Time Travel Adventures of the 1800 Club, Book 14

by Robert P McAuley

  Bill found himself still debating whether or not he should see the woman he loved. This time travel stuff is crazy: you have to have an outstanding memory. I mean the last time I saw Shirley was in 1899 yet as this is only 1887 she won’t remember that as to her it has not happened yet. She’ll only remember the last time she saw me, which I think it was earlier this year. He shook his head, Oh man this is crazy!

  “Cab, mister?”

  Bill looked up to see a thin man with a tall hat and long overcoat with a blanket over his lap holding the reins of his small brown horse. He sat on the bench seat in the front of the two-wheeled, black with red trim carriage with his foot on the brake.

  The cab driver had unknowingly made up his mind for him. “Sure!” Bill said as he hopped in, “221B Baker Street, please.” The driver acknowledged him by flicking the leather rein onto the horse’s rear and they pulled away on the cobblestone street.

  The narrow streets were crowded as the Londoners took advantage of the sunshine to stroll the city and it took fifteen minutes longer than the usual twenty minutes to get to Shirley’s flat on Baker Street. Bill paid the man and exited the carriage by stepping onto the square block of stone placed on the sidewalk for just that reason. Actually, he thought to himself, although this street is now cobblestoned these blocks were placed here so that ladies would not drag their long dresses through the mud of the earlier packed-dirt streets.

  The flat on the second floor of 221B was on the dark side as the Victorian style of dark wooden floors with scattered dark colored area rugs drained any light that came in through the two windows. The window’s heavy, deep red drapes blocked out more of the sunlight as they tended to settle in the center of the slightly bent brass rods that supported them. The room was full with over-stuffed furniture and throw pillows with long tassels on the ends. Two of the walls were dark brown floor-to-ceiling bookcases filled with scientific, medical and other research books. A large, round cherry wood table which was almost centered in the room was piled high with two sweaters, one long wide brown scarf curled like a snake about to strike, two key rings full with keys, a shoe with a broken heel, a leather pocketbook with a ripped strap, a small dagger and sheath, two hats; one a deer stalker the other a Sunday-go-to-meeting type, three tea cups with dry tealeaves in them, five newspapers with holes in them where the ads were torn out and a pistol that was under repair. Two wooden chairs were tucked under the table. Against one wall was an overstuffed dark brown couch with two pillows on one end suggesting that it was often used as a bed and against the other wall was a small fireplace with a grill to keep the embers in. The two gas lamps affixed to the walls sputtered and fought against the slight breeze that entered the room, but Mrs. Hudson, the landlady, swore that they were fighting for their life against the darkness of the room.

  A tall beautiful woman stepped out of the bathroom, her long dark brown hair wrapped up in a towel. She fought to hold the robe closed with one hand as she held the towel on her head in place with the other while running to the small four burner gas stove to shut off the flame beneath a boiling pot of water. She took a teaspoon of dark tealeaves out of an open box and put it in a cup before adding the steaming water. She then sat at one of the two wooden chairs at the table and blew out through pursed lips.

  “Finally! My first cup of the day.” She helped the tealeaves turn the water dark by squishing them against the side of the cup, something that her friend Doctor John Watson said did nothing but lessen the beauty of the cup of tea as it brewed naturally. “The tealeaves must be allowed to transition in a normal way, not by smashing them.” But, she thought, John never seemed to be in a hurry.

  Finally satisfied that the tealeaves could give off nothing more she took a sip, rolled her eyes and sat back. A soft knock at her door brought her back to her senses.

  Not Doctor Watson’s knock, nor Mrs. Hudson’s. No delivery boy ever knocks, they bang on the door and besides I’ve ordered nothing. A salesman would have knocked on Mrs. Hudson’s door first and be promptly tossed out of the building. She glanced at her face in the small round mirror on the wall above the wooden icebox and quickly pulled loose the towel and shook her hair loose as she came down to a few other possibilities, Moriarty? Has he found out my disguise? She picked up the dagger off of the table as she slowly advanced towards the door just as the person knocked again. She shook her head and came to her final conclusion, That double knock, sort of a tapping, the twenty-five seconds between the knockings shows someone with patience . . . "Oh my Lord, its Bill!” She quickly opened the door and threw her arms around him, “Oh, Bill. This is such a wonderful surprise! Why didn’t you let me know you were coming?” Before he even got to say hello she added, “Come in, come in I’ve just made a cup of tea.” He stepped in and she closed the door and they kissed. They held each other in their arms almost afraid to let go for fear of waking from a dream. Finally there was another knock at the door and without letting go she said, “Yes, Mrs. Hudson? Is there a post for me?”

  There was a slight shuffling on the other side of the door as Shirley did the ‘hush’ sign with her finger over her lips to Bill.

  “Uh, no, no post, dearie. I just wondered if a salesman got past me as I was hanging clothes out the back window. It sounded like someone knocking on a door.”

  “No, no salesman here.”

  “Uh, did you say nobody was there with you?”

  Shirley smiled and answered the nosey landlady, “No I didn’t say that, dearie, I said no salesman was here with me.”

  After a few moments of silence the landlady said, “Well if you are entertaining Doctor Watson, I’d love to ask him a question about my poor large toe. As you know it bothers me some in the damp weather.”

  She answered teasingly, “Yes, I know and you must be pleased with the weather today. However it is not the good doctor that I’m with.”

  Now the shuffling was constant and after another few moments the landlady asked, “Well, as I’m here might I come in and collect the curtains as I’m doing the wash today?”

  Shirley shook her head at her persistence and said as she unlocked the door, “Why of course. I’ll get them for you.”

  The little chubby woman entered and seeing Bill said, “Oh, Oh my dear, had I known you had company I would have put it off until a better time.” She smiled and did an old fashioned curtsy, “I’m Mrs. Hudson, sir. This is my building.”

  Bill did a small bow back, “And I’m Bill Scott. So very nice to meet you.”

  “And, Mr. Scott, where are you staying?”

  Bill shrugged and Shirley rolled her eyes as he answered with a smile, “Well right now I have no room but I’ll probably go over to the Argile Hotel unless you have a flat available?”

  Before she could answer her eyes popped wide open as Shirley said, “Why of course she does! The top floor is vacant and the extra income would help Mrs. Hudson’s bills. Oh how wonderful. Thank you for being so kind Mrs. Hudson.”

  The landlady was shocked and wondered if she had indeed offered the flat to Shirley’s obvious boyfriend. “Well, well, I say, of-of course. The top floor is vacant but it needs to be cleaned and I wouldn’t want a friend of Shirley’s to stay in such . . . “

  “No problem,” Bill said, “I can clean it up.”

  “And I shall help him,” added Shirley to the elderly woman’s consternation.

  “I’ll, I’ll get you a bucket and a mop,” she turned to leave and Shirley asked, “Wait and I’ll get you the curtains to wash.”

  “I’m afraid, dearie, that I’ll have no time to do the wash today,” she answered coolly as she went down to her flat.

  The couple embraced, “I’m sorry about that, Bill. She really does watch over me much too much.”

  “Well, I can’t say that I’m upset with that and at least we’ll be only one floor away from each other.”

  She grinned and raised an eyebrow, “I wonder if that flat has a fireplace in its bedroom?”

  “That will
be the first thing I’ll check out.”

  They hugged and she slipped out of his embrace and said as she fanned her face with her hand, “Tea time, tea time.” She lit the burner and in a few minutes the water was boiling. She made a place on the table and apologized saying, “Sorry about this mess. It’s just that when I walk into the flat whatever I’m carrying I toss onto the table. Terrible habit.”

  “Well,” he said as he nodded at the items on the table, “I’d love to hear about the time you came home with a pistol and dagger in your hand.”

  Once again she put up her ‘hush’ finger to her lips and said, “Hush! Remember we agreed: no shop talk?” She sipped her tea, “So tell me how is Matt?”

  “Matt is doing well. He always says to give you his best.”

  “And Samson?”

  “The pup says hi too.”

  “I’m so glad that you came to visit. Is there a mission attached to the visit?”

  “No. This time the mission is just to see you.”

  She slid over and sat on his lap. “I’ve missed you so very much, Bill. I was going to surprise you with a visit as soon as I could get away from Scotland Yard.”

  “I-I, well I have so much to tell you.”

  “And I you! Let’s have dinner out this evening.”

  “Sure. Anywhere in particular?”

  She shrugged, “Simpsons-in-the-Strand? Opened in 1828. I know how you love old places and its one of the oldest chop houses in London.”

  “Simpson’s it is. Now maybe I’ll start to clean up upstairs.”

  “Oh silly. It’s not dirty. She just wanted to discourage you from taking the flat. Knowing Mrs. Hudson it’s clean as a whistle. Shall we go on up?”

  He nodded and she led the way. Once on the top floor landing they saw Mrs. Hudson doing a final sweep of a very clean flat.

  “I took care of the cleaning so you can just go on in whenever you wish.” She gave him a key, “Two pounds for seven days.”

  Her first smile was when Bill paid her immediately. She went downstairs and they entered the living room. “It’s the same layout as yours, Shirley, except there is nothing on the table.”

  “Funny.”

  He grinned and kissed her. The kiss lasted long and when they separated she said, “Is there a fireplace in the bedroom?” They entered the bedroom and saw a small fireplace facing the foot of the bed. Like the one aboard the ship it had an iron grate that held a small amount of coal. There was a tin of coal next to it.

  “There’s not enough space between the foot of the bed and the fireplace to lay down and I don’t see a bearskin rug.”

  She shrugged, “One simply must make do with what one has available.”

  He hugged her. “Let me put my clothes away and wash up. Then maybe we’ll take a stroll and have some fish and chips?”

  “Wonderful! I’ll get dressed and see you in thirty minutes?”

  “Thirty minutes it is.”

  Thirty minutes later Bill stood in front of a small mirror over the five-drawer dresser in the bedroom. He wore the same three-piece tan suit that he wore aboard ship and automatically felt for the two small bumps in his suspenders. He took out his communicator and sent Matt the usual message, waited five minutes and placed it in the sunlight for charging. “Really getting tired of this,” he said to himself as he tied his brown string bow tie. He was wearing his last stiff collar and thought, I do need to buy some more clothes and a new collar will be first. He went down and knocked on Shirley’s door. It opened to reveal a stunning picture.

  Shirley wore a yellow day dress with puffed sleeves that became a tight fitting sleeve that again became a puffed frilly cuff with six imitation silver pearl buttons. Five small imitation silver pearls buttoned her high stiff collar. The dress had a wide dark blue sash that wrapped around her waist and was tied into a bow at the rear. Over her shoulders she wore a dark blue wrap that draped down the back to a point just above the bow. Peeking beneath her long dress were a pair of yellow shoes with low heels and a small blue linen bow. She wore her long reddish brown hair in a French Twist with a small round blue and yellow hat held in place by a thin blue ribbon that tied into a bow beneath her chin.

  Bill stuttered, “Oh my, oh my, you-you look fantastic!”

  “Well thank you, sir. You cut quite a handsome figure yourself. Shall we walk?”

  Bill walked along the sidewalk with Shirley’s arm in his. He smiled as more that one man tipped their hat at them while keeping an admiring eye on her and more than one man was chastised by their wife with a swift pull on their arm. He noticed that just as in America the men walked on the inside of the sidewalk allowing the women to walk on the outside. He knew that this was a chance the men took knowing that at any moment someone in the house they were walking past just might open a window and empty a bedpan onto them.

  The couple walked along enjoying the sun as did hundreds of other couples and watched as kids played games that had disappeared in his time. In my time? He thought, I have to stop thinking like that as this is now my time. Get used to it Bill.

  She finally guided him to a corner store, Donny’s House Of Fish & Chips. They entered and sat at a small table in a crowded room where she ordered their lunch of fish and chips and a not-so-cold beer.

  When they were finished Bill patted his stomach and said, “I should have shopped first then ate. I believe that I am now two sizes larger than when we started out.”

  “Shopping is it? Fine. I know just the place for you and it’s but a short walk. Shall we?”

  They walked over to Liberty clothes. “They just opened in 1875 and men flock to shop here. It seems that they carry everything a man could wear and are priced correctly as well.”

  She helped Bill purchase what she believed he should wear and the salesman was stunned that he let a woman pick out the man’s clothes. The only time he was alone with his customer was when they entered the underwear section. He seemed quite relieved that she stayed outside and Bill grinned as the salesman stopped to look over his shoulder every now and then.

  They left the store with the promise that the store would deliver the packages to Baker Street before five that evening.

  It was three-thirty-four when Shirley took him into Brown’s Hotel on Albemarle Street where they had afternoon tea and she introduced him to smoked mackerel with a soft-boiled quail’s egg on a chicory leaf.

  “This is fantastic! I hope we have room left for dinner this evening.”

  “The walk home will do us good and help make room for dinner.”

  They walked home arm-in-arm and arrived at five thirty. As promised his packages arrived and were stacked on the landing in front of his door.

  “Just enough time to wash up and change,” she said. “We should be at the restaurant by eight.”

  “Plenty of time.”

  She arched an eyebrow and asked in a whisper, “Are you familiar with the bathtub’s plumbing? It is quite different from the one you have back in your time.”

  Matching her whisper Bill asked, “Are you willing to show me how to operate these contraptions?”

  “I . . . “

  “Oh, I see that you two are home. Well I had to tip the young delivery man two pence and he scuffed the stairs something awful.”

  Shirley grinned, “My, Mrs. Hudson but you must be feeling quite well today as I never even heard you come up the stairs.”

  “Well, yes, I am feeling quite well. And my toe feels rather good today so that would reveal how I came up the stairs without you hearing me.”

  Bill handed her the coins and Shirley said, “Bill please knock on my door at half past seven or earlier should you need assistance using the plumbing.” The landlady watched as Shirley walked down the stairs and thought that maybe her door needed oiling as she really had to slam it shut.

  Seven-thirty and Bill looked over the outfit Shirley had put together for him: a two-piece double-breasted black suit with thin lapels. A white ruffled shirt with a starched w
ing tipped collar that had a light blue silk tie held in place by a small black onyx pin. He decided to use his own suspenders and besides having the hidden compartment they ensured that his pants draped lightly on his black, highly shined, high button shoes. He had a light black opera cape and short brimmed black fedora. The New Yorker checked his pocket watch and said to himself, “Shall we go and meet the lady Mister Scott?”

  He went down the flight of stairs and was sure he caught a glimpse of the landlady sweeping at this late hour. He grinned, Hey, if snooping is your game . . . have fun.

  Bill knocked lightly and the door opened. She smiled as she stepped back to allow him to see her in her new outfit.

  His eyes went wide as he stammered, “You-you look even more stunning than before.”

  Shirley wore an off-white silk blouse with puffed shoulders that transitioned to tight sleeves down to her wrists where it again transitioned into wide frilly cuffs that showed at the end of the blue short jacket she wore over the blouse. Her full-length skirt was the same color blue as the jacket, but had light blue scallops that hung from her low waist and draped around the skirt. Each of the scallops had a quarter inch round white imitation pearl where it was attached at the waist. Where the blouse and waist met she wore a wide black linen sash tied into a bow at the rear. At the rear she wore no bustle or any other sort of ‘torture item’ as she would put it. At the bottom of her skirt was a three-inch wide light blue trim that was slightly scalloped with a quarter inch pearl at the apex of each scallop. Almost seen beneath the bottom of her skirt was a pair of black leather low heel shoes. She finished her outfit with a dark blue short brimmed hat that sat high on her upswept hair. It was held in place by a long pearled hatpin.

  “Shall we step out, sir?”

  They left the building and took a carriage across town to the restaurant, Simpsons-in-the-Strand and entered the plush eatery. Oil lamps lit the mostly wood interior that held two dozen tables each with its own candle. The floor was highly polished wood and while diners occupied most of the tables, others were occupied by couples, both men and women playing chess.