Up, Back, and Away

by K. Velk

  “But I slept in his room!” Miles objected. “He slept on this couch thing in there so I could have the bed.”

  “Well, Roger’s the real thing, a true gentleman, like Lady Fisher’s a natural born lady.”

  “God, what a country,” Miles shook his head. “We don’t have anything like all this society rank stuff in the States.”

  “You know, I suppose that’s a good thing,” Ada said doubtfully, “but you make me nervous talkin’ like that. I don’t really half believe you, about this time travel business, but if it is true, and the world you come from is a foreign place to me, I’ll be lost.”

  “You won’t be lost,” he said, doing his best to sound reassuring. “I think you’re like Professor Davies – an American born outside of America. I think you’ll feel like you’re coming home. I will do whatever I can to help you. I know my parents will too.”

  “Tell me more about where you’re from, Miles,” Ada said gazing out the window of their compartment. They had been talking about the differences between her time and his for hours, and making plans for the cover story they would share upon arrival. Miles had explained to her about the trust fund. Ada had phoned Miss Everett from Carlisle House and had gently declined the headmistress’s offer to return to St. Hilds. Ada asked her to hold onto the money. She said wanted it kept safe in England in case she ever wanted to return.

  “I’m just too tired to worry about this anymore,” she said, resting her head against the lightly jolting window. “If the music is as good as what I heard last night, it’s worth taking this mad leap. I’ve got nothing to hold me here in any case. Maybe the American future is where I belong. Oh, I can’t believe I just said that.”

  “You’re going to love it,” he said. “Trust me.”

  “I do trust you. God help me, I do.”

  Again, Miles’ first stop after arriving in Tipton was Morris’s cycle shop. The purchase of the tandem had apparently also included a hefty supply of the shopkeeper’s good will. Morris agreed readily to give Miles, Ada, and the Sunbeam a ride back to the Peppermores’ so that Miles could say goodbye in person. As they loaded the Sunbeam in the back of the truck, Miles asked for an update on the gift of the tandem bicycle to Tom.

  “He didn’t want to take it,” Morris laughed. “He almost made me bring it back, but his little girls wouldn’t hear of it. One of ‘em says, ‘but Dad, on a bike like this you can take Susannah Peppermore out riding.’ The poor man turned red and muttered something about how it was too much – and on like that, but before I left he was riding those girls up and down the road.”

  “Have you seen him out with Susannah by any chance?” Miles asked.

  “Not yet, but it’s only been a few days. He’s probably got to get his courage up.”

  Susannah and Mrs. Peppermore came out on the front step of the cottage to greet the little group, much as they had on that first day. Molly welcomed Miles and Ada with complete and overwhelming enthusiasm. Miles fully intended to get a dog when he got home. He was determined. He wasn’t going to take “no” for an answer. He ran his hands over Molly’s smooth skull and soft ears while she bayed up at him with unabashed joy. He was going to miss her too.

  It had been tempting to skip this final meeting. Miles dreaded displays of emotion, most especially from himself. But some inner voice told him he would regret not saying goodbye if he had the chance. “Regret is the poison of life, Miles!” Professor Davies was always saying that, and now Miles thought he understood what he meant. The Peppermores had saved his life and they had been his friends. He had to say goodbye in person. Besides, he wanted one last look around, to seal the place and the people in his memory, which would be the only place they would live for him from now on.

  The smile faded from Mrs. Peppermore’s face when she saw the spreading bruise on Miles’ cheek. “What’s happened now, lad?” she said with more disapproval than pity.

  “I tripped on the sidewalk, er, ‘pavement’ in London,” he responded, gingerly touching the scrape. He wasn’t about to get into the whole story.

  She tsked tsked over him. “Boys your age are often clumsy. You must learn to look where you’re going, Miles, or your poor brains will be scrambled before you’re twenty.”

  He introduced Ada and she was warmly received. Mrs. Peppermore did not approve of either young person’s decision to leave “good, steady posts” at Quarter Sessions for some madcap adventure. “But I suppose if there’s a time to take a risk in life it’s when you’re young,” she said after one last attempt to dissuade them.

  “We’ve only just stopped for a minute Mrs. Peppemore,” Miles said in response to the tea that was being pressed upon them. “Morris has got to get back to his shop and we need to get right back to the train station. The boat leaves from Liverpool tomorrow morning.”

  Mrs. Peppermore’s brow furrowed. “And who is it that will be accompanying you young people on this trip?”

  Miles had anticipated the question. “Oh, we’re meeting one of the teachers from Ada’s old school in Liverpool, that’s one reason we must be off so quick.”

  “Yes. Mrs. Fotheringham,” Ada’s skill as a white liar was impressive. “She’s a lovely person, if a bit strict.” Mrs. Peppermore’s smile returned.

  “I must say that’s a load off my mind, Miles.” She dabbed her eyes. “My, but it’s right hard seeing you go off.”

  “I am sorry to go, too.” Miles said, just keeping on top of the lump in his throat. “I brought a little something for Susannah, to remember me by, I guess.” He laid the portable typewriter that he had procured at Harrods on the table, along with a sheaf of paper, some replacement ribbons, and a little book called Learning to Typewrite at Home: The Modern Method. He opened the case. Mrs Peppermore gasped.

  Susannah ran her hands over the keys. “Oh Miles, you shouldn’t have!” Her sightless eyes overflowed and Miles fought to keep his dry.

  “I have come into some money, like I told you,” he managed in a hoarse whisper. “This wasn’t so expensive.” The typewriter had set him back just over eleven pounds. He calculated that, price adjusted, this was just about the cost of a decent laptop in 2012. “If you want to thank me, just learn to use it and write, write, write!” he said. “I’m going to be looking for your books in the future.”

  Mrs. Peppermore caught him up in her big arms. “What a blessing you have been to us Miles, and how we will miss you! You will write to us, won’t you?”

  “I will, if I can, but if you don’t hear from me it’s only because I am a bad correspondent. Don’t worry about me, and believe me when I tell you I won’t ever forget you.”

  As he closed the typewriter case he managed with a sleight of hand that rather pleased him to drop the last of his pound notes, eight of them altogether, on top of the keys. Mrs. Peppermore picked up the typing book and began chattering about the glories of the machine and how she could help Susannah, who had such clever fingers anyway, and so forth. Miles was looking for a break in her speech to say he must be going when a tap on the cottage door interrupted her.

  “It’s like we’re havin’ a party and someone forgot to tell me…” Mrs. Peppermore pulled the door open to reveal Mrs. Grimwald with the Fisher’s new Rolls Royce idling at the gate behind her. Brown, the chauffeur, was at the wheel.

  “Well, Mrs. Grimwald!” Mrs. Peppermore exclaimed, instinctively straightening her apron. “You could knock me over with a feather. Come in. Come in, please.”

  Mrs. Grimwald was, as ever, perfectly poised, but while her clothes and hair were the same, the change in her overall demeanor was immediately apparent. She seemed, there was no other word for it, relaxed.

  “I can’t stay, thank you, Mrs. Peppermore. I’m pleased to see that Miles managed to retrieve you from London, Ada, That will be a relief to everyone at Quarter Sessions.” She took in the Harrods traveling clothes. “You are looking very smart.”

  The astonished Ada curtsied, despite herself. “Thank you Mrs. Grimwald.”
Miles felt a stab of guilt about having told Ada “the secret.” He hadn’t expected to see Mrs. Grimwald again, or he would have kept his mouth shut. Ada, however, notwithstanding her history of combat with Grimmy, had taken no pleasure in the sad story. She and Miles were thus the only ones in the little crowd who had a way to account for the housekeeper’s transformation. The other onlookers could only gape and wonder what had brought about such a dramatic change.

  “Might I have a word with you outside, Miles? Mrs. Grimwald asked. It was a real question, not a command.

  “They were just leaving Mrs. Grimwald,” Mrs. Peppermore said. “They’ve a ship to catch in Liverpool in the morning. Are you sure you’ll not stop in with my daughter and me for a bit of tea? You should see the lovely typewriter that Miles has brought for Susannah.”

  “I’d be delighted Mrs. Peppermore, but some other time, perhaps? I must be off as well, if you would all just excuse us?”

  Miles and Mrs. Grimwald stepped out into the garden and around to the side of the house, where Hamlet the pig was rooting through the remains of the Peppermores’ lunch. Miles scratched the pig between his ears.

  “How’d you know that I was here? We only got off the train about half an hour ago.”

  “I asked Mr. Hastings at the station to telephone me as soon as you arrived. I was quite sure, you see, that you would return, and that you wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye to the Peppermores. I wanted to give you this.” She handed him a thick envelope. It was labeled simply, ‘Morgan.’

  “I’ve written a letter, some explanation…” she said. “I hope that, if you can, you will give it to him. There are a few pictures, too. He might want to know about me, my parents, about what happened.”

  Miles tucked the letter into the haversack. “Of course I will.”

  She looked at him with shining eyes. “I am more glad than I can say that you were sent on this journey, and that Providence made such a journey possible.”

  Before Miles could respond, she closed her arms around him and squeezed with startling strength. Looking over her shoulder, Miles saw Brown’s mouth fall open. His pipe dropped, he yelped and made a wild swipe at his lap. Miles loosened himself from the clench.

  “I am glad too. You won’t say anything, though, will you? About me? Who I am and where I am from? I mean, you won’t ever say anything – to anybody?”

  She shook her head. “No, of course not. Who’d believe it anyway? I’d be sent to Bedlam for a story like that.”

  “Promise me one more thing?” He added.

  “Yes?”

  “Lay off Eubank.”

  “Long since done,” she laughed.

  “And do you think you could ask Brown to drop Ada and me near the Quarter Sessions woods? I was going to ask Morris to take us back into town, but this would be easier…”

  “Certainly.”

  Morris was released back to his shop. There were more clenches and wet cheeks and shouted goodbyes, and then it was off for what Miles hoped would be his final trip in the England of 1928.

  70. Back on the Bike

  Mr. Brown was not pleased with Miles’ proposal to put the Royal Sunbeam in the back seat of the Rolls.

  “The bike is clean and dry and I’ll be sure that it doesn’t touch the upholstery,” Miles promised. There was a space big enough for a picnic between the front and back seats.

  “It’s all right, Mr. Brown,” Mrs. Grimwald said. “If there is any damage I will take responsibility. I feel quite certain that Lady Fisher would want us to assist Miles and Ada.” Brown almost dropped his pipe again. The authority was familiar, but such a deployment of it was novel. The big black bicycle was wheeled aboard.

  “Actually, Mr. Brown, there’s a spot in the Quarter Sessions woods that I wanted to show Ada before we left,” Miles said. “Do you know the famous old oak trees? Could you drop us where that cart track comes out of the woods, by the Clark Farm?”

  “You mean them old oaks as people talk such mumbo jumbo about?”

  “Those are the ones – actually, there’s only one left. Professor Lightfoot told me all these great stories about them. I promised Ada I’d show her before we left.”

  “Haven’t you a train to catch?”

  “Oh, yes but that’s not for a couple of hours. We’ll get back to the station in plenty of time.”

  “I did want to see that tree,” Ada added.

  Brown eyed her suspiciously in the rear-view mirror. What he knew or had heard about Ada did not include “nature lover.”

  “Certainly,” Mrs. Grimwald added. “That’s an excellent idea. Perhaps I’ll walk with you. I missed Professor Lightfoot’s expedition. Maybe you can fill me in a bit, Miles. In fact, Mr. Brown, I will walk back to Quarter Sessions myself.”

  Brown smelled a rat, but it wasn’t his business to ferret it out. He pulled over by the cart path and his passengers and the bicycle were trundled out. “Am I to wait here for the young people, Mrs. Grimwald?”

  “No. No. I don’t think so. Lady Fisher may want you, and it will be a pleasant enough walk for them back to the station, won’t it?”

  “But it’s four miles at least!” Brown exclaimed.

  “Not a bit of a problem,” said Ada. “We’ve been cooped up in a train half the day already. Our baggage is at the station and we can ride double on Miles’ bike if we’ve any need to hurry.”

  Brown shook his head but asked no more questions. They watched the Rolls disappear around the next bend in the road and then the three of them turned and faced one another. No one seemed to know what to do or say. At last, Ada touched Miles’ arm.

  “I guess we’d better go, if we’re goin’.”

  “Right,” he answered, drawing in a deep breath and steadying himself by running again through his checklist: the Stone, the handlebar bag, the iPod, the remainder of Professor Davies’ golden inheritance, the key to the trust padlock – it hung now around Ada’s neck – the copy of Shakespeare’s Comedies, Maryanne Davies’ letter to Morgan and now, Mrs. Grimwald’s letter to her son as well. All were present and accounted for. That was it. It was time to go.

  “I’ll walk with you as far as you think I should,” said Mrs. Grimwald tentatively. “I’m not sure that I, or anyone, should witness whatever it is that is going to happen. Goodness, I never felt sympathy for Moses before but, that Burning Bush must’ve taken a deal of courage.” She laughed nervously.

  They stood for another moment, as though they were each afraid to make the first move, when they heard the car coming back around the curve.

  “Wait,” Miles commanded. He didn’t want Brown looking for them in the woods. As the car came into view, however, they saw that it wasn’t the Rolls. It was a different big car and it was upon them quickly. It slowed as it approached as though the occupants might be asking directions. The rear window came down and revealed the grinning face of Jonathan Diamond.

  “Well, Ada, isn’t this positively providential?” He exclaimed. “I thought you and your boyfriend would make your way back to Tipton, but I didn’t expect I would be lucky enough to meet you along the road!”

  Miles froze. Should they run? He calculated that he could not outrun Diamond while pushing the bike and carrying the haversack and Ada was not exactly built for speed.

  “What do you want?” Miles asked, trying to sound tough and failing.

  “My property,” Diamond replied, stone-faced.

  “What is your business here, Sir?” Mrs. Grimwald demanded.

  “And who might you be, Madam?”

  “I am Mrs. Grimwald. Housekeeper at Quarter Sessions and the superior of these two young people as it happens.”

  “Well, then I am sure you’ll appreciate my position. I’m afraid Ada ran off from my employment without settling up, as it were. We had a contract, you see.”

  The driver’s window was now lowered to reveal the lantern jaw and iron-colored teeth of the Giant. There was a dark bruise in the center of his big chin.

  �
��Legged it, didn’t they?” he said.

  Mrs. Grimwald gave Diamond a look that might singe his eyebrows. “Ada is now in the employ of Sir James and Lady Fisher of Quarter Sessions,” she said slowly. “And under their protection, I might add. The Fishers are, however, reasonable people and I am sure that if you will apply to them they will determine what, if any, claim you may have. I can direct you.” She turned to Miles and Ada. “Why don’t you continue to the house as we planned? I will see you there.”

  Miles didn’t wait to be told twice. He stepped off giving the paralyzed Ada a stiff tug on the arm. “Right. Let’s go Ada. See you Mrs. Grimwald.” Mrs. Grimwald winked and Miles and Ada moved off at a fast walk into the woods.

  “Here now!” Came the angry voice of Jon Diamond behind them. “Not so fast.” Miles turned to see Mrs. Grimwald leaning against his car door, with a nonchalance that was not very convincing.”

  “Run!” Miles breathed into Ada’s ear.

  Miles heard a car door open and close behind them.

  “Faster!”

  “Stop you little blighters! Not this time you don’t!” The Giant roared.

  Though running proved as awkward as Miles had feared, he and Ada quickly reached the turn off the cart track, where the woods thickened and the route to the oaks vanished in the bracken. The September vegetation was still green and thick and it provided a bit of cover. He saw the razor line on the floor of the woods that cut between the living oak and its shorn twin. He heard the Giant crash through some bushes to their right, meaning he had missed the turning.

  “Get on!” Miles said in hoarse whisper.

  “I don’t know how to ride a bicycle!” Ada said, even as she hopped onto the saddle.

  “Well thanks for letting me know! More great timing! Just sit still then and hold onto me!” Miles jumped in front of her, stood on the pedals, and pulled on the handlebars. The bike wobbled under the load but he managed to hold it upright and keep it moving forward. The remains of the Oak Gate appeared through the brush. There was just a very slight downhill slope here and he was able to pick up a bit of speed. Ada was leaning this way and that, trying to see around him. “Hold still!” he yelled. The rocks that littered the forest floor started to pulse with the same white light he had noticed in the banded stone back on Ashburton Mountain.