History Keepers 1: The Storm Begins

by Damian Dibben

  Jupitus realized that Jake was still in the room. ‘That will be all, Mr Djones.’

  ‘I … where should I …?’ Jake floundered.

  ‘Wait through there for further instructions.’

  Jake found himself nodding obediently. As he left the room he heard Jupitus booming, ‘Right, Macintyre, where were we? Co-ordinates south by south-east …’

  4 THE ESCAPE

  JAKE RETURNED, DAZED, to the library. His mind was in turmoil. Half of him, the logical half, wanted to get away from this crazy place – to call his aunt – to find his parents – to report the incident – to try and re-establish normality. The other half was urging him to stay: to find out who these people were; how it was that they knew so much about his parents; and, in particular, how they knew about his brother Philip.

  Nearly three years ago, Philip had gone on a school trip – climbing in the Pyrenees. He had been fifteen. He’d loved expeditions more than anything – mountaineering, sailing, canoeing – and had an unquenchable passion for adventure. He longed to trek across deserts, through forests and jungles, discover unknown places.

  On this particular trip he had disappeared on his own, without permission, to ascend a notorious peak. Night had fallen. Philip never returned. Exhaustive searches were made of many of the deep ravines, but his body wasn’t found. The laughter that had always filled the house of the Djones family had stopped; instead there was only miserable silence. The sound of the phone ringing had been the only respite from the unbearable tension. For a moment, sleep-deprived eyes would come alive with hope … only to be disappointed when the call was answered. Jake had been eleven at the time and the loss had left a deep, irreparable wound.

  Jake’s parents were strong; after that first shock they had tried to hold things together. They were always coming up with novel ideas, oddball excursions and family competitions, to keep everyone’s spirits up. But although Jake could appreciate their efforts to keep things upbeat, he couldn’t stop feeling resentful that they had also thrown themselves into their work, frequently disappearing to those blasted trade fairs.

  The door from the staircase opened and three people stepped into the room. The first was Norland, the ruddy-faced chauffeur. He was struggling with a number of smart suitcases and hat boxes. The second figure was new to Jake: a tall, haughtily elegant woman in a long fur coat with silky tails hanging from its hem. He guessed that this was the lady whom Jupitus had referred to as ‘her majesty’. Norland escorted her across the room and into the corridor beyond.

  The third was a girl, and the sight of her made Jake’s throat go dry, his lips freeze and his eyes widen, without him even realizing it. She had a quizzical, playful smile, long golden locks tumbling about her shoulders, and her large eyes, shimmering somewhere between blue and indigo, sparkled with life. She was slender and also filled with restless, radiant energy.

  With a few quick glances about the room, the girl seemed to compute everything that was going on. She spied Jake and swept over towards him.

  ‘What’s happening? Do we know? Nous partons tout de suite? Is it a mission?’

  Jake’s heart melted a little more: she spoke with an infectiously lilting French accent, asking these questions as if she had known Jake all her life. He struggled to force his face into a confident smile, but achieved only a tremulous grin.

  ‘At first, when Mr Norland appeared in the British Museum, I was put out. I had so much work to do,’ she continued, dazzling him with her eyes. ‘My research on Tutankhamun had reached a critical stage. Il a été assassiné – he was assassinated – without doubt: the forensic evidence is undeniable’ – Jake loved the way she struggled fearlessly with long English words – ‘and I am certain it was at the hands of that glorified accountant Horemheb. Then Mr Norland told me we were leaving at short notice. Mr Cole has said nothing to you – nothing at all?’

  ‘Er … not really,’ Jake stammered, nervously running his hand through his thick hair. ‘This is all a little new to me.’

  But the girl wasn’t listening. She was concentrating on the door to Jupitus’s office, which was twitching as if someone was about to open it. She called over to the boy with the parrot, who was still typing furiously.

  ‘Charlie, I don’t suppose you can tell me what’s going on?’

  ‘If I told you, I’d have to kill you,’ he replied dryly.

  Suddenly a thought dawned upon the girl and she turned back to Jake, her brow crinkling. ‘You said this was new to you?’

  Jake nodded.

  She gasped and her smile broke out once again. ‘Mon Dieu! You’re Alan and Miriam’s son!’ she exclaimed, looking him up and down and even walking round to examine him from all sides. ‘I can see the similarity. You have your mother’s eyes, no doubt about it.’

  ‘Jake, yes. Jake is usually … what … people call me …’ he offered in the deepest voice he could muster.

  ‘Topaz St Honoré. Enchantée,’ she said, shaking Jake’s hand with warm confidence. Her tone changed. ‘Norland told me the news of your parents on my way here. Please don’t worry about them; they are the most resourceful agents in the service, as well as the kindest.’

  ‘Yes … good …’ Jake found himself saying.

  ‘How old are you? I imagined you as younger.’

  Now he felt his throat seizing up, but he straightened to his full height. ‘Oh … I’m fourteen. You?’ he asked.

  ‘Fifteen, just.’

  ‘And you’re … French …?’

  ‘Bien sûr. Though from a different era.’

  Jake nodded knowingly, not having the slightest idea what she was talking about.

  The office door flew open.

  ‘There is no more time,’ announced Jupitus. ‘Take whatever is at hand and board the Escape.’

  ‘Mr Cole, sir. May I enquire as to the reason for our sudden departure?’ asked the girl, Topaz, pursuing him across the room.

  ‘Orders from headquarters. We are to return to Point Zero immediately.’ Jupitus handed Charlie the message he had been scribbling in his office. ‘Wire this to Commander Goethe – tell her we are on our way, then pack up.’

  ‘Has our location here been compromised?’ Topaz persisted. ‘Is the present situation connected in any way to the disappearance of agents Djones and Djones?’ she asked in a whisper so that Jake would not hear.

  ‘I’m as much in the dark as you are.’

  ‘Is it likely that we will be sent on a mission once we arrive at Point Zero?’

  ‘I really can’t say.’

  There was a flurry of activity. The uniformed men snapped into action, lifting the remaining crates and heading quickly for the corridor.

  Amidst this mayhem, Jake was rooted to the spot, panic-stricken. ‘Sorry … my aunt? Is she coming or not?’ he asked Jupitus.

  ‘She’s late. And we’re out of time. She was warned.’

  ‘I can’t leave without her.’

  ‘Well, you have to. For your parents’ sake. Anchor up in three minutes.’ And Jupitus was gone.

  The boy in spectacles came over, Mr Drake bouncing on his shoulder, the strange typewriter tucked under one arm. ‘Charlie Chieverley – how do you do?’ he said to Jake. ‘Mr Cole is right – staying in London is not an option. Who knows what could become of you? Much safer with us.’ Mr Drake squawked in agreement.

  Jake felt as if he was on the edge of a precipice. He thought of his mum and dad, picturing their warm, loving faces. ‘All right,’ he agreed.

  Topaz gripped Jake’s hand and squeezed it. He was led quickly across the room, through the doorway, and into a long, winding passage. On the walls were more faded paintings like the ones on the staircase down from the Monument: moments of history, snapshots of long-gone civilizations. Jake’s eyes were drawn to one painting in particular: a great galleon sailing through a storm towards a mountainous coast.

  ‘No time,’ Topaz said, pushing him on. Faster and faster he was led, racing towards a rectangle of hazy
light. Finally they emerged into the blustery open air.

  Jake took a moment to get his bearings. They had come out on an embankment overlooking the Thames. Foaming waves crashed against the banks. Jake’s eyes widened at the sight of a ship docked beside the river, yanking violently at its moorings.

  It was a sturdy, sea-battered vessel in the style of a Spanish galleon – similar to the ship in the picture. It was the type of ship that, hundreds of years ago, had set sail on heroic journeys of exploration to the New World. On the prow, a golden figurehead reached out her arms towards the sea, a warrior goddess with jewelled eyes. Below the figurehead, Jake could just make out the ship’s name, in letters faded by many voyages: the Escape.

  ‘All aboard!’ shouted Jupitus.

  Jake looked back down the corridor, desperate to see his aunt. For a moment Jupitus remained on the bank. He stared down the length of the storm-tossed Thames, its wild waters luminous under the black sky. ‘Goodbye, England, for now,’ he said under his breath. Then: ‘Untie her!’ And he jumped aboard.

  At that very moment a black cab screeched to a halt on the north side of London Bridge.

  ‘You’ll be all right in this rain, will you, darlin’?’ asked the driver.

  A woman stepped breathlessly out of the car. She wore a long Afghan coat, and a silk scarf to tame a mass of reddish corkscrew hair; she carried a bulging carpetbag. She slammed the door. ‘Believe me, I’ve known worse. You should try being in the middle of a battlefield in a storm like this, with half the Prussian cavalry about to charge. Then you really understand the meaning of hostile weather! Keep the change. No need for it where I’m going,’ she announced, handing over a bundle of notes.

  The cab driver’s face lit up. ‘Right you are, madam.’

  But the woman was gone, charging down the steps to the embankment, her long coat trailing behind her. At the bottom, she stopped dead and the blood drained from her face.

  ‘Stop!’ she shrieked as the Escape cast off from the embankment. ‘Wait for me!’

  On board, Jake’s heart missed a beat. That voice was unmistakable. He tore across to the side of the ship.

  ‘Rose!’ he shouted at the top of his voice. He held out his arms, nearly toppling over the rail and into the Thames. ‘You have to jump!’

  A handful of crewmen joined him, all shouting at once.

  Rose took a deep breath. ‘All right, all right, I’ll try.’ She tossed her carpetbag into the air. One of the sailors reached right out over the water and caught it.

  Then she took a few steps back and ran. She shrieked as she took off from the pier and sailed towards the deck, but she landed short, her knees colliding with the ship’s hull. She managed to grab hold of the rail, but her hand was slipping. In the nick of time, a sailor reached out and caught it. The veins in his neck bulged as he pulled her to safety.

  Rose collapsed on the deck, where she lay for a minute, her chest rising and falling like bellows as she regained her breath. Then she looked up at Jake and burst out laughing. ‘Thank God I made it in time. Thank God!’

  The sailors helped her to her feet and she threw her arms around him. ‘You must be so confused, my darling.’

  Then her eyes shifted and she stiffened. Jake turned to find the cool figure of Jupitus Cole standing behind them.

  ‘Rosalind Djones. There always has to be a drama, doesn’t there?’ He stared at her with his inscrutable eyes. ‘We would have left without you.’

  Rose stuck out her chin. ‘It’s nice to see you too, Jupitus – after fifteen years,’ she replied pointedly. ‘Considering I had just over an hour to pack up my entire life, I think I should be commended.’

  Jake observed the pair of them. There was a current of antagonism flashing between them.

  Not wishing Jake to hear, Rose drew a little closer to Jupitus and whispered, ‘You couldn’t explain over the phone, but you can explain now. Where were Alan and Miriam sent?’

  Jake craned his neck, trying to make out what was being said.

  ‘As I already pointed out,’ Jupitus replied in velvety tones, ‘that information is currently classified—’

  ‘Classified? Rubbish! That act of yours never worked with me. Where are they?’ Rose persisted. ‘Of course it was you who signed the orders!’

  ‘Signed the orders?’ Jupitus exclaimed. ‘Nothing could be further from my wishes than to have Alan and Miriam Djones working for the service again.’

  ‘Just tell me where they are,’ Rose repeated, rising up to her full height to look him in the eye. ‘Tell me!’

  Jake listened intently.

  Jupitus took a deep breath. ‘Venice,’ he announced. Then added gravely, ‘1506.’

  Rose dropped her head into her hands.

  Jake’s mind reeled in confusion. What on earth could Jupitus have meant?

  Jupitus smiled thinly at Rose. ‘Welcome aboard.’ He looked at his watch. ‘We dine in thirty minutes.’ He climbed down the steps that led below decks. ‘And you’d better tell the boy who he is and what he’s doing here. He doesn’t believe a word I say. Stations, everybody,’ he ordered, and disappeared from sight.

  As the Escape picked up speed down the Thames, heading for Tower Bridge, Jake stared at his aunt. ‘Rose, what’s happening? I don’t understand – where are Mum and Dad?’

  Rose fumbled in her carpetbag, produced an old tissue and wiped her eyes. She looked around the ship. ‘I never thought I’d set foot on these creaky boards again. It’s been fifteen years.’

  ‘You know this ship?’ asked Jake in amazement.

  ‘Oh, yes – when I was just a little older than you, I spent a good deal of time looking out from this deck,’ she remembered. ‘My last trip was to Istanbul. Or Constantinople, as they called it then. A perilous voyage.’

  She looked up. The wind was howling and the rain was starting to fall with renewed vigour.

  ‘Let’s go inside and I’ll try and explain everything,’ said Rose. She led Jake below decks as, at the helm, Captain Macintyre guided the Escape up the Thames towards the sea.

  5 DINNER AND ATOMIUM

  THE MAIN CABIN was a warm, comfortable space. The old timber floors were strewn with a patchwork of rugs. The sturdy oak tables, lopsided by time, were covered with sea charts and navigational instruments. On the walls there were paintings of old seafarers and stern-faced explorers. Jake would later discover that the Escape was a galleon from the seventeenth century, but in Victorian times it had been lovingly adapted to the ‘modern’ world and a steam engine had been set into its core.

  Rose led Jake over to sit on one of the sofas by the fire. She put down her carpetbag, arranged the bangles on her wrist, took a deep breath and began:

  ‘Many years ago, Jake, just before you were born, your parents made a choice. Until then, they had lived a – how can I put it? – an unusual life. It was a life of adventure and discovery and excitement.’ She paused for a moment, her eyes sparkling at the memory. ‘But it was also a life of great, great danger. When Philip was born they started to wonder whether they should continue in this perilous world. Your arrival three years later sealed the matter once and for all. They chose – and it was the most painful choice they would ever make – to lead a “normal” life. And I supported them by choosing the same.’

  Jake stared at his aunt, eyes narrowed in expectation of the next bombshell.

  ‘They kept a secret from you. But it can be kept no longer. A situation has forced our hand.’ Rose took a deep breath and proceeded in hushed tones. ‘You have an ability, Jake. A skill, you might call it. A power that very few others possess. You have had it – without even knowing – since you were born. Your parents have it; I have it; and everyone on this ship, to a greater or less degree, has it.’

  ‘An “ability”?’ was all Jake could manage.

  ‘First, tell me – did Jupitus use an instrument on your eyes?’

  ‘Yes, just after I arrived.’

  ‘And did you see shapes?’

/>   ‘Diamonds – I saw diamonds.’

  Rose gasped with excitement and clutched Jake’s hand. ‘Diamonds? Really? That’s wonderful news! Wonderful! Were they sharp? Well-defined?’

  ‘I think so, yes.’

  ‘Grade one, no doubt!’ Rose clapped her hands. ‘Like your parents, and me. It is not always in herited, you know. It is rare, so very rare.’

  ‘What does it mean?’

  At this point, Rose glanced round to check that no one was listening. ‘It means that the power is purer in you than in others. Diamonds are strong, the sharp ones the strongest.’ Then she confided, ‘What Jupitus Cole wouldn’t give for diamonds!’

  ‘So tell me – what is this ability?’

  Rose looked at Jake gravely. ‘You can travel into history. You can travel to it as other people travel around the world. And with diamonds, you can visit every destination, near and far.’

  Jake looked at his aunt and burst out laughing. But it was a nervous, uncertain laugh: was she completely crazy too? he wondered.

  ‘I’m not saying it is easy. No journey is easy. A simple journey across London can be full of complications. And a journey to another place in history is as fraught as anything you can imagine. But you can do what others cannot.’

  Jake looked up at his aunt and shook his head. He wanted to tell her that he’d had enough of this nonsense, but the look on her face remained serious.

  ‘I know you will have a lot of questions,’ she continued. ‘But soon you will see for yourself. Tonight we are going on a journey.’

  ‘To France?’

  ‘To Normandy, to be precise. Though it is not the Normandy of today. We’re going to 1820; that’s Point Zero, you see.’