streets. I may break out into song at any moment or at the very least join up with a boy pickpocket gang. Think your dad would let me in on his secrets?”
“Funny again. Just try to stay out of trouble and don’t lose me!” Seized by impulse, I lean over and quickly kiss his cheek, as close to his mouth as my cowardice will allow. It’s fast, it’s light, it’s meaningless – I think – but my cheeks are ablaze when I pull away. “Bye,” I say, nonchalantly.
I manage not to trip as I don’t wait for a response and run to catch up with Israel and Dad. I push myself in between them and link arms with each. Dad pats my elbow absent mindedly.
The walk to our destination isn’t long, especially in comparison to the one I took before with Emme and as we walk I dutifully listen to Israel’s plan and story.
“Do you think you can remember all that?” He finally asks when he takes a breath and stops instructing me on every little detail.
“Something about you and me, a marriage, strife, job, dead family except Dad over here, all our belongings stolen, etc, etc, etc.” I reply cheerily. “Got it.”
“You better have it,” he answers, grimly. “We’re here.”
‘Here’ is a bricked building with a door that you have to descend three steps down to get to before you can knock on it. It reminds me of Bob Cratchit’s house somehow, or at least how I’ve imagined that house to look. The street is gloomy and narrow and I wouldn’t be surprised to see the ghostly hearse that holds Jacob Marley’s body glide by us. I’m finding London to be a sinister place and I shiver.
Israel raps on the door and it is opened to us directly. A man of medium height with sunken cheekbones and deep set eyes stands on the other side of the threshold and at first I am startled by his menacing appearance; suddenly then he smiles and it’s as though his face has transformed into something light and whimsical. The eyes that seemed so dark a split second before are dancing with warmth and he looks positively excited to see us, bedraggled and destitute, at his door.
“Ah, Dr Rhode! So good to see you! So good, so good indeed! Come in now, come in out of the cold and I’ll have Lu put the kettle on for tea.” He sweeps us in with long arms.
I take in my surroundings with the expertise of one who has taken in many and has practice at assessing situations quickly. The carpet is a red that once was most likely lush and bold in color, though it has faded with time and wear. The furnishings are clean but shabby. I am no expert at nineteenth century fads to know if it is dated but I would say that it is. The lighting is a simple oil lamp that gives off a softness but hardly any illumination and so everything looks darker than it really is without the glow of modern electricity that I have grown so accustomed to. It will take retraining myself, I think, to keep from entering a room and feeling for that familiar switch on the wall even if half the time I forgot to flip it when I had the chance.
“Dr Smythe, this is Noah Gray, and this is Sonnet. My wife.” Israel doesn’t even falter or shrink from the words. And here I thought he had a harder time lying than the rest of us.
I almost put out my hand to shake Dr Smythe’s but then remember that is probably not the greeting a woman in this age would offer. Instead I smile and drop the smallest of curtsies.
The woman he had referred to as Lu has tea in our hands almost instantly. She is petite and silent. She appears to be several years her husband’s senior although perhaps life has aged her prematurely. Or perhaps age has been uncommonly kind to the good doctor. I smile at her and thank her for the tea but she doesn’t lift her eyes to mine and she remains silent. Great, I think, I’ll be stuck here while Israel doctors every day and night with a silent unfriendly woman as my only friend. Well, maybe she can help me brush up on my Chinese…mine is terrible since I’ve hardly had a use for it until now.
The rest of the evening is dull and slow. We