Julius and the Watchmaker (30 page)

A crowd began to form around the eccentric old gentleman and his rather embarrassed acolyte.

‘That's right, gather round, gather round, come one, come all, see the amazing disappearing feat of Professor Vortex and his able young assistant Antonio de Pontifraxus. Take a bow, Antonio.'

All eyes turned to Julius who reddened and bowed. To his surprise the crowd applauded.

‘The device, if you please, Antonio,' said the professor with a theatrical flourish.

Julius produced the pocketwatch with a rather less-expert flourish, but he got another round of applause in any case when he made it bob in the air.

‘And now, for your felicitation, edification and education, we will show you the great Tibetan disappearing trick. Ladies and gentlemen, now you see us…soon you won't.'

Julius noticed a couple of police constables pushing through the crowd. He looked around the full circle and saw more black hats advancing.

‘Professor,' hissed Julius. ‘I think we ought to be going now.'

‘What,' said the professor as he followed his assistant's gaze. ‘Oh, yes.
Tempus fugit
and all that. And so, without further ado…'

The professor moved to Julius's side and whispered, ‘I'll have to do the coordinates for you, my boy. Or the constabulary will be feeling our collars.'

The audience laughed, appreciating the injection of a little comedy into the proceedings.

‘Oi, 'old up there, sir. I want a word with you,' said a burly constable breaking through the crowd.

‘In a moment, constable,' said the professor as he held Julius's finger and proceeded to tap the pocket-watch at various points. The top and bottom panels opened out and an orange light shone out as the cogs and wheels spun. The crowd clapped, and the constable was momentarily stopped by surprise.

‘I bid you adieu, farewell, sayonara and ciao,' said the professor lifting his hat and bowing. He took Julius's hand and said. ‘One more tap for luck, my boy.'

‘Toodle-pip,' was the last thing the crowd heard before the professor and Julius disappeared in a whirlwind of orange light. After a gasp and a few moments of expectant silence the crowd clapped. The applause died away and the audience waited patiently for the reappearance of the conjurers, but eventually they grew bored and wandered off to see the other attractions. The police constables searched the area in the hope of arresting the old man and his assistant for exhibiting without a permit. But they too gave up, after a couple of hours. Soon after that the timeline faded out of existence like a morning mist as the day warms up.

CHAPTER 26

Saturday 8th July, 1837
10:36 PM

Julius and the professor landed on the hard but welcoming cobblestones of Cheapside. The young time-traveller expertly rolled over and was quickly on his feet with the watch in his pocket and only a couple of bruises to show from the cobbles. The professor, however, lay on his back, not moving.

Julius ran to his side. ‘Are you all right, Professor?'

‘Confound it,' he said, more to himself than to Julius.

Julius looked around. The sun had recently set, and they were in the precincts of St Paul's Cathedral.

‘Here, let me help you, Professor.'

‘Thank you,' said the professor as he struggled to his feet and leaned against the cathedral wall. ‘I'm most frightfully sorry, my boy.'

‘What's the matter, Professor?'

The old man closed his eyes. His hands trembled even more than they had before.

‘That time-jump seems to have knocked the stuffing out of me,' he said as he opened his eyes and stared glassily at Julius. ‘Where are we?'

‘Cheapside, we're home again. In our own time…I think.'

The professor rubbed his head. ‘I need to sit down.'

Julius led him to some steps, and the professor sat down and let out a long sigh. His chest rose and fell with each breath.

‘I'm most frightfully sorry about all this, Julius,' he said, mopping his brow with his handkerchief.

‘Are you all right? What is it?'

‘It would appear that I am not as well I would like to think I am.' He paused to breathe. ‘My time as a Grackack in that cage…it has taken its toll.'

‘Professor?'

‘My mind is in confusion, I…I cannot think…but I need to…to…Oh, confound it.'

‘Look, Professor, I'll get Mr Flynn, he'll know what to do. I can run to his house. But I need to be sure, Professor. What date did you time-jump us to?'

‘What date? I can't recall. Let me think. Let me…'

‘We have to get to Springheel before he makes his first contact with the Grackacks, remember. Clements told us that it was in the early hours of Sunday morning, Sunday the 9th outside the British Museum.'

‘Oh yes, now I recall. It is Saturday evening of the 8th of July. Remind me, if you would? Springheel is on the run again after abandoning you on that, on that…?'

‘Rooftop.'

‘Yes…Wait, I should have given us more time. We have only a matter of hours until he opens the vortex at the museum.'

‘It's all right, Professor, we still have time…if we hurry.'

‘Damn and blast, a fine Watchmaker. What must you think of me? I have given Springheel a head start.'

The professor sagged and put his head in his hands. ‘Such confusion in my mind, it's whirling around like a Dervish. I don't have the strength anymore, Julius…it's been too long.'

The summer evening was fading into night. In another fifteen minutes or so it would be completely dark. Julius was not happy leaving the professor sitting there on the steps but could not think of where to take him that was safe and close by.

‘Don't worry about me, Julius. I'll be fine. See if you can find Mr Flynn. He'll rally the Fancy and we'll rush to the museum.' The professor rested his head against the sooty stone wall.

Julius ran his fingers through his hair, trying to think what to do.

‘I've got it,' he said as he slapped his side. ‘Wait there, Professor. I'll be back with help in ten minutes.'

Julius ran through the streets, intoxicated by a concoction of fear and excitement. He stopped at the ruins of Clements' pawnshop. Sweat ran from his brow as he strained to see in the fading light. He felt strong; he could do this.

‘Emily,' he whispered as loud as he dared. ‘Emily.'

There was no reply. He clambered over the rubble, looking in the darkness for a clue.
Where would they go at night, Higgins? Where?
He made his way back to the street and brushed the brick dust from his clothes. As he did so he saw the laneway.
The market, Higgins. She said that Mr Flynn found them hiding in the market. Brilliant work, Higgins. Thank you. You're welcome.

Down the dark alley he ran. There was no gate to climb over: the marketplace was simply an open square with nothing left to steal once the stalls had been packed up for the night. There might be a constable doing his rounds, but that would be all.

‘Emily, Emily,' he whispered loudly as he ran through the square. He stopped in the centre and looked around. He could be in some Mongolian desert for all he could see in the darkness. ‘Damn and blast,' he hissed to himself. But then he felt the weight of Shelley's pocketwatch. It was as if the watch was calling to him. He took it out of his pocket and spun it in the air and tapped the side. A pale yellow light shone around him like a lantern. ‘Emily, Emily, are you there?'

He ran to the edge of the market with the watch bobbing along above his outstretched hand. ‘Emily, where are you? Emily?' A confusion of awnings and broken poles were piled against a wall—it was the only hiding place he could see. ‘Emily?' he whispered. ‘Are you in there? I have a job for you. A paid job… for Danny the Duke, no less.'

A rustling sound emanated from behind the debris. A small, dirty face poked out into the yellow light. It darted out of sight again. Julius strained his ears. There was a feverish whispered conversation going on in the lair of Emily's gang. He had found them.

At last another face poked out. It was Emily's. Julius remembered with a jolt that she was three years younger than the Emily he had grown to know. He realised that he had been looking forward to seeing her again, but this was a different Emily.
Time-travel is a strange business, Higgins, it surely is.

‘Hello again, Emily,' he said.

‘Who the bleedin' 'ell are you?'

Julius stepped closer and squatted down so that her face and his were in the light. ‘We met er…yesterday. No, not yesterday. Oh, confound it, I can't remember. Me and my friends wanted to get into Springheel's lodgings, remember?'

He could see that she recognised him but was not going to let on.

‘So? Wot of it? Wot d'you want? We ain't done naffing.'

‘You emptied out Springheel's rooms before the shop fell down, didn't you?'

More feverish whispering in the lair.

‘Shaddup,' commanded Emily and there was quiet again.

She looked piercingly at Julius, at his shining pocketwatch and the friendly expression on his face.

‘Wot d'you want?' she said with slightly less menace and slightly more curiosity than she was used to.

‘I need your help, Emily, you're the only one I can trust to do this.'

Julius led the curious procession down Warwick Lane towards the cathedral. Shelley's pocketwatch was shining dimly in his hand, and Emily and a very small Harry walked beside him with a gaggle of children skipping excitedly behind.

When they got to the steps at the back of St Paul's, Julius was relieved to see the professor still there. He was snoring, which Julius took to be a good sign.

‘Now I want you all to guard the old gentleman until I get back with Mr Flynn, all right?'

Some of the smaller children sat on the steps. They snuggled up against the sleeping time-traveller and proceeded to fall asleep as well.

‘Don't forget, it's a shilling each for guarding the old geezer,' said Emily with menace creeping back into her voice. ‘Or else.'

‘Or else what?' said Julius smiling down at Emily in the yellow light.

‘What you smiling about, pox-breath?' she said. ‘Somefing wrong wiv your face?'

‘No, I'm just glad to see you again, even if you are a scruffy, foul-mouthed little goblin this time round.'

‘Oi, who you calling a goblin, scab face?' she said.

But it was too late, Julius was already sprinting towards Mr Flynn's lodgings.

CHAPTER 27

Saturday 8th July, 1837
11:32 PM

Julius hammered on the door of Mr Flynn's lodgings.

‘Gawd, who is it at this time of night? Be off with you now,' said Mrs Mottel from within.

‘Mrs Mottel. It's me, Julius Higgins. Let me in.'

‘Julius
who
?'

‘Higgins, we met a few days ago. I'm a friend of Mr Flynn's. I need his help. It's really most urgent.'

‘'Ang on.'

He stepped back from the door, and he heard the bolts, locks and latches being disengaged. The door opened a few inches and Mrs Mottel's eye appeared in the gap. She examined him suspiciously.

‘Oh my gawd, it
is
you, Master 'iggins,' she said, flinging the door open. ‘Come in, come in. We thought cutthroats 'ad got you. Mr Flynn will be ever so pleased you're all still in one piece.'

Julius hurried into the dark hallway and made for the stairs.

‘'Ang on, Master 'iggins. 'E's not well.'

‘What?' said Julius, stopping in his tracks.

‘I found 'im on the doorstep yesterday morning. 'E was in a bad way. The doctor said it was concussion cause by a blunt h'object coming down with considerable force on the back of 'is 'ead.'

‘Is he all right?'

‘The doctor says 'e needs to rest, Master 'iggins. 'E's had a brain fever.'

Julius turned and ran up the stairs, taking them three at a time. He knocked quietly on Mr Flynn's door and listened. Behind him, Mrs Mottel was coming up the stairs with a candlestick.