5 And what’s this?
5
And what’s this?
Benjamin
“This, my dear, is yours.”
Without understanding, I looked at the locket that my grandmother, Mary Waldorf, was holding out. When my father asked me to come, I knew I would find her in a bad way, but I didn’t realise how bad. The woman in front of me was weak, pale, and her eyes were dull. Only then did I understand my father’s call: my grandmother was dying, and perhaps this was my last chance to see her.
“A cameo locket?” I asked, grabbing the object. It was beautiful, elegant. A feminine silhouette in mother-of-pearl, with a pink stone at the top of the figure’s neck. A cameo like many I’d seen before, although I had the impression that there was something different about it. “But, Grandma, don’t you think Abigail would make better use of it?”
My grandmother, even without her strength, gave me a sweet smile.
“No, Benjamin. This cameo is yours. I’ve always known, ever since I got it from your grandfather, that I would pass it on to someone else one day.” She closed her eyes, sighing heavily. “I didn’t imagine it would be you, my naughty boy.”
I felt a knot in my stomach and tears sprang to my eyes. She and I had always been close. Grandma was loving to all her grandchildren, but there was something extra with me. Something special. She was different from the other women in the family. Mystical, I would say. My father always joked that if we lived in the 1600s, she would definitely be accused of being a witch and would die at the stake.
“I’m glad it’s you.” She looked at me again.
“I don’t understand.” I took her warm, wrinkly hand.
“You don’t have to understand for now.” Grandma shook her head gently. Her eyes showed such certainty that it gave me goosebumps. “Just accept my gift. One day, you’ll understand.”
I open my eyes, jolting upright in bed. I’m sweating and can barely breathe, my grandmother’s words as clear as water.
The cameo locket. It was after the cameo that everything disappeared. It was after reaching for it that I woke up here, in this strange world. How could I have forgotten that detail?
“Nurse!” I shout, the beeping next to me accelerating even more than yesterday. The room is bright, which makes me realise that it’s already dawn.
It doesn’t take long for an unfamiliar woman to enter the ward. She has her blonde hair up in a bun and is wearing the same baggy, masculine clothes and a pair of very thick-rimmed glasses. I’ve never seen such a model.
Well, I’ve never seen much around here.
“I need my things,” I say. “Where are they?”
“Calm down.” She touches my forearm.
We’re in a time when touching seems to be normal, even between strangers. I’ve seen marriages happen for much less than that.
“I want my things!” I repeat. “I had a cameo with me; I can’t lose it.”
“Calm down, Benjamin. Your things are safe.”
“Where? I need them!” I insist.
The blonde woman takes a deep breath, as if seeking patience. I understand. My manners have been lamentable ever since I found myself in this place, a real insult to chivalry. I should be ashamed, but there are too many emotions for me to deal with right now.
“I’ll get them,” she says.
I nod in agreement, waiting anxiously as I watch her turn. I run a hand through my hair, my chest tight with anguish. I still have no idea what happened, or how, but it must have something to do with the cameo.
First, it suddenly appeared in the study. Then, I saw a light come out of it just before it went out. Now I’ve dreamt about my grandmother, Mary, something that hasn’t happened since her death four years ago.
And there’s the feeling. This voice that seems to whisper in my ear that what she said to me that afternoon, about me finally understanding why she was giving me the locket, has something to do with this madness.
“Here, Benjamin.” The nurse returns. “Your things.”
I take the parcel she hands me, a strange, transparent cloth, and open it. My clothes are there: the jacket, the shirt, the tie, the trousers. I start groping in the pockets, and an immediate relief runs through my veins when I feel a bulge under the cloth. It’s there. I haven’t lost the cameo.
“Ah, thank God…” I mumble, taking the item out of my pocket and staring at it.
I run my hand over the mother-of-pearl, over the pink stone. Nothing happens. That’s what I did last time, wasn’t it? Well, I don’t know for sure because I’m still here in this hospital bed with an unknown woman staring at me as if I’m a lunatic.
Probably because I really am. I don’t know anything anymore.
“Can I take your drip so we can discharge you?” she asks me.
“Drip?” I have no idea what that is.
The woman replies without looking at me. “Yes, that liquid that’s been keeping you hydrated.”
Hmm. That makes sense.
I notice the woman’s blue clothes and open necklace around her neck.
“What’s this?”
She looks where my finger is pointing.
“A stethoscope. It’s used to listen to your heartbeat.”
Interesting. Very, very interesting.
“And what’s that?” I now point to the noisy rectangle that has been chirping out of tune next to me all night, sounding like a dying bird.
“A monitor. These…” she points her finger at the scratches that appear on the surface, rising and falling, “are your heartbeats.”
“Does everything here have to do with my heart?”
She opens her mouth, thinking. Before she can answer me, Miss Isabella enters the room. She has kept her word and is here, smiling as soon as she sees me. Suddenly, I feel safer.
I can’t explain the reasons for this reaction.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
The annoying beeping gets faster. I look at the nurse, who looks at Isabella and holds back her laughter.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Someone’s affected by their companion…” Is she making fun of me?
“Good morning,” Isabella greets the nurse. Just like yesterday, her long dark hair is loose, and she’s wearing a long-sleeved yellow shirt and blue trousers, very tight against her thighs. My eyes are involuntarily caught on them. I never imagined that a woman could be so sexy in men’s clothes. I probably shouldn’t be noticing anyone’s curves in my current situation. Well, I may be crazy and lost, but I’m still a man.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
The damn whistle blows again.
“But what the…” I start to say, but I’m interrupted by the woman next to me.
“Good morning. Are you his carer?” the nurse asks Miss Isabella.
“Yes, it’s me. Good morning, Your Grace.” The pretty girl turns to me.
The nurse lowers her gaze, her expression still amused.
I’m glad other people are enjoying my tragedy. Marvellous.
“Good morning, Miss Isabella.”
“Are you ready to go?”
“The doctor should be by soon,” says the nurse. “If you want, you can change now, Benjamin.”
I look at my arm and only then realise that she has already released me from the drip thing.
“Of course. Where can I do that, please?” I ask. I don’t usually dress myself, but I don’t see any valets available who can help me, and respectable ladies can’t fill that position either.
“There in the bathroom.” She points to a door at the far end of the hall. “Can you stand up?”
I nod because I feel physically well. At least there’s that!
“Do you want to sign his discharge papers in the meantime?” the nurse asks Miss Isabella.
“Hmm… do I do that?”
“You could, since he doesn’t have an identity card.”
Once again, I wonder what they’re talking about, but I decide not to voice my doubts.
Realising I want to urinate, I carefully bend down. These clothes are the height of indecency to look for a potty. There’s nothing under the bed.
“What do you need, Benjamin?” the woman wants to know.
I shouldn’t talk about this with a lady, but I don’t see any other way. I have no other choice.
I sniffle, a little embarrassed. “I was looking for a chamber pot.”
“Chamber pot? Oh, because you think…” She stops mid-sentence. “I’m going to introduce you to something better than a chamber pot. Come with me.”
She heads towards the bathroom, waiting for me to follow. I exchange a look with Miss Isabella, who just nods, as if to encourage me.
God, I’m not a child.
I take the parcel with my clothes and follow the nurse into the tiny room.
“Look, you can use the toilet.” She points to a crockery seat with a hole in the middle, very similar to the wooden toilets I know.
I tilt my body, analysing it carefully. There’s a bit of water inside the toilet. How did they do that?
“After use, flush it.” She points to a button on the wall. “Like this.”
The nurse squeezes it, and immediately the water inside the toilet begins to swirl, only to disappear, and new water takes its place.
“Does this ‘flushing’ mean that the waste is eliminated without us having to deal with it?” The question jumps from my lips.
She smiles and nods. “Practical, isn’t it?”
Impressive, that would be the right word. But indeed, practical.
“Don’t forget to wash your hands here.” She presses another metal button, this time over the sink next to it.
I’m still fascinated. Everything in the future works with buttons.
“Can you manage, or would you like some help?”
I stare at her serious face, wondering if I’ve heard correctly. Is she offering to help me relieve myself? What kind of question is that?
“I can do it myself. Thank you, miss.”
Minutes after being alone, I’m still shocked by the freedoms of this time when, for the first time in my life, I flush a toilet.
* * *
Isabella
I’m just finishing signing the hospital documents when I see Benjamin emerge from the corridor and walk towards me, dressed in his Regency duke outfit, riding boots and all.
My God, what a handsome man. I love these Regency boots so much.
Yes, he’s a bit mad, and yes, I have my part to play in this, but any reader of Regency novels would be thinking the same thing as me right now: Your Grace is a hot Greek god, drop-dead gorgeous.
Not to mention… I noticed his monitor speeding up when I entered the room. Coincidence? I ask you guys. I really don’t know.
Well, I’d better watch out for my fanfic. I’m helping the man, not living an only-one-bed trope. Which, by the way, is another idea that could well be adapted into an interesting plot.
The maiden finds the wounded gentleman; he doesn’t remember who he is. She takes him home against all social conventions. The man is beautiful, a temptation. They get closer, and…
“I suppose my clothes are inappropriate for the occasion,” he says as soon as he reaches my side, interrupting my reverie.
I smile and leave the pen on the counter, handing the papers to the clerk. I was right before. Benjamin is quite tall and stronger than he first looked. I could easily wear heels next to him. Matheus was almost my size and didn’t like me wearing them.
I’m amazed at the thought. I don’t know why I’ve thought of it now.
“Not at all,” I reply. “They’re vintage , but we’re in London. People won’t even notice.”
He doesn’t seem to believe me, but he doesn’t answer.
Last night was hectic. I got home late, and Cinthia was already in bed. It took me a while to get to sleep, but my creativity was still running high, so I managed to get a few ideas down on paper. Cinthia went to the station early to catch the train to Paris. Considering that taking a stranger home goes beyond the bounds of prudence, I decided not to tell her that Benjamin would be staying with me while we sorted everything out. I know, it’s wrong of me, but if she were against it, I would never have been able to take him in.
And I feel I should, even if I don’t understand why.
This man is… unlike anyone I’ve ever met. He’s bruised and a little lost, but he’s sincere. I can’t see any danger when I meet his gaze. Even though he’s a stranger, he treats me better than any other man ever has. Including my ex.
Not to mention that, since the accident wasn’t serious, it shouldn’t take him long to get back to normal. Maybe he just needs to rest in a quiet place. I’ll do my best to help him in any way I can. Of course, I have my work at the café, good thing I was off today, and he’ll probably need to stay at home alone, but how long will that be? A day? Two days? A week at most?
It’ll all work out, I’m sure. We’ll be laughing about it soon. I don’t doubt that this whole mess will give me ideas for a new book. It would be a good reward, and I could still use this piece of mischief as my avatar.
“Ready to go?” I ask, looking up.
Wow, he really is tall.
“Yes, miss.” Benjamin straightens his posture and the lapels of his jacket.
“That’s great. I live nearby, just five stations away.” I wave my hand, and we start walking side by side.
“Stations?” he asks, following me. “What is that?”
What’s that? Oh, that’s right.
Right, I have to remember that, considering who he thinks he is, Benjamin won’t recognise or understand anything I say.
“Our world has changed, Your Grace. Transport has become faster, and we have… stagecoaches of different kinds.”
“No more carriages, then?”
“There are, but not to get around like we used to. And we don’t use horses anymore. It’s faster now.”
Benjamin frowns but seems to understand.
It will be interesting to use my Regency knowledge to understand him. When I was writing, my research was so extensive that it sometimes took weeks. I admit that Benjamin sounds very much like a true lord of the time, which indicates that he must have studied a lot about the period. Once he’s recovered, I’ll make a point of writing down his sources.
Benjamin nods, looking like he’s going to ask me something. I wait a moment.
“You can ask me anything,” I tell him as soon as we reach the hospital door. We’re still inside.
He stares at me, moistening his plump lips.
“How do you know so much about my time? How do you know to call me Your Grace and what stagecoaches were?”
“I’m a writer of historical novels. I do a lot of research on the subject.”
Benjamin lifts the corner of his mouth.
“Writer? Have you published any books?”
“I have, but they’re online and self-published.”
Once again, he doesn’t understand what I’m saying.
“I’ll show you when we get home. I think it’ll be easier. I’ve even had a few ideas. Would you mind, with all your English manners, helping me?”
“Help how?”
“I don’t know, can you tell me some interesting things about your time, so I can write them down in case I want to use them one day?”
Another nod.
I don’t know if Benjamin really knows anything about the Regency period, but it seems that he does. At least he acts like it. I don’t see a problem, if that’s the case, in exchanging ideas, asking him a few questions. Maybe he’ll inspire a character of mine or something.
“I’m a little afraid of the world we’ll find outside,” he admits.
I understand, and I think it’s cute that he confesses his fear to me.
“Everything’s going to be fine. Just… try not to get carried away.”
We walk out of the hospital doors, and I immediately notice Benjamin’s wide eyes as he takes in the outside world: the cars, the red double-decker buses, the crowds of people, each with their own style. The noise is intense – horns, music, and engines. He looks at the ground, the sky, and to the sides. He jumps when a bicycle passes us at high speed and curses at the cyclist. It’s an impressive scene. If I didn’t know that he’d hit his head, I could easily believe that he doesn’t know any of this, given the panic in his eyes.
“Your Grace? Are you alright?”
Benjamin meets my gaze, swallowing dryly. “It’s… a lot.” He’s breaking out in a cold sweat.
Yes, handsome duke. This whole situation is too much even for me. Lucky for you, I don’t like to complain. “Can we go?”
He nods and follows my lead. We walk in silence through the bustling streets towards London Bridge station.
“I’ll need to buy you an Oyster card , ” I say as we approach the entrance to the Underground. “It’s a card so you can ride the Underground, which is the type of transport we’re going to use now.”
“Alright, what do I need to do?” he asks me, but I’m not sure Benjamin has understood me. His gaze is disorientated.
“Nothing.” I stop in front of one of the refill machines. “Just wait and I’ll arrange it.”
I’m just finishing the operation when I notice a group of people walking past us, whispering and pointing at him.
Benjamin is immediately embarrassed.
“You said nobody would notice me.”
I shrug, reassuring him. “They’re tourists; they must think you’re an actor or something.”
He denies it with a sniffle. “I’d be terrible at it. I’ve been in theatre before, and it was a disaster.”
I hold back the urge to laugh, imagining him in a play. I’m sure he’d be a hit. And the Oscar goes to Benjamin Waldorf and his impressive performance.
“What if we went to buy you some clothes? Current clothes like…” I look around for a reference, “that man over there.”
Benjamin turns in the direction I’ve indicated. The guy standing in the corner of the station is wearing jeans, a T-shirt, a long brown coat, and white trainers. A basic look, but one that won’t cost me much money if we buy everything at Primark. I don’t consider myself an overspender, so my spending basically comes down to food and rent, which my father pays half of. That’s why I’m able to put a little money aside each month in case of an emergency.
The curious case of Benjamin, the man who thinks he’s come from the past and has only one sexy lord’s outfit to wear, seems emergency enough.
“I don’t have any money on me,” Benjamin says.
“I do, don’t worry about it.”
He lets out a frustrated sigh. “I feel like I’m abusing your kindness. Will you house me, pay for my transport and my clothes? How will I ever repay you?”
“Don’t think about it now.” I touch his arm. Benjamin follows the gesture with his gaze, and I wonder if I’m overstepping here. If the man thinks he’s from the Regency period, he must think I’m a cheeky little bitch. I pull my hand away and continue, “Then, we’ll think of a way for you to repay me. But I really think it’s a good idea for us to buy you a change of clothes.”
As much as it pains me to get you out of those boots, my lord .
“Very well, I’ll do as you say. I won’t make things any more difficult.”
Satisfied, I hand him an Oyster card near the little automatic door.
“Here.”
He looks at the card with a frown. I hold mine up to the reader and go through the turnstile, waiting.
Benjamin looks at me without moving.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“I… I don’t know what to do. Every time I needed to be transported, it was my coachman who took care of everything.”
I take a deep breath, nodding.
“Tap the card like I did and go through.”
He looks at the card again, obeying my command. The little door opens abruptly, and he jumps in fright.
“Good Lord, that’s very aggressive,” Benjamin comments.
Going down the escalators is another challenge.
“Hold on to the handrail,” I say. He watches the steps go down but doesn’t go any further. There are people waiting behind us. “Benjamin, come on.”
“I’m going to fall.” Benjamin shudders.
“You won’t.” I try to calm him down, but it’s no use. We decide – I decide – to take the lift.
Benjamin seems more frightened with every passing second.
“This room is moving.”
“Yes, and the Underground will move too, but forwards.”
Arriving at the line, Benjamin almost falls backwards as the train approaches.
“Damn, this is too fast.”
“Yes, and that’s why it works.” I take his hand before the door closes. It’s crowded; there are people everywhere. Benjamin frowns, looking at them in astonishment. If he carries on like this, he’s going to get some permanent wrinkles.
As soon as the tube starts moving, Benjamin falls over a scowling man.
“Careful, boy!” the old man complains.
“Oops!”
I grab his jacket, making him hold one of the iron cylinders.
“Miss Isabella,” he tries to talk over the noise of the tracks. “I…”
“Just hold on. Whenever there’s a spare seat, you sit down.”
He thinks for a moment but does as I say. Well, almost. Benjamin not only holds onto the bar, but he sticks his whole body to it, clinging for his life.
The people near us stare at him, some laughing, others shaking their heads. He doesn’t seem to notice. He’s too scared for that.
I glance at the carriage panel, checking the remaining stations. Six, considering that now we’re going shopping and not straight home.
It’s going to be quite an adventure.