Hide in Time (35 page)

“ “Foxhills” will
require a full complement of household staff. Johnson, Mrs Lamb,
Millicent and the daily women from the village have given sterling,
loyal service. Under normal circumstances, I might arrange to speak
to you one by one. Expediency seems preferable. The quicker
arrangements are made, the better it will be for us all.”

Alexandra stole a glance at the
mystified faces of the assembled staff; to her delight, expectancy
was replacing anxiety.

“Johnson, I appoint you as
Butler. Your first task will be to unlock the drawing room.”
Adam took a key from his pocket and presented it to him. “Your
second will be to return Miss Mulberry’s diamonds.”
Alexandra’s eyes lit up; it was as Catherine had said, he’d
stored them safely. Then she caught sight of Johnson’s
expression; it was one she would never forget. Pride was there, but
something much more: gratitude? Alexandra settled on gratitude,
gratitude for the trust Adam was placing in him. Then his eyes shone
too and his very demeanour showed he was up to the job before him.

Adam, having paused, continued, “Billy,
you have been invaluable and I applaud your loyalty to Miss Mulberry.
Long may you watch over her – when I am not here.”
Everyone smiled; everyone knew he knew. "You are to train as my
valet but initially retaining some of your responsibilities in the
stables – William will require a great deal of assistance in
making room for the phaeton and a splendid barouche we’ll order
from William Bligh in Canterbury.” Father Fox puffed out his
chest at hearing the name 'William Bligh' and began nodding. Adam
allowed time for the hum of excitement to settle.

“A housekeeper will be appointed
in consultation with Johnson and Mrs Lamb, whom I should like to
remain as our cook.” Mrs Lamb wrung her hands on her skirt,
apparently forgetting she’d removed her apron, and nodded
enthusiastically.

“Millie, you have admirably
combined your duties of ladies’ maid and parlour maid. I should
like you to continue as lady’s maid to Miss Leigh-Fox. Your
first duty is to make an appointment for the seamstress to visit."
He glanced at Catherine and winked.

“Miss Mulberry will require a new
lady’s maid.” He turned to look at Alexandra. His eyes!
That highwayman’s look! Alexandra heard little of what he said
for some time after that, just something about the housekeeper
appointing a full complement of household servants. Her attention
returned in time to hear what Adam said next..

“William,” Adam walked
across to William and drew him out from behind Billy. “A truly
loyal and faithful servant if ever there was one.” Adam grasped
him by the shoulder then presented him with a sheaf of papers.
William’s response equalled that of any lottery winner. He held
up, for all to see, a drawing of the long-dreamt of barouche, a rough
sketch of the phaeton, an even rougher sketch of six horses, and a
hasty attempt at a redesign of the stables and loft accommodation.
Next to Adam’s sketchy figure representing William, were two
stable hands, both with wooden legs and wheelboards. There was some
ill-concealed amusement amongst the servants at this point. The last
sheet of paper showed an extension to the stable block – an
attached cottage for his sole occupation.

“You are now dismissed for the
rest of the day. If any or all of you have concerns, please speak to
me tomorrow.”

William was first out of the door
clutching his drawings and stopping only to shake the hand of Billy,
who was following him, thus cluttering up the exit. Martha too was
blocking the doorway – she hadn’t wanted to be left alone
in the kitchen.

Adam called Johnson and Martha back.
“We’d like coffee served here immediately and the sugared
almonds I brought back – bring those in too. Then share a
couple of bottles of wine, or find some ale if you prefer. I hope
there’s still a cask in the cellar. Johnson, you may organize
something better another day. Martha can pour the coffee – you
join the others for a small celebration. We’ll have some Port,
if there’s any left…”

Johnson shook his head.

“My apologies,” Adam
glanced around the table, “Sugared almonds and coffee it is
then.” Adam was tired, Alexandra could see that, nevertheless
he turned to Raffles and said, “Parson Raffles, I believe you
have something you would like to say.”

Raffles stood up, “I do, I do.
Good words those. Words I am planning to say myself. Is that not
right, Miss Carpenter?”

Emmeline blushed and looked confused.
Alexandra wondered if he’d actually asked her yet. Catherine
gave a little cheer and Father Fox repeated several times, “Splendid
result, splendid.” Perhaps this phrase would replace his usual
‘utterly deplorable’. One can hope, thought Alexandra.

Johnson brought in two pots of coffee
and Martha followed with the cups. Johnson bowed and left for the
kitchen celebrations while Martha began pouring. Raffles wandered
over to Emmeline and patted her on the shoulder. She appeared to wink
at him. A nervous tic might be difficult for a parson’s wife –
winking at her husband’s congregation.

Adam was still standing beside his
chair when he said, “In readiness for a number of wedding
ceremonies to be held in your church, Parson Raffles, I have taken
the liberty of requesting a brochure.” Raffles looked puzzled.
“So that you may order an organ!”

There was a general murmur of pleasure
from the diners and a “Lord be praised,” from Martha.

Adam looked across to Alexandra. “I
also have an announcement to make. Yesterday I asked Alexandra a
question…”

Martha dropped the sweets, which rolled
around the floor, and clapped her hands together. “You better
of said yes, girl. I’m tellin’ ya – it better be
yes. I won’t be responsible for what I says if you don’t.
Go on, girl, say it!”

She was stopped from further exuberance
by Adam, which allowed Alexandra to say, “I already have.”

~

That night, by the light of a dozen
candles, Alexandra wrote in her diary, ‘I am consumed by my
love for Adam. I can think of nothing else. My admiration for his
saving of “Foxhills” knows no bounds. Apparently,
mustering every ounce of gold he could, he bought shares at their
lowest prices when all hope of victory had faded; then sold enough at
much higher prices when the triumphant announcement arrived. This
repaid all the loans and mortgages on the properties of the estate.
And, he says, he has sufficient holdings to produce an income worthy
of his family name. His dear, but ineffectual father has been
graciously but firmly retired. This long day has been unforgettable
and what I shall remember most was the long stemmed red rose Adam
placed in Martha’s gabbling mouth which he’d planned to
present to me.’

Hide in Time ~ Anna Faversham

Laura had to push with all her might.
The door from the tunnel to the twenty-first century would not budge;
it had been nailed up again. Some over-vigilant Health and Safety
official was no doubt zealously ensuring the tunnel was out of
bounds. At least it stopped explorers accidentally getting lost in
time. She weighed her options. Hmm… there weren’t many.
Daylight seeping through the cracks and the wind-up torch showed her
the tool case from the car was still there. Phew! If she couldn’t
kick it in, that might prove useful. She briefly wondered if an
invisible toe performed as well as a normal one. She’d already
ascertained that the rest of her foot was visible; she’d do a
thorough check later. Fortunately, she was wearing her black trousers
and strong walking shoes. She’d start with the damned good
kicking – not as easy as she’d hoped but eventually the
whole of the quarter panel gave way and she crawled out.

She peered out from behind the other
hoardings to see if anyone had heard. Making their way towards her
was a group of people, mostly middle-aged, and they were definitely
not what she had expected. Regardless, she stood up and walked
hastily towards them. Her heart was thumping. Something had gone very
wrong. She must speak appropriately.

“Good day, sir,” Laura said
to the middle-aged man leading the group. “My apologies for
alarming you. I slipped and fell into the hoardings. A frightful
noise.”

The man took off his black top hat and
bowed low. “I am honoured to assist such a charming damsel in
distress.”

Laura glanced at her black trousers,
her long-sleeved T shirt, the backpack she was clutching and the tool
box and contrasted it with his garb. A blue, double-breasted
tailcoat, smart trousers, and the black top hat still in his hands.
The ladies standing behind him were wearing bonnets and colourful
dresses with long skirts as round and wide as – well they’d
never fit in a car. Oh, please God, no! The women in the group were
looking at the two of them and smirking. With a sinking heart, she
realized it was almost a repeat performance of her emergence into the
twenty-first century after the shipwreck. That was the first time
she’d seen Matt and he had rescued her from the crowd’s
derision. Now she was on her own. Well, apart from this solicitous
man. She wanted Matt.

“It would be my pleasure to
accompany you to the festivities,” the man said, ostentatiously
offering his arm.

She had no intention of taking his arm;
he was making fun of her distress. She looked around at the tall
terraced houses, old and in need of repair. A faint hope was born.
“What festivities?”

“Come and I will show you the
delights of the age.”

The women burst out laughing. “Stop
it, John,” said one taking his hand and dragging him behind
her. “My husband gets carried away sometimes. The more years
he’s involved in the Dickens’ Festival, the worse he
gets.”

Dickens’ festival. Fancy dress!
“Oh thank God!” Laura exclaimed. “I thought I’d
stumbled through a time warp.”

“Yeah, well thanks for the
compliment,” said a woman who glared at the man, “but
this silly old lech is going to make us late.” They went off
arguing as to whether or not he was a lech. One day, Laura thought,
one day I’ll be able to laugh at all this. Now where had she
parked the car?

~

“Hello Jeeves, is Matt there?”
Laura twirled around with the hands-free phone and peered out of the
window. The street below bustled with people wandering to and fro. It
was definitely a weekday.

“Hello Laura. Sorry but he’s
not.”

“Wales again?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“When will he be back?”

“I’m expecting him to fly
home tomorrow or the next day at the very latest.”

Laura felt something was wrong. What
was he doing? Was there someone in particular he would see there? Had
she missed that…? She mustn’t let these concerns show.

“Oh good. I’m at work. I’ve
been away for a few days but I really want to see Matt as soon as
possible. I’ve tried his mobile but it’s switched off.”

“I am sure he would not mind if
you came to stay. I’ll be here all day, so come as soon as you
like – if you wish, that is.”

“Thanks, Jeeves, but I’ve a
fair bit to do here in the office. Better catch up, I suppose.”

“You could arrive in time for
dinner tonight perhaps?”

Laura gave in; a spot of spoiling would
not go amiss. “That sounds good. I’ll work like blazes,
then pop home, pack a bag, and be with you by seven. Is that ok?”
It might give her the opportunity to ask Jeeves if there was…no,
of course there wasn’t. Matt had asked her to marry him.

Jeeves seemed genuinely pleased for her
to come. Such a nice guy.

She wondered what day it was. She
should have asked him but he probably already thought she was a bit
doolally. She consulted her diary. She’d left early on June
15th, that was a Tuesday, and arrived at “Foxhills” the
same day (she congratulated herself – she hadn’t called
it ‘Adam’s’) but June 15th was a Thursday in 1815.
Try as she might, she could not remember what day she had left –
left them all for the last time. The coach had stopped overnight in
Rochester, Parson Raffles had farewelled at that point, then she’d
reached the seventy-seven steps leading down to the beach the
following day but very late in the evening. She’d picked up her
torch on the other side of the curtain of light (how unreal it all
seemed now) and kicked her way through the entrance to the tunnel the
following morning. What morning? It hadn’t occurred to her to
check the day or the date when she’d arrived home; she just
wanted to sleep. What day was it now? Monday? She should have paid
more attention to the radio before she came out. It was surely now
Monday morning and she hadn’t heard from Matt. No messages on
her answerphone, nothing. He nearly always contacted her at the
weekends, even if it was just a text. “Frankly, I don’t
care what day it is,” she said aloud. “I just want to see
Matt.”

It was not unusual for his mobile to be
switched off and for her not to be able to leave a message; Wales
must have poor reception in places. But when she rang his number now,
there was not even the ring tone so no chance of leaving a message.
It was as if the battery had run down completely. She puzzled over
this for a moment then buckled down to sorting out her answerphone
messages and emails. This would also confirm the date.

~

By three o’clock she was so very
tired but there was one more job to do. She picked up her handbag and
the pen on her desk, locked the office, and crossed the road to the
jewellers. She handed the owner the black Parker pen engraved with
the name ‘Cornell’. “I believe you lent this to me
some time ago and I’ve had it ever since. I’m sorry. It’s
about time I returned it. And here is one of my company’s pens
– the least I can do to make up for keeping yours so long.”

It’s not enough just to say
sorry. It was a satisfying feeling – this putting things right.