Lay Down Your Hand

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by Cherie Mitchell


  “It’s me.”

  “I’ve been meaning to call you. What have you been doing with yourself?”

  “Playing solitaire.”

  She giggled and the sound warmed his heart. “Literally?”

  “And figuratively. When can I see you?”

  “Are you free for lunch? We can meet at our burger restaurant.”

  Our burger restaurant. He was suddenly desperate to see her. “I’ll be there.”

  She was waiting for him at the same table by the window. She raised her hand in a cheerful wave when he walked in and he couldn’t keep the smile from his face. He had to stop himself from running across the black and white expanse of heavy-duty floor tiles to join her. Instead, he walked with studied nonchalance across to the table.

  “I’ve ordered enough for both us. Sit down while we wait for our number to be called.”

  “Waiting for our number to be called sounds faintly ominous, especially after my meeting with the Knave.”

  She fixed those solemn blue eyes on him. “You managed to talk to him?”

  “A few nights ago. I’ve been trying to reach you to tell you about it.”

  She shifted her gaze and looked down, making small circles on the table with her finger. Her hair hid her eyes and he could no longer guess what she might be thinking. “I was unavailable. The corporation decided to remove me from the case for my own safety and I had several days of debriefing to sit through.”

  “I’m sorry. I know how important the project is to you.”

  “Mmmm.” She looked up as a number flashed up on the screen above the counter. “That’s our order ready now.”

  “I’ll go.” He went up to collect the tray of burgers, fries, and drinks before hurrying back, eager to continue their conversation.

  “So what did you think of the Knave? As a person, I mean. I’m not talking about his actions or intent right now. In some ways I envy you for speaking to him.”

  “He’s very smart but easily irritated. I can’t hold my hand to my heart and say that either one of us came away the winner from the conversation. As much as it pains me to say it, I think that in many ways we’re an equal match. I hadn’t expected that.” He pointed at one of the lidded coffee cups on the tray. “Which is mine?”

  “I ordered you a cappuccino with a sprinkle of cinnamon.”

  “Cinnamon. My favourite spice.”

  “It is? Don’t tell me they had cappuccinos with cinnamon back in the 1800s.” Her eyes held a bewitching tease that caused a strange fluttering in his chest.

  “No, but they do have a deliciously stodgy cinnamon and ginger pudding with currants. My grandmother would bake it on special occasions, provided we had the ingredients or we were able to find them. My landlady sometimes makes it too.”

  “You’re speaking in the present tense. You’re talking about that time as if it is still current and real for you. Is that how you feel?”

  “Sometimes. Sometimes I feel as if I have one foot back there and one foot here.” Time is but a whisper in a world gone mad. An echo of the Knave’s voice taunted and mocked him.

  “I can understand that.” Ramona unwrapped her burger, carefully folding back the paper and smoothing it down, preparing herself for a feast. “Did the Knave say anything that you’d consider useful for this project or was he too busy throwing out diversions?”

  He remembered Amy’s odd comment about red herrings. What was it she’d said? Something obscure about fish with no teeth? “I’m really not sure. He spoke in riddles most of the time. He knew who I was though, and I had the distinct impression that he knows a certain amount about time machines.”

  “Mmmm.”

  “I’m going to take that as a yes.”

  “Take it however you like but I’m not telling you anything more.” She grinned cheekily and his idiotic heart swooped and dived in response. He told himself it was obviously glad to be in the presence of a friend, nothing more and nothing less.

  “You said something the other day when we in the woods. You spoke about the time machine as if it was one of many.”

  She frowned across the table at him. “I’m sure I didn’t say that.”

  “You said Darcy is in charge of the infinity devices. You didn’t say device. I remember it clearly.”

  Her eyes skittered away from his, refusing to allow him to hold her gaze. “Amy said you had fun the other day.”

  “Yes, we went to the British Museum. It was rather confronting to see so many formerly everyday and often used items in a display case with a label stuck on the front.”

  She laughed, loud enough for the couple at the next table to turn around and look to see what they might have missed. “Did it make you feel old and vintage?”

  “Very old and vintage.” He glanced over at the counter to where another queue had formed and he suddenly stiffened. A man in dark clothing stood with his back to their table and he was twirling a silver ring around his little finger.

  Ramona twisted around in her chair to see why he was staring. “What’s the matter? What are you looking at?”

  The man took a step back to squint up at the menu board and it was now plain that he wasn’t the Knave, but instead a much younger man who looked nothing at all like him. Elliot shook his head. “Nothing. I thought I saw someone I knew.”

  “From this century?”

  “Perhaps.” He wanted to talk to her about some of the things the Knave had insinuated. “How much do we really know about the people we meet? We’re forced to base our judgements on the face that people choose to present to the world, but what if that face is merely a mask? The Knave is a prime example of this – anyone passing him on the street would have no idea that he’s a monster in the guise of a man.”

  “I don’t know if I’m in the right frame of mind to go into such a deep and meaningful philosophical discussion today.” She sighed and put down her burger. “It really threw me sideways when the corporation took me off this project. I’d put my heart and soul into it.” Her eyes held his for a long moment. “It’s hard for me to accept that everything I worked on for so long is now gone.”

  “What will you do now?” The realisation had just hit him that this would probably mean he would have less chance of seeing her. She would be busy somewhere else and he would soon be forgotten. This wasn’t what he wanted.

  “There’s another project pending.” She pulled a face, as if to say this new project didn’t excite her.

  “Do you have anything for me to do? I feel useless without any assignments to complete and to be honest, I’ve been battling boredom. I’d love to help in any way I can.” He crumpled up his burger wrapping and dropped it back onto the tray. “I miss the closeness of people. I miss the bustle. I miss feeling as if I belong to something far bigger and grander than I. This world of comfort and abundant personal space sometimes makes me lonely.”

  “The corporation is working on something for you. Trust me, you won’t be bored for long. They didn’t go to all this trouble and expense to bring you here to leave you sitting on your butt and twiddling your fingers.”

  “I’m pleased to hear it. Will I be working with you again?” He held his breath and superstitiously crossed his fingers under the table.

  “Perhaps. We’ll have to see how it pans out.” She looked out the window, over to where the river sparkled and shone in the weak sunshine. “The clouds have cleared. Do you want to take a walk when we finish here?”

  “I’d like that.” He uncrossed his fingers and sent up a silent hope for unspoken wishes coming true.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Once again, it had been days since he’d heard from Ramona. Their lunch at the burger joint had stretched into a long and companionable walk by the river and he’d said his goodbyes with the feeling that they would speak again soon. However, her phone went straight to voice mail whenever he called and he was tired of leaving messages that she never returned. He’d given himself a good talking to over it; it seemed he
was more invested in their friendship than she was and he was walking a rocky and treacherous path if he expected her to return his developing feelings. He forced himself to see their relationship from her point of view – she’d overseen his work on the project in the role of supervisor and now she’d moved on to what was quite possibly bigger and better things.

  When Amy called and asked if he wanted to meet her for a coffee, he was glad to jump at the chance for some pleasant distraction. He’d visited parts far and wide in London town on his own by now, he’d driven his car in circles, he’d watched TV shows until his mind turned as soggy as a pile of rags, and he’d paced discernible tracks in the carpet of his apartment. He longed for company and he was more than happy to spend a few hours with the delightful and straight talking Amy.

  She greeted him warmly, moving in for a quick hug that he hadn’t seen coming. He held himself stiff for several seconds as his Victorian morals shrieked in silent horror, before allowing himself to relax into the overall niceness of the embrace. Really, was there anything wrong with embracing a female friend?

  They ordered their drinks and found a table, where Elliot was anxious to turn the conversation towards the corporation and Ramona. “Have you heard from Ramona? She mentioned she was working on a new project and I had hoped that she might have some additional work for me.”

  “I heard about what happened. The whole thing has turned into a massive soup sandwich.”

  Her comment tickled him, right under the ribs where the funniest punches found a home. “You mean the Knave project?”

  “Yes.” She dramatically rolled her eyes and clicked her tongue to demonstrate her annoyance. “They have another guy trailing him but the Knave seems to have abandoned his plans for murder for now. He didn’t even turn up for his last date, leaving the young lady sitting alone and fuming until she left. She had no idea that she’d been stood up by a killer, of course.”

  Elliot wondered if his own conversation with the Knave had anything to do with the man’s apparent abandonment of his violent intentions. Would he be giving himself too much of a pat on the back if he congratulated himself for turning a monstrous man away from murder?

  Amy continued, unaware of where Elliot’s thoughts were taking him. “I don’t know what Ramona is working on now, although I have heard that it’s highly confidential. Although everything the corporation does is highly confidential so there’s no surprises there.”

  “And what about you? What are you doing now?” He wasn’t sure why he’d bothered asking. He knew she wouldn’t tell him.

  She tapped the side of her nose and winked. “Tell me no secrets and I’ll tell you no lies.”

  “Least said soonest mended.”

  “That sounds very Victorian.”

  “The phrase was quoted often by the women in my family, especially my grandmother.”

  “I wish I had the chance to travel back there,” she said wistfully. “That era has always fascinated me, which is why I dragged you off to the British Museum the other day. I’ll take you again one day. I never get bored while I’m there.”

  “You haven’t used the time machine?”

  “No way! I’m far too low down in the pecking order to get an offer like that.” She turned to watch as a toddler pitched a small tantrum in front of the glass cabinets, flailing his arms and bellowing for a gingerbread man. “Would you go back? If Annie were still alive in the times you left behind, would you return to 1889?”

  “She isn’t alive so it isn’t a choice that I have to consider making.” He felt faintly offended by the question. He would never have met Darcy and he would never have left his own era if Annie were still alive. Heck, it wasn’t as if he’d chosen to leave in the first place; his trip in the time machine wasn’t planned and Amy should know that.

  She understood immediately that she’d said the wrong thing and she grimaced a rueful apology. “I’m sorry. I should’ve thought about it before I asked a question like that. I’ve never been too good at censoring my own words, which you’ve probably noticed by now. Of course you would go back to Annie if you were able.”

  “With that being said, I’m not sure why I’m still here. I’m half expecting to hear that they’re sending me back anyway.”

  “They won’t do that. I can’t tell you anything further but…” She sucked on her lip and stared into the middle distance, searching for the right words. “Let’s just say there’s a place for you in the grand scheme of things.”

  “Meaning that I just have to sit and wait?” It was the exact opposite of what he really wanted to hear.

  “You’ll just have to sit and wait,” she agreed. She nodded across at where the small boy was now gleefully devouring his gingerbread man. “Did you enjoy treats like that when you were a child?”

  “Sometimes. My family wasn’t wealthy but we made do with what we had. It’s amazing what you can have despite a need to be frugal. Fun and games were important. Our generation enjoyed robust entertainment, clever fancies, and tacky ornaments. Jokes were made out of the simplest of things, although many of those jokes are far too coarse to repeat in the presence of a lady.” He recalled some of the ribald conversations he’d had with Robert in Chaney’s Tavern after a few tankards of beer had loosened their tongues. A sharp and unexpected pang of homesickness twisted his gut. He would like to see his friend once more, to explain to him what had happened and where he’d gone. He supposed that Robert probably thought of him as dead by now.

  “You look sad. You often look sad. What are you thinking about?”

  He looked up and was caught off guard by the deep compassion in her gaze, realising with a start that she felt sorry for him. He spoke before he’d properly considered the rude force of his words. “I don’t need your sympathy. I’m a man who is used to standing on his own two feet.”

  “Elliot, you’re in the 21st century now. Your Victorian stiff upper lip isn’t necessary. People have evolved enough to understand that both men and women have feelings.”

  He nodded and looked away, unwilling to venture into such tricky and unchartered territory.

  “Would you like to go to the movies?” she asked suddenly. “We can sit and eat popcorn and pretend that real life doesn’t exist.”

  He laughed, glad that she’d lightened the atmosphere again. “I can’t think of anything I’d like more.”

  “It might be a girly one,” she warned. “There’s one that I’ve wanted to see for ages and it finishes today.”

  “Lady’s choice.” He grinned back at her as his low mood begin to lift. “Anyway, I don’t mind watching a girly movie. I’m sure I could always do with some more education on how the feminine mind functions.”

  “Be careful what you wish for. You might get more than you bargained for.”

  “I never say no to a challenge, especially when it’s thrown down by a lovely young lady” he said gallantly. He stood up to pull out her chair, pleased to note that she was wearing a snug fitting pair of jeans today. “After you.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  When Ramona finally called, he almost didn’t answer the phone out of spite but his desire to hear her voice overrode his childishness. However, he kept his voice cool and offhand when he greeted her.

  Ramona didn’t appear to notice the chilliness in his tone. “Elliot! I have big news. Darcy is traveling in today. Do you want to come with me to the woods to meet him?”

  He immediately dropped all pretence at aloofness. “Darcy? Why is he coming? And yes, of course I want to see him!”

  “He said he’ll explain once he gets here. Meet me outside my apartment in twenty minutes.” She was gone before he opened his mouth to reply but it didn’t matter. He was already on his way to the door.

  Ramona was outside and waiting impatiently for him when he arrived at her apartment block. He was a little disappointed that she didn’t hug him as Amy had done, but he reminded himself that this was Ramona and the two women were very different. After saying hell
o, she launched straight into a tirade about how busy her week had been and that it would’ve been helpful to have received more of a warning about Darcy’s visit.

  “We’ll know soon enough.” Elliot glanced at her as they hurried across the street to the small grove of trees. She looked wonderful, fiery and hyped-up, with her eyes flashing and her jaw set determinedly. Her hair was worn loose today, flying around her shoulders in a silken wave as she jumped over the kerb and pushed her way past the straggly tree trunks. “Don’t go too far in,” she warned, throwing her arm across him to prevent him walking any further. “Darcy isn’t the best driver and he sometimes misses the mark.”

  She’d scarcely finished speaking when Elliot heard the sound, a deep rushing, rumbling sound that made his hair stand on end and the blood turn sluggish in his veins. The sound engulfed him, pulling the cells and molecules in his body in all directions at once, and then just as suddenly it stopped. He rubbed at his eyes, briefly disorientated and giddy, as Ramona hurried across to the familiar-looking gold box lying in the grass just a short distance away. He trotted over to join her, coughing to clear his airways of the perfumed stench of the fuel.

  “The door is jammed again,” Ramona muttered as she hauled on the handle. “Oh! Got it.” She quickly stepped back as the door swung open and Darcy tumbled out to sprawl prone amongst the weeds.

  “Darcy. Good to see you, old chap.” Elliot held out his hand and hauled the older man to his feet, feeling as if he’d just received a message from home.

  Darcy grinned at him. “Elliot. You’re looking well.”

  Ramona fussed with the door behind them, grumbling that it wouldn’t close, and Darcy turned to help her. Elliot pushed his hands into his coat pockets and waited, thrilled to see his wily friend in the flesh again. He looked exactly as he had when he’d last saw him, with his whiskers framing his round face, the crown of his hat crumpled on his head, and his woollen trousers held up by a pair of striped braces. He looked like a fine slice of 1889. Elliot quickly shut down an unwanted burst of homesickness, irritated that it still had the ability to catch him unawares.

 

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