The Space Between Time (The Time Travel Diaries of James Urquhart and Elizabeth Bicester Book 4)

by Bruce Macfarlane

  Jill and I looked at each other.

  “Families, eh, Jim. You can’t compete with them. I presume you’re not abandoning the love of your life. Even though she’s more worried about her dad than you.”

  She looked at my face and then took pity on me and held my hand.

  “Come on. Let’s go and rescue the damsel in distress.”

  “Thank you. I owe you one. Just one thing though. There’s another reason for not going back to Chichester.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Look at what you’re wearing.”

  She looked down and realised with horror she was still in one of Elizabeth’s nightdresses. It was one of those white winter ones normally associated with the inmates of a sanatorium, designed to keep a girl warm and not to emphasise the form of her body.

  “Great! I’ve excelled myself, haven’t I? Even by my standards. Gone out partying, got blotto and next morning found wandering home in someone else’s nightgown. Whole new standard for the walk of shame.”

  She saw my hand going to my pocket.

  “If I see you get your phone out for a photo, or ever even mentioning this to Sean, you’re dead.”

  I slowly raised both my hands to show they were empty.

  She said, “Yeah, I believe you. Just one thing though.”

  “What’s that? You want to see Ponsonby again?”

  “No! Have you got any aspirin?”

  -------------------

  Chapter Eighteen

  E.

  I went through the wall into a garden of hollyhocks and fuchsias which rose around me higher than a house. Between them, long tendrils of petunias, supported magically by nothing but themselves waved in the soft breeze. As I stood there in wonder an almost overpowering fragrance of wallflowers wafted over me. I was enchanted. My eyes closed in reverie. I wanted James to live here with me for ever.

  And then I remembered! James!

  What had I done! I had abandoned him to save my father!

  My Victorian morals enveloped me. What would he say? Would he think my father came before him? I felt the panic of the dilemma rising and took a step back which to my surprise caused me to float into a dense clump of petunias. I tried disentangling myself from them but I became more entwined. Eventually though brute force I broke their strands and freed myself. However, when I rose to walk again I almost cartwheeled. What magic was this that had released me from my earthly bounds? Then as I slowly straightened myself and smoothed my skirts, removing petunia flowers from my belt and shoes, I saw a gravel path between a row of fuchsia. With some caution, I moved towards it, one slow step at a time. Yet even with control I found myself gliding and slipping. At one point, feeling myself falling, I grabbed a hollyhock but it snapped and came down with me and in the process released two peacock butterflies which alighted on my hair!

  By now I was nearly beside myself. Nevertheless I resolved to persevere and follow the path the best I could for I could see no other escape.

  Step by step I went forward through this enchanted garden expecting at any moment a phantasmagorical creature to poke its head through the hollyhocks. But try as I might I could not control my gait and danced as if I was a fairy flitting from flower to flower.

  After fifty yards or so, I could not measure it, I came out of the foliage on to a green lawn bound on three sides by a hundred-foot-high yew hedge above which two moons hung in the orange sky. I then knew where I was, though how, I could not reason. In the far boundary of the lawn, I espied an arch. I walked or should I say I bounded over to it but unfortunately, half way across the lawn I caught my foot in a croquet hoop and found myself bowling over and over until I landed sprawled against the yew hedge. When I rose, and gathered my wits and skirts I noticed a frog regarding me not three feet away. I still do not know why a vision of James dressed as one came to me at that moment. But it helped to quench my fears a little. I carefully looked through the arch and saw a rose covered veranda beside a house overlooking a lush deep green canyon which stretched to the horizon. Within the veranda, sitting in wicker chairs taking afternoon tea, were my father and Mr and Mrs Wells!

  I literally danced uncontrollably towards them. When I arrested my flight by grabbing and half swinging around a pillar of the veranda, my father, without the slightest concern for my welfare said, “Oh. Hello Lizzy. I thought you had left for home. Would you like some tea? I can get Lilly to make a fresh pot.”

  “I did not return for tea, Father!” I said, with some anger rising. “I returned to see if you were safe!”

  He then noticed my expression and replied as one does to a child. “Oh, we are perfectly safe here, Lizzy. Why don’t you join us and watch the Martian sunset?”

  “Forgive me, but for some reason which now escapes me, on impulse I abandoned my husband to look for you.”

  “Oh, I don’t think you have. I’m sure he will be here in a minute or two. Provided he takes the right path.”

  Before I could reply, I heard in the distance a strange scream. I turned in the direction of the sound and saw to my horror a white phantom rise above the hollyhocks. It then slowly turned and fell back down again. My blood ran cold.

  ------------------------------------

  J.

  We found ourselves in some strange garden with flowers and plants stretching almost up to the sky. Elizabeth had vanished.

  Jill said, “Where the hell are we now? And what are those two moons doing up there?”

  I looked up. “It’s Mars.”

  “We’re on Mars! Just like that? No jumping about like a gibbering gibbon on realising we’ve just gone through a wall and ended up a million miles away on a planet where we can miraculously breathe the air?”

  “The Martians are rehabilitating their planet.”

  “Oh, that’s alright then. Pardon me for questioning what I’m seeing and breathing.”

  I cast my eyes around trying to guess where Elizabeth had gone.

  “Any idea which way she went?”

  “Who? No. For some reason, I totally forgot about your wife for a moment. And why are these hollyhocks a hundred feet tall?”

  “It’s the gravity. Try jumping.”

  “Have you lost your marbles again, Jim? I’m going back.”

  And before I could stop her, she attempted to run back to the wall and flew through the air and straight through it.

  After about a minute she materialised back through the wall.

  “Ok, Ok. I’ve got it now.” she said, straightening Elizabeth’s now rather muddied and torn nightdress. “Just another normal day flitting about in time and space with you idiots. What do we do now?”

  “Get out of this vegetation.”

  After about ten minutes of stumbling about, we eventually and surprisingly found the beginning of the path we had just created through the hollyhocks.

  “I thought you were the boy scout who never gets lost. Do you have a Plan B?” she said.

  “Jump as high as you can.”

  “What? Oh, I see! Give me a lift.”

  It’s not often you get to throw your fully-grown sister in the air. But after three attempts aided by the weak gravity she eventually saw the edge.”

  ‘Wow! That was fun, especially the somersault. Oh! Oh!...” her face changed colour, “Wait a minute I don’t feel well. God, I’m going to be sick!”

  When she recovered, she said “I don’t think Elizabeth’s going to want her nightie back. Ugh! Never let me drink absinthe again.”

  “Are you OK, sis?”

  “Yeah. Nothing that a day in bed wouldn’t cure. It’s this way. Follow me.”

  The path was only a few yards away and we followed it across a field and through a gap in a hedge. Jill was first to go through. The scream I heard from the other side of the hedge was quite loud. When I entered, Jill was knelt on the ground cradling Elizabeth.

  I rushed over. A mistake, for I sailed past them, without a hello or goodbye, and landed on a veranda where to my surpri
se the Wells and Mr Bicester were sitting. Oh, and also what looked like what might have been a few seconds before I arrived, a well laid out table for afternoon tea.

  I was just in the process of getting up to make introductions and apologies when someone or something slammed into me, bowled me over again and smothered me in kisses and nearly crushed me to death in the process.

  “Oh, James! Will you ever forgive me?”

  “If you’re going to do that every time you leave me, you can run off whenever you like. What happened to you?”

  “She thought I was a ghost,” said Jill.

  “Why?” I said, “Oh yes, I see. You do look like......”

  “Shall we leave it there, Jim?”

  It was then that I noticed Mr Bicester and the Wells staring at us. I’ve found the best tactic in this situation is to pretend nothing has happened. Thankfully, Elizabeth’s father, was of a similar mind and even more thankfully, Mrs Wells was lost for words.

  When we had rearranged the table and chairs and Lilly had come out and replaced the china, he said, “Now you three, please sit down. Take some tea and enjoy the sunset, for it will not last much longer.”

  We did as we were told, for it was, as I regarded the landscape before me, the most perfect thing to do.

  As the small orange sun approached the horizon, clouds of vapour, their tops orange in the sunlight began to form in the valley. I felt my mind relax for the first time in days and I sank deeper into the chair. I noticed Wells and Mr Bicester continued to sip their tea as if this scene was the most natural thing in the world and it occurred to me that this may not have been their first time here. I said. “Do you come here often, Mr Bicester?”

  He preferred that to Squire Bicester.

  “Yes,” he said, without batting an eyelid, “Since the anomaly, the garden does seem to flit about. Mr Wells and I have tried to calculate the frequency of occurrence but it seems to be random. Though I must say it is often at sunset.”

  “And then what happens?” Trying to keep up the pretence that this was a normal conversation.

  “Oh. After about an hour or so, there is a slight shimmer and we return home.”

  “Is that all? And the house?”

  “It seems quite happy with it. Though we have lost the conservatory I’m afraid.”

  I didn’t really care. I sat back and returned to watching the sunset. Jill had fallen asleep in her chair, still in the remains of Elizabeth’s nightdress. Isabel had her usual expression of one whose society had collapsed around her and it was all my fault. Wells was trying to fold a paper napkin into some form of aeroplane or perhaps another time machine for all I knew.

  The colours of the foliage in the valley were fading fast in the spreading twilight. Elizabeth moved her chair closer to me and gentle entwined her fingers in mine. Her father noticed and gave me a smile which I returned then he rang a small bell on the table. Lilly appeared and he asked, “Could you bring a couple of lamps? I think everyone is staying out here for a while.”

  She returned shortly with two and hung them on the trellis. Then as the sun sunk below the horizon a soft warm breeze blew a fragrance of honeysuckle and roses over us and suddenly the sky was full of stars.

  I languidly reached over to the table and took another cake and as I shared it with Elizabeth a silvery light cast our shadows upon the lawn. We both looked up and saw our own Moon rising above the trees.

  We were nearly home.

  Then just as I was drifting off I felt a hand gently touch me on the shoulder and turning, thinking it was Elizabeth, saw Lilly out of the corner of my eye. She seemed a little pensive.

  “Excuse me, Mr Urquhart.”

  I said, “Yes, Lilly?” expecting either the offer of more cake or the news that there was none left.

  “I did not want to disturb you, Mr Urquhart, after your day but there is a Mr Tesla at the door who is most insistent on seeing you. He seems a little agitated.”

  --------------------

  Part III

  A Ship in the Night

  Chapter Nineteen

  E.

  It is still difficult to describe the pandemonium that ensued on the announcement of Mr Tesla’s presence; for the last and only time we had met him we had destroyed his electrical apparatus and in the process whisked ourselves away into I don’t know when or where without a goodbye or adieu. I could only presume he would be rather annoyed and would be demanding some recompense. James was of a similar opinion and suggested, following Tacitus’ dictum that we run for his carriage. I must admit I found favour with this and was about to accompany him when without any introduction, Mr Tesla appeared at the kitchen door. He was dressed in a dark grey coat unbuttoned and still wearing his bowler indoors! Then without a nod of introduction he glanced at us and on espying James exclaimed, “Mr Urquhart! I must have words with you.”

  Everybody was now standing including Jill who on being awoken from her sleep and I imagined still nursing a sore head reciprocated his lack of manners by demanding to know why he had disturbed a peaceful and tranquil sunset. Her presence and her words put Mr Tesla on the back foot not least because she introduced herself in the tattered remains of my white night dress which in the moonlight betrayed more of her form then would normally be expected of a lady receiving guests.

  This, however, fortunately allowed James to recover.

  “Mr. Tesla! I’m so glad to see you. Please sit down and have a cup of tea.”

  Managing to take his eyes off James’ sister on whose body I felt he had gazed a little too long he turned to James. “What? Oh! Yes! No! I have come to discuss….”

  “Just sit down, Mr Tesla.” said James, pulling over a threadbare wicker chair from the edge of the veranda. “Then we can talk about this in a civilised manner. There are ladies present.”

  Mr Tesla did not move.

  “Ladies!” said James turning to us, “Please sit down otherwise he won’t.”

  Jill and I looked at each other, then at the remains of our clothing and eventually deciding we were to be passed off as ladies took our seats. Though what Mrs Wells thought of us masquerading as such I do not know.

  Mr Tesla hesitated for only a moment and then, thankfully remembering his manners, sat down, removed his bowler and placed it on his lap. He was immediately offered and accepted, after a brief hesitation, a cup of tea from Lilly who once again demonstrated her ability to control small children and adults who acted like them and also managed to relieve him of his hat.

  She then offered him cake which he also accepted. There then followed an uncomfortable silence while he ate or should I say, devoured it, while we regarded each other.

  My father was the first to speak.

  “Mr Tesla, I presume that is who you are for you have not introduced yourself, let me present ourselves.”

  He then took a few moments introducing each of us with a brief resumé while Mr Tesla with an occasional nod of acknowledgement continued to scoff his tea and cake. Receiving no reply my father continued as though this conversation was the most natural thing in the world.

  “I have heard from James the great things you have done for this world and your work on the advancement of communication.”

  He had carefully chosen his moment while Mr Tesla’s mouth was still full. A trick I recognised from childhood when he wished to gain an advantage over Flory and I during a squabble. On hearing this compliment, I could see Mr Tesla was having difficulty in not immediately responding.

  My father took his advantage and continued. “I also understand that you have tried to communicate with Mars. Did you have success?”

  Mr Tesla could resist no more and spluttered, “You know of these things? Is it true I will become famous and beat Edison?”

  I could see Father looked perplexed at this name and he turned to James in the hope of help. “I am sorry, James. But I realise I have walked into a mire of my own making and I must ask you for assistance.”

  James luckily took his
cue.

  “Do you mean the war between alternating and direct current Mr Tesla?”

  “That is exactly what I mean.” said Mr Tesla, gratified that someone had understanding of his meaning, “I am convinced that the generation and transport of electrical current can be made only more efficient with alternating rather than direct current.”

  “Well, the good news is you’re right. My whole world is based on alternating currents.”

  “What world is this?”

  “The future.”

  “You ARE from the future?”

  “I am. The others around you are roughly from this time.”

  “Then how are you here?”

  “That’s a long story. But it started with eddies of space-time appearing. One of which I walked into and found myself in the nineteenth century.”

  “Then time travel is possible!”

  “It is. And often too much of it,” I said, turning to Elizabeth who nodded in agreement.

  “But getting back to your alternating currents and Edison, the bad news is that you’re going to need some help to sell your idea.”

  “But I am preparing patents and forming a company! I will show the world my theory is better than Edison’s.”

  I had heard of this Mr Edison before. James told me that the man had once electrocuted an elephant to demonstrate the power of electricity! I had subsequently ‘looked up’ this crime on one of his communication devices and was horrified to find an elephant called Topsy was killed in such a manner! However, I was much relieved to find that Mr Edison had nothing to do with it.

  James said to him, “I don’t want to influence you but you might want to talk to a chap called Westinghouse who I think will be very receptive to your theories and have the money to get it going.”

  “I will make my own decisions. But to return to why I am here.”

  “Yes, how did you get here? I thought you were in New York.” said James, cleverly twisting the topic of conversation away from his question.