Trapped in 1895
Chapter 25

Cheryl arrived for duty at the Black Stallion on the following day and went up to the restaurant and almost immediately, Rory called out.

“Miss Brown. Could you go to the markets and get a basket of potatoes and broccoli?” Rory asked, in his nicest brogue. Cheryl, who was in a good mood, after spending a nice breakfast with Mrs. Cole and Harry replied, “Surely, Rory.”

It was early morning and a beautiful summer day. Even the air was breathable. Everybody was cheerful and Cheryl had many greetings. She was getting quite well known now. She reached the market and found a vegetable dealer.

“None of that ’Orstralian trash here, miss. Good old honest English spuds and broccoli we sell.”

Cheryl bought a dozen and took a shortcut through a lane. As she was halfway down, two hands gripped her arms from behind and an ugly old man appeared in front of her.

“Well, hello again, young miss. Remember me, we need to talk.”

“What do you want?” She said, struggling.

“You’ll find out,” he replied, signalling to someone behind her. Two men expertly tied her hands, then gagged and blindfolded her. Unable to see anything, she heard a horse trot up. The big man picked her up and threw her on a cart, violently banging the side of her face and another tied to her feet. The men climbed on the cart and it trotted off with Cheryl bumping and rolling around in the back. Eventually, it came to a stop, and she was carried up to a room and dumped onto a filthy, smelly old mattress. She could almost feel the bed bugs crawling over her. They left her there, blindfolded, gagged, and tied for half an hour.

Determined not to cry, Cheryl bit her lip and suffered till a pair of hands lifted her up and deposited her in a chair. Her hands were untied, then bound to the chair as well as her feet. When they took the blindfold off, the ugly old man appeared in front of her.

“Now, young miss, I’m going to remove your gag. There is no point in screaming. Plenty of women scream all the time here. Nobody takes any notice. Understand?”

Cheryl nodded, and he removed her gag.

“What do you want?” she demanded.

“A little birdy has informed me you’re from the future.”

“Don’t be so bloody ridiculous.”

In response, Big Billy raised his arm and swung his enormous hand open, stretched towards Cheryl’s cheek. Cheryl braced herself but it stopped short, a whisker away, then stroked Cheryl’s cheek softly.

“Now, Big Billy here didn’t want to hurt you, but he will if I tell him to. He has hurt dozens of women, so he won’t bother about you. Now, I repeat, are you from the future?”

“Yes,” said Cheryl, timidly.

“What year?”

“Twenty-twenty one”

“Blimey. That’s...”

“One hundred and twenty-one years.”

“Alright, let’s get down to business. Who won the Ascot?”

“How the hell should I know?” retorted Cheryl. “I’m not a historian.”

Big Billie raised his mighty fist in the air and was about to pummell Cheryl’s face with it but the old man stopped him with his cane.

“You know sometimes I can’t stop him. Perhaps a bit more subtle persuasion might be better.”

He signalled to the thin evil man who removed a razor-sharp knife from his shirt. He came over to Cheryl and in a smooth, unhurried fashion sliced Cheryl’s dress from the neck to mid cleavage exposing bare flesh, then pressed the point into the skin between her breasts.

“Now let’s start again, shall we?”

Frantically, Cheryl cried out, “but I don’t know.”

In response, the knife bit deeper into the flesh and blood began to ooze out.

“He’ll push that knife in for half an inch, then draw it all the way up to your throat.”

Cheryls mind raced.

“Wait, wait. Look, I can’t think like this. Let me rest and get something to drink then I’ll tell you everything I know.”

The ugly old man stared at her.

“Ok, let her be. Big Billie, let her rest and bring her some ale. Piper, go get Henry. He can read and write everything she says.”

“Then what will we do with her?”

“She’ll just be another body in the Thames!”

They left a very frightened Cheryl with a trickle of blood running down between her breasts.

It had become Harry’s habit to drop in on Cheryl at the Black Stallion in the later afternoon. He sat at a table, then asked Nicholaus where Cheryl was.

“Couldn’t say. She went out on an errand for Rory this morning and hasn’t come back.”

Harry jumped up and went into the kitchen, searching out Rory, who was chopping up meat with a huge cleaver.

“Ah dinna know where that little bitch is, but when she turns up I’ll have her head.”He brought the cleaver down on a large rump, chopping it in half.

“Where the hell did you send her?” yelled Harry, losing his temper.

“She went to the markets to get me some vegetables this morning. She should be back now.”

“I’m going to find her,” said Harry.

Harry made his way to the markets and found the vegetable seller and asked if he had seen Cheryl.

“That nice little ’un that comes with Mrs. Cole and talks funny.”

“That’s her.”

“Aye, she bought spuds and broccoli from me this morning.”

“Did you see which way she went?”

“Up the old alley, mate.”

Harry entered the old alley and half-way along he found her basket with spilled vegetables. The horse dung was thick in this alley and he could see signs of a struggle. Four sets of footprints then three. There were also carriage tracks, and a horse had stopped there. He could see fresh droppings. He followed the tracks till they left the alley, then disappeared and the road was quite clean here. Sitting nearby was an old beggar.

“’ere mate. You see, a cart came out of here.”

The beggar stared at Harry, then at his cap on the ground containing a few grimy pennies. Harry tossed a penny in, then another. After the sixth penny, he pulled a shilling out.

“This is yours, you old ruffian, but only if you spill the beans.”

“Ugly Dan Bowers and his two thugs. Dangerous people, them are.”

“Was there anyone else with them, a girl perhaps?”

“Didn’t see anyone else.”

“Any idea where they would be headed?”

“Molly’s brothel would be my guess. They always hang out there.”

He tossed the coin in the hat, then found a Hansom cab.

“Take me to Molly’s brothel,” he asked.

“Can take you to much nicer and healthier places, guv.”

“Molly’s brothel is what I want.”

“Your neck, mister.”

The cab approached Molly’s hotel and passed by the entrance.

“Whoa, driver. You’re passing it.”

“Nobody goes in the front door of Molly’s brothel except Molly or the cops. We go round the back.”

He pulled up at an alley and said, “Go right up this alley and you will come across a courtyard. Look for a red door. That’s what you’re looking for.”

He tossed some money to the driver and carefully went up the alley and came across a cart. He looked in the cart and found some. fabric that had caught on a nail and tore off Cheryl’s dress. He became concerned when he found some blood on it. The red door stood out like a beacon.

Taking a deep breath, he opened the door. He heaved a sigh of relief when he saw the empty reception desk. Giving thanks that he put on his soft shoes, he sneaked along the corridor till he reached an open door. Within the room were several partly dressed women, talking, laughing, and drinking. Timing it well, he skipped past unnoticed. He silently made his way along the corridor, tapping on closed doors and whispering, “Cheryl.” Angry voices came back, demanding to know who was there and to go away. On the fifth door Cheryl called out, “Harry, help.”

Harry tried the door, which swung open to reveal Cheryl. Harry was shocked to see Cheryl tied to a chair, a huge bruise on the side of her face and her bodice cut open to reveal a trickle of blood. He rushed over and untied her hands and feet.

“Oh Harry, Harry, they were going to kill me,” she cried, holding on to him tightly.

“Don’t worry, you’re safe now. Follow me.”

Just as he turned, Piper and another man entered. Piper swore and drew his knife, but Harry knocked it out of his hand, grabbed his collar and threw him across the room, hitting his head. The other man ran out, yelling.

“Come on,” he yelled to Cheryl and ran up the corridor, holding Cheryl’s hand towards the exit. Big Billie appeared, blocking the exit. The huge man bellowed with rage and rushed at the couple. Dropping Cheryl’s hand, he lept into the air and as big Billie descended on him lashed out with his feet hitting big Billie squarely in the chest. He stopped instantly, and Harry fell to the ground.

“Go!” He ordered Cheryl, and she dodged past the stationary man. She rushed out into the courtyard in near panic. On the opposite side were several labourers repairing a wall. She ran to them.

“Help, help. They nearly killed me now they’re killing my friend.”

The labourers were tough, weather-beaten but honest workers that would come to the aid of any women in distress. Besides, every man had had some dealings with Ugly Dan and hated his guts. They grabbed pickaxes, hammers and lengths of strong wood and entered Molly’s brothel. In the corridor, several men held Harry while big Billie pummelling him with his fists.

“Get the bastard’s,” yelled the labourer’s foreman, and all hell broke loose. There were pickaxes, knives, hammers flying everywhere. Naked men were busting out of rooms and running out the entrance and half-naked women following them. Cheryl helped the almost unconscious Harry to his feet and out the door only to be stopped by ugly Dan.

“Going somewhere, sweetheart,” he said, then several men lept on them and once more Cheryl was bound, hand and feet and, along with Harry, tossed back onto the cart.

“Cover them up and take them to the farm,” ordered ugly Dan. One of the men threw a large dirty canvas over them, throwing them into darkness.

“Oh Harry, are you alright?”

Harry groaned.

“Yes, groggy, that’s all. Sorry Cheryl, I failed.”

“You were magnificent Harry.”

“What do they want with you, Cheryl?”

“They want me to tell them things. You see, I’m from the future.”

“The what!”

“The future, the year twenty twenty-one. The professor made a time machine and dragged me here and now Ugly Dan wants me to tell him things I don’t know.”

There was a pause.

“If you’re from the future, does that mean you’re going back, or maybe forward?”

“Eventually.”

There was silence then Cheryl said,” Are you ok?”

Harry was wriggling and squirming beside her.

“Yes. Be very quiet, Cheryl, and still. I’m nearly free of my ropes.”

She felt Harry moving around.

“Slowly, turn till on to your stomach.”

Cheryl obliged then felt Harry’s hand loosen hers.

“Carefully, untie your feet.”

Harry peered out from under the cover. There were three men on the seat paying no attention to them.

“Now listen carefully. I’m going to drop you off the back of the cart. No matter what happens, you must be quiet.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’ll be right behind you.”

Cheryl edged towards the rear and lowered her legs over. The cart was going quite fast.

“Ok here goes.”

She let go and dropped, almost screaming in agony as her leg twisted under her. Harry dropped off successfully a short distance in front. The cart disappeared down the road, unaware it had lost its cargo.

Harry reached Cheryl, who was trying to stand.

“My ankle, I’ve twisted it.”

Harry took the foot and felt the ankle.

“Thank God, it’s not broken.”

He stood up, and in one motion swept her off her feet.

“This is really romantic, but you can’t carry me all the way back to London.”

“I don’t plan to. There is a farmhouse over there. I’ll try to get a room for the night. Your ankle should be better by then.”

Harry approached the farmhouse carrying Cheryl, who then swung down to hobble on one foot. Before he could knock, the door was pulled open by an old woman.

“Wot de yer want.”

“My friend has injured her foot and we need a bed for the night so she can rest.”

“De yer now. Wot do you think this is? A public inn.”

“All we want is just a bed for my friend. I can sleep in the barn.”

“Well, you both can sleep there,” she said, slamming the door.

“Oh well,” said Cheryl, “this will be another first.”

The barn was old and draughty, but the hay was dry and clean. There were two old Clydesdales in stalls and a milking cow. Cheryl had been unable to climb the ladder, so Harry threw down some bails of hay and made a bed for them in an empty stall. Catching Cheryl off guard, he picked her up and dropped her on the hay then jumped in beside her. He didn’t stop till they were covered with straw.

“This will keep us warm.”

They lay together in silence, listening to the sounds of the livestock shuffling in the dark.

“Are you really from the future?” asked Harry.

“Yes but don’t ask me who won the derby. I don’t know.”

“Are you going to go back?” asked Harry.

“Yes, if I can. I’m so sorry.”

Harry paused, and then listened to the cow and horses shuffle around.

“If you don’t go back, will you marry me?”

Cheryl stared up at a little hole in the roof where daylight was beginning to shine through.

“If the professor can’t mend his time machine, yes, I will marry you.”

Harry rolled over and kissed Cheryl, then froze as a familiar voice said, “Freeze or you will get a bullet in your gut.”

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