Sunday, March 29, 2020

The Time Travelers' Club: Chapter 30 -- An Old Friend

Chapter 30 – An Old Friend
Mrs. Steers appeared on a deserted street in Whitechapel.   She prayed that Sam was safe in St. James's Place with Rose to protect him.

"Don't fret, Lottie… He's fine."  She repeated to herself, trying to comfort her fears with her own words.  She felt terrible leaving Sam without telling him.

"Rose… Rose will watch him…"  She pulled herself together and took several deep breaths.  Right now, Mrs. Steers had a greater mission to complete. Walking along the street, she peered into several alleys, hoping to find the right one.  Stopping under a flickering gas wall sconce, Mrs. Steers reread her directions.

"Between Rup and Lam...  Look for the bill with QVDJ..."  She had deciphered the clues and knew where to go and what to look for.  Somewhere between Rupert and Lambert Streets in the Whitechapel area was an alley with a handbill about the Queen Victoria's Diamond Jubilee.

After much searching, Mrs. Steers spotted a weathered handbill glued to a brick wall down an alley.  Studying the faded print, she read the words Join us in our Diamond Jubilee.   This was it, the bill with QVDJ. 

"Where is it?  It should be here.  He told me to meet him here.  Just as the instructions said."  She glanced up and down the dim street.  The flickering pale glow of the gas lamplights weren't much help.

As she stood in the dark street, a dimly lit store front appeared on the brick wall behind her.  She whirled around to see oil lamps illuminating the stained-glass windows.  It was Rupert Jameson's bookshop where she and Albert had gone many times since their first visit.  Now, Jameson was a trusted friend.

As Mrs. Steers entered the shop, the bell hanging above the door tinkled.  The lamps glowed, casting dancing shadows on the packed shelves.    She crept towards the warm pot-belly stove.  There was no sign of Jameson.

She whispered. "Jameson!  Are you here?"

"Lottie?  Is that you? Are you alone?"  From behind an immense pile of well-worn books, Jameson appeared.  "Thank goodness.  I thought you were one of them."

"Are you alright?  Have they caught up with you?" Mrs. Steers held his hands.  "Don't worry, I'm alone.  And you have your great veil keeping the place well hidden.  I thought I'd missed you."

Jameson looked at her.  "They're on the move.  I've heard they're after the book.  Somehow, they know it's here.  How about the boy?"

"Sam is with me.  Well, he's not here at this moment.  He's hiding somewhere in Whitechapel with Rose keeping an eye on him."  Mrs. Steers wrung her hands.  "I hope he's safe.  He’s a bright boy.  He can take care of himself.”

Jameson looked concerned. "He still knows little of what is actually going on?"

"As far as I know he doesn’t, but this is not the time to be concerned," said Mrs. Steers.  "He'll be fine.  Do you have it?"

 "Yes.  It is well hidden.  Follow me."  Jameson and Mrs. Steers moved to the back of the store, standing behind the warm pot belly stove.

Picking up an oil lamp from the counter, Jameson led the way down a narrow aisle filled with packed shelves of old leather-bound books, boxes of various sizes and shapes, and dusty old bottles filled with unidentifiable potions and mixtures. Jameson balanced the lamp on a waist-high wooden crate.

“I have to unpack this,” said Jameson. “It’s in my way.”

“What is it?” asked Mrs. Steers.

Jameson only said “A holy relic” as he slid a stack of dusty old books to one side, exposing a box covered in green velvet.  Its silver handle and closing clasp sparkled in the lamp's light.  He lifted the box from its hiding place and held it in front of her.

"Open it," said Jameson.

After raising the lid, Mrs. Steers removed a book-sized package wrapped in brown paper.  "That makes four.  You would never guess where it was found.  In a village named Denhoff in an area of the United States called North Dakota.   Are you familiar with it?"

"Well, not the town, but I know where North Dakota is," said Mrs. Steers. "How did it get there?"
"Apparently, a family migrating from Southern Russia to this Denhoff had gotten the book in Odessa before they sailed.  The details are rather sketchy," he added indifferently.

"Interesting place for it turn up," said Mrs. Steers.

"How are the others doing on their own tasks?"  Just then, with a snapping poof, a piece of paper flew out of nowhere.  Jameson grabbed it before it disappeared in the mess.

"Someone has used the messenger incantation," said Mrs. Steers taking the note from him. She read it aloud.  "Whitechapel, now!  Come and get Sam!"

"Oh no!  How could they have found out about him?" Mrs. Steers stashed the book deep inside one of the interior pockets of her travel bag and raced to the door. "Jameson, I have to go.  I'll contact you later, but now I must get Sam and get him safely back home.  Not to mention the book." She patted her travel bag.

"I'll be in touch," said Jameson.

Closing the door behind her, the shop front faded away.  Mrs. Steers disappeared. She had to find Sam.

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