Out of Time

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Out of Time Page 16

by Bruce Macfarlane


  I could think of worse ways of dying and I wondered how long I could last.

  But before I could reply she picked up the strobe and placed it my hand. Then she took my thumb and putting hers over mine pressed the button. We and the room began to fade again. Her aroma grew stronger and we were in the cathedral again. Now what? We needed to get closer. I willed myself to move and to my surprise the nave drifted towards us. I looked down at the graveyard. There were the creatures again. As I tried to discern what they were, to my horror we found ourselves descending towards them! I was moving by thought.

  Suddenly I saw a movement in the graveyard. Something larger than the creatures slowly rose like a ghost towards us. A blue glow surrounded it which added to the ghoulish atmosphere. As it came closer I could see it was dressed in some sort of Victorian garb with winged collar and a cravat or bow. Its hair or as I now realised, his hair, for I could see it was in the shape of a man, was mysteriously blowing in a non-existent wind. I kept my thumb poised over what I hoped was the strobe button. Elizabeth in her fear had melted into me. We were both one. I did not know whether she was me or I was her.

  Then a wave of Elizabeth's raw emotions of fear, a child's fear, like a hot breath washed over me. Her thoughts shouted at me and echoed in my mind. I felt her thumb press on mine but I resisted.

  "Press the button, James, PLEASE! I cannot cope. It is a thing of the Night Mare!"

  But I was riveted to the spot. He rose higher. All my childhood fears of the night flooded back. The creak of the stairs. A dark figure by the door. A memory of floating down a staircase. A long staircase vanishing into the darkness except now there was this phantom rising up towards me. As he got closer I noticed he seemed to be trying to walk or swim through an invisible treacle. His eyes moved left and right as though trying to grasp its surrounds. Then I felt him sense me. Sweat was running down my face. Elizabeth was sobbing. I felt her breath on my neck. His eyes, then his face, turned towards me. There was something familiar about it.

  Suddenly Elizabeth’s voice stung my mind “It’s Wells, James!”

  Before I could reply his voice came. I recognised the clipped accent.

  “Ah! I found you. Are you Elizabeth Bicester and James Urquhart? Ah, yes, you are. Please! Concentrate! I can’t stay long. I am drifting out of your space-time... Yes of course you have the conduit, yes, that electric diary.... Please calm down. Your thoughts are drowning me.”

  Elizabeth and I were now just one confused mind of jumbled thoughts. We were going out of control again but this time we were falling into an abyss of fear.

  His voice came again. "It is no good. You are not strong enough. This will not do. I will scribe in the diary then you must let go... Yes it is done... Go, go quickly! You cannot stay here!"

  I didn't need further encouragement. I pressed the strobe button, he and the cathedral vanished and we were in the attic. I was drenched in sweat. Elizabeth was, erm, glowing is the correct term, I think.

  "James, the dogs of hell could not drag me back to that ghoulish place. I feel, oh dear, I am quite weak, I thought I had entered Hell before my time!”

  I took hold of her. I could feel the moisture through her clothes. God knows what she thought I felt like.

  "Christ, Elizabeth, I am drained. When you don't believe in ghosts and then you think you've met one. God, I thought my heart was going to explode with fright."

  "Oh, James, we have gone beyond the realms of our imagination. And whoever said two minds are better than one has obviously not tried it! We are too alike. Oh, I must rest before I faint!"

  I held her closely. Her breast pulsated against mine. We needed to get out of the attic. "Let's go and have a cup of tea."

  We went downstairs. I was still shaking. Jill was in the kitchen.

  "God, you gave me a fright. You'll have to stop this, you two. That's four days this time. It wouldn't be so bad if I knew when you were coming back." Then she noticed our state.

  "Gosh, what have you being doing? You both look like you've been at it like rabbits again." She saw my look.

  "O, so what happened this time?"

  ---~---

  E.

  The reference to James, I and rabbits, was a little uncalled for and the word 'again' also caused me some consternation but after my recent confessions I felt it best not to protest. Nevertheless, it served to take the edge off our adventure and return some normality, if there was any normality to be found in this world.

  "We have been closer than you might think, Jill, and if you had seen what we have just experienced…...” I stopped. I could see by her mischievous expression that she was purposely misinterpreting me. "Jill!” I said. "We have been through hell!” Then I felt faint again. Jill came to my assistance

  "You poor girl, sit down. Would you like a cup of tea? Jim, what have you done to her?"

  We sat down and after two large cups of tea served without saucers we related our experience and our brief meeting with Mr Wells.

  "My God, what's it like being in each other’s minds? That must have been a test, Elizabeth, what's it like being in Jim's head? Is it really just empty save for a small box of sexual innuendos?"

  "Dear Jill, the intense emotional effect was so strong that I fear that even the rabbits to which you referred would have found it hard to keep up."

  This provoked a sudden burst of laughter from both of them which I had not expected and left me momentarily nonplussed until looking at Jill’s expression of mock surprise I realised I had inadvertently contributed another innuendo. These free conversations on sex I do find a little trying to participate and Jill does so catch me off guard.

  And James didn’t help by suggesting “You could run a comedy show, Elizabeth. With your diction and straight face you would have them in stitches! Your Sister Flory said it was as easy as game pie to make you fall into a trap”.

  “Flory! I will have words with her if I see her again. It is a bit much to find one cannot take refuge in one’s own family; James, you are taking too much advantage of me! It is not sport to take advantage of a lady with a reputation to uphold."

  At that point I raised a white flag as both their expressions seem to have a questioning attitude towards what reputation I was trying to uphold and so I joined in the humour; for I could see that they meant well and it was I admit a welcome relief from our recent experiences.

  Luckily James diverted the conversation, "It was pure emotion, Jill. Almost more than we could handle but the real question is what was Wells doing there?”

  “I do not know what he was doing there but I do know where that ruin is." I said.

  "What!" They said in unison.

  "It is the Abbey of the White Monks at Rievaulx in North Yorkshire. I am almost sure. For I have vague memories as a child visiting a great house near Helmsley and visiting the Castle and the Abbey"

  And then I remembered what Wells had said.

  "James! Wells said he had scribed something in the diary."

  ---~---

  J.

  I retrieved the diary from the attic. The screen was blank. I pressed it and the following words appeared.

  'Two ways. Your dimensions or the diary. There are four. Rievaulx, Fountains, Jervaulx and Bylands."

  I looked up. "Aren't these all abbeys, Elizabeth? Any idea what's special about them?"

  "I do not know, James, but I believe they are all in the North Riding and built by the Cistercians."

  "Mmh! as you thought you recognised Rievaulx we'll go there first in the hope we'll make sense of what we saw."

  I was exhausted and protested.

  "Please, James, I need to rest and if I am not being too indelicate, my clothes after that experience would not be fit for a Poor House laundry."

  “Don’t worry we’ll wait 'till tomorrow."

  And Jill said. "As for your clothes you still have all those bought in Chi at Jim's expense."

  I quickly displayed my empty wallet. No sympathy. Then a thought struck m
e.

  "On the question of clothes I think we must pack for the 19th century."

  "Why, James?"

  "Well, from whatever was going on in that cathedral it was in that century and I'm going to make sure I've got the right money and clothes with me this time just in case we end up there."

  Elizabeth came close to me. There was fear in her face.

  "Please, James, tell me we are not going back via that diary."

  "Quite right, Elizabeth. We’ll take a plane."

  ---~---

  E.

  I stood in a bright white hall, the size of a cathedral. Hundreds of people milled around me. It reminded me of St Pancras on the weekend of the newly introduced Bank Holiday or St. Lubock's Day as it was popularly referred to by the working classes.

  James was rather taken aback by the size of my luggage and blamed Jill quite unfairly in advising what I should take. He was good enough to carry most of it though not without comment.

  "Are you sure you have bought enough there, Elizabeth?" Said James lifting my five bags into a cart. I played him.

  "No, James, I have left three hat boxes behind as Jill said that you had your limits in this area."

  Poor man did look suitably shocked.

  "Actually I was more worried how Easyjet was going to fit it all in the hold and how many passengers would have to be left behind."

  "A lady requires a lot of effort to be acceptable in polite company."

  "But with your natural looks, Elizabeth, I didn't know effort was required." Before I bit he gave a smile that indicated he appreciated how much effort I had put in and proceeded to push my luggage along the hall. In this world compliments to a lady are so different but so much more rewarding.

  We passed on our luggage to the female porter at the baggage reception who on regarding my items gave a surprised look similar to James and I'm sure almost took pity on him before she caught my eye. Then we went to the main hall for embarkation. It was almost the size of one of the new London train termini. On one side great windows almost thirty feet square, perfectly transparent and without blemish, allowed a view of the white and coloured sleek birds I had often seen flying high up in the evening sky. I cannot describe their size with their enormous wings swept back waiting in rows but I think the great transatlantic steamers I had seen on occasion at Southampton would compare. Then one began to move. It trundled across the field like a great beast and came to a halt. Then as though briefly surveying its surrounds it unleashed an immense hidden power which caused it to accelerate. I had expected steam or a rocket trail but saw nothing. Faster and faster it went until I became convinced that this great bird would never leave the ground. But just as I had almost given up hope and that it would end in a terrible accident, to my relief its nose lifted towards the sky and it rose from the ground so slowly that I thought it must still crash but up and up it went, until sharply turning, disappeared into the clouds.

  I was much concerned that I might not survive travelling at such a speed for I had learnt that planes travel ten times faster than James' carriage! Would the air keep up? Would we be able to speak or would our voices be left behind? And they fly so high that apparently if one went outside one would either freeze to death or die of asphyxiation for lack of air! I was not reassured by James telling me not to worry as passengers were prohibited from leaving the plane whilst flying. Soon it was our turn. James took me down a tunnel with dozens of other people. Some were with children who I could see were very excited at the prospect of flying and seemed to view being catapulted into the sky as fun as visiting a Steam Fair. I resolved to be brave as them. But then children always think they are immortal. At the end of the tunnel was a door which I quickly realised was the entrance to our plane. The noise from what I took to be the engines was almost deafening. A uniformed usherette wearing more paint on her face than she probably needed showed us in. The inside of the plane was like a cylindrical tube with dozens of seats with a small passageway between them. Some were already occupied. I held James hand tightly for I was feeling a little claustrophobic.

  We found two narrow chairs amongst a group who judging by their accents, manners and beachwear had come from one of the northern industrial towns and had overindulged on a trip to the seaside. Their familiarity was quite trying but thankfully humorous though their compliments towards me were rather direct. When they saw me blush after one rather crude innuendo, one suggested that James should take me for a 'good night' in Hartlepool which would ensure that I never blushed again. I looked at James for support who at first reassured me by saying that he had no intention of ever going to Hartlepool with me but then joined in the 'banter' by saying he was going to take me for a 'good night' in Helmsley instead!

  I would seriously advise any other ladies from my time who find themselves stranded in this world to abandon all hope of finding a chivalrous gentleman who would defend her honour.

  I asked James if he could afford to move to a first-class compartment to which one of the party who overheard replied in their peculiar vernacular.

  "You're already in it, pet."

  At this point I had to laugh for I could now see there was no class at all.

  James had sat me next to a porthole through which I could see the outside world. I could feel the noise of the engines and strange mechanical movements below me though I noticed no one was worried. Just as I had almost convinced myself that I would be safe, to my horror one of the uniformed usherettes decided to explain to us what do if we fell out of the sky! Why she wanted to remind us of what I feared the most I do not know. I listened intently but to my surprise she did not dwell on how to arrest a fall but on what to do in the unlikely event that one landed and survived such a disaster. She then pointed to two small doors through which we could escape if such an event occurred. The operation of opening the doors suggested it required a man of herculean strength which looked beyond the powers of the frail gentleman sitting next to them. Then when she produced a small yellow bag and told us it was an aid to buoyancy if we fell in the sea I began to suspect that this was some macabre amusement to test our mettle. This was reinforced by the complete absence of any fear or even, incredibly, any interest in this performance amongst the passengers and led me to the conclusion that either everyone had volunteered for the Suicide Express or such disasters were a rarity.

  I looked out of the porthole for distraction and had a weird sensation that the buildings outside were beginning to move! I grabbed James’ hand before I realised rather foolishly that it was us. Lights flashed, bells rang and a sign appeared telling us not to smoke. Why anyone would think of smoking a cigar at this moment and in such a confined space I have no idea. Then James told me to sit back in my seat and 'relax' for we were about to 'take off'. His checking of the strap across my waist did not aid my relaxation. I was conscious that I was squeezing his hand very tight. Suddenly the noise of the engines started to grow louder and louder. I closed my eyes tight. The engines sounded like they would explode. What power is needed to lift into the sky such a gigantic bird? Then we started to move faster and faster. I could not believe the speed. The plane started to shake. I opened my eyes momentarily and saw buildings and planes rushing past. Then the wings changed shape! But before I could say anything an invisible hand pushed me back into the chair. My head pressed against the cushion. I could not move! What incredible force held me? Buildings flashed by. I was almost convinced that we would not lift off the ground and end in a mangled death but then we began to rise leaving the ground. My stomach churned. If someone had told me I was on a charabanc that had shot in the air and detached itself from its moorings I would believe it.

  Then, Oh my god! I was leaving the earth! I forced myself to look out the window. The land, the houses, dropped away becoming smaller and smaller. What speed were we going? I looked up and could see clouds then wisps of mist fly past us which grew thicker until we were in a complete fog. How could the driver see for I could see nothing? Suddenly the plane almost
turned on its side. There were mechanical noises and the sound of groaning metal. My stomach churned again. Just as I thought we were really going to meet our maker a little earlier than expected, I was floating above the clouds and the invisible force pressing me into my chair abated. I ventured to look out. There was nothing below me save white fleeced clouds scurrying across tiny fields and hedgerows and up above a blue, sunlit sky. I was flying like a bird! Oh, who would imagine such a thing could really happen? I was a wondrous child. What power had been harnessed?

  We were floating far above a sea of clouds. An immense calm came over me. I felt we were on a sailing ship or a balloon. Only the occasional tiny silver bird darting across the sky reminded me what speed we were travelling.

  The landing of the plane, however, I prefer not to describe for we descended for what seemed an eternity through a thick fog and the only indication that we had returned safely to Mother Earth was an almighty jolt followed by much pitching about which gave me the distinct impression we were all riding a gigantic Wiz Bang set off by a malevolent, demonic child. If this was not enough to make me think about my Maker we suddenly all lurched forward to a stop as though we had hit the buffers at the end of a train station! This was met by spontaneous cheering from the passengers which suggested that falling out of the sky was not as rare as James had implied.

  We were the last to leave the plane. The fog enveloped us affording no view through the port hole.

  Apparently we had arrived or should I say dropped out of the sky at a place called Durham-Tees Valley. James said its only claim to fame was that it wasn't in Durham or in a valley

  The usherette waved goodbye and hoped we would come again. I thanked her for her offer though with not much conviction. We walked down a steep portable stair case on to a wide concrete surface. The other passengers must have gone ahead for we found ourselves on our own. Our luggage was waiting for us at the bottom of the steps.

  I commented that I was surprised there were no porters to help us,

 

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