“Thank you, sir.” She said and curtsied.
Then with what I presumed was his one and only chat up line he said to her, “Have you come out?”
“No, sir. Though I have thought about it. But I have concluded that despite men’s foibles and their one-track minds regarding women, I do prefer their company for the pleasure of satisfying my requirements.”
His monocle fell into his drink, splashing green liquor on to his white bib. She then curtsied again with a smile and moved on to the next ‘hooray henry’.
“I think he was asking if you had just come out into society,” I whispered.
“Yes, I know. Fun, isn’t it?” she giggled, taking another swig of her absinthe.
The next one was a little older and had managed to grow a pair of side whiskers. He had the look, like Henry, of a military man who didn’t mind standing in a long red line catching cannonballs. I noticed he immediately recognised Elizabeth.
I introduced myself to which he replied, “Ah! Mr Urquhart. I am pleased to meet with your acquaintance. Edward Ponsonby, late of the 35th Sussex.”
I turned to introduce Elizabeth but he got in first. “Miss Bicester, I am pleased to meet you again.”
“I am now Mrs Urquhart, Eddie.”
I’m sure I detected a slight disappointment in his expression but it vanished quickly. “My congratulations to you both.”
The use of his first name caused a devilish thought to come into mind. For I remembered Elizabeth had been out with someone locally and he looked like someone she might fancy. I asked, “Do you come from Horsham, sir?”
“Why, yes. But I do not believe we have met. Has my reputation preceded me? I hope it is not too derogatory.” he replied with a gentle smile to both of us.
Just then I felt an excruciating pain in my right foot. Elizabeth is not a heavy girl by any means and I generally regard her as quite light-footed. However, her heel, which was now grinding into the top of my patent leather shoe, felt like a steel pin. My hunch was right. He was an ex-flame. Nevertheless, despite the pain, I thought I could get a little more mileage out of this opportunity to dig into her past before my foot was totally broken.
“Not at all, sir,” feeling the heel pressing quite hard. “It’s just that I remember on a previous visit here, Elizabeth’s father mentioned a gentleman from Horsham in connection with her borrowing a carriage to visit him. Ow!”
A sharp nail from my nearest and dearest was now driving into my wrist.
“Are you alright, sir?”
“Yes. These shoes are rather tight.”
He looked down just before Elizabeth could remove her heel. I noticed she was a little pink in the face.
“You have my sympathy. “I prefer a pair of boots with armoured caps. I find them essential in certain situations.” Then looking at us both with an obvious knowing smile he smoothly changed the subject. “Now where are my manners? Who is this charming lady?”
“If you ask me, I might tell you,” said Jill sweetly.
He turned and looked at her, slightly open mouthed then back to me, “Does the lady usually speak before she’s introduced?”
“Yes, she does,” said Jill before I could reply. Then finishing off her absinthe, she handed him the empty glass, and asked, “Would you mind getting me another? I believe it’s not polite for a girl to get her own drink and even less polite to allow her to stand with an empty one.”
As he stood there looking at the glass and her in some surprise, she said, “Oh, I’m sorry. Where are my manners. Get yourself one as well. If you ask old Smethers nicely he’ll fill them to the top.”
He turned to me in wonder so I said, “May I introduce my sister, Miss Jillian Urquhart?”
He grinned and nodded as though everything was explained and said, quite kindly, “Ah, so you are Miss Urquhart. I am most pleased to meet you for I am told by Henry that you often bring refreshment to a dull party.”
This man had class. I was taking notes.
He then extended his hand to kiss hers.
“Ooh! You smoothie. Let me take my glove off. You don’t want fluff in your whiskers.” And she peeled off one of her long white gloves: a crime of such magnitude in Elizabeth’s society that I expected it to be reported in the next edition of the Tatler.
The shock of seeing her naked arm caused him to drop his monocle as well, luckily it missed her glass. Nevertheless he held his nerve and gave her hand quite a long kiss.
When he finally let go, she said, “Whew! Well, you passed the first test. Let’s go and get smashed and if you have some good stories, maybe you’ll pass the second test as well. Come on. Don’t be shy.” And before he could protest, she put her arm through his and dragged him off to help him refill their glasses.
I turned to Elizabeth, who was holding a small lace handkerchief to her mouth to hide her laughter. “You two are incorrigible!” she whispered.
“My foot really hurts!”
“Good! Fancy discussing a lady’s reputation in front of a former acquaintance.”
“So, he was your ex-boyfriend from Horsham. Seemed quite nice. Glad I didn’t have to compete with him.”
“Are you jealous James? I’m flattered.”
“Not a bit! What a suggestion. Where you in love with him?”
“Ha! So, you are! But some things should not be discussed. I do not enquire of you regarding your previous lady friends. Do I?”
“You don’t have to. You get all that from Jill during your so-called afternoon teas with her.”
“I confess the subject has come up in passing.” She said trying not to laugh again. Then looking across the room at no one in particular, “And I know why you did not pick up that lady called Jane from that party.”
“Damn! Do I have no secrets? That was a bad evening. I’ve learnt not to try and manage two girlfriends at once.”
“I am glad to hear it. However, having now seen your sister in action, so to speak, with poor Eddie, I now understand, when you first met me at that cricket match at Hamgreen what you were expecting from a lady. In the circumstances, you behaved very well.”
“Thank you. And so did you. Now,” I said, noticing her shocked look and changing the subject quickly, “let’s go and talk to Wells and see which one he is.”
-------------------------
Chapter Fifteen
E,
How well I remember the evening that Edward Ponsonby proposed to me! I was eighteen and had just come out. He had visited with my cousin Henry twice and I confess I became quite infatuated by his attention, kindness and manners. I think my cousin thought we would be a good match. However, I had declined his offer because I wanted to take full advantage of my opportunity to go up to Girton. Certain friends, not surprisingly, regarded me as a fool for although in James’ time, a woman can be a wife and a student, in my day such opportunities for a young lady living in the country were rare and a proposal from someone who is agreeable and with monies to support a wife, as Eddie was, was even rarer. I was therefore surprised that my father did not take great exception to my decision. Though later, I realised why. Eddie and I corresponded for a brief period after I went up until distance and distraction separated us.
After my marriage to James, my father mentioned that he had found my correspondence and asked if I wished to keep them. I declined and I could see from his expression that he had used it as a little test of my love for James. Nevertheless I could not resist enquiring of what had become of Eddie and discovered that he had joined the army, not due to unrequited love, thankfully, but because he wished to see a little of the world.
And now here he was again. Except he was now ensconced in a corner with James’ sister where I imagine in the next hour or so he would learn more about life than he had during all of his experiences of the Empire.
-----------------------------
J,
As I hobbled over to Mr Wells, Elizabeth’s father joined him and grabbed my arm.
“Excuse
me, James, but if you have finished your introductions I would like you, Elizabeth and Mr Wells to come to the Conservatory.”
Seeing no reason why not, we followed him through a small door into the glass panelled room. It was real Victorian, complete with palms and aspidistras and I promised myself yet again that if I ever got rich I would build one just like it for us.
The large red-orange globe of Mars still occupied a corner of the room and the brass telescope through which I had previously seen the canals of Mars stood on the mahogany table by the window. When we were assembled, Elizabeth’s father said, “I understand from Mr Wells that you have succeeded in joining time again, but unfortunately, it has caused an instability.”
Before we could question what he meant or what we’d done, he went over to the door and closed it. Immediately the room felt oppressive and I took Elizabeth’s hand. Inexplicably, the light through the windows from the garden began to fade.
“I think we will soon need some more light,” he said and proceeded to light a taper and ignite two oil lamps on the sideboards.
The room grew darker until only the lamps illuminated us.
Elizabeth’s hand was holding mine quite tightly now.
“I think we are ready, Mr Wells. Shall we begin?” said her father.
“Yes. As you saw this evening, Isabel and I have been reunited at last. However, neither of us are from this time. In this world, I was married to Isabel. Then I divorced her and ran off with another woman. In my world, I never married her.”
“But what about all your books? Did you write them?” I said.
“I did. However, the important question that confronts us here is: which world is this house in?”
“What do you mean? Surely it exists in all worlds.” I said.
“I do not believe it does.”
“But we have been in different worlds and always found it here.” said Elizabeth.
“That does not imply that it exists in every world.” said Wells.
“I don’t understand.” I said. “We know it’s outside time because it’s always 1895 here.” I said.
“But surely it cannot only exist in 1895?” said Elizabeth, “I was born and brought up here.”
“It is the house, Mrs Urquhart, that is in stasis.” said Wells. “It does not arrest the passage of time for the people within. The effect is embodied only in the structure of the house. Time itself does not exist for the house itself. It is a space between time.”
“You mean time flows around and through the house.” I said beginning to get an idea of what he was talking about.
“Yes. But it is more complicated. All time lines are bent in its vicinity and join at a moment in 1895 then diverge again.”
“So, no matter which world’s time-line you are travelling in, if you come to this place you will find yourself in 1895.” I said.
“Yes. That is how I understand it.”
“But, I must press you,” said Elizabeth, looking as puzzled as me, “Is it physically on the Earth? If, as you say, time is distorted here, what has happened to space? Oh, this is difficult. I mean is it really on the Earth or is it actually in another place?” said Elizabeth.
“You mean does it exist somewhere else?” I said, trying to follow her track.
“Yes. Imagine, once upon a time this house or whatever it is, existed on, say, another planet. Then something distorted the space around it and that piece of space along with this place was pushed or flung to another part of the universe. Like here.”
“Hell’s bunnies! What did you have for breakfast? That would suggest, somewhere else is a hole in space where it once existed. However, that doesn’t explain why are we here? And more importantly, why has it gone dark outside?”
“Because this space is moving and the house within it is travelling back to where it came.” said Wells.
“You mean we’re trapped here?” said Elizabeth.
“I would suggest that no one goes outside at the moment.”
I went over to the window. It was black.
I turned and said. “Just one thing. Do you know at what date in 1895 this house exists?”
“Inside here it is the 13th of March. The day the apparatus of Mr Tesla was destroyed by you, Mr Urquhart.”
------------------------------
Chapter Sixteen.
E.
If an orange glow had not appeared in the window at that moment I think James would have given Mr Wells a severe blow. It was more than a little unfair to accuse James of causing the house to move after bringing the world back together again.
We watched in silence and with not a little trepidation as the orange ball, for that is what it was, swelled until it filled the window. I was mesmerised and felt as if we were drifting in a hot air balloon, rather than in our house.
“It’s Mars! Look there’s the Marina Valley.” James shouted.
The great scar which crossed almost a third of the Martian surface grew larger and larger. In the shadows of its great canyons which passed across our view, wisps of grey cloud rose and turned white, evaporating as they caught the weak sunlight.
The valley began to slowly rotate until the three Tharsis volcanoes with Mons Olympus behind slowly rose over the horizon. As we moved closer I saw green vegetation spreading out from the canyons into the surrounding orange desert. Closer and closer we travelled as if in a dream until with a sharp jolt I was brought back from my reverie and found ourselves on the surface looking out over a dark green and orange canyon. For a moment, there was silence as we stared at the tableau before us then James exclaimed – an idea I had come to conclude but could not believe.
“Good God! Does this mean the house and all its occupants are now on Mars?”
I suddenly thought of Flory and rushed to the door. Mr Wells stopped me with a swift push of his hand.
“We do not know what might be there. Let me look.” And he turned the handle and slowly opened the door, He slammed it back within a second.
“It is Mars out there. We are detached from the house!” then with a heartfelt cry, “I have lost Isabel!”
“Calm yourself, Mr Wells.” said my father, though I could see from his eyes that he was having difficulty following his own advice. “Perhaps the house did not come with us. And they are all safe.”
With no understanding of what was required of us we gazed motionless at the Martian landscape. By now, most of the clouds in the canyon had risen and dispersed to reveal deep channels, lush with green vegetation. As the sun climbed higher in the sky, rays of light began to penetrate the deepest recesses, revealing by their bright glints the traces of a river.
James said, “For a moment I thought we had been transferred back to before the cataclysm. But I think we are somewhere in our time. That’s new vegetation.”
“Does that mean we can go outside?” I said.
“I doubt it. I don’t think the Mars surface will have our oxygen content and the atmosphere on a planet half our size will be far too low. We’d boil in seconds.”
“Then we are trapped in our glass bubble!”
“Possibly not. There must be some reason why we are here.”
Then he turned to my father. “Have you seen this effect before or did it just start today? I got the impression when you invited us in here you were expecting something.”
“On several occasions the sky has dimmed to almost blackness over the last few weeks. But normality always returned within a few minutes. I must admit on the first two I presumed we were about to receive a violent thunderstorm and thought when the light returned it had passed us by.”
“Had it happened today before we arrived?”
“Yes. We were in here when the phenomenon returned. For some reason, I did not hear the doorbell. Then I heard the loud banging on the door. By the time I arrived at the front entrance you had gone and I surmised whoever had called had turned to the tradesman’s entrance.”
“I hope we are not the cause of this nightmare.” I
said.
“Wouldn’t be surprised if we are,” said James, still looking a little dejected from Mr Wells’ accusation. “I reckon, from what you say, there was already instability here in space-time and our arrival from the future caused a twitch which pushed it over the top. The interesting thing to me though is that if the space occupied by this house or conservatory sprang back to where it came from, then your house originated on Mars.”
“A good hypothesis, Mr Urquhart,” said Mr Wells. “And your implication is that it was built by the Martians?”
“Possibly. Though I’ve no evidence for it.”
“Then just coincidence?”
I could not ascertain whether he was questioning James’ statement or challenging it. I could see James was becoming frustrated again with Mr Wells. One never knows whether he is participating or just guiding us to a conclusion of which he is already aware.
“Yeah,” replied James, shrugging his shoulders, “Just coincidence like everything else that’s happened to us. Except I don’t like coincidences. I prefer cause and effect. Such as every time something strange happens, the Martians seem to be involved. And you too, Wells, by the way.”
I could see his point although the reason was nowhere apparent. I tried to gather my thoughts or, to use James’ phrase when faced with a conundrum, tried to use both neurons. Unfortunately, I discovered they were both fast asleep and would not be woken.
However, Mr Wells, as usual, managed to raise them from their slumber. “Your house, or the site on which it exists, has been known to the Martians for thousands of years. Whether it was they, or a natural phenomenon, that caused the anomaly I do not know but I know they utilised its existence to create their primary portal to Earth.”
“Thanks, Wells.” said James, his anger rising again. “You let us try and figure things out first and then when we’ve all but given up in despair, you throw in the missing bit of the jigsaw.”
“It is only by thinking through a process until all that is impossible has been rejected, that the mind is ready to receive the correct solution and act accordingly.”
The Space Between Time (The Time Travel Diaries of James Urquhart and Elizabeth Bicester Book 4) Page 13
