The Mud Rose

by Renee Duke

  The two women exchanged thoughtful looks.

  “James?” Mrs. Meadowbrook began.

  Dr. Meadowbrook cut her off. “I don’t know, Alice. It’s—”

  “Oh, please, James. Even if she’s too old to fashion hats herself, she could train up some of Martha’s workers. I can think of several ladies who’d be thrilled to have a London hat maker here. And it would make the children so happy.”

  If Paige had been harbouring any doubts about the Meadowbrooks’ suitability as parents, they were dispelled by those words.

  “What’s they talking about?” Hetty asked her, but it was Mrs. Meadowbrook who answered.

  “We’re talking about Papa paying your auntie’s passage to Canada so she can come and work for Mrs. Fairfax.” She smiled as her husband sighed and threw up his hands in defeat. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  “Not half!” said Hetty, her eyes shining.

  Mrs. Meadowbrook smiled. “How about, ‘Oh, yes’, or ‘We’d like that very much, Mama’.” She grimaced. “I think we’ll have to work on your speech a bit before you start school.”

  “Oh, I can talk proper. So can Old Rosie. Were her what taught us. And we’s been round Jack here a while now too. Listen.” She made a curtsey. “Thank you, Mama. We would be simply delighted to have our dear aunt come and reside near us.” She paused, then, “How’s that?” she asked eagerly.

  “Definitely ‘proper’,” Dr. Meadowbrook said with a laugh.

  “Yes,” replied Mrs. Meadowbrook. “Perhaps a bit too proper for the local children. As I said, we’ll have to work on it.”

  After ironing out a few details with Mrs. Fairfax, she and Dr. Meadowbrook took the children over to the Hutchins’s store to buy candy. A farmer who was there buying flour called out a greeting and asked the veterinarian if he could look at one of his cows.

  “Certainly. I’ll have to drop my wife and children off at home first, though.”

  “What about these three?” Mrs. Meadowbrook indicated Paige and the boys. “We told Mr. Hargrove we’d take them to those people they’re going to stay with. We must see to that, too.”

  “Oh, no. No, that’s okay. You don’t have to bother,” Dane broke in. “It’s not far. We can get there on our own.”

  Mrs. Meadowbrook looked dubious. “You might not be able to find the place.”

  “We’ll find it,” Paige assured her.

  “Well, all right. I suppose you’d better say your good-byes, then.”

  As soon as they had, Dr. and Mrs. Meadowbrook left the store holding Hetty and Pip by the hand. But a moment later, Hetty rushed back in. Snatching off her hat, she unpinned her Keeper brooch and thrust it at Paige.

  “Here,” she said. “I wants you to have this. As a sort of thank you. Me and Pip don’t have to have it to help us remember Old Rosie. Not now. Not now she’s coming. We’re gonna do all right here, the three of us.”

  Paige felt touched. “Thanks, Hetty. I’ll treasure it.”

  “Go on with you,” Hetty said gruffly. “It’s just an old brooch. Well, good-bye again. Take care of yourselves.”

  She gave an embarrassed grin and hurried after her family.

  As the door closed behind her, Paige turned to Jack, who was wriggling uncomfortably.

  “I take it the medallion’s giving out signals again?”

  “It certainly is. And, this time, I don’t think it wants to be ignored. It’s tingling like mad.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The medallion returned them to Windsor Castle.

  “Wow, this feels a little weird,” Dane said after they materialized. “We’ve never been gone so long before.”

  “Or been so far from the place we left from,” said Paige. “That makes it even weirder.”

  Jack agreed. “Yes it does. And I’m jolly glad we’re back. I didn’t like to say but, well, I was really starting to miss Mummy and Daddy.”

  Dane nodded. “Same here.”

  The two boys glanced at Paige.

  “And here,” she admitted, somewhat grudgingly.

  After a quick check of the station clock, they hurried to Granny and Granddad’s house without bothering to change out of their Victorian clothes.

  “Sorry, Granny,” Jack said as they entered. “I know we’ve been a while, but we wanted nice pictures, and there were so many tourists around, it was hard to get them. Where’s Granddad?”

  They found him on the sofa feeling, he claimed, somewhat better.

  “We’ve been gone long enough for the liniment to start working then,” said Jack.

  “Yes. You’ve also been gone long enough to get your grandmother passingly concerned, and me more than passingly concerned. Dane left here over an hour and a half ago. Allowing him fifteen minutes to get back to the castle beforehand, and another fifteen for the three of you to get back here afterwards, you must still have been with Hetty and Pip for an hour or so of our time. How long was it for you?”

  “About a month,” Dane replied.

  “A month? Whatever were you doing?”

  “Travelling, mostly,” said Paige. “Trans-Atlantic crossings took a while in those days.”

  Granddad raised his eyebrows and looked around furtively to ensure his wife was out of earshot. “Tell me all.”

  Paige opened her mouth to begin, but at that very moment, Uncle Edmond arrived. With him was Grantie Etta—who claimed to be seeking sanctuary.

  “From?” Granddad inquired, as Uncle Edmond settled the old lady into an armchair.

  “From that insufferable creature who’s inflicted herself on the Dexters. She turned up at my door a little while ago. With Lydia down the shops, I was at her mercy until Edmond rang to say you’d put your back out and he was going to take me to visit you.”

  “The last bit was news to me, but I was happy to oblige,” said Uncle Edmond, taking a seat of his own.

  “The woman’s a complete lunatic,” Grantie Etta went on. “Kept babbling about having awoken this morning with a desire to converse with those two rose bushes just outside the house. She claims they were calling to her. They appeared to be blooming nicely, despite their vast age, but she seemed to think that their dear little rosebuds could not possibly flourish unless she merged her spirit with them for a time. She was sitting between them, crooning, when we left. I’m surprised Alan’s family hasn’t had her sectioned and packed off to some sort of asylum.”

  Granddad laughed. “They’ve probably thought about it. He says their Bev’s quite a trial to them.”

  Cousin Ophelia’s name had originally been Beverly. She changed it every time she entered a new phase of being. Though others accepted this eccentricity, Mr. Marchand refused to call her anything but Bev.

  The children went off to change. By the time they got back to the sitting room, Granny was bringing in a tea trolley.

  “Here you are, Grantie. I’ve made some sandwiches and brought you a nice soothing cuppa. I won’t join you for lunch. Now that Avery’s got some company, I think I’ll pop next door for a bit.”

  “She just wants to let the neighbours know what an old fool I’ve been,” Granddad said as she went out.

  “And so you have.” Uncle Edmond gave a snort of disapproval. “Honestly, Avery! You might have been up to doing the races, but a tug-of-war?”

  “I figured I had the pull. I used to row at Cambridge.”

  “You did not row at Cambridge. You tried it for a week and said it was too much like hard work.”

  “I punted on the river.”

  “Hardly the same thing. But then, you never were too sporty. Unlike me, who got my Cambridge Blue.”

  “For cricket. Not exactly the most energetic game in the world.”

  “It still requires a degree of fitness. Skill, as well. And you know I had that. Fastest, hardest bowler they’d seen in many a year. Hurricane Hollingsworth they called me. Still do, when I play. And I do play. Keeps me in shape. Unlike some people.”

  Grantie Etta bange
d her stick on the floor and gave an impatient snort. “That’ll do, Edmond. You can stop sniping as well, Avery. You’re both half a century too old for sibling rivalry. Pack it up, and let the children tell us their adventures while the coast is clear.”

  Her great-nephews had the grace to look sheepish.

  “Sorry,” said Uncle Edmond. “Go ahead, my dears. We’re ready to listen.”

  They took it in turn, all three instinctively playing down their run-ins with the man in the cape.

  “My going overboard was an accident,” said Dane. “The guy didn’t mean it to happen.”

  “He meant it to happen for Hetty and Pip,” Granddad retorted.

  “Not necessarily,” said Paige. “He could have just been trying to scare them so they’d keep quiet about what they saw.”

  “In view of what they saw, and when they saw it, I doubt he would have been content with scaring them. And pitching children into the sea would scarcely have bothered Jack the Ripper.”

  “We’re not sure he was Jack the Ripper,” said Dane. “There were Ripper attacks the night Hetty and Pip first saw him, but he might have been coming from the scene of some other crime.”

  “Which the Whitechapel area had quite a lot of,” Uncle Edmond put in. “Violence occurred on a regular basis. Police did respond to the most brutal, however, and someone who committed such an act wouldn’t have wanted witnesses.”

  Dane nodded. “That’s why we thought it best to get them out of the country. Before I left I used Granddad’s computer to look up Hetty and Pip’s names on some passenger lists. I found them, but they’d been crossed off. That has to mean they were meant to go, but something happened to prevent it, like the guy catching up with them. If what we did was what we were supposed to do, their names should be back on that list. Can we look?”

  “Of course,” said Edmond. “Mind if I borrow your electronic servant, Avery?”

  Granddad nodded in assent.

  Uncle Edmond sat down at the computer with the children clustered around him. Dane told him what site he’d been on, and within seconds they were viewing the same list he had—but this time with a difference.

  “Look,” said Dane, pointing. “Hetty and Pip aren’t crossed off anymore. I didn’t know anyone else on here when I was doing this before, but see? There’s Mrs. Bathurst. And Miss Elwood, and the Barnardo girls, and Mr. and Mrs. Pender, and all the other people we met.”

  “Everyone but us,” Paige observed. “Our names aren’t there. And they should be, shouldn’t they?”

  “I don’t think so,” said Grantie Etta. “The medallion fixes things. Uses us, its travellers, to get things back to the way they originally happened before something went wrong. Once we have, Time adjusts. It’s as though we were never there.”

  Paige frowned. “Does that mean the people we meet don’t remember us? No, it can’t, because the princes left a message for us to find in our own time. They had to have remembered us.”

  “And their uncle, King Richard, remembered you, Grantie,” said Dane. “I know he did.”

  Grantie Etta considered this. “Perhaps the people we connect to are the only ones who do. To own, or even to have once owned, a Keeper Piece creates a bond with us, a bond that stays with them after we’ve gone. To everyone else, we simply never existed.”

  “Is that an insight?” asked Jack.

  “Yes. Yes, I think it must be.” She beamed. “I haven’t had one in quite a while.”

  “I’m glad you did,” said Dane. “Up until now, I’ve been feeling guilty about Mrs. Granger. I liked her. She was really nice. It was awful to think of how hurt she’d be once she and Uncle Clive got to talking and she realized she’d been tricked. But if you’re right, that wouldn’t have happened. He wasn’t due back in London until Christmas. If things got adjusted, there wouldn’t have been anything to talk about.”

  “And if Hetty and Pip ever talked about us, the Meadowbrooks would just have thought we were kids they met on the ship or something,” said Paige.

  Jack had a different thought. “What about the Ripper, or whoever he was? They might have taken notice if they said something about him.”

  “They probably didn’t,” said Grantie Etta. “It was an experience Hetty would have wanted Pip to forget. And since no one had believed their other tale, she’d have no reason to think the Meadowbrooks would either.”

  “He still must have been the cause of things going wrong for them,” said Paige.

  “Maybe,” said Dane. “But if he was, why didn’t the medallion start to tingle as soon as he was gone, and tell us to go home?”

  “It was damaged. It fixed itself, but I know it was damaged. Maybe it took it a while to work properly again.” She turned to the adults. “It didn’t tingle until we got to Kingston and the Meadowbrooks came to take Hetty and Pip. We didn’t pay much attention because we wanted to stay and make sure they were all right.”

  “Once we had, it really stepped up the pressure,” Jack added.

  “I dare say it was getting impatient,” said Grantie Etta. “Their time could probably not be officially adjusted until you asked to be brought back to your own.”

  “Which they finally were, after an hour or so gap.” Granddad frowned. “That’s new. And a little disturbing.”

  His brother disagreed. “No, it isn’t. They were gone quite a long time on their side, and time here doesn’t actually stop when travellers are off visiting other eras. It just moves very, very slowly until they return. It would be interesting to know what a year away would correspond to in our time.”

  “Oh, would it? I beg to differ. To find that out, the children would have to spend an entire year without the love and protection of their adoring family. And without boarding school or some similar separation experience to fall back on, I imagine even a month had them pining for kith and kin. It did, didn’t it?” Granddad added, turning to them.

  “Of course it did,” Dane assured him, “but at least we knew we could get back whenever we wanted. Lots of kids that went to Canada never got home again, and lost all contact with their relatives.”

  “I’m glad Hetty and Pip didn’t,” said Paige. “Be nice to know how else things turned out for them. Type in their names for a later date, Uncle Edmond.”

  Uncle Edmond did so, using both the Styles and Meadowbrook surnames. After a few minutes, he came up with a newspaper article dated June 12, 1900. He printed it out so Paige could take it over to show Granddad and Grantie Etta.

  “Read it,” Grantie Etta ordered.

  “Okay. It says, ‘Dr. James Meadowbrook and his wife Alice recently celebrated the marriage of their daughter Hester to local farmer, Benjamin Tisdale. The young couple will reside with Benjamin’s foster parents, Herbert and Maisie Vickers, until the completion of their own domicile on land Mr. Vickers has deeded to them. The marriage ceremony was performed by newly ordained minister, the Reverend Oliver Simmonds.’”

  “Sounds like Nolly did all right for himself too,” said Jack. “And Minnow, with the second lot of people he went to.”

  “So did Jane and Lizzie.” Paige went on reading. “‘The bride was attended by her best friends, Miss Jane Hutchins, who recently graduated from Queens University with high honours, and Miss Elizabeth Hargrove, whose parents are pleased to welcome her home after a month-long visit to England, where she has been renewing old acquaintances.”

  “Anything about Pip?” Dane asked.

  “Yeah. Old Rosie as well. I won’t bore you guys with the description of the wedding gown and trousseau. I’ll just jump to, ‘The bride’s going away hat was made by her great aunt, Rose Whittaker, aged, she believes, eighty-nine.’ And farther down it says, ‘Another family member in attendance was the Meadowbrooks’ son Philip, who recently arrived home from McGill University. Following in his father’s footsteps, he plans to get a degree in veterinary medicine and specialize in’—big surprise—‘horses’.”

  Dane smiled. “That’s terrific. The princes had
to lay low, so we had no way of finding out what they got up to later in life. It feels good to know things worked out so well for Hetty and Pip.”

  “That’s what we do,” said Grantie Etta. “Get things to work out. I wonder what the medallion has planned for you next.”

  “With luck, something a little less hazardous,” Granddad grumbled. “Something with more fun than frenzy. They’ll have to wait to try, though. We’re all going to be very busy for the next week or so. No one will have time to run them to prospective connection locales.”

  Grantie Etta raised her eyebrows. “Busy? Why on earth is everyone going to be busy?”

  “Getting ready for your birthday party, of course,” said Jack.

  “Oh, that,” Grantie Etta spoke dismissively. “I’ve already said I just want a quiet little celebration here at Rosebank.”

  “Which is rubbish,” said Granddad. “We all know we’d never hear the end of it if we didn’t throw you a really big bash. We booked the village hall, and put in for official congratulations, months ago, but there are other things to see about, such as the cake, decorations, local news coverage, consultations with the caterers, and housing arrangements for the out-of-towners.”

  “Entertainment, too,” Uncle Edmond put in. “Reg Dexter has agreed to perform some magic, Malcolm Marsden, and other family members gifted with good voices will be warbling, and Chris and some of his musician friends are providing an orchestra for the dancing Tania and Alan say no celebration is complete without. So, you’re right, Avery. People aren’t going to be at the children’s beck and call for a while. And Paige and Dane will be going home a couple of days after the party. Though I suppose they could use it somewhere in Canada—without Jack. Or he could use it here—without them,” he added with a sly look.

  “No!” all three children cried together.

  “Didn’t think you’d go for that. But you’re coming back for Christmas, aren’t you?”

  “That’s the plan, “ said Paige. “Until then, Grantie should probably put the medallion back in its box and keep it for us.” She reached into her reticule and pulled out Hetty’s brooch. “I’d like to hang onto this, though. It’s Hetty’s Keeper Piece. She gave it to us, just like the princes gave us their ring.”