‘Can’t we just contact home and get them to bring us back now?’ Liz Stride asked, her eyes shifting from woman to woman.
‘It’s a good idea,’ Mary replied. ‘But unfortunately, we instructed the team to desert the castle when we left. They were instructed to check on us every three months. Our headquarters were not exactly a secret, and the EA would undoubtedly begin their investigations there. The next contact we have with them will be November thirtieth. Until then, we’re on our own. I’ll see if it’s viable for us to go back on that date, or as near to it as possible. It’s becoming dangerous for us to stay here, but it’ll mean the terraforming project won’t be complete on our return. We’re hoping that the EA don’t know what our end-game is, so, at least our threat will still be valid.’
Everyone in the room agreed that the bringing forward of their mission was the best, and safest, course of action.
‘Can I please reiterate to everyone,’ Carrie said, looking more composed. ‘We need to be extra vigilant for ourselves and each other. Any suspicious circumstances, and I mean anything, get the hell out of there. We only need to stay alive until the thirtieth of November. It’s a little over a month and a half.’
‘I think we should adopt a buddy system,’ Mary continued. ‘If anyone has any long walks, or lonely routes, then they do not do it alone. Has everybody got that?’
Everyone agreed, and the meeting was adjourned.
~~~~
A deep shiver ran through Liz as the gruff voice shouted to her from the counter. She placed the washing bucket on the floor and turned towards the main eatery. To Liz’s delight, the gentleman was still there, sitting at the same table. She tried not to look at him for too long as she didn’t want to alarm him, but her gaze kept flitting between him, and the rough looking man at the counter. Does this count as a suspicious circumstance? she thought.
She entered the room, ignoring the newcomer, and made her way over to the gentleman at the table. ‘What can I get you, sir?’
The man looked at her. His eyes are beautiful, she thought, and felt the burn of a blush returning over her whole face.
‘Just a warm bowl of soup if there’s enough left, please.’ His voice was so gentle that Liz was confused as to what to do.
Fixing her hair back behind her ear, she struggled to meet his eyes. ‘Yes, sir, I think there’s enough left for another bowl, or maybe even two.’
As she turned to fetch the order, the rough man grabbed her by the arm, squeezing tightly. ‘Aren’t you going to serve me?’
She looked up at him, he was also sporting a heavy moustache underneath a large nose and dark, foreign eyes. ‘Y- yes, sir. Of course, I was. Let me see to this gentleman first, then I’ll see to you.’ She shrugged off the grip and disappeared into the back.
As she ladled the last of the soup into a clean bowl, she looked at the small clock on the wall and sighed. It was nearly eleven-thirty. Catherine wouldn’t be meeting her until after one-thirty, when her shift in the bakery ended. Normally she wouldn’t have minded waiting around for an hour or so, either inside or outside the shop, for Catherine to meet her, but tonight was different. These men were unnerving her, both for different reasons.
She was rooting in the drawer for a clean spoon when she felt the uneasy presence of somebody standing behind her. In a slight panic, she turned around to face whoever it was.
Thankfully, it was the gentleman and not the rough looking foreigner. ‘I’m sorry to scare you, miss, but I was wondering if I could have a cob of bread to go with my soup. I’m really rather hungry tonight.’
Liz’s heart was racing now. She was more than a little uncomfortable in the man’s presence; there was something… she didn’t know what it was about him, he was just distracting. She was attracted to him, that was for sure, and that in itself was unnerving, but there was something else too.
‘Erm, you aren’t supposed to be around here, sir. If you make your way back to the main room, I’ll be happy to bring it out to you.’
The man smiled; it was almost a sweet smile.
What the Hell is happening here? I don’t even like men, but this one is pressing all my buttons, she thought, blushing again.
‘It’ll be ha’pence more on your bill, though,’ she gushed.
The man winked at her and went back to his table.
She spied at him through the door as he walked back into the room. There was just something about him that she couldn’t put her finger on, something… delicious. Shaking her head at her silliness, she grabbed two small cobs of bread and hurried through into the main eating room. As she hurried, she bumped into the other moustachioed stranger—this one she didn’t care for in the least.
‘Watch yourself, young lady,’ he chastised her patronisingly. ‘You never know who you’re going to bump into. The next one could be Death himself.’
Liz shivered at the words. Was that a threat? she thought, feeling the rise of panic in her chest. ‘I’m sorry, sir. I’ll look where I’m going next time, for sure.’
He grabbed her again and looked deep into her eyes. She watched as his dark pupils expanded. Recognition dawned on his face. ‘You’re one of them, aren’t you?’ he whispered. ‘One of the witches! Oh, you’ll get yours, young lady, you’ll get yours, and soon. Mark my words!’
He pushed passed her and made his way towards the back room leading to the yard, where most of the customers went to relieve themselves.
Liz couldn’t move. All the colour drained from her face and her bladder was in danger of overflowing. The gentleman had been watching this encounter, and he came over to her. He held her in both of his arms, stopping her from falling over.
‘I saw all that. Did that man threaten you, miss?’
‘Well, erm, no. Not exactly. But after all those murders recently, I just got a little scared. That’s all.’
‘Do you want me to wait here for you after you finish? I can walk you home, make sure you get there all right?’
Liz smiled, then shook her head. Yes please, she thought. ‘There’s really no need, sir. I’ll be waiting round for my friend who works next door. We walk together since all this murder malarkey began. Don’t want to be a victim of old Leather Apron, do I? Safety in numbers, don’t you know.’
‘That’s very wise, very wise indeed. Am I right in thinking that the bakery doesn’t close the doors for its staff until at least one-thirty? This eatery closes at, what? Twelve-thirty? What do you do until then miss?’
Liz shrugged, and pushed the imaginary lock of hair behind her ear again. ‘Usually I stay around the back, out of sight. Keeping warm and enjoying the smell of the bread.’
The man smiled. ‘Well, if you’re quite sure you don’t need my assistance.’
Liz stared into his eyes. Then she slowly, and reluctantly, shook her head.
He released his gentle hold on her and walked back to his table. He left money on the side and made his way towards the door. As he was just about to leave, the rough man reappeared from the back room, still buttoning his fly. He stopped and watched the gentleman walk out of the door.
‘Who was he?’ he barked at Liz. She ignored him as she watched the door close.
The rough man grabbed her by the wrists and turned her towards him. ‘I asked you a question!’
‘No one! I’ve never seen him before,’ she whimpered. In the embrace of the gentleman, she had almost forgotten what this one had whispered to her before he left.
‘Did he talk to you?’ he barked again.
‘He beckoned good night as he left,’ she lied.
He let her go before storming off in the direction of the door, not bothering to continue ordering his meal.
As it slammed behind him, Liz was relieved when Israel Schwartz, the owner of the eatery, turned up from wherever he’d been.
He looked around, taking in the empty room. ‘Stride…’ he shouted, a little drunkenly. ‘Where’ve all the customers gone? And, more importantly, where’s the payment for the
meals?’
Liz gave him a look that was filled with contempt, then walked off into the back room, leaving him scratching his head and looking around.
~~~~
Kosminski raced outside into the cool night. He was ready to confront the gentleman who had just left the eatery. There were a few people hanging around outside the bakery next door, either relieving themselves in the street, or lighting up fags, but his mark was not one of them. There was nowhere to hide within one hundred yards of either side of the building. ‘Into thin air,’ he mumbled to himself as he scanned the street.
He lifted his wrist to his face and pressed a button on the device he was wearing. A small, tinny, voice issued from it. ‘This is Abberline, report!’
‘I’ve seen him. He was in Schwartz’s eatery on Commercial Road, the one next to the bakery. Long Liz works there.’
‘Long Liz?’ asked the disembodied voice.
He shook his head. ‘That’s not her real name, I gave them nicknames. Long Liz because I have heard people call her Liz and she’s tall for a woman.’
‘That would be Stride. I’ve got her on my map in the location you’ve given me. Thank you, Mr Kosminski. Do you have any other business?’
‘Yes, the man I told you about was in there, Jack the Ripper. I’m sure he was talking to her, but I never got the gist of what they were saying.’
‘Is he still there now?’ Abberline’s voice sounded interested in the conversation now.
‘No, he left. I tried to follow, but he disappeared into thin air. Can you people do that? Disappear as if you were never there?’
‘No, sir, we can’t. I need you to find this man. I’ve a feeling he was there for a reason.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Kosminski replied, gripping the handle of the razorblade he kept concealed in his pocket.
‘Oh, and, Kosminski, you are, by no means, to apprehend this man, for reasons that you will not understand. You wouldn’t be able to defend yourself against him if he had cause to attack you.’
‘Understood. I’ll try to find him again.’ He felt more than a little silly talking to his wrist, and even sillier that his wrist was talking back to him. Not entirely sure if he was living in a delusional state, or if this was now his new norm, he took solace in the solidity of his blade as he turned into the dark London night to continue his mission.
~~~~
Liz left the eatery at just after twelve thirty. She was glad she had decided to put on her thick cloth coat and wrap up, as a chill had crept into the evening. As she exited the employee’s door at the back of the shop onto Dutfield’s Yard, it was pitch black. There were no streetlamps in the yard, and the ones in the street didn’t have the power to extend over the large brick walls.
She was nervous tonight, more than was usual for her. Normally this area never bothered her, as it was warm and dry. The yard was in use both day and night, but tonight it seemed like the loneliest, darkest, most hostile place she had ever been in her life.
Every movement of the wind was the large man with the thick moustache, every noise from the opposite corner of the yard was a rapist ready to pounce on her and have his wicked way. Every shadow was Leather Apron come to rip her to pieces as had happened to her friends. Madness lurked in every darkened window, and there was murder behind her eyelids every time she blinked.
A shuffle snapped her out of her waking nightmare. It came from her left, by the main gate into the yard. Her heart began to beat double time in her chest as she made out the silhouette of a man advancing towards her in the darkness. She could see that he was wearing a hat and a cape. He was walking with pace and determination in her direction. The gloom of the yard only gave her an outline of him, but she could see that whoever it was had a large build. She ruled out the mystery man from earlier, who she’d had a stupid giggling schoolgirl crush on. The only person it could be was the ruffian from the eatery.
She turned so she could watch him advance but made it so that it looked like she was stood with someone else, in a passionate embrace.
She giggled as the silhouette drew nearer. ‘Oh, you cheeky thing!’ she exclaimed. ‘I will, but not tonight. Some other night maybe,’ then she giggled again.
The man continued past her heading towards the Fairclough Street entrance. He gave Liz a cursory glance as he passed by, then strode off into the dark of the night. She noticed a smell as he passed, like he’d been inside the eatery and gotten something to take home with him. He must be one of Schwarz’s friends, she thought, a little relieved.
Exhaling a deep sigh and rubbing her eyes with her cold hands, she estimated that about ten minutes had passed since she had left work. I still have ages to wait before Catherine gets out, she thought with an exasperated breath.
That was when she heard another man walking through the yard. He sounded slower, more purposeful than the last. He was coming from the same direction and she thought about employing the same trick again. This time, however, something about the way he was walking told her the same trick wouldn’t work.
The dark shadow came into view. Her eyes had gotten used to the darkness of the yard by now, and what she could see made him look sinister in his cape and hat.
‘Long Liz,’ the man whispered. ‘Long Liz, I know what you are. I have a little friend who has some long-awaited business with you…’
Who is Long Liz? she thought. She decided that she didn’t really want to know and made a move, darting from the shadows, heading towards the middle of the yard. She just had time to see the man following her.
‘Elizabeth! Elizabeth, over here.’
Surprised to hear her name being called from the darkness, she looked up. The gentleman from the eatery was standing in the gateway that led onto Fairclough Street. He was silhouetted against the night, but she could make out his slight frame. His cape was lined with red silk. He held out a hand towards her, and she accepted.
He pulled her into the relative safety of the gateway and put his hand over her mouth to stop her from making any noise. From their hiding place, they watched as the larger man passed by, searching this way and that as he made his way across to the other end of the yard, heading towards Commercial Road. He lifted his hand to his face and looked like he was talking into his wrist.
Oh shit, it is him, she thought. He’s talking into a communicator, he’s not on his own. How many of them are there?
She turned towards her saviour to thank him for the rescue.
He shushed her. ‘Don’t mention it. I’d have done the same for anyone,’ he replied.
‘If there’s anything I can do to thank you, just ask and you shall receive,’ she whispered, there was more than a touch of flirtation in her voice. What am I doing? she asked herself.
‘Well, there’s one thing you can do for me,’ he replied in an equally flirty voice.
She cocked her head and looked at him. ‘Oh yes, and what might that be?’ she thought about adding ‘kind sir’ on the end of the question, but decided that it sounded like something out of a cheap romance novel. Oh my God, I could lose my straight virginity right here in a gloomy, dirty yard, in the eighteen hundreds! The thought made her giggle again.
‘You could give me the transponder codes for all the women who’ve come back to this time.’
Elizabeth’s blood froze, and she lost all feeling in her legs. They buckled as her head began to swim.
~~~~
The man struggled to stop her from falling and clattering into the gate. It would have made a noise, maybe loud enough to attract the attentions of another man who was now crossing the yard.
The newcomer looked over into the shadows to see a man holding a woman. A flash of recognition passed over his face, ‘Liz?’ he asked, ‘Liz, it’s Israel, are you OK?’
He began to make his way to where the couple were struggling. As he got closer, he noticed that the woman was looking a little dazed and confused.
‘Come on, darling,’ the man scolded. ‘Is it not enough that you’re my wife
, that I have to carry you home almost every night? You’re a no-good drunkard.’
Israel Schwartz stopped and watched as the man in the shadows helped the woman to her feet. That can’t be Liz, he thought, she hasn’t been drinking, and she’s not married. He shook his head and smiled as he continued his way out of the yard.
~~~~
As Liz came to her senses, she found herself in the yard gateway with her assailant pressed up tight against her. A leather clad hand was over her mouth. She was trying to scream, but the hand was easily muffling it. A driving fist into her stomach pushed all the air out of her, taking the scream with it. Her eyes were filling with tears, obscuring her view of her assailant’s face. ‘You want what?’ she asked breathlessly, feigning innocence.
‘Don’t act innocent with me, Stride. I know it was you who perfected the method of handling the Higgs Storm, which ultimately led to the mass destruction of nearly half of Earth.’
‘What do you want?’ she asked again, this time it was in resignation.
‘I want your transponder codes. Yours and those of the rest of your friends. If you give them to me now, I’ll take the rest of you home to stand trial. If you don’t, you’ll die, right here, right now. I’ll tell you from experience, it won’t be the nicest of deaths.’
‘You bastard,’ she spat. ‘You killed my friends.’
‘Not quite,’ the stranger replied. ‘Callaghan is still alive. I’ve been trying to persuade her to give up the codes, but she won’t. Believe me, I don’t want to kill you, all I want is to stop what you have planned for Earth when you get back.’
‘What we did was necessary,’ she hissed, resigned now to her fate. ‘There needs to be a new start. Commercialism and personal greed have gone too far. Society is broken and we intend to fix it. Yes, there’ll be devastation, but it’s a requirement if we want to build a new Eden.’ In the dark of the courtyard, she smiled, even managing to laugh a little. ‘You can’t make an omelette without breaking some eggs.’ She had not intended to talk so much, but she was so passionate, and proud, regarding The Event that her mouth ran away with her.
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