Page 32 of The Uprising
Cara pulled out her phone and tapped Turner’s name into the search bar.
‘Cheyne Walk,’ she said.
‘What? An impoverished artist lives in the heart of Chelsea, overlooking the Thames? My—how times have changed.’
‘Yep, he lives in Cheyne Walk. I appreciate the internet so much more after being stuck in Tudorville,’ she beamed, looking pleased with her instant success.
‘I must admit, I rather enjoy the freedom of being off the grid in Victoriana; it’s one of its many charms,’ said George.
‘Perhaps we should consider buying property in Grosvenor Square or Chelsea in Victoriana. We could be multi-millionaires or even billionaires by teatime if you buy the right paintings and houses. Did Chelsea exist in Tudorville?’
‘I don’t know, but I feel much better about facing the challenges of Victoriana now,’ he said.
‘The truth is I’ve been dreading all of this lasting for much longer, but it’s good to see what fun we can have when we work together and take advantage of the benefits of our crazy situation,’ she said.
‘That’s a good way of looking at things,’ he replied.
‘I wonder who I could meet in Tudorville?’ she said, an impish smile lighting up her face.
‘Let’s not forget you were close friends with Anne Boleyn. That’s not too shabby as far as famous historical figures go...’
‘You’re one to talk; best friends with Henry VIII,’ she said.
‘I don’t think I’d class us as best friends just yet, and it is an extremely dangerous friendship. Whomever you decide to seek out in Tudorville when I’m not around to keep an eye on you, please remember one thing.’
‘What’s that?’
‘We agreed we are not to overreach and meddle with history. We must always keep the big picture in mind,’ he said.
‘Don’t worry. I know the rules. It’s you who’s most in danger of rewriting history. I still don’t know whether I succeeded in warning you not to do something drastic to save Robert Aske.’
When they were together, the simplest of things became magical in each other’s presence. The future looked exciting again, despite their fears and the unpredictability of the timelines.
‘So where do we start?’ Cara asked after a few minutes of allowing it all to sink in while a quiet feeling of contentment washed over her. She hadn’t felt this at peace in a while. She had almost lost sight of the spiritual principle that everything unfolds just as it should and there was no point railing against life.
‘I’ll get onto finding Turner just as soon as I’m in Victoriana again. There’s not a moment to lose if we’re to raise the funds before someone else snaps up Willow Manor.’
‘For once, I’m actually excited about you going,’ she said.
They rose from their seats in sync, exited the café and passed the bank on their way back to the car.
Grosvenor Square, London, 1848 - Victoriana
Sunday came and went with no word from Buckingham Palace. George was impatient and couldn’t sit still. Thoughts of everything he must do whizzed about his mind, tormenting him.
On Monday morning, Cara said, ‘You’re pacing about like a caged lion. Whatever’s the matter?’
‘I have heard nothing from Swifty. I sent him on an important assignment and he was supposed to get a note to me yesterday upon his return.’
‘Swifty? What a splendid name.’
George stared at Cara, despair reflected in his eyes.
‘What?’ she asked. ‘Why are you looking at me like that? I know that look.’
‘I hoped you would remember, that’s all.’
Cara hated disappointing George.
