“Come in, come in. Don’t be stranger.” Darcy led the way into a small entranceway with just enough room for a coat stand and a coarsely woven burgundy coloured rug. “Take off your coat and make yourself at home.”
Elliot hesitated before removing his overcoat, his most prized possession but from what his intuition told him, Darcy did not appear to be the sort of man to steal another man’s coat. He hung it on a coat hook and looked around curiously. He’d been in fancy houses before during the course of his work as a sweep, so the interior wasn’t a complete surprise. The lady of each house generally had all the furniture removed before he started work but he’d often glimpsed the finery in other rooms as he laid out his cloths to protect the carpets and floors from the unavoidable soot and dust.
However, Darcy’s home wasn’t a normal, run-of-the-mill toff’s house. There was the smell for one thing, a scent of perfumed musk that was both enchanting and nostril twitching. The carpet was thick and lush, and fabulously decorated with scenes of sailing ships, castles, lofty mountains, and armies of marching warriors. The walls were covered with paintings and drawings of weird and wonderful creatures the likes of which Elliot could never have imagined – creatures with long, curling fish tales and enormous snouts, bulging eyes and huge, pointed ears. There were depictions of these fantastical creatures in stormy seas, leafy forests, and open, scrubby plains. Elliot stopped and looked at them in wonder. “What are these?”
Darcy flapped his hand dismissively, as if the pictures weren’t important. “They’re things I’ve seen when I travel through my dreams. I have a friend with artistic talent who translates them into paint and ink for me.” He opened a door off the carpeted hallway and held it open for Elliot to enter. “Come into my work room.”
The perfumed smell was stronger in here, thick and cloying. Elliot rubbed at his nose, which had just started to itch. The odour was a tangible thing and he had the feeling his eyes would soon start to sting. “What’s that smell?”
“Hmmm?” Darcy seemed distracted now. He was making his way towards a large table in the middle of the room, the only item of furniture in here. A drop cloth similar to the cloths Elliot had used as a chimney sweep covered a big and bulky shape in the middle of the table. Black curtains hung across the windows, preventing the tiniest sliver of light from entering the room from outside on the street. Or perhaps the curtains were there to prevent prying eyes from peeking in?
“That funny smell. What is it?”
“Fuel for the machine.” Darcy grabbed a corner of the cloth and whisked it away to reveal the most extraordinary contraption Elliot had ever seen. It was a box the size of one of the largest crates that he’d carried down at the docks, big enough for a man to crawl inside if he was prepared to crouch low. The box gleamed brightly, the colour of polished gold, and a large dashboard peppered with knobs, levers, and dials took up one entire side. Two tall cylindrical glasses were attached to each corner and a small door stood ajar on the opposite end to the dashboard.
“Did one of your artist friends recreate another one of your dreams?” Forgetting the cloying smell for now and fascinated by what he saw, Elliot stepped up to marvel at the contraption. He reached out to touch one of the glasses but Darcy slapped his hand away.
“Don’t touch the leyden jars,” Darcy said crossly. “The jars serve as the device’s capacitors and I’ve put a lot of time and effort into getting them right. One small bump could knock all my careful work asunder.”
“But what is it?” Elliot kept his hands by his side as he walked around the table to view the box from all angles. “Is it a child’s toy?”
Darcy snorted. “A child’s toy? Don’t be foolish, man. It’s a time travel machine. As I’ve already told you, you’ll need to carry out your task in the future. How do you expect to get there without a time travel device?”
“So it’s a clock?” Elliot was vaguely disappointed with this idea. A clock was a useful tool for measuring time but he was already a man with far too much time on his hands. He hadn’t paid much attention to Darcy’s blathering about the future up until now because the man was clearly delusional, even if he did spin an entertaining tale. Tomorrow lunchtime was about as far as Elliot’s mind ever travelled into the future and sometimes even that was at a narrow pinch. He didn’t have a future to look forward to now that Annie was gone.
“No, it’s not a clock.” Darcy pulled a pair of spectacles out of his breast pocket and sat them on the bridge of his nose before peering closely at one of the dials. His face was so near to the machine that the tip of his nose touched the burnished metal and the reflection of his forehead loomed large and misshapen.
Faintly bored now that nothing was happening, Elliot turned away from the table to look at the maps and pictures that covered one wall. There were no paintings of the strange creatures in here but rather the images were of technical diagrams, charts, and curious plotted routes meandering through streets with names he did not recognise. He stroked his beard thoughtfully, a vanity he’d kept purely because Annie had liked it. “Are these your time traveling plans?”
“Some of them.” Apparently satisfied, Darcy took a step back from the table and tucked his spectacles back into his pocket. “We’ll go through them together soon. There are a wealth of details to work through.”
Elliot stifled a yawn. “It’s getting late and I’ve had a strenuous day. Can we do this in the morning?”
Darcy pulled his bushy white brows down into a frown. “I thought you were a man with stamina. That’s one of the reasons you were chosen for this task.”
Elliot returned his frown with a scowl of his own. “I haven’t accepted it yet. I’d rather spend the night in a doss house if you’re going to stand there and insult me.”
“Don’t get your feathers ruffled.” Darcy sighed loudly and adjusted another dial. “Ok,” he said at last, “I’ll show you to your room. You’re probably right about getting a fresh start in the morning. We have a lot to discuss.”
“I still don’t understand what it is that you want me to do. If you genuinely think I’m going to walk the streets of London at a time one hundred years from now, then you’re sadly mistaken. I’ll be tucked up in my coffin long before then.” He followed Darcy back out into the corridor, expecting Darcy to tell him at any moment that it was all an elaborate joke. “I doubt I’ll be quite as robust even twenty years from now.”
“No, you’ll be fine,” Darcy said absentmindedly as he began to climb the panelled wood stairs. “If everything goes to plan, you’re be as fit and healthy as the man who stands before me now from the very second you arrive in the future.”
“If everything goes to plan? What if it doesn’t?” Elliot was only half joking now. Darcy was a full-scale lunatic but he reminded himself that the old man seemed harmless enough. Elliot certainly didn’t feel as if he was in any danger, even if Darcy kept muttering about outrageous plans that made no earthly sense to him.
Darcy didn’t reply. He stopped to light a lamp on the landing before nodding at the first door of many. “You can have that room. The water closet is down below the stairs if you need to use it and there are extra blankets in the blanket box at the end of the bed. You’ll find a candle and tinder on the chest of drawers. I rise early but I prefer to spend the first hour of the day in my own company. I always take a light breakfast at 8am if you’d like to join me then.”
Elliot suddenly felt exhausted and more than a little drunk. “Thanks, guv’nor. It all sounds good to me.” He placed his hand on the door handle as Darcy walked across the landing to where several doors lay against the opposite wall. “And thanks for the offer of a room for the night. This house is deathly quiet compared to the tenements or doss houses. It’s been a long time since I’ve slept with only the noise of my own snores.”
“That was and is your choice,” Darcy said crisply. “No one ever forced you to sleep in a doss house. Goodnight, Elliot.”
Chapter Six
Ellio
t didn’t know where he was when he first opened his eyes. He felt as if a giant white goose, with fluffy feathers and impossibly soft and cushiony wings had swallowed him up. He lay on the sumptuous bed and stared up at the ceiling for several minutes as the extraordinary events of last evening slowly came back to him. Darcy Darcel was obviously as silly as a two bob watch but Elliot had enjoyed seeing his paintings and looking at his time machine. A bed for the night was a bonus and it seemed he was also about to get himself some breakfast out of the deal. He’d eat his breakfast, give his thanks to Darcy once again, and then he’d be on his way.
He sat up in bed and looked around the room now that it was daylight. He’d barely noticed his surroundings last night, only taking enough time to remove his clothes and fall into bed. The room was small but still a great deal larger than the one he’d rented at his old lodgings. The double bed took up most of the space and aside from the chest of drawers, the room was free of furniture. A red and gold Chinese rug covered the polished floorboards and the only picture on the wall was a framed oil painting of a bland pastoral scene. The entrance hall and the room Darcy had shown him last night were much more interesting than this dull bedroom and Elliot was suddenly keen to see them again.
He quickly pulled his clothes on and tied his bootlaces. He took a moment to pull back the curtain that covered window to peer out at the streets below, marvelling at how different London looked from this perspective although the sootiness and constant smoke still prevailed. However, the fine buildings and sprinkling of greenery he could see from here were certainly a far cry from the slums he was used to.
He left the bedroom and stopped on the landing to glance at the other doors. All were firmly shut and he had no clue as to which one was Darcy’s bedroom. He listened for a moment, wondering where Darcy was now. He’d warned Elliot that he preferred to be alone in the morning but it was already close to 8am. Where was he supposed to go to meet Darcy for breakfast? He didn’t want to walk through the house, opening random doors and snooping around without an invitation like a common thief.
He reached the bottom of the stairs and stopped to listen again, hoping to hear the chink-chink sound of crockery or any other indication that the breakfast preparation was underway. He’d just lifted his nose to sniff the air and he was concentrating so hard that he didn’t hear Darcy walk on silent feet down the corridor behind him until he spoke. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”
Elliot jumped in fright and whirled around, his fists held up in front of him as if ready to take on an opponent in a boxing match. Darcy dropped his eyes to Elliot’s raised hands and tutted, shaking his head as if he’d just witnessed a great disappointment. “You’re have to learn to control your jumpiness. You’re bound to get more than one fright where you’re going.”
Embarrassed now, Elliot relaxed his hands and allowed them to fall down by his side. “I guess I’ve grown too used to expecting the worst.”
“Ah, a pessimist. Yes, you’ll have to work on your optimism. No one likes a sad sack.” Darcy pointed to a door that stood open a few steps down the corridor. “I’ve just made some tea. Please, come and join me.”
Darcy’s small kitchen and dining area were elegant but plainly furnished, much like the bedroom where Elliot had rested for the night. There was a pert and square table set for two, an ancient cooker and a two-ring stovetop, and two more of the paintings of the fantasy creatures, although these were smaller than the pictures in the entrance hall. Elliot paused to admire one of the framed paintings, trying to imagine a world where such creatures roamed free. “I think I prefer your dreams to mine.”
“Nonsense. No man can ever truly share another man’s dreams. Sit down and slice yourself some bread. My housekeeper makes the most marvellous marmalade and I do recommend it.”
Over breakfast, Darcy explained more of the task that he had in mind for Elliot, although Elliot was unable to take the man seriously. Now that the full effects of last evening’s alcohol had worn off, it was difficult to listen to Darcy’s grave explanations of a world one hundred years in the future while keeping a straight face and withholding his laughter. Darcy was talking now of the number of different machines that were available in the future, automated devices that could do a man’s biding at the touch of a button. Elliot interrupted him at this point. “How do you know all this? Have you seen these wondrous machines in your dreams?”
Darcy’s eyebrows shot up beneath his white fringe of hair and he seemed startled by the question. “Weren’t you listening to everything I told you last night? As I’ve already explained, I’ve already made the journey to the future myself, and on a number of different occasions.”
Elliot could not remember him saying anything of the sort. “Made the journey to where?”
Darcy lifted his teacup but his eyes didn’t leave Elliot’s face. He slurped up a mouthful and then placed the teacup back on the saucer while holding Elliot’s gaze. “Perhaps you weren’t as sober as I thought last night. If you decide to accept my proposal, you’ll be traveling forward in time to the year 2020.”
Elliot laughed out loud, expecting Darcy to join in his mirth at any moment. “You can’t be serious. I know you’ve told me about some kind of task you want me to perform more than one hundred years in the future but the idea of actually traveling to 2020 is ludicrous. Do you really believe it to be possible?”
“It’s utterly possible. Come with me and I’ll show you something.” Darcy fastidiously dabbed at his mouth with a fine cloth napkin before he rose from the table. “Bring your cup of tea.”
Darcy took Elliot back into the room where the golden machine waited. The perfumed smell was potent in here today, almost to the point of making Elliot gag. He could see that Darcy had been in here this morning as there were several new items laying on the table beside the machine. He looked at them inquisitively as Darcy took his place at the end of the table. “What are those?”
“A few little souvenirs that I’ve picked up during my travels.” Darcy picked up a rectangular glass object, smoothly honed and a little smaller than a gentleman’s billfold, and he turned it over in his hand with the ease of someone who was used to handling such an item. “This device allows people to speak with one another without being in the same room. They don’t even need to be in the same country!”
Elliot wasn’t impressed. “I have heard of the telephone. It is not a new invention.”
Darcy passed him the smooth object. “Can you see any wires? Do you notice a receiver or a dial? This is nothing like any telephone that you would have seen before.”
Elliot eyed it suspiciously. The object was surprisingly lightweight and curiously pleasurable to hold in his hand, as if it were made to fit his palm. “Why should I believe you? This could be a lump of glass but you expect me to believe it is a telephone.”
“Suit yourself. You’ll find out soon enough.” Darcy took the so-called telephone back and instead handed Elliot a lone silver key.
“There is nothing special about a key.”
“Of course not. The special part of a key depends upon what the key unlocks. When you arrive in the future, you’ll find that many adult men and women possess such a key. It allows them to drive their very own automobile. Such machines are not merely the toys of the rich where you’re headed.”
“Right.” The man was moronic. Elliot tossed the key back down onto the table and glanced at the door. “I should be going.”
“You’re going?” Darcy’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. He clearly hadn’t considered that Elliot would be so eager to leave this morning.
“Thank you for the lodging and meal.”
“Can you try the machine for size first? There are countless women in the future who are depending on a man like you,” Darcy wheedled.
“What do I need to take with me?” Elliot patted his pockets, deciding to humour the man for a few minutes longer. Darcy Darcel was a friendly enough lunatic and it wouldn’t hurt to play along. Even without
checking his pockets, he knew that all he had with him were a couple of shillings, a pocket watch with a cracked face that had belonged to his father, and his worn deck of playing cards.
“Your wits and charm are a good place to start.” Darcy again fussed with the dashboard. “Something is sticking and I can’t work out what it is. Anyway, this is just a test run to check all the components. You’re not going anywhere yet.”
Elliot looked doubtfully at the machine. “What do you want me to do? Climb up on the table and wedge myself inside it?” This had probably gone on long enough but he’d allow Darcy the courtesy of finishing this last little game before he said his goodbyes and left.
“Yes.” Darcy’s voice was muffled as he again bent his head and fiddled some more. “Just climb in if you will.”
“And what am I supposed to do once I arrive in 2020?” Elliot couldn’t believe he’d just said those inane words aloud.
“Here, put this on. It’s specially designed to automatically impart some of the knowledge you’ll need so that it’s not too overwhelming when you arrive.” Darcy pushed a small rounded helmet across the table towards him.
Elliot dubiously fitted the helmet onto his head where it sat as snugly as a bonnet on a baby. He hauled himself up onto the table, opened the small door, and squatted down so he could waddle inside. It was a tight fit but by dropping his forehead down onto his bent knees, he was able to manage it.
Darcy’s voice echoed through the walls of the chamber but he almost seemed to be talking to himself. “I will arrange for someone to meet you but as I’ve said, I’m just making sure that everything is in its place for now. I have a lot more information to give you before you will be able to travel forward. You’ll need to be well prepared for the shock of how much the world has changed. It’s madness to allow you to go otherwise. Can you shut the door for just a moment or two? I want to make sure that it seals properly. There is an enormous amount of precision required to ensure that nothing goes wrong.”
Lay Down Your Hand Page 3
