment of relief vanished almost immediately when I looked back and saw just a grey wall in the open door. I literally flew back through the portal into the house. Elizabeth was standing there. She was really angry.
"You absolute fool! What did you think you were doing? I could have lost you!"
And she stormed off into the study. I quickly followed. She stood by the mantelpiece, shaking. I went to her and she saw my look and melted in my arms.
"Oh, James! You idiot. We must learn to think before we act. But as we have now established both worlds exist in juxtaposition we must somehow capitalise on it.”
“So what do we do? Go to the future and look for your father while it still exists or stay here?"
------------------
E.
I could not leave my sister and cousin in this state of limbo for I would not forgive myself if anything untoward happened. What would become of them? They did not exist in my new world. But then I remembered my father. I turned to Flory and said, "Do you know where father is?"
She hesitated then after looking at Henry for consent said, “I'm sorry, Elizabeth. I could not bring myself to tell you. But on the first day of this phenomenon he left by the front door with the intention of finding you. He guessed that out there was James's world and he was going to travel to Chichester to find you. He has not returned."
“Did you not try to stop him?”
“Of course I did. But I was on my own and as you know when Father is determined, well, it is difficult.”
I did not blame Flory. This was a cruel fate. My family was split between two worlds. I turned to James for support.
After a rather long moment in which he eventually realised we were all looking at him for help he said, "If we stay here we need to get our clothes from the car."
I was hoping for a little more guidance and gently parked his suggestion. "No, James. We have clothes here. We must not be in haste though I fear haste might be all we have if this disparity in time is temporary."
He thought a bit more while we waited for enlightenment though not without sympathy. Poor James. Here he was in my world with three Victorians expecting him to solve our problems. I could not imagine it the other way around.
Then he said with what looked like relief on his face at finding a solution. "OK. This is it. We have to find your father. Why? Because he may have learnt something about this time shift. And also, if he is dressed in his usual fashion he’s going to stick out like a sore thumb.”
My father’s ‘usual’ fashion was not eccentric but I agreed he would be taken for one very quickly if any one engaged with him in conversation.
“But,” said Henry, “Why has he not returned?”
“I’ve no idea but it’s possible because he can’t or he’s lost.” said James.
The second I had considered but not the first. What could prevent him from returning?
James continued. “Look. As far as I can see there is nothing to be gained by staying here. Everyone's in stasis. We can’t go looking for him here because it’s 1873. We need to go to the future."
“But he may return while we are away,” said Flory.
“In that case," James replied, "you will be here to look after him and if we don’t find him we’ll return here.”
I could see he was right. I discussed this with Flory and after some sisterly words verging on argument she acquiesced, "You are right, Elizabeth. We still have our own world here, even though we can only find it by the rear of the house. We will wait for you, but please be quick."
Henry was in agreement. "Do not worry yourselves. I will be here to protect Flory. It is Old Bicester who needs help."
------------------
Chapter 3
J.
We drove back to Chichester using the guidance system. I did offer to drive but Elizabeth thought after the ‘adventure’, as she called it, I might not be as sharp as required. Sometimes it is a good idea to be reminded of your limitations.
The trees were in full autumn colour across the Downs. I remarked, "Autumn seems to arrive quickly in this world, Elizabeth."
"Yes, the seasons do progress at a pace. No doubt the heat aids it so."
The increase in carbon dioxide which was now at last under some control had caused an incredible regrowth in vegetation throughout the world. But unfortunately it had also brought a deluge of rain, and most crops that depended on months of sunshine such as wheat and barley had disappeared to be supplanted by rice.
When we arrived at our house we found a pile of letters on the floor.
"God. The postman seems to have emptied his sack through the door." I said with some surprise. As I picked up the pile Elizabeth noticed the puzzlement in my face.
"Are you well? You look perplexed."
I looked at my phone. Just as I suspected. We had moved a week forward in time.
I said, "That time portal at your home has lost us a week."
But Elizabeth wasn't listening. She had noticed a particular handwritten letter in the pile. She picked it up and examined it.
"I think this is from my father!"
She quickly opened it and read the contents.
"He is here, James! What is the date today?"
"20th of October."
"This was written yesterday."
"Where is he?"
"He is in Midhurst.
I have an address. He is staying with a Mr. Horace Hyatt. Oh, and he apologises for eating our food and also taking one of your suits."
"I've only got one suit!"
"Really, James? It is a wonder I am seen out with you. We must buy you more before I am commented on," she said with that impish smile of hers. I replied in fashion.
"And where shall we put them? For some reason my wardrobe is full."
"I could not let all that space go to waste. Besides I presumed you had another wardrobe as I thought those that I found were just remnants for gardening."
She had now put on that demure expression of hers which she used when indulging in a bit of banter.
I looked at my clothes and then at Elizabeth's and agreed perhaps a little effort was required on my part. I must have looked a little dejected at this point because she came over and kissed me. I returned it. After a short while I said,
"Anyway, who is this Mr Hyatt?
"Let me have your phone, James."
I reluctantly gave it to her. My sister, Jill, had commented once that taking my phone from me was like Gandalf trying to get the Ring from Bilbo. Rubbish. It’s just a rather delicate instrument which needs looking after.
"Do I type the name in here?" she said.
I looked. "Yep. Then press that button there. That's it."
And with a few seconds my dearest Victorian was surfing the net like a pro.
"Ah, I have found only one but he was Headmaster to Mr. H. G. Wells!"
"That's our man. What's he doing here? Let's have a look."
"Give me a moment, James.” I withdrew my hand which had nearly had my phone in my grasp. “Ah yes. He has been at this address not five weeks."
"How did you get that?"
"It is simplicity itself. You just ask the right question. And I thought it needed a wizard to operate it."
And she looked at me with mock disappointment.
"No, Elizabeth. It's designed for idiots with no knowledge of how it works."
"Gosh, until now I had not realised what little mental capacity was needed to live in your world. But now, come to think on it, it would explain a lot of our actions."
Before I could reply she said, "Oh look, this one shows the weather. And oh! this one must be your camera. Let me take a picture of you."
And she turned it to me, "Is it this button? Oh yes! There you are. I have a picture of you at last."
She showed me the image. "Can you print this for me as a keepsake?"
Her voice sounded weak. I looked at her. A tear had formed in her eye. I had forgotten how fragile our existence was together. I turned on the printer and made her four small copies. "And now I wish something from you," I said.
"What do I have that you need? Surely not my red stockings again?"
"If you mention those once more you’ll find you'll be needing a new pair soon after."
"Not too soon after I hope, James," she said with an inviting smile that took not a little resisting.
What a girl.
I then gave her a pair of scissors. She understood and cut me a small lock of her hair. I inserted it in a small envelope and put it in my wallet.
"Now," I said, "what about your father?"
---------------------
E.
I carefully put three of James' pictures in separate bags and the fourth within a secret pocket about my person. Then I said, "We must go to Midhurst."
"Yes, but we should wait until tomorrow. It's getting dark."
"No, I cannot wait. My father is out there and time might change again before we know it."
Despite my protestations I eventually and reluctantly agreed to his proposal to wait until the morrow on the condition that he cook an Italian pasta dish for in truth I was rather hungry after our adventure.
To my dismay we arose later than expected. Never-the-less, James insisted we should partake in what he describes as one of his heart stopping breakfast 'fry ups' before leaving as we had no idea when we might get another meal. I then quickly packed while James cleaned the dishes and then we drove up to Midhurst. Luckily the address was in James's guidance machine and thus thankfully the journey was uneventful. Mr Hyatt was staying in rooms close to the old chemist’s shop on Church Road. He greeted us wearing a dark suit jacket and light grey trousers. He was quite small and rather rotund. His face, on which grew white sideburns and a heavy moustache, had a cheerful complexion. I noticed a number of buttons were undone on his green waistcoat which judging by his girth had not been fastened for some time and suggested he enjoyed fine food. That familiar aroma of tobacco which I had come to associate with my time surrounded him. When we introduced ourselves he invited us in immediately and there in the sitting room was my father. He was still wearing James's suit. I ran to him and hugged him.
"Ah, you received my letter. I was not quite sure how the postal service operates in your world but your presence indicates it works well."
“Yes, I received your letter and came post haste." Carefully omitting the delay of a night. "But what are you doing here, Father?”
“And,” said James, “more importantly, how did you get here?”
"It is an interesting story. Please sit down.” said my father, indicating the retelling might take some time. “He motioned us to an old sofa. “Good. Now, first of all I went to your home in Chichester.”
“How?” said James, “It’s over 10 miles!”
“I must admit I did not have a plan but as I walked down the road a carriage stopped and the driver asked me if I was well.”
“I suppose your clothing must have fascinated him,” said James.
“That is exactly what he said. He wanted to know where I bought my clothing as next week he was attending a party in which my fashion would be perfect for the occasion. I was not sure whether to take this as a compliment. However, this gave me the opportunity to embellish a story which might assist me.”
“Father, you didn’t take advantage of the man?”
“Heaven forbid, Lizzy!”
I turned to James and said, “I expect you have noticed my father can spin a story into any web of his choosing.”
“I couldn’t possibly comment, Lizzy,” James grinned, using my family nickname of which he knew I did not approve.
My father noticed as well but continued, “I told him I was attending a similar function in Chichester that evening but my daughter had taken my carriage again.”
“You made me an accomplice to your story!” I exclaimed.
So having compromised my position, honour and respectability I am now incorporated into a legend in which I did not participate! There will be nothing left of my reputation in my old age.
“Well, you must admit, Lizzy,” he said “there is some truth in what I said about your borrowings. I remember that time when you were infatuated with that young man at Horsham and you…”
I interrupted him quickly. “Please continue with your story, Father.”
Luckily he continued. But not before I noticed by the expression on James' face that he was filing 'Horsham' away for future use.
“Anyway, on hearing my story he immediately offered to take me in his carriage on condition I told him all about what I knew about Victorian manners and etiquette. I must say it was an exciting ride and the comfort first class.”
“And the poor chap has gone away with all the knowledge and fashions of the 1850s,” I said.
“What’s wrong with that?” said James.
“Would you go out in the clothes of your father or grandfather?”
“Point taken, Lizzy.”
“James! Don’t use that name.”
“Sorry,” he said, still grinning,
I had discovered that when James and Father were together the constraints of convention were somewhat loosened and they were likely to edge each other on. This was especially noticeable in the presence of what I would call ‘respectable’ company.
“So Lizzy, if you will let me finish my story. When I
arrived at your abode I thought I had the wrong place as it was much smaller than I expected.”
He looked at me with air of a kind father whose daughter had not quite come up to his expectations. I thought best not to pursue this and thankfully nor did he. “There was no answer so I tried the door and it opened."
James and I looked at each other. We were sure we had locked up before leaving.
"I could immediately see it was comfortable and homely and knew it was your house because I recognised one of your green dresses laid over a chair. There was also a pile of ironing on the table and plates unfinished in the kitchen. I presume your maid had taken advantage of your absence and left without completing her duties."
"We do not have one, Father." I could see he had difficulty with that. "We live alone, Father, and we share the household duties."
He looked at James with some surprise. "Do you mean you share all house work without help?"
James said, "Well actually, Elizabeth does the bathroom and toilet. Apparently I don't quite come up to her expectations in those areas."
"And I'm sure nor would I. This is rather Bohemian. But by the bye. I took the liberty of searching for clues for your whereabouts but found nothing. Just then your sister Miss Urquhart arrived."
"You saw Jill?" said James.
"Yes. She had been upstairs. We rather shocked each other. I must say she was rather scantily dressed even for the weather. When I said I was Lizzy's father she immediately sought to take care of me. Fed me a most delicious pie and suggested I should borrow James’ clothes. I hope you do not mind?"
"My sister gave you my last Turners pie?" exclaimed James. He looked dejected.
"I’m sorry, James, I did not know. I can tell you it did not go to waste. She also said that you would not miss your suit as she thought you used it only for gardening purposes.
"Anyway, I remembered you had told me about Mr Wells and I thought perhaps he might be at home in your time and you were with him. Your sister, who thankfully had some understanding of your adventures thought this was worth exploring too and offered to take me there. I can tell you I have never had such an extraordinary and exciting journey and I can tell you I have experienced the Roaring Forties. Such speed and your sister drove which such skill and determination that I am sure she would give Lizzy a run for her money in a dog cart race.”
A House Out of Time Page 2
