How Far the World Will Bend

How Far The World Will Bend - Chapter 2

Chapter 2. Down the Rabbit Hole

The following morning dawned gray and cloudy. Meg thought Milton looked to little advantage in such weather as its structures and streets appeared leaden and lifeless outside the hotel room window. It was hard to reconcile the beloved town of Gran's childhood with the unlovely reality outside.

Meg was dismayed to find that Gran was ill this morning; she complained of a sore throat and a hacking cough. Meg swiftly dressed and went down to the hotel dining room to order breakfast to be delivered to their room. She was able to cajole a pot of hot water from the maître d'hôtel, with which she made a tisane of herbs and honey to soothe Gran's throat. She mixed in horehound and licorice from the small store of medicinal herbs she always carried with her to help Gran's cough, and stood over her to make sure she drank it rather than dumping the contents into the potted plant on the dressing table. Gran called her a despot, but drank the concoction with little complaint.

After breakfast was delivered and eaten, Meg was alarmed to find that Gran felt feverish and ordered the older woman back to bed. As she tucked the bed covers up about her, Meg muttered, "Lily will have my head if you are ill when we return home. Still, I wonder if we shouldn't return to London today and postpone our trip until some other time."

Gran disagreed so vigorously that she had a coughing spell. When she was able to speak, she protested, "We cannot go home yet-we have only just arrived, besides which I am certain sitting in that drafty train car will do me more harm," she said testily. "Why don't you explore the town this morning while I rest? In all probability, I will feel better this afternoon, and you will have determined if there is anything of interest we should see, beside my old neighborhood."

When Meg protested, Gran insisted, adding, "Perhaps the town apothecary might have something to help me?"

Meg pursed her lips. "Perhaps he might. Oh, very well, I will take a walk, but mind you, you are to remain in bed and rest-and drink the rest of that tisane in an hour or so. I hope to be back by then, and it had best be gone."

Gran mockingly saluted her, and Meg kissed her affectionately on the forehead. She donned her smart new navy coat, her navy hat with the jaunty veil and cherry-colored ribbons, and her kidskin gloves. Blowing Gran a kiss from the doorway, she began her exploration.

As Meg left the hotel and strolled down the quiet streets of Milton, she recalled Gran's stories about this town when it was a bustling, busy hub of industry. In addition to the mills, numerous other manufacturing endeavors had been in full employ in Milton, and the shops had done brisk business when Gran was a girl. Now, the factories were empty and still. Several shops remained open, but most were boarded up, as if the proprietors had slipped away to more prosperous locales, leaving the empty shells of drapers and milliners and dry goods stores behind them. She could find no evidence of an apothecary, and several of the locals informed her that the nearest apothecary was an hour's journey from Milton.

An aura of melancholy lingered over the streets and alleyways, and Meg was sad to think that a town of such former enterprise and energy had been reduced to a shade of itself. The streets were so deserted that Meg's footsteps echoed from the walls and structures, and she felt a sense of eeriness, as if she traveled about a ghost town. She stopped quite often during her walk along the various streets to examine old bills tacked in dusty windows with interest. She read tattered posters pasted to walls that advertised hair tonic, medicine, and other sundry items. She was so deep in thought that she failed to notice that she was being observed.

"Miss!" a sharp voice called out.

Startled, Meg spun about and found herself pinned by the bright gaze of an older woman leaning against a doorway. The woman was swathed in gauzy robes, and a bright shawl fell gracefully from her shoulders. Gold hoops dangled from her ears and her dark curls fell luxuriantly past her shoulders. Bright black eyes gazed curiously at Meg, who wondered if the woman was a gypsy. Gypsies were known to roam about the countryside, not reside in the city.