Martha My Dear

The Door

"Shall we go in here?" Lucy asked as she studied the handwritten sign in the Liverpool Museum,

'Beatles ~ A day in the life ~ be transported back to 1959 with our incredible 3D Beatles experience'

"Incredible?" I mocked as we surveyed the entrance to the exhibit, a thin battered wooden door. Lucy laughed in agreement and turned to walk away, usually I too would have left the creepy door well alone but I was intrigued. Anyway, it must be safe, others must have gone through the door ~ whether they reemerged I suppose is another matter.
"Sod it" I proclaimed "lets go in"

I pulled the door ajar ,which surprisingly opened quite easily despite it's rusty looking hinges. Peering through the aperture I could see it lead to a claustrophobic alley. Where it lead to was indecipherable but the strong smell of damp and cold breeze hinted it lead to outside of the museum. I cautiously stepped into the alleyway, loose gravel crunched underfoot.
"It all looks a bit dodgey doesn't it?" I moaned to my friend, surprised at how echoed my voice had become due to the close walls of my new surroundings,
"come along Watson!"

But Lucy didn't follow suit, she stared past me, evidently not seeing me or the alleyway backdrop.
"Martha" Her shakey voice rung out " Martha this isn't funny.... stop messing around, the doors painted on and the signs a folly. ..where are you?"
Suddenly the door slammed shut in my face and faded into the murky darkness of my surroundings. I groped the walls, desperately searching for the opening ,but there was nothing.

After clawing at the brickwork for what seemed like hours I finally gave up hope. I looked down the narrow ginnel and decided that maybe I could just go around this 'Beatles experience' until the end where I would find myself back at the museum.
But what about the 'painted on door' that Lucy said.... the sign wasn't real.. this place isn't real
I pushed the worries from my mind and ran down my only escape route.

Upon reaching the end of the ginnel, I was greeted with another , equally confusing, location. Although thick black smog obscured my vision, I could tell immediately where I was - Liverpool. The place looked entirely different though, compared with the Liverpool me and Lucy walked around this morning. You could tell it was the same place though, as some older buildings were still there, the Mersey could be seen in the distance and ,most of all, the feel of the place was still the same.
Realising I was centred in a busy market square, I became observent of those around me. I stared at the scence unfurling before me : burley men hauling in new crates of various products brought straight in from the docks; men manning stalls selling produce of fish and vegetables ; women in rollers filling their baskets with goods.
Mesmerised, I pondered on the scene for a while before a more useful sight caught my eye - a newsagent stand - parked up in the middle of the square. I walked up to it and perused the newspapers on sale. I disregarded their headlines and grayscale pictures as only one thing stood out to me , the date.

June 6th 1959