by Sadie Swift
His eyes were locked on those of the male servant. Did he know him? I didn’t recall seeing him in the stately house. And then it struck me – I had seen him in the stately house, but not in the flesh - on the cover of a certain weekly publication. Oh dear.
I felt something touch my hair and quickly turned round to find the lady very close to me holding my hat. How had she managed to come so close without me hearing? A strange feeling as if I were naked before her stole over me as her eyes minutely scrutinised me from slightly muddy shoes to the top of my now exposed pink hair. Her other hand stroked my dress and seemed to leave burning trails across my skin. For some reason I felt a hot blush over my cheeks.
“Beautiful,” she whispered, as if examining a statue created by an Old Master.
My mouth felt suddenly dry and I desperately swallowed before I spoke in a croak. “Hel… er, hello, I’m Miss Love… er, lady, and this is Sir Percival.”
Her eyes held mine and words seemed to form in my head, “We know. Come, let us leave the others to their own devices.”
I felt a burning heat on my arm as she insistently pulled me to go along with her, but the purple spark inside of me brightened and I fought back against the movement. ‘Don’t go with her!’ it shouted. But she was such a lovely lady and had my hat, why would it warn me of something?
Her perfume seemed to intoxicate me, filling each and every sense I had. But the spark grew, burning away the scent. ‘Get away from her!’ it cried.
As she turned me to accompany her to a door I’d not seen before my feet refused to move and I stumbled to the floor. The polished wood was cold against my hands and I saw the reflection of the red lady standing over me. Somehow I hadn’t noticed it before but her lips were bright red - the colour of blood, and her mouth was open slightly showing two overly long teeth. Suddenly the spark burst into a purple blaze, ‘Get out!’ it screamed. ‘Get away!’
Pushing myself up and avoiding looking at the red lady I grabbed my umbrella and Sir Percival and rushed him backwards towards the door we’d come in. But it wasn’t there.
Four
Sir Percival’s eyes were glued to those of the servant behind me. I heard the steps of their shiny boots head towards us, and felt the red lady’s hand against my arm. ‘Get OUT!’ the purple blaze screamed even louder.
The door had to be there! I forced Sir Percival to turn round and ran him at the wall where the door had to be.
“Oof!” he said, bouncing off the wall. “Miss Love–” he began before I pushed him against it again. Did I catch some movement in the wall?
I didn’t dare look back - I just knew we had to get out and away from the three other people in the room.
“Push, Sir Percival!” I cried. “We need to get out!”
“But–!”
Another push ceased his inane question. There! I spied a thin vertical line of light. Arms grabbed me from behind but I quickly raised my foot and stamped at where I’d seen the line. The door burst open and I yanked my arms away, wildly swinging my umbrella behind me and feeling it gratifyingly smack against flesh. I grabbed onto anything of Sir Percival I could and forced ourselves through the door. We stumbled to the floor into blessed daylight.
Umbrella at the ready I turned to defend ourselves against the red lady and her companions, but the door quickly swung back closed. The splintered edge was the only evidence it ever existed.
Catching my breath I noticed the bright light from the porthole was moving over the floor. Why was it doing that?
Quickly I got to my feet and looked out. My stomach jumped at seeing the crowd far below. I was sure this wasn’t meant to happen when we were still aboard. Where were we going?
Still on the floor Sir Percival groaned. Better that than whatever those three planned to do with us, I thought grimly. Then realised the red lady still had my hat. I thought for a moment then decided I never really liked it anyway.
Grabbing Sir Percival’s arm I helped him to his feet.
“Miss Lovelady?”
He seemed surprised to see me.
“We’re moving, Sir Percival.”
Still in slight shock he turned to look at the door we’d exited moments before. “What happened?”
“I believe I saved us.”
He looked around the corridor and peered out a porthole. “But we’re still aboard?”
“Yes.”
“And moving?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
We needed to get off and, although I resisted the thought, knew it would help if we had the Liaison with us. I decided the best way forwards would be to catch up with the portly officer and the rest of the visitors. With that in mind I took Sir Percival’s arm and hastened up the corridor in the direction they’d taken. Still slightly bruised and battered, and probably wondering what was going on, he let me lead him.
I realised that the corridor led along the side of the main reception room, and as I’d heard the other visitors in the other part of the room there must be another entrance. Preferably one not disguised as part of the wall.
The corridor split in two ahead of us with one part curving to our left and the other heading up another set of stairs. Just how big was this airship?
The only possible route to the other part of the state reception room was around to the left so I dragged Sir Percival in that direction hoping that the others were still present.
As we rounded the curve an ornate doorway appeared and I hastened towards it. I heard no voices and looked in. Empty. The chandeliers were lit and I saw to each side of the large room were portraits, with a thrill of fear I recognised those of the red lady and the officer. They were members of the Russian royal family? The enormity of what I’d discovered filled me up, preventing me from drawing breath - later today the ship was due to visit Her Majesty, with no doubt a sightseeing trip around this airship, and especially a visit to the Caspian Star.
It must be stopped at all costs!
I was now desperate to find the Liaison and hoped he hadn’t imbibed too much of the local tea to be of use. Where would they have gone now? To the right of the door was a dead-end (although marvellously decorated). They hadn’t had time to pass us on the way back down, so they much have gone up the other set of stairs.
My heart hammering, I pulled Sir Percival after me.
“I say, isn’t–?”
He’d seen the painting of the Russian officer, he was probably a prince or something.
“Yes, but we must find the Liaison.”
“Really?”
Understandably he seemed quite taken aback at this information.
“Yes,” I forthrightly advised him.
We came to the bottom of the stairs and I looked around for anyone, be they friend or foe. It was empty.
“Her Majesty is in mortal peril,” I added.
Carefully I started up the stairs.
“But I saw no penguins?”
My mind flashed back to the murderous mechanical penguins created by Mr Tok.
“Not penguins this time. Something more… evil.”
“Gracious!”
“Indeed.”
“Hamsters?”
I needed to cease this conversation now, and impress upon him the enormity of the danger we, and Her Majesty, were in. Making sure I was on a step higher than him I grasped his lapels, pulled him into my face and hissed, “Vampires!”
His overly hairy eyebrows climbed up his forehead and he looked wonderingly at me as if determining whether I was telling a joke.
“Vam–?”
“Yes!”
“Bu–?”
“We need the Liaison to help us prevent this airship from visiting the Royal family.”
Momentarily he was silent, looking into my earnest face, weighing up my words, then glanced down at my hands grasping his lapels. I let them go and he straightened up. “Let us save Her Majesty, Miss Lovelady.”
As one we turned and headed up the stairs.
&
nbsp; For an airship of this size there seemed to be exceedingly few staff. By now I would have expected to run into several of them even if they were merely brushing dust from the (marvellous) decorations.
We gained the top of the stairs and looked round. This floor seemed to house smaller rooms, whether reception or for officer use I didn’t know. Where would the visitors have gone? Then it came to me in a flash – the bridge! The staple part of any visit, be it to ship or airship.
I’d forgotten which way we now faced, was the bridge to our left or right? I was unable to judge by looking out the windows, which gave a scary view down upon London’s rooftops, and couldn’t read the gold lettering on the doors so asked Sir Percival, “Which one says Bridge?”
He peered at the Cyrillic lettering on the doors around us and pointed to those upon the largest pair of doors. “I can’t read it either but must assume the bigger they are means the most important.”
We hastened along the corridor to the large doors and I turned the handle. They were locked. Surely they should be open so that other officers could gain access?
I looked at Sir Percival to see if he had any thoughts, but he didn’t return my glance. Instead he was looking down the corridor.
The other doors were opening and members of staff were exiting and heading towards us. Desperately I kicked the Bridge door but it didn’t budge. How were we to get to the Liaison, or failing that, prevent the airship from meeting Queen Victoria by ourselves?
I suddenly realised I didn’t know the Liaison’s name so it was with some shame that I yelled “Liaison! Sir Percival needs you!”
I looked around to see if the familiar hippo-like face would appear from any doorway. No.
Seeking a way out I began to head back towards the stairs, but came to a stop when I saw heads of other crewmembers coming up it.
I tried again, “Liaison!”
Escape for myself and Sir Percival was now my first thought. But where? The only exit available to us were the windows. But we were so high!
Would it be better to plunge to our deaths or be captured? Or would they just kill us anyway?
I swung my umbrella at the closest window and the glass cracked. With increased frenzy I smashed at it again. The crack widened.
Beside me Sir Percival raised his foot and kicked out at the side of it, causing the whole window to swing away from the airship letting in a blast of swirling cold air.
“Liaison!” I cried hoping he’d appear and we wouldn’t have to climb onto the outside of the airship.
Still no sign of him.
Fear gripped me as I used my umbrella to push the window the rest of the way out hoping it wouldn’t land on anyone. Desperately trying to ignore the ground so far below and the cold wind trying to suck me out into empty air I held onto one side of the window with my left hand and looked upwards for something to grab onto. Some sort of guttering was above the window, but too far for me to reach.
“Out, miss Lovelady!” Sir Percival, said pushing me sideways out of the window.
Still holding the edge of the window I shrieked in fear and surprise and swung outwards, my heart hammering. Frantically I reached with my umbrella to the guttering above me, luckily the handle caught the lip of the guttering and held otherwise I’d be falling to my death.
The cold wind felt like it was playing with me - plucking at my dress and trying to blow me off the airship and into its deadly embrace.
Bone-numbing fright filled me as I hung suspended between the window with my left hand and my umbrella with my right. I held the umbrella in a death grip, feeling the metal ribs brand themselves into my hand.
How could he have done such a thing! If I weren’t in fear of my life I’d be screaming my heart out at him!
Then I suddenly felt arms clamping themselves around my waist preventing me from drawing breath and forcing me to release the window’s edge and use both hands on the umbrella! I felt Sir Percival’s weight dragging me down to plunge into the yawning chasm below! Cold air swirled around my ankles and up under my dress where it had no business being. What was he doing now?
“Get off me!” I cried out.
“I can’t!”
For some reason he was wriggling about and I felt my suddenly sweaty hands begin to slide down the umbrella.
“Stop doing that!” I yelled in fright.
“I’m trying to save our lives!”
“We’ll fall to our deaths!”
“We need to get away from the window!”
Just then I felt the guttering seem to give way and screamed in fright. I closed my eyes not wanting to see the ground quickly come up towards me, but I still felt Sir Percival’s body press my body against the side of the airship. What had just happened?
I squinted through my eyes. The guttering was still above us but, turning my head slightly, I saw we weren’t right next to the window. We’d slid slightly more around the curve of the airship. That’s what he was doing – getting us away from the window! But what were we going to do now?
The strain in my arms told me how close we were to falling to our deaths. Even if the crew couldn’t get to us there was no way I’d be able to hold on until we got closer to Buckingham Palace and hopefully decreased in height enough to jump off.
I looked up again praying my umbrella would hold, and saw that the slope of the airship lessened above the guttering. Up was the only way to go. “Climb up me, Sir Percival!” I cried down to the man squeezing my waist.
He needed no further urging as one hand reached up to grip my right shoulder. I fought the urge to cry out as his full weight hung from my shoulder when he released his left arm from my waist. I imagined the umbrella being squeezed to the diameter of a shoelace by my bloodless grip upon it.
One hand released my right shoulder and I felt the umbrella being moved as he grasped it. Then the blessed relief as his weight was no longer on me, but his body still pushed me against the side of the airship as he climbed higher. Looking up I followed his progress hoping he’d remember to help me up as well.
I saw movement from out of the corner of my eye and turned to see a crewman leaning out and looking down at the ground. With but a slight turn of his head he’d see me. I held my breath as much as I could but it must have been my blue dress being blown about by the cold wind that made him look my way and cry out in surprise.
He quickly disappeared back round the side of the airship into the window. Before I knew it he was back out again and trying to aim a gun at my swinging body. I screamed in fright and suddenly felt a hand grip my left forearm lifting me upwards. Quickly, releasing my right hand from the umbrella, I reached upwards and grasped the first thing it came into contact with which, in this case, was Sir Percival. Never has one person so quickly climbed up another.
The gun fired and I felt the bullet narrowly miss my scandalously uncovered ankles.
Still managing to keep hold of my umbrella I climbed over Sir Percival and spied some metal rails further over, luckily the slope towards them was less severe. I swung my umbrella out and snagged the rail closest to me with the handle, then scrambled over to it as fast as possible.
While I held onto the rail for dear life Sir Percival again used me as an ad hoc climbing aid. When he was able to firmly grip the rail with his right hand I climbed over the railing and into safety, with Sir Percival joining me momentarily later.
We were between the balloons and the gondola sections of the airship. The rails surrounded a recessed rectangular area, in the middle of which was a round metal hatch flat against the floor with a wheel in the middle. The four corners contained winches with rope wound around them, which were the ones the crewmen used to rappel down. That felt like a lifetime ago but was probably less than an hour or so. Metal ladders with safety cages around them led up to the balloons from the front and rear of the area. Thick metal cables helped attach the gondola to the balloons.
Above us the airship was kept afloat by three huge, grey canvas-covered sausage-sha
ped balloons with, between them, two large metal-walled containers. A metal framework held everything together. From the plumes of smoke streaming behind us I guessed the containers housed the steam engines. In contrast to other airships I’d seen the Czar Nicholas didn’t have its engines attached to the gondola section hanging below the balloons, instead they were in among the balloons providing power for the several large propellers.
One of the ladders had a thick metal tube running alongside it. I assumed this housed the control system from the bridge to the engines as higher up it split in two with each part entering a metal container.
Initially the design seemed flawed – wouldn’t it make more sense for the engines and propellers to be attached to the gondola section? But then you had to bear in mind the idea of luxury - there would be less annoying vibration from the engines; no dirty, dusty coal would need to be stored on the gondola; and the smoke from the engines would be further away and likely not trouble the royal family. And, of course, they had more than enough money to build it, install an electric lighting system, and decorate it with gold and precious gems. The Czar Nicholas was a blatant show of power.
We sat in the recessed area looking at each other breathing heavily, quite astonished we were still alive.
The central metal hatch before us was the only way I was contemplating going back down, but it also meant capture, which was not an option. We also had to prevent anyone coming up after us. At this moment in time the Liaison was on his own.
I saw the hatch’s central wheel start to turn and desperately looked around for something to prevent it from opening. My umbrella, although doing sterling service so far, wouldn’t do the job, and I couldn’t see Sir Percival holding it shut for any length of time. Length? That was it! I got up and rushed to the winch closest to me and pulled the free end of the rope. Hurrying back to the hatch I tied it around the spokes of the wheel and then went back to the winch. Quickly I turned the winch’s handle, tightening the rope and, with a burst of joy, saw it prevent the wheel from being turned.