"Smell? Is it unusual?"
"A little. Oh, my goodness…"
"It is not an experimental farm, Mrs. Underwood?" For the first time his spirits threatened to desert him.
"No, Mr. Carnelian. It is what we call a sewage farm." She leaned on the fence and as she laughed tears ran down her cheeks.
"What is 'sewage?' " he asked.
"It is not something a lady could tell you, I fear!"
He sat down on the ground at her feet. He put his head in his hands and he became aware of a hint of despair in the back of his mind.
"Then how are we to find a time machine?" he said. "Even an old one, even that broken one I left behind on my last visit — it would be something . Ah, Mrs. Underwood, I think I have not planned this adventure as well as I might have done."
"Perhaps that is why I am beginning to enjoy it," she said. "Cheer up, Mr. Carnelian. My father always used to tell me that there was nothing like a good, solid, seemingly unsolvable problem to get one's teeth into and take one's mind off the usual silly anxieties which plague us. And this problem is huge — it certainly makes any others I might have had seem very trivial indeed! I must admit I had sunk into self-pity and that will never do. But I am over that now."
"I suspect that I am only just beginning to discover what it is," said Jherek feelingly. "Does it involve a belief in an anthropomorphical and malevolent being called Fate?"
"I'm afraid it does, Mr. Carnelian."
He pulled himself slowly to his feet. She helped him on with his coat. He brightened at the next thought which occurred to him. "Perhaps, however, it is furthering my 'moral education'? Would that be the case, Mrs. Underwood?"
They began to climb down the bank and back to the sandy path.
This time she took him by the hand. "It's more in the nature of a side-effect, though I know I shouldn't sound so cynical. Mr. Underwood has often said to me that there is nothing so unwelcome in the sight of the Lord than a cynical woman. And there are a great many of them about, I'm afraid, in these worldly and upsetting modern times of ours. Come along, let's see where this path takes us."
"I hope," he murmured, "that it is not back to Bromley."
15. Entrained for the Metropolis
The small sandy-haired man unscrewed the ebony and glass object from his right eye and sucked somewhat noisily at his teeth. "Funny," he said. "It's a cut above yer usual paste. I'll give ya that much. But it's no more a real ruby than the kind ya kin by fer a shillin' in the market. Settin's nice, though, I can't recognize the metal. Well, 'ow much d'yer wanna borrow on it?" He held out Jherek's power ring on the palm of his hand.
Mrs. Underwood stood nervously beside Jherek at the counter. "A sovereign?"
"I dunno." He looked at it again. "It's a curiosity, an' beautiful workmanship, I'll grant … But what do I risk? Fifteen bob?"
"Very well," said Mrs. Underwood. She accepted the money on Jherek's behalf. He was half-stupefied by the negotiations, having no clear idea of what was taking place. He didn't mind losing a power ring, for he could easily get another on his return and they were useless here, but he could not quite understand why Mrs. Underwood was giving it to this man and why the man was giving her something in exchange. She accepted a ticket and tucked it into his top pocket.
They left the shop and entered a busy street. "Luckily it's market day and we shan't be too noticeable," said Mrs. Underwood. "Gypsies and so on will be about, as well." Carts and carriages jammed the narrow roadway and a couple of motor cars added to the confusion, their fumes giving rise to a great deal of pointed coughing and loud complaints from those on foot. "We'll have something to eat at the station buffet, while we are waiting for the train. Once in London, we'll go straight to the Cafe Royale and hope that one of your friends is there. It is our only chance." She walked as rapidly as possible up the winding pavement of the country street, turning into an alley blocked by two posts; the alley became a series of stone steps. They climbed them and found themselves in a much quieter road. "The station's this way, I believe," she said. "It is a stroke of luck that we were so close to Orpington."
They approached a green and red building. It was indeed, the railway station and Mrs. Underwood marched boldly to the ticket office and bought them two Second Class single tickets to Charing Cross. "We have twenty minutes to wait," she said, glancing at the clock over the ticket office, "ample time for refreshments. And," she added in an undertone, "there are no police in evidence. We appear for the moment to have made good our escape."
It was Jherek's first encounter with the cheese sandwich. He found it rather hard going, but he made the most of the experience, telling himself that, after all, he might not have the chance again. He enjoyed the tea, finding it rather nicer than the beverage he had had at Mrs. Underwood's, and when, at last, the train came steaming into the station he cried out in delight: "It is just like my own little engine at home!"
Mrs. Underwood seemed embarrassed. Some of the other people in the refreshment room were looking at Jherek and whispering among themselves. But Jherek hardly noticed.
He was dragging Mrs. Underwood eagerly through the doors and onto the platform.
"Orping ton ," called a thin man in a dark uniform. " Or pington!"
Jherek waited impatiently for some passengers to leave their carriage and he climbed in, nodding and smiling to those who were already seated.
"Isn't it splendid?" he said to her as they sat down. "Ancient transport has always been one of my chief enthusiasms — as you know."
"Please try to say as little as possible," she begged him in a whisper. She had already warned him that the newspapers would have published reports of their adventures of the previous night. He apologized and settled back, but he could not resist peering animatedly out of the windows at the scenery as it went past.
Mrs. Underwood seemed particularly distraught by the time they reached Charing Cross. Before leaving the carriage, she leaned out of the open window and then waited until all the other passengers had gone before saying to Jherek: "I cannot see any sign that the police are waiting for us. But we must hurry."
They joined the crowds making their way towards the barriers at the far end of the platforms and here even Jherek was conscious that they did not quite look the same as the others. Mrs. Underwood's dress was muddy, crumpled and torn in a couple of places; also she wore no hat, whereas all the other ladies had hats, veils, sunshades and coats. Jherek's black coat was stained and as battered as Mrs. Underwood's dress and he had a large hole in the knee of his left trouser leg. As they reached the gate and handed their tickets to the collector, they attracted some comment as well as disapproving glances. And it was Jherek who saw the policeman come walking ponderously towards them, his tongue thoughtfully stroking his lower lip, his hands clasped behind his back.
"Run, Mrs. Underwood!" he shouted urgently.
And then it was too late for her to brazen out the confrontation for the policeman was saying: "By Golly, it is them!" and was beginning to pull a whistle from his pocket.
They dashed for the exit, blundering first into a very large woman carrying a basket and leading a very small black and white dog on a piece of string, who cried " 'ere, watch it!" rather too late; then into two maiden ladies who cackled like startled hens and said a great deal concerning the manners of the young; and lastly into a stout stockbroker in a hat of exaggerated height and sleekness, who grunted "Bless my soul!" and sat down on a fruitstall so that the fruitstall collapsed and sent apples, grapefruit, oranges and pineapples rolling about in all directions, causing the policeman to interrupt his attempts to blow his whistle as he dodged a veritable Niagara of pears, calling after them: "Stop there! Stop, I say, in the name of the Law!"