Gideon's Chair

Chapter 4 Nottingham Present Day

I sat higher in my chair

" Well that's hopeful I guess " I looked at her for some kind of agreement . She turned and walked out of the room.

Kissing Carol I told her I would be back in the morning and made my way back to the car . Passing the book sale I browsed a little , wasting time really I guess. There wasn't much more of interest except an Ordnance Survey map of Nottinghamshire from 1960 .

May be of some use at some point I thought handing over 50p.

The drive home took me past the church . By this time it was about 9pm and Father Michael was talking in an animated fashion to two other Priest looking men. Both about his age , by the roadside .One a latin looking man , tall and very elegant with a trim beard and long black overcoat virtually to the floor , his white dog collar in sharp contrast to his clothing .The other man was opening the rear door of a taxi , pointing at Father Michael . He was wearing a black fedora , grey suit and was of African appearance . He was much stockier built than the other two with a large gold cross around his neck .

As I drove past I glanced in my rear view mirror , they seemed to be still arguing and pointing .

Pulling into the house gates , I was relieved there were no more notes proclaiming me as the devil , no burning effigies on my front porch .

Pouring myself a scotch I reflected on the day . Plagues , devils , tyrants and my wife possibly poisoned . This is more like a murder mystery , I could do with Agatha Christie to write the ending.

Sitting back in my old leather chair I opened the mills book , maybe I'd learn more about the area .

I don't think I turned a page . The next thing I knew I awoke with a start in the chair as the postman rattled the gates . Quickly focussing I glanced at my watch ..6.40 am. I leavered myself up with the arms of the chair . The mills reference book dropped to the floor . Dust scattering into the air.

Looking into the over mantle mirror , I must have aged a hundred years in a week . Unshaven , unwashed and in yesterdays clothes .

"Come on John , get a grip " I reminded myself out loud .

I showered and changed , pouring myself some juice , leafing through the mills book as I sipped . Taking the book and the juice into the orangery the beautiful smell of the bourganvilea filled the room as I sat , hoping to waste some time before visiting.

Then I remembered visiting today was at 2pm not 10am .

Glancing quickly through the book , there was no other mention of Joshua Tutbury , just a machine patent reference.

The clock chimed 9am.

Deciding to drive into town , I thought I could have a coffee and maybe do a little research until it was time to visit Carol.

Grabbing my coat and car keys , I put the book in a carrier bag and drove into town. The reference library was behind the Old Coach Station and according to a sign over the door was The Old Court House . I'd been here once before to do some photo copying.

A smart middle aged woman , in a herringbone pattern jacket and black skirt greeted me . Attractive in a prim way with glasses hanging on a gold chain around her neck . Blonde hair tied tightly back in a pony tail greeted me asking if she could help

At the same time the phone rang on her desk

"Excuse me one moment " she said pointing a perfectly manicured finger at me .

Glancing over her shoulder I noticed a sign advertising the mills appreciation society ...A guest talk by Mrs Windle on December 24th at 8.30pm.

" Now sir, how can I help"

I was jolted back into reality rather than thinking about Mrs Windle on Christmas Eve

" Hope you can " I replied " I'd like any books or information please on the Tutbury Mill and Five Acres please ....I am a member here and handed her my card "

Taking me to the local studies area , the lady disappeared for a few minutes before returning with a handful of books and a folder of magazine cuttings .

I sat down and began to look at the titles of the books she had given me .

The Industrial Revolution In The Midlands by J Ball

Tutbury Great Mill by RJ Henderson

That's a good start I thought , placing the other books to the side of the desk I began to read.

'Joshua Tutbury ...The Man The Myth ....An artists impression of the Great Mill taken from a painting of the time covered the first page . Saying it was demolished to make way for some 1960s social housing project . A picture of the famous BOAZ machine now in a museum in Salford Peoples Facility . Then a smaller picture of the church I'd been walking round. Saying it was built in 1906 on the site of a 12th Century monastery . The stone from which was used to build his house in Five Acres ...see overleaf ..

I turned over the page and audibly gasped ....It was a picture of my house " My bloody house"

Turning back I checked what it had said again

....used to build his house in Five Acres . With my thumb still in it . I closed the book, looking up as if not believing what I was reading ...

It was definitely my house

I opened the book again and read on ...

Joshua Tutbury lived here for less than two years before becoming a victim of the plague . He and his wife and daughter were buried in a tomb at Five Acres Cemetary.

I spent another two hours rummaging through the books , most seemed to talk about his industrial brilliance , his pioneering techniques with lots of diagrams about re directing water and how he used water power.

Not really what I wanted to read.

A few things did intrigue me though.

He had a son called Gideon who worked for him at the Mill....did he die ? There appears to be no mention of him after the funeral of his father . Also why did this vast industrial masterpiece the Mill and its trade just stop .

One thing for certain , he lived in my house and apparently died in my house ......of the plague .

I photo copied about forty sheets , including population census of the time and lots of images of the mill and area including a huge drawing of his tomb. Placing them in the carrier , with the book I thanked the lady and walked to the door .

As I opened it she called after me

" Thought he was Gods judge you know ......nasty piece of work ...Gods servant on earth "

"Who " I replied

" Joshua Tutbury ...he called himself Gods Judge " she walked a little nearer

" Really "

" Yes .....above his chair , which was like a throne in the court it read 'All Come Afore The Judge'

" Is there any record of that , anywhere ? " I asked

At that moment the phone in the library rang .

" Will look for you for next time you visit " she replied hurrying to the phone.

" Thank you "  I closed the door behind me .

Walking to my car I glanced back at the building . Court House it read above the door between two huge gargoyle , devil like figures leaning over scales . The One to the left holding a cross the one to the right holding an implement shaped like a 7 . Between was a solitary stone bird .