What about us? by Jacqui Henderson Page A

will be gutted, destroying everything.  Last week a family was
living here, but they’ve moved away.  It will always exist for us, for this one
week and a day and here we have everything we need to blend into this time.”
    As he stopped speaking, he let
his side of the curtain fall back down and became serious.
    “Grace, we have to move with
the masses.  We can’t have big houses and servants and a fancy lifestyle, no
matter which time we go to; it would be too easy to find us.  Those social
circles are always narrow, even in your own time.  This house has servants, but
they only come in the afternoon to clean and air the place.  They also light
the fires for the new family they believe may arrive in the evening.  We try
not to meet them, not here or in any of the safe houses.”
    It was my turn to laugh.
    “Jack I wouldn’t know how to
fit into those circles in my time, let alone in any other.  I’ve always been
happy to be ordinary; I’ll just be happier being ordinary with you.  I’m sure
we won’t have any trouble finding some sort of work that won’t draw attention
to ourselves.  We’ll get by just fine, just you wait and see.”
    “Ah, well there I do have some
good news.  I don’t think we’ll have to work, not as you mean it anyway.  Popping
back and forth in time means we will always have something to sell and there is
always money in the safe houses.  We should have enough to live modestly and
you can help me with my work.  I can carry on recording history as it happens,
for my own interest.”
    I thought about what he’d said
and I liked the idea.  I knew very little about history, but this wasn’t going
to be dry dusty learning, spending hours in libraries or on the internet
researching this or that person or event.  This was going to be real
experience.
    “You’re on!” I told him.  I
shall be your trusty assistant.  Where and when shall we start?”
    “Well first of all,
we can’t set foot outside the door looking like this.  I suggest we adjourn
upstairs and find something more suitable to wear and then we need to find
ourselves somewhere to live.  That is if you’re happy to stay here for a while,
in 1888 I mean?”
    “Seems as good a place as any
to begin our new life.” I said, taking his hand and dragging him to the door
and up the wide staircase.
    It took ages to get kitted out. 
The wardrobes were overflowing with clothes, but in my size there were only two
options.  One dowdy black outfit and one dowdy brown one.  None of the clothes
were new.  Again, to avoid standing out.  I chose the brown one, because black
isn’t a colour I wear well and was pleased to find that once out of the
cupboard and in the light it was more coppery than brown and the fabric was a
little shiny, catching the light in a nice way.  There was some lace at the
neck and at the end of the three quarter length sleeves.  Jack’s knowledge of the
times was very useful, because I wouldn’t have put on half of what I ended up
wearing if it’d been left to me.
    Everything was fiddly though
and not easy to do up or undo in a hurry.  The corset was clearly straight from
a torture chamber, not from a fashion house and as for the knickers... well,
they went down to my knees and had no gusset! Then there were all the
underskirts and petticoats, some made from rough wool, some from cotton, not to
mention the thick woolly stockings.  I was well trussed up and felt twice my
normal size, despite the corset from hell.
    “Flippin’ ’eck! Perhaps we
ought to choose a time when the clothes are more flattering and easier to
breathe in.” I said, looking at him admiringly.  He looked much more ‘right’
than I felt, even down to the pocket watch tucked into his waistcoat.
    “Nice touch.” I told him,
pointing to the watch.
    He smiled at me and I realised
it didn’t matter to him what I was dressed like.  His look burnt me in the
nicest way.
    “This is how we do it.” he
said, patting