Charlotte Branwell sank herself a little bit more in the pillows behind her back, in her chair, sighing as she did so, relief flooding through her, as the ache in her back eased a big portion. She looked down to the huge bump on her stomach, and grinned.
"Now, small person. I have a request to make of you, or if you have a brother or sister in there, them too. Can you please stop assaulting your poor mother internally? Either way, I think I'm going to have a little boxer, what do you think? Will would like that. Or maybe, you're a reader, or inventer, like your blessed dad. Your dad would love that too. He'd be high for the rest of his life with you, if you had something like that. Or maybe, you're a character like Jem. I dearly hope that you have his manners." Charlotte laughed, and gave a soft gasp when she felt a couple of kicks. "Or maybe you'll be like me, small person, or persons. But, if you are, don't make the same mistakes I did. I'm glad that you will never get to meet my parents. I know that sounds mean, but, you'll never make that mistake that I did. But you'll have your dad's grandparents, and, even though your not quite here yet, they love you. Your nans even started knitting, and your grandpa and his friends are having bets about whether or not you are going to be a boy or girl."
Charlotte rubbed her stomach, resulting in more kicks, and she thought even a little punch.
"And, you are not, going to be jinxed with that blasted name, Buford. What do you think of Charlie if you are a girl? Or Charles if you're a little chappy?" Charlotte asked. "One kick yes, two kicks no."
She grinned wider as she got one kick. Five minutes went by, and another kick didn't come, even when she patted her stomach.
"Charlie or Charles, the Consul's child. That matches don't you think? I hope Will doesn't find out about that one, or come up with it. Otherwise we'll never hear the end of it, eh?" Charlotte whispered, leaning her head back against the chair, closing her eyes brown eyes.
"Oh, damn," she whispered. "Talking of your dad..."
She heaved herself out of the chair, giving a groan, rubbing the painful spot on her back.
*
She held a lantern, its flame crackling wildly, the flame soon to vanish within the depths of the thick liquid wax.
Charlotte entered the crypt, and breathed in the strange smell of baking cinnamon and apples, one of her favourite smells in fact.
Charlotte walked over to her husband's desk, where he was bent over a metal device, to the side of his desk on the ground.
It was a square object at the bottom, sitting on four little gold clawed feet. It had a shining black metal service, where two little black buttons sat before a gold brass object, a greater version of a trumpet flower. Except the wide opening of the funnel at the top, which faced forwards towards charlotte, it was much more grand, and wide at the bottom, unlike the flower.
But, in the space between the Brass Funnel and two black buttons at the edge of the three-dimensional raised box, was a two-dimensional black, circular object, spinning weirdly, silently. Above the black circular object, was a small metal arm, with a little nail hooked on the under-edge of it.
"Henry, dear, may I ask what on earth, is this device of yours?" Charlotte asked curiously, faint caution coming onto her tone.
"Oh, hello dear!" Henry said to his wife, astonished and happy, as though this was the first time he had seen her in an age. "How are you, and little Buford?" Henry said happily, Charlotte letting him give her a gentle hug. Only Henry would be surprised to see his wife in their own home, Charlotte thought sardonically. "Oh, yes, dear, I have decided to call it a Gramophone. With the Gramophone, and a disc, the discs can be snapped easily too mind, you can record the voice of a person or animal, on to the disc, via the Gramophone. And, you can put a disc on the Gramophone, and if music has been recorded on to the disc, the music can be played, again and again on the gramophone!" Henry finished breathlessly, excitedly. Ingenuity was radiating from his rumpled iron red hair.
