Everyone's Time
A/N: This is a fic working on the basis that Jeremy was 10 and Jemima was 8 during the events of the film which was set in 1910. The "dream sequence" is semi-real, in that there was an uprising from the peasants, but had no involvement from the Potts' family.
I hope you like it!
Prologue – Of Jemima One and Two
Caractacus Potts hadn't always been a lonely man. He had once been a very happy man, with a wife, a son and a new baby on the way, living in a house on a hill with a windmill attached for his workshop. His wife, Jemima, called the house a castle, and said King Alfred had once lived here. Caractacus used to laugh and tell her that her stories were sweet.
That summer of 1902, Caractacus' mother passed away, leaving James Potts broken hearted. Jemima had always had a kind heart, and asked him to move in with them to the castle. Unfortunately, his room had a leaking roof, which Caractacus promised to fix once his child was born and he wasn't quite so rushed getting ready for the birth.
He never got the chance.
Jemima lay on the makeshift bed they had set up in front of the fire in the room they had eaten so many meals in together, face pale, breathing laboured. Outside, a storm was raging. In a cot, the new baby was lying peacefully, unaware of what her birth had done to her mother. The two-tear-old Jeremy was being held by James.
"Mama?" he asked. Jemima's eyelids fluttered. "Mama," he repeated again, demanding to go to his mother. James kneeled down so that his grandson could see his mother.
"Hush, my child," the dying woman said, touching her sons' face. "Look after dada, look after Grandpa." Next to her, a noise somewhat akin to a strangled cat was made. She turned to face her husband, whose tears were streaming down onto her deathbed. "My dear, do not cry. You must look after the children, you must look after your father."
He stared into her eyes, stroking the soft blonde hair of her head. "I love you, Jemima," he whispered, his words barely understandable due to the sobs wracking his body.
"I love you too… Caractacus…" Jemima's eyes became dull and glassy and her chest stopped moving. The only noise in the room were the sobs coming from the now widowed Caractacus Potts.
James set Jeremy down on the chair, and pulled a cloth over the face of his daughter-in-law, as a clap of thunder echoed outside. In the cot, the baby began to wail.
Days passed, and the tears still flowed freely at the castle on the top of the hill. Caractacus had locked himself away in his workshop, refusing to come out for anything or anyone, even to see his new daughter. Until one day, a dog wandered into the windmill.
Caractacus stared at the dog for a long moment, and the dog stared back at him. Eventually, he spoke.
"Hello, where did you come from?" his voice was cracked from not speaking for so long, and he was startled to see the dog shrink away from him. He cleared his throat, as he hurriedly knelt down on the floor. "Hush, boy," he said, more normally. The dog was no more than a puppy, shaggy hair only slightly covering the warm brown eyes. He reached forward, and rubbed the dog's head. "Where's your parents? Are you all alone?" The dog rolled over, and blinked up at the young man.
Caractacus saw his daughter in the dog, saw her grovelling to strangers for some love, being left all alone, helpless, hungry. He resolved that he would look after his daughter. Right now, in fact, he would march up to the castle and name her. And he would name her Jemima. And then maybe after that, he would make the dog a collar, and possibly call him Edison. Because Edison was his inspiration, and, after all, the dog had inspired him.
He opened the door to the castle, feeling suddenly nervous. "Jeremy?" he called out. "Grandpa? I'm home." James beamed at him from the chair, and Jeremy ran towards him, calling "Dada!" Caractacus picked him up and swung him around, before heading to the cot and picking his daughter up.
"She's called Jemima," he said, happily looking into the blue eyes that shone out her face.