Of Lorenz Theory & Love

Jimmy & Darcy: Tessera Nightclub, Summer 1941

Charmed CW characters belong to Charmed CW. Denis and Tera, Darcy, Della, and Dora Valensi are my imagination at work. Light 1940s research was conducted for context.

9 Jimmy & Darcy: Tessera Nightclub, Summer 1941

Celeste knew James ("Jimmy") Westwell hadn't always been a philandering cad. Be that as it may, it never made cleaning up after him any easier.

Midnight, Oldham, Greater Manchester, July 1941

Fresh-faced, jaunty Jimmy Westwell was out on the town celebrating with chums after yet another successful performance as Puck in "A Midsummer Night's Dream" at Oldham Coliseum Theatre. After at least ten pub-crawls however, the men were growing exhausted. At this point, Jimmy rounded a corner, and a building appeared as if by magic that he never recalled seeing before. He pointed out the establishment excitedly, but his theater chums fell away as they had early morning rehearsal, or girlfriends to rendezvous with.

Jimmy found himself completely and utterly alone.

"Tessera Nightclub," the marquee read. "Free entry, closes 1 am." Luckily, Jimmy was dressed as dapper as ever, with a white-collared dress shirt, dark pants, and a matching navy blue suit jacket. He showed the doorman his identification and was admitted into what vaguely resembled a sorceress' jazz club. Jimmy walked the back perimeter of the locale, closely observing both the commonplace and unusual sights one might associate with such a place. The saxophones were there, the bass performed excellently, but he detected an odd scent of jasmine intermingled with frankincense and patchouli, deep purple silk hangings as far as the eye could see, and could have sworn he saw rose quartz energy crystals hanging in the eaves.

After exchanging his quid for a "Salem Witch Cocktail" (club soda, melon liqueur, lime juice, grenadine, and lord knows what else), Jimmy heard the final act perform—a truly beguiling singer with the most intriguing hair and complexion he had ever seen. He, personally, was not drawn to limpid, somber British women whose time in the sun oftentimes left them ill-tempered, red-faced, and raw.

The singer went by the name "Miss Darcy" and sang a slow, sultry, captivating song she wrote herself, named "For You I Wait, Hut 8," which went something like this:

Stanza 1:

Hello baby, meet me 'round the tea lights of Hut 8,

I wait, under three shooting stars for you, to woo,

Me—Oh! Think of the infinite sparks we could create—

Whirl me 'round, whatever you do, don't dare be late.

Stanza 2:

Promise me midnight's opaline moon,

Hold my raven hand in your white light, and baby, I'll swoon.

I'll be your onyx, I'll be your lady,

Just please, won't you say maybeeee...

Miss Darcy looked straight at Jimmy as she uttered her lines. Noticing her gaze, he looked around and noticed that the few men there appeared momentarily transfixed, almost frozen entirely, but for their audible breathing and reliably ticking Jaeger-LeCoultre wristwatches, a new men's fashion trend as of late. He also observed a rather severe-looking woman, referred to as "Elder Celeste" by others nearby celebrating said woman's birthday while dressed in long, cloaked robes. Jimmy thought he saw Celeste arguing with the bartender about how slow her Djinn-and-tonic was taking and how nobody knew how to make it correctly. He would have thought the entire situation peculiar, if he hadn't been completely besotted with the talented, beautiful Miss Darcy.

1 am, Oldham, Greater Manchester, July 1941

Tessera Nightclub closed for the evening, and Jimmy was unceremoniously left to his own devices, the door having been shut and thoroughly padlocked. He looked around, first to his left, and then to his right. The Tessera crowd had dispersed rather quickly—there was no one in sight. He noticed a door adjoining the nightclub that had purple streamers in its window and on a whim, decided to knock.

"Come in," a mellifluous voice responded.

Jimmy entered, closing the door behind him. He walked through the dark-yet-vibrant mauve flat, ensconced in deep plum-colored draperies, noticing all of the stringed crystals and burning incense sticks, eight to each windowpane corner, their scalded heads slowly crumpling into darkened, lifeless pellets.

"I'm—"

"Jimmy. I know," the lady answered.

Jimmy followed her voice until he reached the one bedroom at the end of the hall, its door wide open, lit with a multitude of open-flamed candles. It was the starlet Miss Darcy herself.

"How?"

"Celeste. Older lady. Nothing escapes her," Darcy answered. "The question is, though, why is she so interested in you?"

"I have no earthly idea," said Jimmy, puzzled at this strange twist of events. He wanted to tell Darcy how wonderful he thought her music was, not discuss the eccentricities of a crotchety, middle-aged woman.

"Celeste wants me to get to know you, so I will. She muttered something about my Hut 8 song being a centuries-long prophecy, but I have no idea what that has to do with anything. And I'm pretty sure her drink was a bit too strong tonight for her to make any sense, if you know what I mean. Why were you here tonight?" Darcy fixed her mahogany eyes on his visage.

"I—I'm an actor—I was out celebrating—and I saw Tessera Nightclub. I mean—I've never seen it before in my life. Quite impressive, the music and décor, really—" Jimmy stammered nervously, as Darcy continued studying him.

"Tessera Nightclub reaches out to people. This building called out to you for help," declared Darcy.