Chronicles of The First Traveller E-Book

Iain Cambridge

• Herausgeber: BookRix
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

"Mrs. Hall stepped into me once more with only the open garment preventing her modesty from being totally compromised, her dark skin doing nothing but adding to her seductive nature as it changed in tone with each catch of the light. When at last Amanda's gown slid down her back and onto the floor,
I was lost - Forever.”

A lonely widow, bitter and angry at the world.
A wealthy and bored socialite trapped within a world of duty and position.
An aging landlady left to spend the rest of her days looking back at a life that could have been .
All of them tied together in a web of paradox and seduction, and at the center of it all a mysterious, domineering housekeeper with a secret to hide.

James Caine is lost.
Lost in time and reality.
Transported against his will by the mysterious Mr. Tindle back to a period in his life where anything was possible. However, with each interaction with the people from his forgotten youth, James is in danger of changing the future to which he must ultimately return.

With impossible choices to make and the introduction into his life of a future monster, James finds himself torn between two realities.
All for the love of Eloise.
 

Leseprobe

Iain Cambridge

Chronicles of The First Traveller

UUID: 6338707f-dd9d-4e66-b238-3d956bab917a

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Table of contents

PROLOGUE

MISTER TINDLE

THE DESPERATE FOLLY OF MEN

THE AWAKENING

CONFESSIONS

CAUSE AND EFFECT

THE SEARCH BEGINS

PARADOXAL REASONING

FUTURE ECHOES

HOME. OR SOMEWHERE LIKE IT.

EPILOGUE

PROLOGUE

I do not know where I am, or even when I am.

I am lost you see? Lost to time and sanity.

If I tell you my story, and the events that led me here – Can I go home?

You see, something terrible has happened but I cannot remember fully what it was. My mind is becoming undone and my memories are being re-written into things I do not believe are true.

I remember sitting here, watching the ducks and the world play out in front of these rheumy old eyes. But they were once young enough to see clearly the events that I will now recount to you and maybe afterwards you could tell me if I was right to do the things I did.

MISTER TINDLE

There is nothing more soul destroying, and nothing to compare to the unhappiness of a loveless marriage. It is the instigator of loneliness and solitude from where there is nowhere, and no-one for you to turn to for comfort. For who wants to make the confession that the public persona you present as a happy couple has no more substance than that of a dragon made from smoke?

Now, don’t get me wrong, I love my wife dearly and have done from the moment we met, but with her there is a different story. She says the words, but there are no feelings behind them. It is a pre-programmed response to my own proclamation of that single emotion, and when I look into her eyes I can see a sadness behind them, for it is almost as if she wished someone else were standing in my place.

The series of events that I will now relay to you started shortly after the last of our children, Harriet, had left home to attend higher learning. Having had the distraction of another person in the house removed, Eloise, my wife, became more and more distant with every day that passed, and our marriage began to feel the strain of the years of loneliness she felt. It seemed I could do no right in her eyes as she would snap at me over the slightest of thing. Trivial matters that never seemed to bother her in the past were now magnified by the prospect of spending the rest of her life alone with me.

After one, particularly torrid argument I found I could take no more and demanded from my wife as to what I could have done to her that would make her so virulently opposed to my affections. This seemed to hit a nerve with her, and with a sigh she took my hand and sat on the sofa next to me and with words that cut into my very soul she confessed that, although she loved me dearly, she had never been in love with me.

“Is there someone else?” I asked, fearful that her answer would result in the confession of an affair.

“No.” She replied. “Not since I became betrothed to you. My love for another was spent many years prior to our meeting and had you come into my life before him then I would surely have given my heart to you rather than to a man who did nothing but spoil me for all men to come.”

“Who was this man?” I asked. But she said it was of no matter, for it was a fleeting time just after her twenty-first birthday that this unnamed person had entered her life.

“So, you see,” she continued, “It was merely a case of bad timing. For as you are a good and true man, and a kinder father our children could not hope to better, I am a woman whose heart can only be given once.”

There was a silence that grew up between us at this confession.

“Do you still think of him?” I asked.

“Sometimes.” She confessed.

Again, there was a pause in the conversation that grew uncomfortable after a while.

“What became of him?” I asked. I did not really want to know the answer, unless it was something unspeakable, or even more savoury – Painful.”

“The War.” She replied simply. “As many men of that terrible time he fell victim to its horror. He never returned, and I heard no more of him.”

As a survivor of this pointless slaughter of men, I felt a pull to this man of whom I had picked up a life he had been forced to leave behind. Like most of us who had the hand of God protect us, and a guardian angel to guide us home, I felt like a fraud against those who had made the ultimate sacrifice in the name of King and Country. This man’s untimely death had provided nothing to this world other than to furnish me with the good fortune of meeting a woman who would prove to be a superlative mother, and an excellent, if unloving wife.

“I am sorry for your loss.” I said without thinking. It was an automated response for I was far from sorry. This man, who had marched with the rest of us into the mud laden battlefields of Europe had turned the earth red with his blood, but even though I had lost many a friend in the same manner I felt nothing but contempt for my brother in arms, for his presence in the life of my wife had made for a life without passion for me.

“Did you search for him?” I asked, again without care or commitment as to whether or not he could be found.

“I did. For many a year.” Came her reply. “But after five of those years I gave up – Maybe a little too early I fear.”

Her mood grew sadder still at this confession.

“Three years after that I was persuaded by my mother to attend a local ball in aid of our fallen.”

“Which is where we first met.” I interjected.

“Indeed.” She said with a smile. You were charming and gallant, and I held great affection for you from the moment you introduced yourself.”

“But not love.” I said. It was a statement rather than a question.

Eloise looked into my eyes.

“I would not hold any malice or raise any objection to your wanting to leave me and end this lie that I have created for you. I have deceived you over the years when all I had to do was to be honest at the start. But my fear of being a lonely spinster overcame me and I looked upon you as a rock within my world of loss and instability.”

“The best of a bad lot.” I said with a slight smile.

“No.” She said imploringly. “Not at all. You were more than I deserved, and I hoped with all my heart that I would one day see you as more than a husband in name only. My one wish was that fate would allow me to fall in love again – But it was not to be.”

A small tear ran down her cheek and I could not bear the fact that I would be so uncertain whether it was shed for the loss of another rather than her inability to love me.

“I am in need of air.” I said flatly, and stood up. I adjusted my waistcoat and straitened my tie so as to look respectable in the eyes of the public.

“Shall I be here on your return? Asked Eloise.

“Please.” I replied. “We have much to discuss.”

With a nod, she stood up and smoothed down the front of her dress, and without addressing me further she left the living room and made her way upstairs to our bedroom.

As the front door clicked shut behind me I stood on the doorstep and looked into the distance, my eyes were unfocused as my mind raced with thoughts of this unintentional deception on Eloise’ part. Not to be in love with someone whilst claiming to love them – Was that possible? I stepped onto the walkway and made my way, somewhat distractedly towards the park. Maybe the sounds of the birds and the smell of the late spring flowers would go some way into lightening my mood.

I found myself an empty bench that faced a large expanse of water which served as a temporary home to the ducks and other varied aquatic birds that visit our land during the more clement seasons. I watched with mild interest as the ripples, caused by the varying movements of the fish that shared this small world pulsed out from their origins and out towards to edge of the pond. I found them quite symbolic of the cause and effect that our actions, and the actions of others have on the lives of people we have never met. This man’s involvement with my wife, admittedly well before she became such, had caused me great strife. I began to muse at how different things would have been had I had been the first to meet her. I am sure there had been other suiters before my mystery nemesis had made his appearance, but he had wooed her so that she had given her heart to him, and him alone. Eloise had said herself that she had fallen for my charms and gentlemanly approach to the fairer sex, so what then would have happened if those same attributes had been exacted towards her at an earlier stage in her life.

“A fine dream indeed brother.” Said the man who had sat next to me.

In my exclusion of all other outside influence to my situation, I had not noticed his arrival.

“Excuse me?” I said.

“The idea of an earlier intervention. Quite a devious notion to be sure, but a grand idea none the less.”

This intrusion into my most intimate thoughts caused mixed feelings of confusion and anger.

“I am not aware of any formal introduction sir.” I said.

The gentleman tipped his hat towards me.

“That would be because none have been made.” He said with a smile. “Let me correct that.”

He held out his hand.

“Joseph Tindle.”

I looked down at his hand and then back at his face.

“Pleased to meet you.” He added when it became clear that I had no idea what to make of his gesture.

“Mr. Tindle.” I said without taking his proffered hand. “How do you presume to know my thoughts?”

He retracted his hand with a shrug of his shoulders and said.

“Because this is not our first meeting Mr. Caine.”

“I think I would remember you sir.” I replied. “I have a very good recollection for faces.”

“Indeed, you have my friend.” He said. “But, as this may not be our first meeting, I am unsure whether or not we have met for the first time – Yet.”

I shook my head and stood up.

“I am sorry Mr..”

“Tindle.”

“Tindle. I have much on my mind at the moment, and if you do proclaim to know what those thoughts entail, then you will also know that I have no time, or tolerance for cheap parlor tricks.”

“Time. Exactly.” He said with enthusiasm. “Is that not the problem we all share in this busiest of times? The lack of said commodity?”

“I will bid you good day sir.” I said, and as I lifted my hat he stood up and placed his hand on my arm.

“I would suggest you unhand me sir.” I said with forced authority in my voice. “I am an ex-campaigner and would have no trouble in defending myself.”

“Time.” He repeated. “Is that not your problem?”

“At this moment sir, you are my immediate problem.”

At this he laughed heartily and withdrew his hand. He turned both of his palms towards me in an act of mock surrender.

“I tend to forget what a defensive man you are.” He said.

I turned without saying another word and walked away from this irritating little man. As I walked, my irritation calmed sufficiently enough for me to form a couple of plans that would serve as a solution to my marital problems. Unfortunately, both involved the dissolving of my marriage.

“I do not think that would be wise.” Said Mr. Tindle. He was leaning casually against a tree by the half bridge some two-hundred yards from where I had left him. There was no way that he could have reached this destination without passing me, and even if he had managed to slip passed without being noticed, his turn of speed would have had to have been so elevated as to rival that of the most accomplished of athletes, and his portly frame did not lend any tendencies in that direction.

“Were you unclear of my distain for parlor tricks sir?” I said hotly.

“It is well known to me Mr. Caine, as is your penchant for the occasional wager.”

“Your point?” I asked, again with bruskness in my tone.

“If you will allow.” He said as he stepped in front of me. “I will make a small bet with you. If you can reach the small tree yonder before me, the one that shields the heat of the sun from the family that have chosen to picnic under it, and have me not move from this point – Then I will leave you to dwell on your impossible problem alone.”

“And if you win?” I asked.

“Then you will give me an hour of your time for me to explain my reasoning in accosting you on this fine day.”

I looked towards his suggested destination and to the family that were enjoying each other’s company.

“How do I know that you will not move from this point.”

“Walk backwards.” He suggested.

“Do you think me a fool sir?”

“Not at all.” He replied in earnest. “Why would you think that I would?”

“It is a well know trick of the music halls of fooling the audience into believing that one man can traverse a distance with great speed, and without apparent visual evidence, by the use of twin brothers.”

Again, he laughed mightily.

“Then how am I to convince you to forfeit the time I need to explain my appearance in your life.

“And why would you assume to think I would require, or need such an explanation?”

“Because it was you that asked me to come here.”

“Enough of this foolishness.” I said. “If the only way I am to rid myself of this tomfoolery, other than to call on the services of a constable is to beat you at your own game, then so be it.”

I turned to the seat that I had originally sat.

“I see that you have made the mistake of leaving the line of sight clear towards the park bench yonder.”

I removed my neck tie and handed it to him.

“Just to make sure that you have not foreseen this turn in direction.” I added. “I will keep you in plain sight as I make my return. If you do get there before I, then you will return my tie to me as proof of you being the same man that stands in front of me now – Agreed?”

Another laugh ensued from this Mr. Tindle, of whom I had allegedly yet to meet for the first time.

“You are a shrewd man Mr. Caine.” He held out his hand once more.

“I will adhere to your conditions sir.”

I ignored his hand and started to walk backwards. As I slowly retraced my steps I did not let him leave my sight. My journey was slow but my resolve to rid myself of this man was strong enough to carry me on to my eventual victory over his ridiculous notions. If I am honest, I was starting to enjoy this momentary distraction from my troubles, and as I made my way back to the park bench, accompanied by varying looks of confusion from my fellow passers-by, I could not help but notice the look of merriment on the face of my tormentor.

As I drew near to my destination, I risked a brief look to see how far I had to go, only to see Mr. Tindle sitting on the bench holding my tie in his outstretched hand. I turned back to the tree where once he stood. I had not taken my eyes from him from the moment I had started walking, and yet he had vanished in the blink of an eye only to reappear a yard or two in front of me.

“How on earth did you do that?” I said. The amazement in my voice was not forced or suppressed in any way, for this feat of deception was worthy of the most accomplished of magicians.

“If you allow me the rewards of the bet, I will explain everything to you. Including how I did this..” He waved his hand vaguely around him. “Trick?”

I had asked that his hour of my time be spent in the small tea-rooms that sat by the entrance to the park. He agreed, and so we made our way in silence, all the time my mind racing with the possibilities of how he had deceived my senses so.

“Your name is James Caine.” He said when we had sat down and taken receipt of a small pot of tea. “And you and I are, or will become well known to one another.”

“We are friends?” I asked, for the impossibilities of any future explanations had been dismissed by his earlier demonstration. Besides, I found this distraction from my troubles entertaining enough to warrant the indulgence of this fairy tale he believed to be true.

He shrugged.

“Friends might be too strong a word.” He said. “Let us say that we are acquaintances.”

I poured two cups of tea and bade him to continue.

“What do you know of blood Mr Caine?”

“Other than it is our very life-force, nothing. Why?”

“Are you aware of its classifications and rarities?”

I took a sip of my tea and nodded.

“I am aware of varying types. ‘O’ and ‘A’ being two of them.”

Mr. Tindle sipped his own tea.

“Are you aware of what type you have?” He said.

“I must admit that I do not.”

“RH Null.” He said.

“And how are you in possession of this knowledge?”

A broad smile spread across his face at my sudden shift from inquisitive knowledge seeking, to that of suspicion and mistrust.

“You told me – Or you will do.”

“And how could I tell you something of which I myself have no knowledge?”

“But you do have knowledge of it.” He said. At this his smile grew broader and my confusion deepened.

“Only because you told me.” I said.

“Knowledge is knowledge Mr. Caine. As to how it is acquired, and the order at which it arrives is of no importance.”

I took another sip of my tea.

“I must say Mr. Tindle, you are a most confusing and exasperating man. You seek my indulgence in explaining your intentions to me only to fill my time with riddles and half-meanings.”

“My being here, at this time is a necessary link in the chain of events that will shortly unfold for you Mr. Caine. Two days from now you will encounter a newspaper advertisement that will call for those who have the rarest blood group known to modern medicine. On any other day you will ignore this call for applicants, but having furnished you with this information you will now be able to assist me in furthering my experiment.”

“Experiment?” I asked. I must admit that I was suddenly in fear of the presence I held with this person that appeared to be no more than that of a mad scientist.

“Something that will help you win the love of your wife Mr. Caine. Is this something that you are willing to sacrifice all for?”

“Of course.” I said.

“It is all in the blood Mr. Caine. All in the blood.”

At this he stood up and took out his fob watch.

“I have to leave now.” He said. “Remember. RH Null.”

With that he left in a flurry of coat tails and mystery, leaving me to pay the bill, and to wonder how my day had ended up with so much confusion and sadness packed into such a small space.

The next couple of days were filled with a polite, if awkward silence between Eloise and myself. Her confessions of a lost love hung in the air like the Sword of Damocles waiting to fall at any moment, striking a deadly blow that would end this fragile ceasefire that had become the only thing holding our marriage together. I spent most of this time in my study catching up on my reading in an attempt to lose myself in worlds more or less pleasant than the one I now occupied. My life held no joy and very little opportunity for a happy future. We ate in silence, and when forced to speak we communicated in polite smiles and pleasantries.

On the morning of the second day, after meeting the mysterious Mr. Tindle, Eloise brought me my morning tea, and the daily newspaper. I thanked her for her kindness and for the first time I felt as though the ice that had grown around us showed signs of thawing a little. But this feeling was short lived when Eloise said,

“I have asked my sister if I could stay with her for a month, in order that we have some time alone.”

“Is that what you feel is needed?” I asked.

My manner was a little brusk and I inwardly cringed at my apparent dismissal of her attempts at a solution to this impossible situation.

“I have no idea how to mend what was never intact.” She said.

“To walk away I feel, is not a solution. It seems to me that you hope to distance yourself from your folly.”

“Should I not return?” She asked. Her voice shook and cracked and was filled with suppressed emotion. “Would this be an option you would consider beneficial to our situation?”

“That would be your choice madam.” I replied. I opened my newspaper in an attempt to show my dismissal of her feelings, and to hide my own. With my world falling apart around me, and the love of my life walking away, I was foolish enough to let my own pride rule my heart.

I stared at the newspaper not taking in anything that was written on it, all the time listening to the sounds of my marriage ending.

The placing of her bags in the hallway.

The summoning of a cab.

The sound of the front door closing.

And finally, the sounds of the car tires on the cobbles of the street as they took my Eloise away from me.

Alone in my study I continued to stare at the newspaper for some time. The words and images blurring though my tears. When eventually I began to focus on the print in front of me, I noticed the advert that my future acquaintance had told me of.

It read: