Out of Time

by Bruce Macfarlane

  The next morning after breakfast a servant announced there was a Mr Cambio D’Ora to see me and that he apologised for not coming sooner. I immediately invited him to join me in the breakfast room. He was wearing rather old-fashioned clothes which looked surprisingly new. I realised he had got the year’s fashion wrong, but I said nothing.

  “Good morning, Mr D’Ora. Thank you for coming so quickly. As you know, we are hoping you could help us find Mr James Urquhart.”

  “Yes I can, madam. Everything has been a success.”

  He smiled at me with a look that indicated James had given him a favourable impression of my character.

  “What do we do now, Mr D’Ora?”

  “I’m afraid that is now up to you, Miss Bicester.”

  I was afraid. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean the time loop is complete, you have one chance and only one chance of seeing Mr Urquhart again.”

  “And then?”

  “It depends on your decision.”

  “Please be plainer, Mr D’Ora! I am not quite myself, as you might imagine.”

  “I know, Miss Bicester. I mean Mr Urquhart can no longer come to you but you can go to him.”

  “And how long can I see him for?”

  “As long as you like. But if you come back here the time window will close and you will not see him again.”

  “And where is he now?”

  “He is with your 'aunt' in Chichester.”

  “And if I wished to do such a thing, when would I have to make my decision?

  He looked me straight in the eyes. “Now, Miss Bicester.”

  I could almost feel that window closing as he spoke those words.

  ---~---

  J.

  We arrived back in Chichester and looked up Marco’s number in Midhurst. He answered.

  “Thank god you’re back.” He said. “It means it has all worked.”

  “What has worked?”

  “It means I can meet up with Miss Bicester and bring her back if you want her. Or more importantly if she wants you.”

  I looked at Jill.

  “Well, Jim, judgement day has arrived. Do I phone all my girlfriends and tell them that you’ve stopped chasing around or do I tell them to continue to keep their doors locked?”

  It was no contest.

  “And when do I have to make this decision, Marco?”

  “Now.”

  “And how long can she stay?”

  “If she comes, forever. I expect your time nodes will then break. I cannot believe they will ever join again.”

  ---~---

  E.

  Mr Ora and I found Henry and Flora in the morning drawing room and explained that I needed to visit my aunt in Chichester where I should also find James. “What do you think, Henry?”

  “I do not quite understand the urgency, but I think you must go with Mr D’Ora. He is obviously in earnest.”

  “On my own, without a chaperone, Henry? What about my reputation?”

  “Of course, Elizabeth. I’d almost forgotten you had one.”

  Before I could respond in an appropriate fashion he said, “I suggest you take my carriage and one of the maids and follow Mr D’Ora. I would suggest Flory accompanies you but I think you two share too many secrets for your own good.”

  Flory was studiously looking at a piece of needlework on her lap.

  “Thank you, Henry. Then I will take up Mr D’Ora’s offer.”

  I looked at Flory and she looked at me and then we both embraced each other.

  We followed Mr D’Ora down to Chichester in Henry’s carriage and arrived at the cottage where Flory and I had previously stayed with James and his sister. I alighted from the carriage and walked up to the porch. I heard the sound of a carriage behind me and turned just in time to see Mr D’Ora drive off. Thankfully my carriage was still waiting there. I turned, knocked three times on the door and waited.

  After a moment it opened and there was James.

  ---~---

  J.

  There was a gentle knock at the door. Was it Marco or Elizabeth? I looked at Jill.

  “Jim, I don’t envy you. What will you do if she is standing there?”

  “Part of me will use all the strength in my body to send her back.”

  “And the other part?”

  “It will use all my guile and wit to keep her.”

  She looked me in the eye briefly then came up very close to me and whispered, “Just open the door, Jim.”

  I went into the hall. I turned the lock and opened the front door. There she was. She was dressed in the powder blue I had seen at the Priory Park and she was carrying a large, embroidered bag.

  I opened the door wider. Then with only a brief hesitation she crossed the threshold.

  ---~---

  Chapter Five

  J.

  We stood in the hallway opposite each other in silence.

  Then I noticed Jill was giving me a look indicating that this historic romantic interchange between two persons separated by over 100 years was not quite up to the standard Jane Austen would expect, and interjected, “I think I need to rearrange the cacti in the conservatory.” And disappeared into the kitchen.

  Elizabeth looked at me.

  “Mr Urquhart, I did not know you had a conservatory.”

  “We don’t, Miss Bicester. Nor do we have any cacti.”

  “Ah, I see.”

  I suddenly felt her vulnerability. She had left her time, on her own, with no turning back.

  “Shall we go into the living room?’ I said.

  She hesitated. Jill had started making washing up noises in the kitchen and had turned the radio on.

  Then she followed me in.

  “Elizabeth?”

  “Yes, James.”

  “As you well know I am sometimes a little more forward than you wish me to be, but I assure you I have no wish to offend you. So if I do, will you promise to tell me?”

  “I will, James.”

  “I wish to ask you a question which I hope will not offend. May I?”

  I could see she stiffened a little.

  “You can, James, if it is within reason.”

  “Then ... may I kiss you?”

  She took a sharp intake of breath then her body relaxed. “Yes, you may, James”

  She came to me. She smelt of musk and oranges.

  ---~---

  E.

  I did not expect to be alone with him so soon and I certainly did not expect his proposition but his hesitance in delivery, so contrary to his usual confidence, reassured me. His manner by which he stole a kiss was also, I must admit, well played and to my liking and I began to realise that despite the lack of formal manners he was obviously not unsophisticated. He also drew away a moment sooner than I wished, which I liked, and caressed my cheek before dropping his hand to mine. This caused me to respond by quickly kissing him on his cheek, as a way of thank you, which when he saw my surprised look made us both laugh.

  However, I was now unsure of what etiquette in his time required and in truth I found I was unsure of mine. I looked to him for help.

  ---~---

  J.

  I could see we were at an impasse. I suddenly realised that we were both constrained by our own worlds and needed to understand each other’s conventions. Time for a break.

  “Well, Elizabeth. I think we should go and help my sister with her cacti.”

  “Yes, James. But I must be careful not to prick myself.”

  And she gave me a smile with her eyes which took me back to our first meeting when I thought I saw a door within was now ajar.

  We went into the kitchen. Jill had her best “I’m not curious” face on. And then devilishly said, “Oh Jim, have you been making pastry?”

  “Pardon?”

  “You seem to have some flour on you.”

  I betrayed myself by instantly feeling my cheek and found a trace of white powder. Elizabeth blushed.

  “Dear Elizabeth,
” said Jill, “you must borrow some of my cosmetics. They are very helpful in preserving our honour.”

  "Thank you, Jill, but you must remember that in my time a lady wearing paint, if that is what you mean, would have difficulty being regarded with any honour.”

  Touché, I thought and sided with Elizabeth.

  “Jill,” I said, “that’s not fair. How would you like it if you were transported back to 1873 on your own dressed as you are?”

  “Point taken, Jim. I’m sorry Elizabeth. Sisters, eh?”

  “You are certainly right Jill, and don’t talk to me about cousins. I am often surprised what Flory knows about me and what my cousin Henry thinks about me.

  Then Jill changed the subject with a better offer.

  “Anyway Elizabeth, now that you are here. I have a treat for you. We go to Chi tomorrow. First to book you in to my hairdressers then we will shop ’til we drop at Jim’s expense.”

  “What?” I said.

  “You owe me for that night in the tub, remember?”

  I had wondered when that would come up again.

  “OK, fair enough, but I’m coming with you to see what you are buying.”

  “Jim, you do know we only buy clothes to impress other women. Don’t we, Elizabeth?”

  “Why, yes, Jill, but I would not give away too many of our feminine secrets. We have so few. Remember, James, it is other women who are always our competition.” And her eyes darted momentarily from me to my sister.

  The next morning after an hour in Chi, I was dispatched to Waterstones where I spent most of the day out of harm’s way skimming through crap bestsellers and drinking coffee.

  It seems I was inexplicably ‘caught’ in Mark & Sparks lingerie section and then unjustly ‘accused’ of examining items which I might have thought appropriate for Elizabeth.

  ---~---

  E.

  My first impression of this new Chichester was its cleanliness, the absence of the odour of coal smoke and the taste of windblown dried horse manure so prevalent on hot days. The buildings had been scrubbed clean of soot and were gleaming white. Refuse, carts, horses, street vendors and urchins had vanished, allowing me to peruse the shops uninterrupted. The uniformity of the fashions was puzzling though, as it made it difficult to distinguish one class from another. Medical advances must have been miraculous as there was almost a complete absence of cripples and beggars. Later, after we had packed James off to a cafeteria for what Jill and I thought was inappropriate behaviour in a large department emporium, I quizzed Jill on this absence of class order and enquired whether they had achieved a truly egalitarian society. Jill said that in general poverty at the levels of my era had been eliminated, though the gap between the rich and those at the bottom had returned recently to levels last seen in the Victorian era and food kitchens were beginning to appear again. This suggested to me that a class structure still existed though not obviously apparent by the attire of the population on the street. Jill assured me that the English class system was still alive and well and although its application was possibly more subtle, she could tell a person’s class by their deportment, confidence, manner and the attention to detail in their choice of clothing and accessories.

  “These days it is not fashionable to flaunt one’s class, Elizabeth, but everyone still knows their place.”

  Before I could find a way of asking, Jill said she thought she and James were somewhere between working class and lower middle class, though they did not in any way regard this as a stigma. I did not venture to put forward my class position as I felt they had formed an opinion already, which I hoped had not influenced our friendship.

  “By the way, before you ask,” she said, “you will find Jim to be what I call an armchair socialist steeped in Marx, Engels and the old Labour party. He does, however, restrict his politics to arguing with the telly and discussions down the pub where normally by 11 o’clock the world has been put to rights.”

  I made a mental note to look up Mr Engels’ Condition of the English Working Class again for I didn’t want to be seen lacking in this political arena, then I asked, “And what of the Whigs and Tories? Are they still at loggerheads?”

  “Ha, well you won’t believe this, but they’ve formed a coalition.”

  I didn’t believe this and took this as sign that we should return to our reason for being in Chichester. I diverted our attention from the subject by pointing to a Farmers’ Market in the centre and suggested to Jill we might find bargains there, but she said that they were actually more expensive than the shops. Then she took me by the arm. “Now, Elizabeth, enough of politics. Let us go and work our way down the most exclusive shops in North Street and if you find something to your liking which I think might be too expensive, just remind me of Loch Ness!”

  ---~---

  J.

  We returned at about tea time with a cartload of bags and an empty wallet and after tea I was ‘treated’ to what they called a floor show, where there was much discussion about tarts, frumps, what should be revealed, what should not and more importantly what needed to be taken back; which of course would mean another shopping trip and an attack on my wallet.

  I must admit I found myself being a little bit more prudish than expected with Elizabeth’s clothes, which was noticed by both of them and resulted in some banter at my expense from Jill, who suggested that my normal criteria of less is more was not being applied with my normal vigour. I also had the distinct impression that Elizabeth, despite the shock protests of the occasional slip in rearranging her new attire, was revealing as much as she intended.

  Eventually we settled down, with Elizabeth choosing an outfit which a teacher at a nice school would find suitable. Her hair had been lightly cut to what the hairdresser had told her would be more ‘manageable’ with her curls loosened and now falling to her shoulders.

  “So how did you get on at the hairdressers and more importantly how did you avoid talking about your holidays and your interesting background?”

  “We decided I am from an old Anglo-Maltese family in Valletta on a long visit to England. I had visited Valetta as a child and therefore had some knowledge with which to converse. I also told her I had had my hair styled in an 1870s fashion specifically for a masked ball. This worked well and of course this allowed me to give great detail of my past without revealing my true nature.”

  I looked at Jill who said with mock surprise, “Aren’t girls clever, Jim?”

  I decided I’ll never believe a word girls say again, especially if they are working in pairs.

  Then I remembered Marco.

  “Elizabeth, when did you last see Marco?”

  “Why, driving off in a carriage from your cottage.”

  “So where is he now?”

  “Or when” said Jill.

  We decided to contact him in the morning.

  ---~---

  Chapter Six

  J.

  The receptionist at Manchester said Marco had taken an extended holiday and was not expected back for a few weeks. Which meant he was either in Midhurst or was playing games in the 1870s.

  Jill suggested we should visit the cricket clubs at Hamgreen or Midhurst to see if his whereabouts were known, but I was concerned that these could still exist as time portals.

  “I’m a little afraid to do that at the moment, Jill. Marco said our time loops should be broken but these cricket clubs may still be sitting on nodes in space-time from which we could be transported inadvertently anywhere or any when. We could find ourselves in the distant past or future in a world which is far more hostile or unforgiving than now or in 1873. Marco also suggested that these time loops were being created and destroyed all the time. Whole new loops could be waiting for us only to break before we got back. In fact, thinking about it, Marco might even be stuck in 1873!”

  “Then let’s look him up to see if he’s there.”

  “We already have,” I said.

  “Not in the 1870s. Remember, we looked up D’Ora. We d
idn’t look under Marco Batalia.”

  We grabbed a tablet and started looking.

  His name didn’t appear anywhere in the 1870s but amazingly I did find an article on the Loch Ness monster.

  “Hey Jill, we’re famous. There’s an article here about our Loch Ness monster in 1871. It was sighted by a Dr D. McKenzie, who described it as like an upturned boat which suddenly raced off at great speed. I think he was with Henry’s shooting party.”

  “Any pictures?” She said with a look that indicated that my answer would greatly affect the length of my short life.

  “No, don’t worry, there are no photos or references to a mad semi-naked woman dancing on top of the monster.”

  I quickly turned to Elizabeth, conscious that I may have been a bit too vivid in my description, but was gratified to see she was having difficulty trying to hide a smile. She caught my look and then failed miserably to look shocked.

  But then, while searching in 1873 for any unusual technological events, I came across Maxwell.

  “Look! James Clerk Maxwell publishes his theory of electro-magnetism in 1873!”

  “So what does that mean?”

  “Maxwell’s Equations!”

  “Jim, could you please elucidate a bit more for us mere mortals”

  “Maxwell’s equations combine electrical and magnetic fields and define the speed of light. They form the basis of all modern physics. We had spent hundreds of years trying to measure how fast light travels and Maxwell showed that it is an integral part of the fabric of the Universe. With no Maxwell equations, there is no Einstein, no General Relativity, no GPS, no space-time and more importantly, no Star Trek!”

  Jill turned to Elizabeth. “As you can see, Elizabeth, living with a scientist …”

  Elizabeth replied, “Dear Jill, try living with people who reject Mr Darwin with tedious quotes from every line in the Bible.”

  “Forgive me, Elizabeth, I didn’t know in your time you knew we were descended from monkeys.”

  “Miss Urquhart, I do not believe we are not descended from monkeys. I believe that all species have evolved together and everything that lives today has found its own path and place here through natural selection and is not inferior or superior to us.”