Lost in Time - Part 1

Matchmaking

Saoirse exasperated her new "sister" Hetty . She refused to wear a corset, ignoring the other's admonishments.

Both girls were sitting on Hetty's bed, with dresses, undergarments and laces all around.

"You know, you sound just like Agnes when she starts applying me a sermon for drinking too much, dating multiple guys..."

They were talking in Hetty's room and a week was past. The blonde was astonished at Saoirse's comment.

"If I'm not mistaken, you just said you stay alone with multiple men... Multiple? Without a chaperone?"

Saoirse screeched with laughter. If only she could tell.

"Is there something more? Are you mocking me, Saoirse?"

That did it. Saoirse looked into those kind blue eyes and felt remorse.

"I'm sorry, Hetty. It's nothing like that. Where I come from, women can have sex with whomever and whenever they want."

Hetty flushed scarlet.

"Before getting married?"

"Of course, that's our prerogative! And we work, too! I'm studying to become a lawyer. Come to think of it, I may lose the semester, I hope nothing more, till this problem is solved..."

Hetty, on a burst of emotion, grabbed Saoirse's hands and pleaded:

"Take me with you, then! I want to become a Politician! Are there many in your world, being women?"

"You'd be surprised," she squeezed Hetty's hands. "Tell you what, why don't you wait a little longer? My world is almost getting here!"

"I don't understand," Hetty looked puzzled.

"Can I take some dresses with me when I leave? They look better than I thought," asked Saoirse. "Maybe I'll try a corset."

Hetty held one of Saoirse's socks on the bed and said:

"That assuming you are going back. Where did you come from? China? These clothes are really peculiar."

"I told you, I come from Dublin. Everyone keeps forgetting."

"Strange. You speak in a different way than us, with different cadences. I don't mean your brogue, but some of your vocabulary. It's quite incomprehensible."

"That's why I thought of writing a book about Time Travelling and becoming a writer while I'm still here."

Hetty gasped in earnest.

"So you're a time traveler?! That explains your customs and dressing code!"

Right at this moment, Saoirse's mobile started to vibrate.

Crap.

"What's that? What was that noise?" Hetty sounded scared.

"Hetty, grab that shiny object. Thanks. Oh, fuck. That's that. Your father already knows, I figure you should as well."

Hetty stared, without comprehending, while Saoirse checked for messages.

Congratulations! You made a friend other than Agnes! Careful not to lose it!

"If I didn't need this thing so bad to survive, I'd throw it against the wall," Saoirse muttered, annoyed.

"Saoirse? What is that?"

Saoirse rolled her eyes. How did 19th Century people lived without Internet and technology?

And now, Saoirse found out she could live without mobiles, at least.

"It's a mobile fucking phone, Hetty !" she answered angrily.

"And what a name it has!" she said, disgusted.

Saoirse laughed against her will.

"The name is 'mobile phone'. It has been causing me so many problems."

"Well, then get rid of it."

"I can't! It may be the only way of me getting back home."

"Aw, poor baby!" Hetty enveloped Saoirse with her white arms. "I don't understand anything, but today I'm going to sing an opera. If you'd like to see, I can give you a ticket."

"Absofuckinglutely, sister!"

Hetty laughed. Saoirse seemed genuinely excited.

"You need to work on your language, Saoirse. You're a lady."

She hated to hear that. Especially because it reminded her so much of Agnes, who used to say the same thing...

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Hetty sang like an angel. It reminded Saoirse of Christine Daae, but now it was not just a character. Then, something struck her.

That annoying man who was Treves's friend. He was all gooey over Hetty and she took no notice of him. She just signed his program like everyone else's.

What if...

What if Saoirse did like Jane Austen's 'Emma' and became a matchmaker?

After all, she had a lot of time in her hands.

And they both had a lot in common. Saoirse found him nosy and insufferable, but she couldn't deny he was sweet and innocent. A man Hetty deserved.

And something said she should help them.

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Hetty and Saoirse were preparing to sleep. The blonde's room smelled of jasmine and Saoirse wondered how. Maybe it was Hetty herself.

"Tomorrow I have the day off," Hetty said, on cue. "What do you want to do?"

"I... um... You know, I miss that deformed guy that visits your family. I think we should go and see him. He went to your concert today."

"What? Well, I don't think we should. And you do have such a crass way of expressing yourself, Saoirse!"

"Shut up. I wanna go to the London Hospital. You asked me what I wanted to do. I'm the guest."

Hetty sighed.

"He's scary. I can't deny he is gentle, though. Why do you want to go there?"

Saoirse had no excuse at the moment, but prayed to the God she had never believed there would be one soon.

"Because I want to go sightseeing, of course," she didn't even know why she had said that.

"Alright... We'll go. Only for you, Saoirse. Good night."

They covered themselves from head to toe and that jasmine scent was like wildfire in the room.