Time Travel Adventures of the 1800 Club, Book 14 Read online

“Then,” she said as she plopped down on it, “we shall have to improvise. Do you agree?”

  “Indeed I do, indeed I do!”

  There was giggling from beneath the bearskin rug that night and they both got homesick for New York.

  One evening Bill sat alone in a teashop near the docks. There was a light snowfall and the window fogged over. He wiped a circle in the foggy glass and saw the tall masts of at least ten sailing ships and two single stacked passenger liners. He was on his third cup of tea and he kept looking out the window for his love. He looked at his pocket watch and snapped it closed for the fifth time. Where the heck is she? He shook his head and went on, She was supposed to have been here thirty-minutes ago. He took a sip of his cold tea. I’ll be in good hands, she said. Scotland Yard has a full squad of men ready to jump in if I need them. Without realizing it he sighed and thought, Boy it would be fun to see Matt, John and Rocky again and to play with Samson. He felt lonely and tried to shake it off. What’s your problem, Bill? You’re back in a time you always wished you could live in and have a beautiful woman who wants to marry you. You have plenty of money, great health and yet you moan. What’s the problem? He took another sip of tea. I know your problem: nothing to do! You’re bored! You miss the missions and being needed. Well right now you are like any other man of 1887, no more or less. He finished his drink and stood as he added to his thoughts, Billy, you need to get back to New York, sit in Paddy Diamonds and have a steak dinner, “Right after Christmas,” he said as he put the change down on the counter and left the shop.

  Looking for a shadow to stand in Bill realized that most of the shadows were constantly moving as the wind made the oil lamps sway back and forth. The docks were going to be the last to have modern gaslights that would not move in the wind, he thought as he stepped into one of the few stationary shadows. He hoped to see Shirley appear out of the snowy night. I made a promise that I would not interfere with her work at the Yard but that doesn’t mean that I stop worrying about her.

  There was a soft shuffling sound and he turned to see what appeared to be a man with his hat pulled down and his collar turned up come into the light of one of the few oil lamps that was stationary. The man stepped into a shadow and when he got back into the sliver of light that came from the tea shop he was hatless and he was a she whose long hair draped over her shoulders and framed her smiling face.

  “Sorry about the delay,” she said as they hugged. “Tea here or home?”

  “I believe that they are about to charge me rent here.”

  “Oh Bill, I told you that you need not come down here. It was a tidy operation and as promised the Yard stepped in when needed.”

  He winced, “So they were needed?”

  “Just at the end of the operation. Doctor Watson is doing the paperwork. Now, let’s go home.”

  Later that night she said as Bill rubbed her swollen ankle, “It truly is nothing, Bill. I tripped as he came at me and it gave me the chance to pull out my dagger.”

  “Your dagger?” He glanced at the empty scabbard on her table, “Where is it?”

  “Ahh, I do believe that Doctor Watson will be bringing it to me in a day or two.”

  “Why does the doctor have it?”

  “It was sort of stuck in the other fellow.”

  “Stuck in the other fellow? Y-You mean you stabbed him?”

  “Well, yes. But only in self defense.” She shifted her leg and cupped his face, “As we are on this topic love, I have something to tell you.”

  Bill sat back and rolled his shoulders, “And that is what?”

  “Scotland Yard has been doing an investigation on a small group of criminals and feel it might be time to move in on them. The problem is that the location is in the Orkney Islands. They are located off the tip of Scotland and I will be living in a small fishing village on one of the islands. I will be posing as a chemist or as they call them in America, a pharmacist.”

  “For how long?”

  She shrugged her shoulders and answered, “Not sure, but at least two weeks and they still don’t know the exact date. Just that it will happen after the holidays.”

  Now it was his turn to shrug his shoulders as he said, “Well I did know what I was getting into so although I’ll be lonely I have to accept it. However, please carry a pistol.”

  They hugged again.

  Christmas Eve, 1887

  “Do not come in until I call you,” Shirley said as she opened her apartment door an inch.

  “Much longer? It’s been an entire week.”

  “Another thirty minutes.”

  Bill was not allowed in Shirley’s flat for a week as she cleaned up and decorated for the holiday. The odor of roast goose filled his nostrils and made him salivate. He went back up the stairs and looked at his two-foot tall Christmas tree on the table. It was decorated with strings of popcorn, red, yellow and blue bows and six glass-ball ornaments. On top was a star made out of thick yellow paper.

  Through the thin window pane he heard laughing and looked out the window to see a the snow was now two inches deep on Baker Street and although it was dark, children played in the circles of lights given off by the street gas lamps. They tossed snowballs at each other and any sleigh that happened by. It seemed to Bill that their main target was the common tall hat that every man in London wore. A tall Bobby turned the corner and the snowballs stopped flying until he passed. As they began their tossing again a group of ten carolers turned the corner and stopped beneath a corner gaslight and began singing carols. The children stopped and watched as their beautiful voices drifted down the long street. Bill smiled as he thought of watching his friend Patty Gelardi as he sung with his group so many years from now.

  There was a tap on his door and he opened it to see Shirley standing there with a smile. She wore a simple red linen dress that was edged with yellow along the cuffs and bottom of the dress. Around her waist was a wide yellow silk sash tied into a large bow and her slippers were warm yellow as well. Her long brown hair was down and flowed over her shoulders and she had a small twig of garland in her hair.

  “Please come down to my flat, Bill.”

  He followed her down and she opened the door and stepped in. When he followed she turned and said, “Merry Christmas.”

  The flat was decorated beautifully with garland hanging from the woodwork that surrounded the room.

  Bill was ashamed of the size of his tree as hers stood close to eight feet tall. It was decorated with white cutout hearts, bells, reindeer and birds. A long string of popcorn was carefully threaded in and out of the green tree’s boughs from top to bottom. There were candy canes and other candy that was still in its silver and blue wrappings. On the very top was a glass star that reflected the light of the long stem candles placed around the room. Bill knew that, thanks to Prince Albert, putting up a tree and decorating it was just 46 years old and it looked as though the English embraced it thoroughly as was proven by Shirley’s tree.

  Round traditional wreaths hung on the walls and were decorated with silver and gold candy wrappers that also reflected the candlelight. The now uncluttered table was covered with a white linen tablecloth that was decorated with raised needlework snowflakes and bells. The two settings were Johnson Brothers china with Christmas decorations and Wallace Baroque silver flatware. Also at both settings were cut glass wine glasses by Denton Brothers. In the table’s center was a silver platter that held a small roasted goose surrounded by baked potatoes and garnished with parsley and sliced baby onions and carrots.

  Shirley stood watching his reaction with her hands clasped and asked nervously as he looked around the transformed room, “Do you like it?”

  “So this is what you’ve been doing for more than a week. Do I like it? I love it! Everything looks fantastic!”

  He spotted the mistletoe hanging from the ceiling and guided her beneath it. They kissed and she reached up and removed one of the white berries leaving nine of them attached to the green stem.

 
“Why did you take a berry off?”

  “Oh, that’s the rule, silly. After a kiss one berry must be removed until it’s bare of the fruit.”

  “Lets take another one off.”

  They kissed again.

  “Time to eat,” she insisted as she turned to the table. She poured two glasses of wine and they sat to eat their Christmas dinner.

  Two hours later as Bill helped her do the clean up there was a knock at the door. Shirley removed her apron and answered it. It was Doctor John Watson. Bill watched as the doctor kissed her hand in a gentlemen way.

  “John, welcome home! How was your trip? You must tell me all about it but first,” she said as he took off his gray overcoat, “please come meet my friend from America, Bill Scott.”

  “Ah, Mister Scott. I’ve heard so very much about you.”

  They shook hands as Bill said, “And I you, doctor. Happy holidays.”

  “To you too, sir.”

  “Shirley will you place this under your tree?” he passed her a small, wrapped object, which she placed under the tree. Another knock at the door and Mrs. Hudson came in.

  “Merry Christmas everyone. As usual, even though I live right downstairs I’m the last person here.”

  Bill watched as the doctor and landlady shook hands and thought, I have to remember that although I met the good doctor before, that was a few years from now and so to him this is our first meeting. He mentally shook his head, Boy, time travel demands a great memory.

  Soon the four had a glass of wine and Shirley proposed a toast. “To good friends and a great future for all.”

  They opened their presents and then sat eating small pieces of Applesauce cake, cranberry muffins and sipping wine. The small party ended at 11:30 and Mrs. Hudson was the last to leave. “Shall I take a lamp up the stairs with you Mister Scott? It is on the dark side and I wouldn’t want you to trip.”

  “Oh that would be so kind of you, Mrs. Hudson, but I must decline as I’ve volunteered to help Shirley clean up and we may be up all night.”

  With a forced smile she said, “I find that at times it is easier to clean up in the morning.”

  Shirley grinned as Bill said in a determined voice, “What? And invite bugs to live on Baker Street with us? Never!” He shook his head, “No, better we take care of that tonight.”

  Losing again the nosey landlady said, “Then I bid you both a good evening.” She left the flat and could be heard mumbling to herself as she descended the stairs.

  “I say we remove another berry Mister Scott. Do you agree?”

  The sprig was all that was left by the morning.

  New Years Eve, 1887

  Bill and Shirley sipped tea in a teashop on Oxford Street. They enjoyed sitting in front of the wide glass window and watch the people walk by. She squeezed his hand, “I’m so happy. This what it’s going to be like, isn’t it?”

  “You mean after we get . . . “

  “Yes,” she finished for him, “when we are married.”

  He smiled, “I’m happy too, so yes.” He took a sip. “Hon, are you sure that you don’t want to go out this evening?”

  “Yes. We only have a few more days together and I want you all to myself and not in a crowd of shouting people.”

  “I’m fine with that.”

  The clock struck twelve midnight and the couple was wrapped in the bearskin rug on the floor in front of the fireplace in Shirley’s flat. Because of the lack of space between the foot of the bed and the fireplace they lay sideways to the fireplace that illuminated and warmed the room.

  “I miss Samson,” she said out of nowhere. “The way he always tried to sleep between us was almost Victorian.”

  They laughed together as Bill added, “I miss the pup too.”

  “Perhaps we can purchase another beagle and name him Samson?”

  Bill rested on one elbow with his hand holding his head off the floor as he looked down. Shirley’s hair was spread out flat on the pillow and her eyes gleamed as the light of the fire danced in them. “I’m going to miss you most of all Miss Holmes.”

  “Won’t you stay a bit longer?”

  He shook his head, “I can’t. When Watson told you that the date you had to be on the Orkney Island to help the Yard is in a few days, I knew I couldn’t be here without following you.”

  “But, it’s probably not going to be more than a few weeks.”

  He shook his head, “I’ll blow your cover.”

  She wrinkled her nose and asked, “Blow my cover? What does that mean, love?”

  “What I mean is I’ll probably do something stupid and the police will see that you are a woman.”

  “When will you return?”

  “Why not join me in New York?”

  She perked up and smiled as she squeezed his hand, “There’s an idea! Let me check my calendar.”

  Bill reached under the bed and placed a small white berry on her forehead. She picked it up and when she saw what it was, laughed and said, “You saved a berry from my mistletoe!”

  They embraced and the room went quiet.

  One hour later the clock struck midnight and Bill reached under the bed once again and placed a small black box in her hand. She opened it quickly and with a stifled cry hugged him. “Oh my, I love it, Bill. I love it so much!” It seemed to her as though the entire room was illuminated by the reflection of the fire in the diamond.

  “Does it fit? Try it on.”

  She had to wipe tears from her eyes and sat up quickly only to lie back down just as fast as the rug had slipped down. Finally using her upper arms to hold up the bearskin she placed the ring on her finger. It fit.

  Two days later the blast of the steamship’s whistle told Shirley that the ship was about to leave for America and she and the other visitors had to go ashore.

  Twelve days later the same ship docked at the Fourteenth Street Dock in New York City and an exuberant Bill Scott walked happily down the gangway. He waved over a cab and his head was on a swivel as he tried to see everything at once as the cab carried him through the streets of his city. Wow, I can’t believe how happy I am to be back home. It’s because I’m in a familiar setting. Tonight I’m going to enjoy a steak dinner at Paddy Diamonds.

  As instructed the cab driver stopped at the rear of the building and Bill paid and tipped him. Good to be home, he thought as he took out the key he wore around his neck. He opened the garden gate and saw that the grass was long and flat as was the dead plants and other shrubs that needed to be cut back before a freeze. Wow! I have to get a gardener to take care of the garden. Bill opened the security door and went up the stone steps to his landing on the third floor, opened that door and entered his den. It was cold so after dropping his valise he went down to the basement and before he knew it he was back upstairs as it dawned on him, Hey! You lit the fire, fed it coal, opened the water and filled the system and now you are back in your den and you did all of this without even blinking! Bill Scott, you are officially a 19th Century man. Now to go out and do a food shop.

  Bill refilled his icebox. Need to catch the iceman tomorrow, he thought as he took a hot shower. He put on a suit that he didn’t bring to England and it was a little tight. I really need to join a gym soon. It was all of that rich English food, he thought. He took a deep breath as he dressed and soon stood in front of his long mirror.

  The suit was a dark blue double breasted over a soft collar white shirt with a dark blue floppy bowtie. He easily slipped into his black shoes and put a black fedora with a dark blue sweatband. Finally he put on a long overcoat with a cape that ended at his waist.

  He went out the main entrance of the building and for no particular reason checked the floor in the vestibule where mail would collect after being slipped through the brass mail slot. There was no mail there. I guess the advertising agencies haven't invented the annoying mail advertisements yet.

  Thirty minutes later he entered Paddy Diamond’s Bar & Grill, took his seat at the end of the bar and was rewarded w
ith a tall mug of cold beer.

  “Bill, how the heck are ya, lad?” asked the big Irishman as he wiped down the clean bar.

  “Excellent! How are you, Paddy?”

  “Just great. Are ya eating tonight?”

  “I am. I’d love a rare steak, potatoes and whatever greens you have.”

  “Peas tonight.”

  “Then peas it is.”

  The big man walked down the bar and Bill got nostalgic as he looked around. How many times have I sipped a drink with Matt or John Brand and Rocky Perna in here? And watched as the open door created a breeze that made the Moose chin hairs dance. He took a sip and thought on as he gazed out the two large glass windows at the people walking by, I wonder if I’ll ever meet Paddy’s son or grandson? I knew them both well thanks to traveling through time but now that’s gone and here I am living life like an ordinary guy of 1888. Weird.

  A horse drawn trolley glided by. It was full and many passengers stood holding on to the rail that lined the steps in the rear. A man with a long pole walked by only to stop at the foot of a street light. Using the pole he opened one of the four flat plate glass windows, put the pole up to the spigot inside and ignited the escaping gas. He closed the window and walked away leaving a circle of warm yellow light on the ground. Bill smiled as the flame danced rather than act like a candlelight.

  He ate his dinner with a second beer and ended the meal with a cigar and coffee. Bill grinned as he thought, Well smoking in a bar or inside any place for the matter is allowed for the next bunch of years and as there’s no problem getting Cuban cigars I should be able to enjoy them for as long as I wish . . . or my doctors tells me to stop. And hey, Bill, that’s another thing: You need to get a doctor! Add that to your list. The door behind him opened which created a draft that made the Moose’s chin cobwebs sway in the breeze and an ex-time traveler smile.

  “Hello, partner!”

  Bill turned to see Mark Twain taking off his floppy hat and dropping a small suitcase on the floor near the bar. “This seat taken?”

  “Mark, how the heck are you?” They shook hands.