Time & Tide - Original Wattpad Version

Chapter Twenty-Four: In Which Jessie Spills the Beans

"What? Expensive? Nerve wracking? Busy? Hard?"

"Freeing."

I laughed. "Yeah, Margaret, it kinda was," I said. "I could leave my dishes in the sink if I wanted to, or walk around naked after a bath. I knew that there would be no new mess when I walked into the apartment, just the one I had left behind."

We stopped at the top of a street, one of the many hilly protrusions that dotted Bath, and I gestured down to the river below us, the rows and rows of yellow sandstone houses, the hills that were positively verdant beyond. "But this? This is great. We don't have anything like this."

"No trees?" Margaret teased.

"Not a lot," I said. Her mirth vanished.

"What, none?"

"The human animal is inclined to reproduce and sprawl." I shrugged. "People don't start building up until they crash against their neighbors and have to. A little garden like yours is worth a pretty penny now-a-days." I frowned. "Then-a-days."

Margaret frowned too. "I do not think I would like to visit your time, Miss Franklin," she said. "I like open skies and leafy laneways far too much."

I grinned. "Oh, there's still some green left," I said. "Just not in the cities. Not unless there's a park carved out of the concrete. And even then that's planned. It's not just... actually and honestly untouched, like this." I waved at the forest that was encroaching on the meadows that ringed the edge of town we could see.

We found our way to the gravel path, and I instantly understood why it was Margaret's favorite. It was engineered, like the parks back home I'd been referring to, but it was still pretty. The walkway itself was covered over with the arching branches of sturdy young trees, giving the long walkway the feel of a green-stained-glass covered arcade. The sun shone through gaps in the wide leaves like arrow shafts, and aside from the faint tweet of some sweet little bird or other, all the sounds of the world vanished as we entered, muted by the foliage.

I assumed this was originally intended to be somebody's shortcut, but it was so private and so quiet that it made for the perfect little getaway. Halfway through I pulled Margaret to the side and, spreading out the tails of my jacket carefully, found us both a place to sit on the little grass embankment without staining the bum-area of our dresses.

I instantly thought about Green Gowns and then tried very hard not to. It was warm enough for a little sit, but far too public for anything more than that. More's the pity.

"This is really nice," I said, and bumped my arm against Margaret's. "Thanks for bringing me."

"I come here to think," Margaret said, and bumped back. She leaned backward and spread her hands behind her and I had to shift to keep my balance and us both on the tails of my coat. My shoulder ended up right against her armpit, but she didn't seem to mind. I swallowed once and did not shift so that my bicep could brush her boob. I did not.

I shut up and swallowed again and stared up at our emerald ceiling and let her think. I let my mind wander too, onto thoughts of rambling English gardens and wild bushes of roses, of toadstools and fairy rings, or pixies and fair folk, and the probabilities of magic. This laneway felt magic. Private enough, perhaps?.

The air was still and warm inside the arcade, and when I nosed at Margaret's cheek, she turned obligingly to let me at her mouth. That sweet bud, indeed.

* * *

After we returned from the leafy arcade - our lips and cheeks pinker, and our hair rather more askew than a simple walk should have produced - Miss Brown had another purse and a list of shopping for me, and the names of the places I could get the items. This time I got a wicker basket with a handle large enough for me to loop over my arm to carry everything in, and an apologetic look from Miss Brown that she'd forgotten it yesterday, though no pity for needing it.