13 Novella 4

Emily

Your feet hit solid ground and you stumble, desperately trying to regain your balance.

You are standing on a cobbled street in strange half light, lampposts illuminating the path further down. You shiver at the temperature and wrap your coat further around yourself, starting as a door opens behind you.

"Hello lass, you here for Miss Davison?" She asks kindly, and you stare at her in confusion.

"Um... I don't think so" you say uncertainly and she smiles warmly. Hastily you go to slide off your headpiece and shove it in your pocket, meeting her eyes again.

"It's alright dear we don't judge here, we've got many a widow keeping residence, you'll be just fine, you'll see" she says, ushering you in. You take care not to let her touch you, flinching when she reaches for your coat.

"I'm sorry my dear, you're so young to have been treated like that by a man" she says and you freeze, wondering how she could possibly know this.

She smiles encouragingly and leads you down a hall into a spacious living room with mattress beds littering the floor.

About fifteen women look up at you kindly when you enter, ceasing their chatting by the low candle light. You are shocked by the general decor, it looks so old fashioned, as do the women's clothes.

"Alright love? Come and sit, Sheila grab her a cuppa" calls one woman and you sit carefully, not too close, while a young woman presses a hot cup into your hand which you hold gratefully.

"It's alright, we won't hurt you, you're safe now." Says a woman in an armchair. She has brown hair tucked and pinned neatly beneath a bonnet with a long grey dress, darned in several places.

"Where am I?" You ask, abandoning all pretences.

"London dear" she nods and you are surprised. You've definitely travelled then.

"But, hang on... what's the day today?" You ask, dreading the answer.

"June 7th" she says watching your reaction. "Have you had a hit on the head dear?" She adds at your bemused expression, and several women chuckle good naturedly.

"Um... I'm sorry, but what year is it?" You whisper and she laughs a little. "Same year it's been for the past six months"

She sees your expectant face and her smile falters.

"It's 1913" she says slowly, and you feel all the air leave your lungs.

The angel, it had taken you back in time.

You had no form of communication, no friends, no family, and no way of getting back.

Recognising your shock, the women continue chattering quietly to give you some space while the kind woman from the armchair comes and sits next to you.

"What's your name?" She asks politely and you blink.

"Um, (Y/n)" you say honestly.

"Nice to meet you (Y/n), my name is Miss Davison, but you can call me Emily." She says with an affirmative nod.

You start at that name and look at her in disbelief.

"You're Emily Davison?" You gasp and she nods, a little confused. "Then you're a suffragette!" You exclaim and she nods proudly.

"Sure am, golly I didn't realise we were spreading that fast! To all you young lasses anyway! I tell you what, Miss Pankhurst will be pleased to hear it." She says and you smile at that too. "You know, you'll fit right in here- why don't you come with us tomorrow, we'll be making quite a show at the races" she winks as the date finally clicks in your mind and you feel the air taken from your lungs yet again.

June 8th 1913, at the Epsom races, Emily Davison throws herself in front of the kings horse, trying to place the flag on its neck- the flag! You had seen it from the angel, flapping in the wind brandishing white, purple and green.

You should have figured it out sooner.

"You don't have to go" you find yourself blurting out suddenly. Emily was a real person, apparently offering sanctuary to widows, cast out by their husbands for their political views. You could tell her, you could warn her not to do it, explain what happens.

But you knew deep down, even as you thought this, The Doctor would never allow it. You could disrupt all of history.

"It's going to be wonderful, the races are televised you see, the entire country will be watching! We'll finally be heard!" She says reverently and the women behind all cheer.

"Of course, deeds not words" you mutter and she looks at you strangely.

"What a neat motto, I may just pass that one on to Miss Pankhurst herself. It really catches our spirit." She says and you groan, clutching your stomach suddenly, having forgotten about it until this moment.

Emily looks at you in concern before snapping her fingers.

"Right you, I'll set you a bed down and you can stay the night, it's up to you if you want to come in the morning" she says kindly and you nod gratefully.

You were scared, tired and in pain.

You are lead to a single mattress with a blanket in a corner, where you curl up after a girl not much older than yourself brings you a cup of warm broth. She laughs a little at your clothes but you stay quiet.

You probably looked out of place enough without giving her any more ammunition.

As you lay listening to the whispered conversations of the women nearby you contemplate what to do next.

Your priority should be trying to get a signal of some kind that only The Doctor would recognise, but as to how you could do that, you had no idea. Your only hope was that she may have connected the dots of the coloured flag you had described to her, and made the link of whereabouts in history you were.

You felt it was rather a long shot.

Sighing and rolling over you try not to picture any of their faces too vividly, for each time it brought around a fresh wave of pain.

Sniffling quietly, you try to get some sleep.