Up, Back, and Away

by K. Velk

  “Was Mrs. Grimwald working at Quarter Sessions then?” Miles asked, “When Maryanne and Taffy moved there?”

  “No. And they never thought to see her again. None of us did. Turns out, however, that Elizabeth’s mother had died just months after Morgan’s birth. Elizabeth never took to Swiss life nor her Swiss relatives. She always felt herself to be English and after her mother died, she took a job as a governess for an English family. She didn’t much like looking after children, though, and when she got in touch with Sir James for a reference, he asked if she would like to come work at Sessions. Can you imagine! To be a housekeeper for him was as near as she would ever get to her ideal. She agreed, of course.”

  “And because she was inside staff and the Davies were outside staff, they needn’t have seen much of one another…” Miles added.

  “That’s it, lad. Maryanne consulted me, of course, when she heard that the Fishers had hired Elizabeth Grimwald. She wondered if she and Taffy should stay on at Sessions. She couldn’t bear the idea that the secret of Morgan’s birth might become known, you see. Her fears were eased, however, the first time the three of them encountered one another. Elizabeth had no desire to speak of what had happened between her and Taffy, and it was clear that she had no inkling whatever about Morgan. And why would she? She never suspected that Taffy had even heard about the baby. Even if he had, as far as she knew, the poor thing was laying cold in a Swiss cemetery. Morgan was believed to be a year younger than he actually was, so the dates were wrong. And then, she was a bit of a snob. She would never have credited the likes of Maryanne and Taffy with the wherewithal to travel to the middle of Europe to find the baby, even if she had any clue that the child had actually survived.”

  “Didn’t you ever feel like you should have told her yourself? Told her that Morgan was really her son?” Miles asked the question before he had thought about its possible effect on Dorrie. He could see he had hit a very frayed nerve. Dorrie was clearly jolted and she paused before answering.

  “No. No. I did not,” she said finally. “Not in those days at least. I often felt sorry for Elizabeth, but I also felt strongly that it was right to keep silent. Morgan was well loved and cared for. As it turned out, Taffy and Maryanne couldn’t have children of their own, so he seemed to me a kind of reward to them for being so good. And, as for Elizabeth, if the truth ever came out, it would have destroyed her. I had no worries at all about it back then. I have to admit, though, it has troubled me considerable since Maryanne died…” She paused again.

  “Miles, open the top drawer of that chest behind you.”

  Miles did as she asked and found a leather drawstring bag and a brown business envelope sitting on top of a lot of carefully folded linen.

  “Take the bag and the envelope,” Dorcas said. “Those are to go to Morgan. Please. Do whatever you can to make sure he gets them.”

  The bag was heavy.

  “What’s this?”

  “That’s Maryanne’s life savings, going on two hundred gold sovereigns. She set it all aside for Morgan. She asked me to see he got it, once she was gone, along with the story I just told you.”

  Dorcas reached into the bag of coins and let a few slip through her frail fingers. “I won’t say there weren’t times when I thought to make a loan to myself and Eustace out of that bag. Some times were very hard on us – but I am so glad now that I never touched a penny. It was for Morgan, you see. It was Maryanne’s dying wish for me to deliver it to him, with that envelope.”

  Miles unwound the little bit of string that closed the envelope. Dorcas jumped. “What are you doing?”

  “Looking at the letter,” he said.

  “But it’s for Morgan! I’ve had that envelope for ten years and never opened it!”

  Miles had lifted the flap before she finished speaking. He saw two smaller envelopes inside. Both were sealed. One was addressed to Morgan. The other was addressed to Elizabeth Grimwald. He showed them both to Dorcas.

  “Well I never,” she said. “I never thought of that. Two letters. Well, I suppose she might have felt she owed Elizabeth some explanation too. Well, whatever they may say, I’ll leave it to you now Miles to carry out the delivery errand.”

  “I promise that I will do whatever I can.”

  “Thank you Miles,” her voice was soft and growing more faint now, but there was a new peace in her expression. “Thank you for coming, and for listening to all of this. I wanted you to know everything, and truly, as it happened, so you can tell Morgan if he has questions. I would’ve told him myself. I was the only one who knew the whole story. I was to give him the letter and the money and to answer his questions, as best I could, as soon as Maryanne was gone. That was her charge to me and I said that I would carry it out. I’ve never been able to forgive myself that I didn’t manage it.”

  “That’s part of the story that I know and can tell you,” Miles said. “It wasn’t your fault. Morgan ran away from home almost as soon as they lowered his mother’s coffin. He had been planning to go as soon as she passed, though he didn’t tell her or anyone else about it.”

  He debated inwardly whether he should tell Dorrie the whole story, of the Gypsy and the Banded Stone and the letter of instructions from Taffy to Morgan. The debate, however, was over almost as soon as it had begun. The truth would surely upset Dorrie when she had only just achieved some peace. It wasn’t his place to unmake her view of the universe as she prepared to leave this life. And then, truth be told, he was in a hurry.

  He put his hand, very gently, on her small shoulder. “You would not have had the chance to see Morgan before he left, and I know he’s never been back to England since. But don’t worry. I’ll make sure he gets this and the whole story with it just as soon as I can.”

  51. Treachery

  As Miles took his seat, at last, on the Tipton-bound train he was troubled by just one of the promises he had made to Dorrie. He had decided almost as soon as he pulled the treasure bag out of the dresser drawer that it would be unwise to try and bring such a thing through the Gate. He would stow away as much as he could carry – if he didn’t need to use it first. He felt sure that the Professor would want him to spend it here, if spending proved necessary or useful. Wouldn’t it be right to use some of it for the Peppermores? Not all of it, but for a few things at least? He wouldn’t pry into the letters, but he resolved that if he came across a place where this money would serve, he would use it.

  As the Pennine Hills rolled by the railway carriage window, Miles conducted one of his periodic inventories of his life’s essential items. He needed to be ready to leave quickly once he got back, assuming he could get to Ada and do the persuading he had in mind. Everything had to be right at hand. He had the secret now. He almost had the girl. It was as if the lights were all turning green, at last.

  As for the bike, Jack had been instructed to park the Sunbeam in its place in the wagon shed at Sessions. He knew Jack wouldn’t fail him, so he regarded the bike as safe. He reached into the haversack, now weighted with gold, and found the handlebar bag. Check. He opened the buckles and saw the Banded Stone sitting innocently on the canvas. Check. He pulled out the wooly jacket and reached through the hole in the lining – but he didn’t feel the cool metal or the cord of his earbuds. His fingertips found instead the edges of little card, like a recipe card.

  His insides seem to leap out of position and he had the sensation of a terrible whooshing – as though the air were being sucked out of the train car. He pulled the paper slowly out of his pocket. It was written with a graceful hand, “Miles. See me immediately. Mrs. Grimwald.”

  He felt madly over the rest of the coat, hoping to find the little rectangle, but it was gone. It was gone and she had it.

  The conductor passed by as Miles was frantically squeezing and shaking the jacket.

  “Have you lost something, son?” the man asked kindly.

  “Yes. Well. Something was taken from me.”

  The conductor frowned. “Do you think
it happened on board?”

  The question steadied Miles a little.

  “No. I know that it didn’t. I know who took it and I have some idea where it is.”

  The conductor gave him a consoling look. “Sorry young fella. It’s a hard thing to find you’ve been robbed.” He took Miles’ ticket. “As you’re going to Tipton you’ve some time to think about how you’re going to get back what you’ve lost.”

  The man was right. The initial shock ebbed away and was replaced by a blossoming red anger. He was furious about the intrusion, and the delay, and the possibility that Mrs. Grimwald might deplete or damage the iPod… but he had to keep his head. He knew what he was going to have to do. In his fury, he thought he might even enjoy doing it.

  52. Taking Care of Business

  It was just after six o’clock when the train finally chugged into Tipton. Miles walked briskly from the station to Morris’s Cycle Shop with the haversack weighing heavily on his shoulder. He had to get to Sessions as quickly as possible and he knew Morris had a truck. Before he got through the shop door, however, he was stopped in his tracks by the bike in the display window.

  Miles’ fondness for vintage English three-speed bicycles was what had led to all this. He had paused before the shop window of the Britannic Wheelman one day in Austin, was it only a year and a half ago? And in that innocently idle moment, his life had been changed forever and in ways no one could have possibly imagined. Now, in Morris’s display window he saw the most beautiful, gleaming, factory-fresh, 1920s English bicycle he had ever seen. It was a tandem, and he knew instantly that it had to be the bike that Dr. Slade had ordered for Susannah. He stepped in and found Morris sweeping up for the evening.

  “That’s a beautiful bike,” Miles said.

  “Indeed it is. That is an absolutely top-of-the line machine,” Morris’s salesman’s instincts were instantly activated. “It’s a Number 15a Lady-Back Tandem by Chater-Lea Limited of London. You’ve got your best quality weldless steel tubing there – all hand-polished before enameling. You’ve got your Dunlop Magnum twenty six-inch tires, and your Lycett’s saddles, front and back,” Morris gestured at each feature as he extolled it. “The gent who ordered it had it kitted out with the premium three-speed gears, three-speed tri-coaster brake and two other brakes as well as the quick-release hollow spindle front and rear hubs. All that’s wanted is wings and she would fly.”

  The bike really was a work of art.

  “How much?”

  “I’m half afraid to tell you,” Morris said coyly. “It’s the most expensive bike in the shop – one of the dearest I’ve ever had, now that you come to it. Thing is, this was a custom job, and the gent who ordered it changed his mind after I got it in. I told him I would try to move it for him, but he needs to get fifty pounds for it, to reimburse his cost.”

  “I’ll give you forty five pounds, cash, right now,” Miles reached into Maryanne Davies’ life savings and counted out forty five gold coins. Miles figured Morris had thrown in a decent profit for himself when he quoted the fifty-pound price. Morris winced as Miles counted.

  “Unfortunately,” Morris said, “at that price this gent is going to be out five pounds. I told ‘im I’d get fifty for it.”

  Miles stopped counting. “That’s a shame.” He put the coins back into the bag and cinched it closed “I know someone who would just love it, but I couldn’t give more than forty five pounds.”

  Morris squirmed. “He might take forty seven…”

  “I’ll give you forty six – if you’ll throw in a ride back to Quarter Sessions and have the bike delivered to Tom Pauling. I’d like to write him a note to go with it.”

  Morris smiled broadly. “Well, that’s a sharp bargain Mr. McTavish but I suppose it could be done. I guess you’ve come into a bit of money then, eh?”

  “Hmmm.” Miles said. “Well, yes. An inheritance.”

  Morris was obviously suspicious. Eustace said that sovereigns like the ones Maryanne had saved for her son hadn’t been minted in England since the war, so the coins themselves suggested something odd. But suspicious or not, forty six sovereigns spoke a language that Morris understood. He scurried to his counter and came back with a pencil, paper, and a little envelope.

  Miles scribbled a quick note, telling Tom that he had come into some money and that his plans were to return to the U.S. as soon as possible. “I am sure you will find a way to put this to very good use,” Miles wrote. “I know you will say that this is too much, but believe me when I say that it isn’t, especially considering what you have given me.”

  Miles pictured Susannah being steered around Westfield by Tom and thought how she would love the great downhill runs. He felt sure that Professor Davies would approve the expenditure.

  He handed Morris the envelope. “If you could deliver the bike sometime in the next couple of days, that would be fine.”

  “I know Pauling’s place and I’ll have the cycle there before dinner tomorrow,” Morris said gleefully. “I’ll throw in a big red ribbon if you like!”

  “No. That won’t be necessary but as you’re closing up now, I wonder if you would give me that lift to Sessions? I’m late returning. Really, I needed to get back there yesterday.”

  53. Ask Me No Questions

  Miles found Jack at dinner in the Lodge. As soon as his friend looked up from his plate, Miles knew that something was wrong.

  “Let’s go back to the Bothy,” Jack said quietly, skipping the preliminaries in a way that made Miles doubly anxious.

  “What’s happened?” Miles dreaded to hear the answer.

  “Ada’s gone. I’m sorry.”

  “What?”

  “I’m sorry. I knew you’d be upset, but she just wouldn’t stay. I got there, to the bus stop on Sunday, like you asked. And she was there, all right, with her coat, and hat, and bag in hand. Turns out she had been plannin’ on bein’ there even before you sent your note. She’d been plannin’ right along to head back to London and had only been waitin’ for her Saturday pay packet to make the trip.”

  “Oh no,” Miles moaned. How could it be?

  “I’m sorry!” Jack repeated, alarmed by his friend’s dramatic response. “I practically begged her to stay. I told her how desperate you seemed to talk with her.”

  “It took a lot longer than I planned up in Reddlegowt. Dorcas talked slow and she had a lot to say. I’m sorry. I don’t blame you. It’s just such a disaster. Did she say anything about where she was going?”

  “Nothing more specific than ‘back to London.’” Jack paused and looked at Miles searchingly. “She said a lot of other things though, very odd things – about you…”

  Miles almost asked, “like what?” He was standing on the crumbling edge of a conversation that he could not have.

  “Things about where you said you was from,” Jack continued, filling the awkward silence.

  “I’m from Texas,” Miles said.

  “Things about when you was from…”

  Miles took a deep breath. “Listen Jack. You’re getting ready to ask me about a lot of things I can’t talk about. Please. Don’t start. I am Miles McTavish and I come from Texas in the U.S.A. It’s true that I’m a friend of Morgan Davies, who was living there when I left. It is true that he told me to go to Quarter Sessions once I got to England. It’s true that I have no parents in this world, nor friends except the ones I have made since I got here. That’s mostly you and your family. I will tell you this, though. It’s also true that I wasn’t entirely honest about coming to England to find long lost relatives. As far as I know, the reason I was sent here, and this I haven’t told you before partly because I only found out myself recently, was to find Ada. I mean, I was told before I left that I would find a girl here who belonged elsewhere, and yes, who belonged elsewhen – but it was only in the last few days that I discovered the right girl. And now she’s disappeared.”

  Jack folded his arms across his chest. “And how is it that you got here, Miles McTavish from T
exas, U.S.A. How is it that you got here and now? And how is it that are going to get back to there and then? Hmm?”

  Miles stood silent for a moment then gave the only answer he could find. “On a Sunbeam, Jack. You found me right after I crashed it, but it has been fixed and the same Sunbeam will carry me back – and her with me – I hope.”

  “I have a million questions.”

  “Please don’t ask them. I have one other bit of business to take care of here and then I’m going to have to go look for Ada. I don’t have time to talk and I couldn’t say more even if I did. So be a friend again and just tell me where I can find my bike.”

  Jack tipped his head in the direction of the shed. “All present and accounted for. It’s parked under the canvas, like you’ve had it.”

  “I’ve got to go now. I don’t know what’s going to happen next. I may not get to see you or your mother and sister again. If I can I will, but will you tell them thank you, from me? Thank you, and nothing about what Ada told you? I mean, never tell them about it, or anyone else?

  Jack sighed. “I don’t understand this at all – but I am glad to have known you Miles. We’ll all miss you. And don’t worry. I’ll keep my trap shut about what Ada said. She thinks you’re mad, by the way. She said you were either mad or the world’s worst seducer – so she chose mad.”

  “Do you think I’m mad?”

  “Well, I can’t credit you as a seducer that’s for sure. But I don’t think you’re mad either. That’s what’s troubled me so about all that she told me. I don’t know what to think about it. It’s like, maybe the whole world isn’t what I thought it was, or how I thought it was.”