Page 78 of The Uprising
‘You could hide the key at Buckingham Palace,’ said Edward. ‘We know that’s still there in the twenty-first century.’
A gleaming chestnut horse and carriage whisked by with a young lady and her companion taking some park air and nodding at them as they passed. George bowed and turned back towards Edward.
‘The nineteenth century is really rather charming. I must appreciate it more.’
‘Yes, there is a reassuring slowness to the speed of life here. Sometimes I enjoy it more than the future,’ replied Edward.
‘About Buckingham Palace—I considered that, but we no longer have any link to the royal family, so it would be impossible to gain proper access in the present-day.’
‘There might be another way. When I was on the phone with Cara, I had an idea,’ said Edward.
‘How is she?’
‘She’s fine—she sends her love and says not to worry.’
‘Thank you, Edward. I appreciate you being our go-between-timelines. So, what’s your idea?’
‘I think the most obvious place to hide the key is Willow Manor.’
‘But the estate isn’t in our family at that time.’
‘Even so, how about we find a way to hide it in the grounds and then it’ll be easy enough for Cara, and the future you, to retrieve it. There should be some perfect opportunities when you discuss purchasing the property, don’t you think?’
George stared at Edward. ‘My good man, you really are a genius!’
‘Was that ever in any doubt?’ Edward pulled a mock-surprised face and held his palms upwards.
‘It’ll take a bit of manoeuvring, but it’s possible we can pull it off,’ said George.
They chatted through possible options and came up with a plan.
‘I’ll leave for York first thing in the morning,’ said George.
Willow Manor, York, 1848 - Victoriana
After several days of monotonous travelling, with too many stops along the way, George was grateful to arrive at the village near Willow Manor. He wished he had his Porsche and could fly along the Great North Road without all the cumbersome delays of nineteenth-century travel.
A hotchpotch of images of his ancestral home flipped through his head. After resting a while in his room and dining on a light meal, he requested another carriage.
The innkeeper had been puzzled when he asked to be taken to Willow Manor.
‘Nobody’s lived at the big house since the fire,’ he said.
‘There was a fire?’
‘Oh yes, my lord—the word is—if it weren’t for someone returning in time to discover the fire, the estate would have burned to the ground, with the master inside. They say, he was driven quite mad with love for a young lass in his employ.’
Questions popped into George’s mind about his ancestor’s troubled past, but he didn’t have time to get into the rumours with the innkeeper now, so instead he said, ‘I had hoped to have a look at Willow Manor—I’m thinking of buying it, you see.’
The innkeeper tutted. ‘Well, they say it was the finest house for miles in its day, but it’s lain in ruins for years. It’s been like that for as long as I can remember. I don’t envy you the job of bringing it back to life, fine as it once was...it’ll be a hell of a job. Aye, I’d think twice about that if I were you.’
George paid for his meal, slotted his arms into his dashing double-breasted frockcoat, and pulled his top hat firmly down onto his head. As the carriage drew up in front of the inn and he was about to exit the building, the innkeeper called after him, ‘Beware of the ghosts—rumour has it that the lovers haunt the old place. It’s a famous legend in these parts.’
He turned back to look at the man. ‘I will heed your words. Thank you for the warning.’
George, still weary from the long journey, sank down into the seat as the horse and carriage pulled away. He thought about ghosts and wondered what had happened at Willow Manor to cause people to believe it was haunted. He allowed his head to bounce gently against the seat as it bumped along the pot-holedroute. Visions of the tragic master and his doomed love hovered in his consciousness as he dozed to the uneven rhythm of the carriage wheels.
The carriage drew up in front of the tall iron gates of Willow Manor, and George noticed the peeling black paintwork. He roused himself and jumped out to talk to the driver. ‘Would you be so kind as to take me up to the house itself?’
