by Richard Dee
“Hello, Jessamine,” she said. “You’re too late, I’m already helping Jackson.”
“So I can see,” she replied acidly, she turned and looked at Jackson, who was at a loss for words. Capricia had been fully clothed and standing by the bed when he had gone to the door. He knew not what to do, it seemed to him that Jessamine was trying not to cry, her hands hid her face. “I’ll leave you to it then,” she said as she left.
Jackson was mortified. He went to the bed and pulled the covers away. Capricia was revealed, fully clothed. She was wearing the same tight trousers as Jessamine had been. The skirts must also be the same then, designed to be removed quickly. It was the only way she could have done what she had. Capricia started laughing, “Did you see her face,” she gasped. “She thought that we were about to… and she was right.” She could speak no more.
“We were not!” Any attraction for Capricia had long gone. To be sure she was pretty, but there was just no spark between them. If he were honest, he had thought her to be an irritating character from the outset and if she had soured his friendship with Jessamine, he would not be amused. And Fairview had reckoned them to be a harmonious group.
“Come, Jackson, it’s only a bit of fun. We are all friends together, this is not like the life you had in the other part of the orphanage. Nobody here is trying to embarrass you or gain an advantage. I will speak to Jessamine and we will laugh at your discomfort. But never in a nasty way.”
She swept up her skirts and left him. Jackson fiddled with the belt and managed to fix it to his waist with little effort. When he closed the fastening on the inner belt the outer slid over it like a tram on a track. Now he saw the logic, in this way, all the pockets were easily accessible at any time, just by rotating the belt. One by one, he opened the pockets; he was amazed at what he found.
Chapter 11
Next morning, Jessamine and Capricia were deep in conversation in the classroom. They were not scratching each other’s eyes out, so Jackson assumed that normal relations had been resumed. He must have been the butt of some prank. When the others saw him enter, they stood and clapped him as he sat.
Vyner, a boy Jackson had had little to do with came over and sat beside him. “I hear you resisted the advances of our fair Capricia,” he said, his tone faintly mocking.
Jackson had decided that, if the whole thing were a tease, he would join in and play the game. “I did,” he admitted, “but only out of deference.” He paused for a moment. “Only because I had heard that you were her true love.” Vyner went red and the others, Capricia included, laughed.
“He has you there,” Capricia said between chuckles.
Vyner punched him gently on the shoulder. “Welcome to our world, Jackson,” he said. “The naive orphan is growing worldly wise, it’s good to see.”
“Settle down, one and all,” Fairview had come into the room. “Capricia, would you repair to Mrs Grimble, she has some matters for you to attend to.” She got up and left, closing the door behind her.
“Three of you saw the arm yesterday. Langdon and I have spent the time since discussing a strategy, this is our plan. Vyner, you did not but I’m sure that the rest will tell you all, if they have not already. Sir Mortimer has spoken with the Institute; the mysterious part we found is not connected with Professor Woolon’s work. The limb itself was manufactured in the Prosthesium, under licence from the Institute. The limb was last serviced at the Prosthesium works repair facility, attached to the factory. We assume that is where the piece was fitted, yet as far as we are aware, the people working there are not competent in much more than assembly under supervision, greasing and minor adjustments. This tends to confirm the presence of a scientist in the works. Woolon has given us a list of staff who might have the skills needed and who were employed by him in the past.
Alyious, you and Vyner need to investigate these names, find out what they are doing now and where they have been since leaving the institute. Mularky, you and Winifred will investigate Winstanley, Nethersole’s assistant. Jackson, you and Jessamine will become the patrons of the Ladies who Lunch, a charity for wounded soldiers. You will gain access to the works and look around. Hopefully, you can find this mysterious man, interview Rodney and perhaps even work out what his ultimate aims are.”
This was more like it, Jackson thought. He was involved in a real mystery and would soon be spying on a matter of importance. He could see the reason that he had been chosen, his knowledge of the Prosthesium would prove invaluable. While the others jabbered, he cast his mind back to the factory. It was surrounded by a high wall, with two gates, the main one used by most of the traffic, wide enough for two mobiles to pass and secured by tall wrought iron gates. And there was a side entrance, used by workers sneaking to the ale house. Both were guarded, as long as they were expected, they would be able to get in and out. But what if they were discovered? Then he remembered the way he could climb. As long as he had his quip-belt and boots, no wall could hold him in.
Fairview interrupted his reverie. “Jackson, if you can stop daydreaming about the pneumatic Capricia for a moment.”
There was laughter, did everyone know?
“We need to pick your brains about the layout of the factory. Come up to the board and draw us a plan of the place.”
Fairview was grinning as he handed Jackson a lump of chalk.
Jackson quickly drew a large box shape. “This is the outer wall,” he said. “It is fronted by Cobblebottom High Road and surrounded by streets of workers’ houses on two other sides.” He resisted the urge to mark in his old family home. “To the rear is scrubland and the River Vulpine, named after the abundance of the creatures thereabouts. The factory owns this land, it’s poorly fenced and used as a dump for wastes. Pipes lead into the river, supplying water for the steam plant; the pump is water-powered via a spiral screw wheel. We used to play there as children. Unless things have changed drastically, it provides a means of escape, as long as we can get over the wall. There is a Local; here. It produces all the power for the site.” Again he drew on the board marking the Local and the main works inside the walls. “There are two gates.” He rubbed portions of the box out to show the main gate on the High Road and the side gate.
“We can enter and exit through the main gate,” Jessamine said, “as long as we have credentials and are expected.”
“That is in hand,” Fairview said. “The leader of the Ladies, Mrs Claringbold, is a friend of Sir Mortimer and will cooperate with proof of identity.”
“Then do we need to know the other way out?” asked Alyious. “They will be legitimate visitors.”
“Alyious,” chided Vyner, “it’s always best to have a backup plan, and you should know that no knowledge is ever wasted.”
“Anyway,” said Fairview, “the way in unnoticed is essential to our plan, as two people will be seen going in and coming out. That is only part of the story; for you will be staying in, Jackson.”
“What do you mean?” Jackson was confused. “Surely, I will have to leave at some time.”
“Well you will both go in legitimately, it’s better than the clandestine approach, since we know not where to look. It’s always best to hide in full view. Another will come in over the wall at the back and take your place when you are supposed to be leaving. Meaning that you can remain inside after hours. You can snoop to your heart’s content, as nobody will be aware that you are inside. Then when you have collected all the intelligence, you can get out over the wall, we will be waiting for you.”
Jackson saw the beauty of the plan. “And who is this third man?” he asked. “Since it appears that everyone else will be engaged.”
“It will be someone who looks like you in stature. You will exchange jackets and hats inside the wall. If he is to be a credible you, it must be so. Either of these two overfed youths will never pass for you.” There were more laughs at that. “Come in,” called Fairview and a tall boy entered the room. “This is Harrison,” Fairview explained. The boy stood nex
t to Jackson. He was the same height and build, the face was different, but with the same hat it would not be so easy to tell them apart.
“Harrison will meet you in the men’s changing rooms; make an excuse to visit them when you have finished with Rodney, before you leave. He will be wearing a black jacket and cap. You will exchange hats and jackets, give him your pass and he will leave with Jessamine in your stead. Hide then, until the works are quiet, I’ll leave the rest to you.”
The boy shook Jackson’s hand. “I’ll be there, sir, never you fear.”
“Thank you, Harrison. He’s from another establishment,” Fairview continued, as the boy nodded and left. “In case of capture, he knows nothing about what you are doing, save that he has to help you. If he is caught before you meet, he will not lead anyone to you. Now, Jackson, back to your description of the factory.”
“The factory is on three levels, the main floor and two levels of offices above.”
“So this is where a scientist might work?” asked Fairview.
“Yes, and we have to find a way of getting to them.”
“Aphra, Mrs Claringbold, is arranging a meeting with Mr Nethersole, hopefully that will take place in one of those offices. I will leave it to you to come up with a plan to search the place. I suspect that you will have to think on your feet. I need to know what is going on at the Prosthesium.”
“Yes, sir,” said Jackson, his mind’s eye full of the corridors and stairways of the Prosthesium.
“You may sit, Jackson,” said Fairview. “Alyious and Vyner, away you go, you are expected at the Institute. Get a list of all ex-employees who may be able to construct this device. Track them down, where they are and what they are doing. Winifred, you and Mularky know what’s to be done. Jackson, you and Jessamine away to Mrs Grimble, she will fit you up to be gentlefolk, suitable to represent the Ladies.”
Jackson was now glad that he had paid attention, he knew that the Ladies who Lunch were some sort of force for good. They would undoubtedly take an interest in artificial limbs for injured men. They had started in a Cofé shop, that he knew, he had even visited the place. Fairview might have called them a charity; at first he had taken it to mean that they dispensed soup to the homeless and sold badges, like the other charities he remembered from his youth. Always poking their noses in and dispensing aid with a sniff, as if the recipients did not deserve the largess of the donor. Now, he had a different opinion of their worth.
Mrs Grimble was in buoyant mood. “Good morning all,” she said. “I’ve just finished outfitting Capricia for her next employment; we’ll not be seeing her for a while.”
“What will she be doing?” asked Jessamine.
“Well dear, you know I can’t tell you that. Suffice to say that it involves becoming a tutor for a child, largely to test the fealty of a certain politician, who may be the target of bribery and blackmail.”
“It sounds fascinating, and will she be gone long?”
Mrs Grimble sighed. “As long as it takes, poor girl, she may have to compromise herself to get what we need.”
Jessamine put her hand on the older lady’s shoulder. “I know, we all have to do what we dislike at times. I think of the greater good.”
She nodded. “You are all fine people, made old before your time. Now, to business. You must be well attired and fashionable. Aphra insists on high standards.”
“Am I suitable?” asked Jackson. “After all, they are called the Ladies, not the Gentlemen or the People.”
“You will do,” she said. “Aphra has many male adherents, once they came to see the justice in what she was setting out to achieve.”
Jackson nodded, still trying to remember more details about her. Beside him Jessamine whispered, “I will tell you all about her later, as I said before, in the Excelsior Char Rooms, she is a hero of mine.”
“And the good news, Jackson,” Mrs Grimble continued, “is that your clothes have arrived from Hardspill and Walker, so that we can outfit you perfectly.”
Jackson looked resplendent in his suit, with its long jacket in a vivid shade of red. Its cut hid his quip-belt and truncheon pockets, a tall matching hat and cane completed the look. The hat contained his backpack, with its extra equipment, folded in on itself. It made it heavy and awkward to wear, though it fitted snugly enough. He would have to remember the extra height in doorways. Jessamine was dressed in a gown of palest blue, her bonnet tied under her chin with a silken scarf. She carried a rolled parasol, which would serve the same purpose as the cane. However, she had to leave her belt behind. “I cannot wear it over the gown,” she said. “And I cannot use it if underneath, the design of the gown will not allow for a split, nor trousers underneath.”
“You need to be a demure lady,” said Mrs Grimble. “A man can get away with a belt and some sort of weapon.”
“Is that not what the Ladies who Lunch would call discrimination?”
Mrs Grimble smiled. “Perhaps, if you ever met Aphra, you could discuss it.”
“I think we would have a lot to talk about,” Jessamine replied wistfully.
“A mobile has been arranged, to complete the effect,” continued Mrs Grimble. “’Tis but a short journey but your arrival will be noticed. Were you to arrive on foot, it might seem strange.”
They took the costumes off and changed back into their normal attire. Mrs Grimble gave them wire hangers to take the clothes to their rooms.
“In the morning you will dress in them. We have received word that Rodney will see you. Remember, say nothing that might alert him as to your real purpose. You are Mr and Mrs Widge, Prosiah and Gertie.”
“And how we will conduct ourselves in a meeting with Rodney?” Jackson asked. “I know nothing of business matters. How does one arrange a shipment of goods, price, payment and the like?”
“You are only there for propriety,” Mrs Grimble said. Jackson had to remind himself that she was not the cook, but a talented woman in her own right, with knowledge of the world that eclipsed his. “In business, men are still expected to lead matters. The Ladies take men as chaperones, you can expect Rodney to direct all questions to you. Jessamine will take control of the situation, which may unsettle him. You will need to do nothing except look around and prepare yourself for your true purpose.”
“I need to talk to you, about our visit,” Jackson said as they left Mrs Grimble. “It will be my first mission and I want it to be a success.”
She nodded. “Did you understand all that Fairview said, about the Ladies?”
“I think so, but it was early in my training and I may have missed something.”
“Thinking of Capricia I expect,” she said.
Jackson almost blurted out the truth, that he had been thinking of her. Instead he just looked away.
“Jackson, you are so easy to embarrass,” she said. “I will tell you of the Ladies after supper, come to my room.”
~~~~
Jackson knocked on Jessamine’s door, the lace garment still heavy in his pocket. Perhaps he could leave it where she would find it after he had gone? He considered, she would know who it had come from and he wanted her to know it was his gift. She called for him to enter. “I’m in the bathroom,” she said, “make yourself comfortable.”
The room was a revelation, decorated in shades of pastel colours, it had plump cushions and an abundance of what Jackson’s father used to term ‘fripperies’. It was not at all what he had expected. There was a strange chair, at least he assumed that was what it was, it was wide enough for three, with a cushioned arm at one end yet had a curved back that only stretched over half the width. He decided not to sit on it, instead he perched on the edge of the bed.
Jessamine emerged from the bathroom, she had let her hair down and it cascaded to her waist in dark chestnut waves. It had the effect of making her look so much more appealing. She had also changed into some sort of silken gown, tied around her waist. Bare feet poked from the hem, the nails were coloured in dark crimson polish. To Jackson she lo
oked like some sort of ethereal vision. She sat on the chair, back against the arm and swung her legs up to lie longways.
“Do you like my humble room?” she asked.
He made the mistake of mentioning the fripperies. Immediately she seized on his remark, turning her head the hair flew around her face like a wave on the beach.
“What do you mean, Jackson?” she asked, anger in her voice. “That I’m not as feminine as the room, or perhaps that I am not entitled to some comfort?”
Jackson squirmed, he seemed to have the knack of saying the wrong thing.
“I didn’t mean that, you are, well, a lady,” he started to babble, the words falling in a stream. “It’s beautiful, I mean, it’s not to my taste but all the same… yes beautiful, as you are, I like your hair, it suits your face, what is that seat called?”
Why, he wondered, had he said such things? And with such haste, the words all running together. Jessamine seemed to have some effect on him, he was acting like a silly child, his brain and his mouth seemed to be unconnected.
“It’s called a sophir,” she said, apparently unaware of his discomfort, “from the Western Isles, it’s a lovers’ seat; you know what that is?” As she spoke, she bent one leg up, the gown fell away and Jackson was treated to a sight of the creamy white flesh of her thigh. Immediately he looked away.
“I’m sorry, Jackson,” she said. “I forget sometimes that you are quite the innocent. I am decent again.”
Jackson looked back, she had covered her thigh and sat demurely. That had been his chance, he could have given her the lace, told her its provenance. Instead he had hesitated; as Patching was fond of saying, ‘he who hesitates, is often no more.’
“Alyious said that I should not get attached, yet I can’t help myself,” he muttered. “I only came to talk to you about the Ladies, I should have listened in class.”
“Alyious is quite right,” she said. “We should concentrate on the task at hand. The Ladies was the result of one woman’s annoyance with the system that guaranteed men superiority. She saw that women had power but were unaware of it and she showed them how they might use it to make a better world.”
