"Donovan IV's Bookstore – Clock Repair in Back"
Elizabeth looked up at the sign, then back at Amanda. "This is it. George works here. I think."
She paused. "The instructions aren't written very well... anyway, as long as we didn't take a wrong turn at that street down there... oh, wait, that's a lamppost, not an intersection. All right."
Amanda turned to her. "Wait, a lamppost?"
"Yeah. Here, look." Elizabeth tilted the map so Amanda could get a better view.
"What? That's a lamppost? I mean – oh, I can see it now. Who gave you this map?"
"Liam. Don't worry; I didn't tell him anything about you and George. I just asked for directions to where George worked. Come to think about it, he did look a little off – and he drew a lamppost. Huh."
Amanda raised her eyebrows and started to say something, then shook her head. "I think I recognize that lamppost, but I don't know from where. Maybe – no. Never mind. Let's go in."
Elizabeth nodded, and they walked inside. Then she gasped, dropping her map in the process, but her surprise was not a product of the décor in the main room.
The shop was musty with little sunlight filtering from the large front window that was caked with mud. A candle flickered behind a curtain in the back, and everything was covered in dust a centimeter thick. But through the filthy appearance, and although the whole place was cluttered, the bookshelves were of a stellar craftmanship and all the books – oh, the books! Gold-leafed and silver-leafed, intricate designs, perfect copies, signed copies...
"Amanda, look here! Gorgeous notebooks – cheap ink, and decent quality too – feather quills – haven't seen those in forever – and then – Amanda!"
Elizabeth spun around in a circle, one step away from squealing. Not noticing the disgusted expression on Amanda's face at the atmosphere, she jumped over to her and placed a book in her hands.
"Oliver Twist," she read with a bored glance. "What is it?"
Lizzy groaned. "You don't know it? It's only my favourite book ever! Oh, the author's name is Charles Dickens. He lives right here in England! Isn't that great? Oh, my goodness! I wish I brought money – it's cheap, only a few shillings. Remarkable condition. Signed? Oh, no, that's just a fancy font. Oh, my, I can't handle this!"
"How may I help you?" said an Australian voice from the back.
Elizabeth jumped. "Oh, sorry, um, yes! No – actually," she turned to face him and began to ask a question. "Could you keep this on hold for me – uhh," she stopped short.
The man stared at her. "Andrea?" he whispered.
"Andrea?" Amanda stepped forward. "Who's Andrea? Elizabeth Mason, if you're not telling me something..."
Elizabeth shot a 'get me out of this' look at the dark-haired, blue-eyed seventeen-year-old standing in the back doorway.
"Oh, sorry, she just looks like someone I knew – my – sister's husband's... um, his daughter. Daughter's aunt. His sister. She reminded me of her."
Lizzy raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "That's – interesting. All right. Um, Amanda, do you have any shillings with you?"
"Uhh – no, no I don't. Excuse me, um, sir, just wondering if anyone named George had a job here."
"George? Hmm... George... no, not that I can remember. Why?" He cast a glance at Elizabeth and his face changed to worried. "Any – particular reason?"
Elizabeth nodded in Amanda's direction. "Actually –"
Then the room got dark, and the loud whooshing began.
* * *
Shades rolled over the one window, but it didn't make much difference to the lighting. The Australian grabbed Lizzy's arm and placed his lips right next to her ear to be heard over the noise. "You have to get out of here, Lizzy. Now. It could get – dangerous – if you don't."
"All right." She quickly kissed his cheek, then grabbed Amanda and walked out the door like it was a completely normal day.
The man she left behind slowly lowered himself to the floor and admired her matter-of-fact nature. He touched his cheek gently, and for several moments he stayed in that position. Then he seemed to remember something, and he jumped to his feet to rushed to the back.
"She's gone," he said to someone hidden behind the curtain. The whooshing stopped.
* * *
Lizzy walked down the street, stepping around gentlemen in suits, boys in patched clothing, ladies in fine dresses, young girls in brightly-coloured garments. She almost dragged Amanda along and dodged down an alleyway the first chance she got.
"Amanda! Mandy? You in there?" Lizzy groaned and tapped her cheek lightly. No response. She slapped harder.
"Can't wake your little friend?" Said a voice, not unkindly.
A boy, no higher than Elizabeth's shoulder with strawberry blonde hair, kneeled beside her in the dirt. A stray dog limped past them and two cats sat overhead on a large pile of old clothes.
"Uh, no, and you're wearing... a suit?"
He looked down at himself, seemingly surprised. "So I am," he laughed. "Although I don't know why that's a problem. A bit of dirt never hurt anything. Or anyone."
"I'm guessing you've never met my mother – er, godmother."
The boy with the unique green eyes laughed again. "I can't say I have, although I have a feeling dirt isn't her favourite thing?"
"Oh, she doesn't mind it too much – unless it's inside her house."
He nodded. "Now, can I help you with – Amanda is what you called her?"
Lizzy bit her lip. "Do you want to carry that end and I'll carry this end?"
"If that's the best solution, absolutely!"
"Well, it's definitely not the best solution – we should get someone to check her over and a full-grown man to carry her, but then they'll ask questions, so this is the only resolution where I can get back to my Madam' home in time for my appointment with a friend."
He stood, then bent over by her legs, prepared to pick them up. "Oh, I'm Finn, by the way."
Elizabeth smiled warmly and extended a hand for him to shake. "Call me Andrea."
They carried her back with much huffing, and after Lizzy had thanked Finn until he protested, checked in on Madam Daphne – who complained about her life in general – and dumped Amanda on her bed, she raced out the door and down the street to a more run-down section of Birmingham and, after looking around to make sure no-one was watching her, disappeared into an old home.
* * *
Lizzy burst out laughing. "Honestly?"
"Yes, and he rushed away to check on his precious aunt!" Amanda exclaimed.
"Goodness, Lizzy, you've said 'honestly' four times."
"Well, it's such a ridiculous story! Mandy –"
A soft knock on the door interrupted them. "Come in," Elizabeth said.
Liam stepped into the room. His usually laughing face was grumpy as he muttered, "Lizzy, darn you, we need to talk. My brother's ill, I can't seem to remember anything these days despite my photographic memory, George thinks he should buy a flower stand to support himself and I'm just not – oh, hello Amanda, didn't see you there."
"That's obvious." Amanda sputtered, suppressing her laughter.
"I hope your brother gets well soon, but I can't really do anything about him or your memory, Liam, I'm sorry. Wait a minute, did you say a flower stand?! George? Why?"
Liam's eyes flicked to Amanda pointedly. Lizzy grinned.
"It's not that bad. Tell him to wait a few years, saving from the job he has and then buying a – flower stand – I'm sorry, I can't say that with a straight face... oh my goodness – George?!" she started to laugh.
Liam grinned. "I'm kidding, it's not a flower stand, but we do need to talk."
"Later, Liam." Elizabeth answered. "I promise we can talk tonight."
He nodded and left.
Amanda leaned forward as the door clicked shut. "Flower stand?"
She smiled back. "George?"
Laughter filled the room. "That's jolly!"
"Oh, Mandy..." Lizzy sighed.