Close Call

Chapter 7

"It was a gift." Peony blushed as she continued, "The second time I broke through was the first time I intended to get through. I didn't know if I had to just walk through or whether I should use force so I took a run at the bank. As you have seen it isn't necessary. Momentum carried me through with too much force and I skidded and sloughed all the skin from my knee."

She bent and gestured to the rip in her jeans, Philip could still see the scab.

"I sprawled out of the privy onto the wet cobblestones of the yard. My clothes were covered in manure, or worse. I must have cried out because before I knew it I was being hauled up by the scruff of my jacket collar,"

Peony shivered, she could still feel the frozen breath on her neck as he'd spoken. It was as if all her will to resist was being sucked from her.

*

"You'll get in trouble if you don't keep up the pace. Where's your mallet gotten to?" The voice wasn't unkind, but it was warning her, without consideration of what was going on or where she was, she would haves accepted the admonishment meekly and turned away. But she'd had to remind herself this wasn't real, it wasn't where she belonged.

"I don't take kindly to being man-handled. Release me, won't you?"

The hand on her collar lightened and the figure came round to look at her.

"You're a girl?"

She straightened up, brushing of the dirt from her clothes as best she could.

"Perceptive."

"I'm sorry. Your dress is," the speaker paused, "Is unconventional. You must get to the ladies side; this isn't the place for you, there isn't work for you here."

"I'm not looking for work; I'm looking for my sister. She came through here. Perhaps you saw her."

Peony dug into her jeans pocket produced a photo. The image was crumpled but clear enough. As the young man took it from her, their fingers brushed. Peony almost dropped the photograph. It was as if she had been sucked into a vortex momentarily, her head spun after she had relinquished contact and her fingers still tingled.

The young man gasped too, but when she looked at him, the man's face was glowing with pleasure not surprise.

"What is it?"

She hadn't been expecting a reaction of this kind, thinking he too had felt the pulling sensation.

"Your artistry is stupendous! The colours are so life like."

Peony looked at the image which was no more than the most recent snapshot of Jenny printed up from the computer.

"I-uh,"

"You must show me your technique!"

"What's it to you?" She snapped at her would-be helper and instantly regretted it. The joy was wiped from his face and that somehow saddened her.

Peony sized him up a little better, he was tall young gentleman, dressed in check tweed trousers and a beige jacket of the same material. His clothes were clean and smart, bar his leather shoes which were covered in muck, the style was Victorian.

Why had the time never occurred to her before? When was this? Peony half laughed in her confusion the reaction petering out into an awkward smile. His chill breath no longer felt so cold when she met his light green eyes.

"Do you work here?" she blurted out.

"No. I'm taking photographs. That's why this is so intriguing," He gestured to the crumpled photocopy, "The tinting is so, so life like!"

Tinting? She thought back to what she had learned about photography in history. There had been the daguerreotype in the 1800s then Fox Talbot had created the negative, but that was still back in the nineteenth century...

"It's a process I've been working on." she mumbled hesitantly seeing he was expecting her to say something.

"So you are a photographer too?"

"It's a hobby."

She thought about all the snaps on Instagram; this wasn't so far from the truth.

"You?"

"I should like to make a career of it." He looked at her coyly from under red eye lashes which matched his wavy hair, "My father says I'm a spoiled fool, but I worship to this new technology. I believe it is the future and I have been documenting everyday life here, in the silk mill around the town."

It was then that Peony saw the tripod and an antique Kodak camera, only it was as good as new; that certainly put her back over a century.

"Do you have any photographs? I would like to see them."

"I can bring them for you to see. How about tomorrow?"

"I wasn't intending to come back here, but I can." Peony had never felt such heat surging through her veins, "For you."

"How rude of me, may I introduce myself. My name is Ethan Clancy. Here," He handed her a tiny wooden bobbin. " My aopologies for having no calling card. Please take this instead. I was saving it as a souvenir from the silk mills, but I think I would like you to have it."

Peony took the gift and felt the strange chill surge course through her as their hands touched again. This time Peony endured its dizzying effect. The young gentleman smiled.

"I will look out for your sister."

"Thank you." she said and turned away from him. Stumbling back towards the privy from where she had come, Peony glanced back but the workhouse had gone and she was standing once more looking at the Dump. Her stomach felt tender as though she was going to throw up and she had a niggling feeling that she had forgotten something, but couldn't pinpoint what it was.

*

"Have you been back since then? Did you see him again?"

"Yes. I went the next day as promised, but he wasn't there. In fact that's when I realized that there was not time parallel. It was late evening that time."

"I don't understand how you could communicate with him or he with you. The others we have see are oblivious. When I tried to grab that woman my hand went straight through like a ghost."

Peony shrugged.

"Another time I did come upon him and I did see the photographs he had taken, some of them at least."

"Why did you want to see them?"

"I was curious, thought perhaps there would be a clue as to what has happened to Jenny." I wanted to see him again, she blushed at the thought.

"And?"

"Jenny wasn't in any of them."

Peony looked so drained all of a sudden. Philip wanted to reach out to her hug her reassure her that it would all be OK but he was a virtual stranger and he had no guarantees to offer her.

"I saw the girl, though."

"Which girl?"

"The girl who took Jenny; the one who called her over. She is the Master's daughter. Ethan says she was a spoilt brat. An only child who had whatever she wanted. The master had insisted that she pose for several photographs."

"Do you think Jenny is with her?"

"I think that is the most possible, but I haven't been able to get near her."

"We must try again."